Oi 09: Christmas Sherrie

Christmas Sherrie

It was the midnight after the family Christmas party. I was home from grad school.

Sherrie's small hands scratched my balls and perineum and her beestung mouth tugged -- chugged -- gently up my shaft. I sat on the side of the bed, appreciating Sher's concentration, and rubbing her shoulders as she kneeled on the floor and slurped about my bulb. Her curly black hair was caught back with a tattered-looking white silken bow; it lent her a sweetly cheap effect.

She released my glans, letting it run with her warm saliva while she caught her breath. Then she kissed it up, again, her long-lashed eyelids fluttering with dream. Sherrie miouxed, and the hum moved warmly, comfortingly, through my loins.

I could feel my lubricant being sucked from me, to mingle with Sherrie's mouthwater, adding my flavor to the hardrubber chew she was enjoying. Otherwise, my plumbing was in stasis, taking pleasure from Sher's pale fingernails' loin-scratching. I began scratching back, circling my fingers down Sher's neck and over her soft shoulders. All Sher's muscles had good round form, yet they were soft, too. Some of her skin was a little rough from her new, total tanning program. She'd found one of those new "salons" in a mini-mall on Telegraph Road near South County Center.

I began to slip the loose silken brassiere from her shoulders, and Sher snaked her hands down to her green silk panties, shaking her rear a little as she tried to remove them. Her movement caused her to lose some of her suction around my cock, and as the panties fell loosely to her knees, Sher comically grabbed around my waist, to better affix her mouth to me. Of course,

"Why don't you just climb up here and let's fuck," I suggested.

Sherrie pressed her doll-like arms up my spine as she released my cock. She kissed my pubes and lower belly and inner thighs while she regained her breath. My wet dick bobbed erect about Sher's head, smearing light mucus across her blackIrish face. The soft, unlatched bra still hung from her in front. Below, she finally wiggled out of the panties, green silk kicked from the raw redbrown tan of her legs.

Freed of the pants, Sher began to squirm up my body.

Over the last couple of months Sherrie seemed to have regained almost all of her health. The anemia seemed to be subsiding, returning color to her lips and nipples. Against medical advice, Sher had also begun an aggressive tanning regimen, anxious to catch up on the "natural" look that had come into fashion. Just as importantly, she had begun to put on some weight. Happily enough, her round breasts benefited considerably from the apparent good health.

I helped Sher shed the brastraps, pulled her body up and snuggled my face into her smoothrubber, redbrown cleavage. Her new-maroon nipples were roundly erect, and I nibbled as she giggled.

Sher'd seated herself astride me, and we sat facing one another. My hard shaft was now being scratched by her curly pubes as she pressed against me for more surface rub. Her crotchhair burned my penisflesh as Sherrie squirmed to take my titsucking to greater advantage. Now her boobs were glowing. Her aureoles were hard, feeling the flat of my tongue as I pressed my mouth to her stiff nips.

"C'mon," she giggled. "Let me TAKE it!"

Raising my head, I lifted little Sher, and she bounced lightly to find the top of my shaft.

She found it, and the hair at her vaglips burned me as we balanced.

Then, slo-o-owly, we engaged our genitals.

"Ahhhuummmm..." Sherrie repeated her earlier mioux when her heated, tightened vaglips were parted by my gnarled rod. The sound of our sighs alternated with the smacking noise of our genitals. Lubricants mingled and pockets of moist, sexsmelly air were pushed away, then sucked back as piston pulled from twatsocket.

Seated on me fully, Sherrie dug her pubis into mine, hard and good. The bone-pain almost tickled, and I raised myself to adjust. Sher's small body continued to press close.

Her brown eyes shown with a serious playfulness. Through her tightly set mouth, she said, "You're not going to get off so easy, babe..."

A heavy grind down, and some inner surface of my bladder seemed momentarily stunned. We both felt an additional leakage into the juices we were churning inside Sher. It all felt exciting, if bruising.

This is the way sex was with Sherrie, often enough. We communicated with the smallest movements, with greater or lesser shifting of weights along one another, with psychic commingling of our wills to pleasure.

The flesh on Sherrie's chest was tough yet smooth, a waxen tanburn. Her cleavage was good to root in, and smelled of flowermusk and earlier sex. Her round thighs were relatively rough, paperrough, yet somehow that felt good as she stiffened her legs to either side of her seat, straightening them out behind me.

With popping cunt, Sherrie leaned away from me, pulling my dick down as we both bobbed sex at one another on the edge of the bed. Grasping one another's forearms, we kept our upper bodies suspended in air. We studied one another's faces, both of us showing happy strain, and we were satisfied, just like that.

Below its wet black thatch, above its jointure with my slick bloodpurple rod, the top of Sherrie's cunt was gleaming. A bubble of sex squeezed out of the works and popped coolingly over the reddened folds Sher had exposed to me. A clean smell of womansex drifted about us on the bed.

It would have been a good time to have had a third person in the room, to put lips to Sherrie's exposed sex. Slowly, I released her left arm, and drew my hand over her belly to thumb her clit, a baby balloon. I pressed further into her to rub the rough patch just inside her opening. I twisted a little to lean more of myself onto the bed while holding Sherrie's torso up with my left arm. The twist served to jam more slow, stony cock into her, and she ground her teeth and shoved back, below, after balancing herself on her stiff left arm, now behind her. Our muscles rippled. Sher's muscles were round and strong beneath tanburned skin gleaming with sweat. We ground with pleasurepain, my hand punishing Sher's clit and geespot, drawing from her a grunt of happy indignation.

Sher was the first to give in.

Hop, hopping on her straight left arm, Sher bounced perpendicular to the bed and drew her feet back beneath her ass in a fluid movement. She barely disengaged from my dick before resettling herself, dick and vag at more comfy angles. Then her body curled over my gasping, now recumbent body, her tits just tickling my belly, her hands just tickling my chesthair, her juicy mouth massaging my nipples.

Sher's legs straightened down alongside mine, and I rolled onto her.

Once I was on top, her legs came up again.

"Yes!"

The jamming was straightforward then, for two or three minutes. Glancing down at Sherrie's face, I almost thought she'd passed out, but for her puckered mouth's little sucks of air that matched the little tugs of twat that matched the big jams of fuck I pressed into her sex, her sex wide-open between her splayed legs.

Sher seemed to be drying out a little, just before I shook my own juice into her hole.

"Oh, luuuuv..." said Sherrie.

My plumbing was still a little numb from the earlier strain. This tempered the pleasure of my O. But my long squirt of thick scum gave a unique massage to the pins and needles in my tubing. My prick sprung in response, and as my prostate gasped after the last of my cum, my dick showed no inclination to deflate.

"Umm..." sighed Sherrie.

She brought her legs down, and I curled my legs around her left leg as we adjusted our bodies to fuck plainly deeper into the night.

It was the last night I had with Sherrie. She was dead by the following summer.