Breaking Point Pt. 04

We pick up tennis star Paula's story where we left it in Pt. 3... (under Mature)

X

The die had been cast. The Rubicon crossed. Using the technique she had learned with Adriana, Paula virtually savaged Jack's penis. When he thought he couldn't take any more of her sideswiping movements along his seven-inch shaft, she suddenly turned her attention to his balls, combining tenderness with a ferocious gusto.

She pushed the envelope out by tracing her finger along his perineum towards his asshole. Jack couldn't take in what was happening to him - the multiplicity of sense impressions threatened to neutralise him, nay, to annihilate him. Never, ever, even in the early days, had he felt anything like this with Chrissie. He was secretly thankful that his mind was all over the place, as at least this meant that he wasn't likely to ejaculate. The idea that Paula would look at him like a teenager in heat was something he couldn't bear. She wanted a mature man, she looked up to him (well, kind of), and he was darned if he was going to spoil everything by scattering his semen all over the bed, the floor, whatever - shit! the ceiling the way she was making him feel.

'You like it when I suck your balls?' Paula said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

'God, yeah!' Jack replied, in as level a voice as he could get his hands on.

'Would you like me to suck your cock deep?'

'Fuck, yes!' he answered, with economy.

'Then you will eat me out?'

'God, yeah, Paula!' he replied, no longer the attorney with the renowned oratorical skills.

Paula ran her manicured nails along a vein that was throbbing on the underside of his penis.

Jack tried to suppress a moan, but with only limited success. This girl was so good, just phenomenal. He wondered about all the men on whom she'd mastered her technique. But not for long. When she replaced fingers with lips and tongue and began to work on the length of his shaft once more, he found that any wandering thoughts were being concentrated wonderfully.

He took possession of himself as best he could and ran his fingers through her blonde hair, which was still tied in a ponytail. For an instant, he imagined her in pigtails, causing his cock to jerk wildly. Paula took it as a compliment on her oral skills and was soon testing Jack's endurance by placing her mouth over his domed, angry-looking, purple head once more.

She found the taste and texture of human flesh so much more to her liking than the artificial tactility of Adriana's strap-on. Of course, though, the acid test would be just how well Jack could employ his equipment and how long he would be able to keep it up for. She liked to think that the novelty and the forbidden nature of being with her would help keep Jack good for purpose, and so far, at any rate, her approach/technique seemed to be striking all the right notes.

As she began to descend his shaft, she started to wonder if she would be able to get Jack to cum. She'd seen him cum in the bathroom just thinking about her, so she reckoned chances were pretty good that he would blow his wad down her throat. She just hoped she'd be able to handle it okay. It was one thing to have a massive obstruction in your mouth, quite another to have it unloading its cargo down your gullet! Anyway, she'd just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

Deeper still she went on his column - a journey which wasn't made any easier by the fact that his cock wouldn't stop bouncing about. She nearly asked him to stop doing it, before she realised that she was very likely the cause of his discomfiture. Well, no - it was no discomfort to him (he probably enjoyed the sensation) - it was she who found it a bit of a pain in the neck. Or, more accurately, the throat.

Something about Jack's voice (and especially the things he came out with when he was aroused) really got to Paula. His moaning and groaning was all well and good, but what she really wanted to be receiving through the aural channel was more of that stuff he'd been coming up with of late. Laconic though it might be, the likes of 'Fuck, yes!' and 'God, yeah!' were music to her ears.

This Jack was so different from the polite and serious Jack she had known since she was a child. The Jack who would either be in his office with all those legal books or in the garage fixing things or in the yard mowing the lawn (he always did that himself - he seemed to love his lawn-mower more than almost anything else) when Paula had gone round to his place as a child to bake cakes and cookies with Chrissie.

Obviously, with her mouth wrapped around his schlong, she was in no position to make requests, so the only solution to her little problem she could think of was to do something that would really get Jack's attention. Something that Chrissie would never do - not for him, anyway.

She placed her hand on his buttocks, which were a little hairy, but nothing too gross, and moved it towards his asshole. She got a response, but not exactly the one she was looking for, as his cock jiggled about some more in her mouth. She moved a finger very slowly and very deliberately towards her target and in response felt his hands, which had been hanging loosely by his sides, clamp themselves on the back of her head - much the way that Adriana had done when she wanted Paula to bring her off.

This was okay - very encouraging in its own way - but Paula's need to hear Jack come out with the most un-Jack like stuff she could think of was getting to be something of an obsession. Of course, she didn't know if he was an ass man. She was pretty sure he hadn't been with a man (but even the idea of that as it flashed through her mind did strange things to her), but she sensed there were hidden depths to Jack which hadn't been plumbed.

'God!' she exclaimed to herself. 'Maybe he's thought about doing me in the ass!'

Those pictures he'd taken of her around the pool - the so-called 'group shots'. Maybe he took them when the others weren't looking, when she was turned away from him, so he was getting basically ass shots and not pussy shots.

'My god!' she thought. 'I know what he was doing. He was waiting until I bent down and then taking photos of me in burst mode! Then, when everybody had left, he told Chrissie he had work to do before turning in, went to his office, locked the door, looked at the images, enlarged them, printed them out, grabbed a fistful of tissues, lay down on the couch and rubbed himself raw until he'd emptied his ball bag!'

When Paula's finger made contact with his asshole, it was like every slot machine in Vegas disgorging its contents at the same time. First came the output on the audio channel that Paula had been hoping for.

'Oh, for fuck's sake! NO! Fuck you, bitch! You fucking tart!'

Next came what was becoming very much Jack's signature - the juddering of his penis within her mouth.

Finally, with a guttural roar the like of which she'd never heard before (and heavens! there were plenty of screamers on the women's tour), he blasted what appeared to be a never-ending stream of cum down her throat.

Not only that, he was holding her by her ponytail and bucking just like he was in a bronco down south somewhere. It was all Paula could do not to bite down on his flesh - she had so much going on and she really, really wanted to be able to breathe properly again and just get a bit of relief for her tired mouth muscles. Not to mention her poor tongue.

XI

Seeing that he had no intention of extricating himself from her, she took matters into her own hands and pushed him off. She wondered if perhaps she hadn't been a bit rough with him, but soon realised that that was exactly how he wanted it!

In one fluid, easy movement, he lifted her up and deposited her on the bed - the same one that he wasn't going to sleep in just a short while before because he'd be a gentleman and use the spare room, blah, blah, blah!

Ripping off his polo shirt, he kicked off his loafers and yanked off Paula's tennis shoes, not even bothering to unlace them. As Paula lay there not caring to help him out by arching her body, he tore off the sweatpants. When her pink tennis skirt was revealed, he gave an animalistic grunt and, leaving it be for the moment, pulled her sweatshirt up and over her head. Since she was offering no assistance, to do this he had to clamber onto the bed and manhandle her into a position from which he could get the operation done.

She had deliberately chosen her cutest tennis kit - the one that always got the most interest from fans and photographers alike - a light pink tank top style top paired with a skirt in a slightly darker shade. Now that he was so much closer to his goal, the frenzy that had been threatening to overwhelm Jack abated and he began to take a little time out to appreciate his prize.

Paula responded to his more tender approach by trailing her fingers down his chest - a little hairy, like his bum. She couldn't help but note that his penis was still bone hard, nor that cum was leaking freely from it head. Instinctively, she collected some in her fingers and brought it to her mouth. It seemed to taste even better after it had been allowed to breathe - like a fine wine.

He startled her by speaking to her in more or less everyday language and in something close to his normal voice.

'Sit up so I can get this top off.'

She watched his face carefully as he did so, keen to get his reaction to the new bra she had bought. Together with the matching pair of panties, it was the sluttiest thing she'd ever bought - by far. The colour was ivory, but it wasn't about the colour. It was about the design. It was as if the designer was working on a tight budget or the manufacturer had been very low on material. Three thin straps supported (if that was the right word) two hollowed out cups. Only a lacy floral design placed on the single intermediate strut provided any cover for the nipple. In cases, like hers, where the nipple had become enlarged, then the cover was not absolutely 100 percent.

'My god!' he breathed, as if in the presence of a goddess.

His eyes were trained on her buds, their pinkness scarcely visible, but their shape and their extent clearly discernible by the distorting effect they had on the cotton.

With trembling hands, he reached down and placed his hands gently on the elastic waistband of the skirt. Paula helped out by raising her ass off the bed. He slid the skirt slowly down her legs - very slowly, as if he thought in this way he might be able to make a pair of matching panties materialise.

He needed have worried: there before his scarcely believing eyes were five thin strands of cloth, the centre one adorned by the same floral pattern, which was somehow able to screen her jewel. Tucked away neatly behind its trellis he was able to discern wispy blonde strands of her pubic hair.

Leaning forward, he kissed Paula gently on the mouth. She let herself fully down onto the bed and closed her eyes, believing that somehow it might be even better if she withdrew into a special secret place of her own and let her experienced lover discover her - all of her - bit by bit.

He kissed differently from Adriana, of course, but also from the boys she had kissed in the past. It would perhaps be being unkind to say that he kissed like a lawyer, but he had a methodical manner, as if he were wished to cover every eventuality. His penis, on the other hand, knew no such restraint and was always looking to cross boundaries. Thus far, it had remained as hard as Adriana's toy, which surprised Paula, because she was under the impression that these things went limp after they had shot their load.

She was not so naïve as to fail to understand that she probably had a lot to do with his ultra- aroused state, but it still gave her a tremendous kick to think she could do such things to a man. An older, experienced man, to boot. She wondered if a younger guy - more her own age - would get so het up if he were in the same situation. Maybe being married to the same person for 20-plus years took its toll. She certainly couldn't see herself being with the same man or woman for all that time.

While they kissed, she couldn't resist seeking out his cock and giving it a bit of a massage. Jack's immediate response was the one she had become familiar with when she was blowing him: it started to leap about under her touch, like a Rottweiler on a short leash.

'Oh fuck, yeah!' he crooned. 'You've got magic in your fingers.'

Paula knew he wanted her to service him orally again but she felt she must put her foot down. After all, you can always get too much of a good thing. On the other hand, she was keen for a bit of attention herself. Rather than say anything, she moved her body up the bed a bit so that Jack's face was above her breasts, scarcely covered by the thong-like covering.

'You like them, don't you?' she said in a slightly schoolgirlish kind of way, which she thought would go down a treat with a man like Jack.

She wasn't mistaken. Jack nodded at her enthusiastically.

'Then why don't you show me?' said Paula, unclasping the buckle and letting the scrap of lace fall onto the bed.

As Jack worked on her tits (pretty proficiently, all things considered, even if a bit slobbery for her tastes), Paula's eye caught a framed photograph of Chrissie, which appeared to be watching over them. It must have been taken a few years back, as her face was considerably less lined as well as being a little chubbier. Paula couldn't decide if she preferred the older model or the younger one.

In her mind's eye, she peeled off the blouse that Chrissie was wearing and imagined her breasts straining to escape the confines of their bra. She saw it as an expensive bra, made of satin, shimmering over the load it was carrying. Paula slipped a finger into her pussy and found it to be very wet. She could see that Jack had noticed her movement and she was happy that Jack would think it was he who was getting her into such a state - which, up to a point, he was.

Paula would have bet a hefty sum that Jack had fantasised about his wife making out with her. Naturally, in his fantasy, he would be no mere onlooker but would join in and service them both, reconfirming their commitment to cock in addition to - and taking precedence over - pussy. Clearly, from the way that she was becoming so aroused, it was something of a fantasy of Paula's as well. Chrissie had never given the remotest inkling of being attracted to her (or women in general, as far as Paula could remember) but then again Paula herself was living proof that appearances can be deceptive.

Jack was sucking hard on one of her nipples now - not without skill, if a little too hard for Paula's taste. By this time, she really wanted him to be eating her out, but knew it was important not to rush him, in case he felt that he had somehow failed. She needed to encourage him in the belief that he was doing a fabulous job so he felt a million dollars and would give it his best shot pussy-wise. All of which meant that a little faking was in order.

'Oh, Jack, that feels so good. My pussy is getting so wet. Please attend to my needs before I boil over.'

It sounded ridiculous really, Paula thought, like a line in a porno, but to Jack it sounded like the second movement of Brahms' String Quartet.

'May I?' he said, putting his slightly rough hands on Paula's hips and tugging at the double-spaghetti-strapping that functioned as the flimsy garment's de facto waistband.

By way of reply, Paula merely raised her ass a fraction and before you could say 'Sweet teenage pussy' Paula had kicked the scrap to the floor and Jack had baptised his tongue in her sweet nectar.

Gone, though, was the methodical lawyer who had plotted his way round her mouth. In his place had arrived a veritable rock star on speed and cocaine and all the other things they were reputed to ingest and inject. This time there was to be no faking.

'Aww, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' groaned Paula, as the tongue cut a swathe across her folds and into (and then almost instantly back out of) her vagina.

Her hands clenched so tightly in the bedsheets that she tore them with her nails, she lay there - her legs as wide as they would go, her back arched in a vain attempt to get Jack to insert his tongue even deeper.

'Fuck! Fuck!'

Paula went prattling on like an Anglo-Saxon wench who'd missed out on Swiss finishing school. Jack, for his part, was so much in the zone that he wasn't even aware what she was articulating.

'God! If he fucks like he licks, I'm in for the mother and father of nights,' Paula thought, during a break of sorts from the assault she was undergoing.

'Lick my asshole, Jack!' Paula yelled at him, as if he was in the next room.

Jack was brought short for a moment. Chrissie hated being touched there. Once, when he had broached the idea of anal sex (very subtly, he thought), she had switched on the light, picked up a book and refused to speak to him for 24 hours. And now this gorgeous babe was begging him to lick her right there! Hell, she might even allow him to fuck her there too, if his performance was up to scratch.

Before he had time to reply (though how do you reply to an offer you can't refuse?), Paula had flipped over and was virtually shoving her delectable booty in his face.

'If only Bob could see me now!' thought Jack, referencing his partner - a man who thought he was God's gift to women, who was constantly telling Jack stories about his almost nightly conquests.

Not that he could share any details about this particular liaison.

With the same zeal he had shown on the other side, Jack set his killer tongue to work on Paula's gorgeous asshole. 'Cute' wasn't the word. This little baby was so damned fine that it couldn't have looked better if it had been painted by Renoir.

'Aw, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' yelled Paula, causing Jack to do a mental check that he'd closed all the windows giving out on to the street.

The temptation proved too much. Jack never quite forgave himself for what happened next. Without even consulting Paula, he brought his adamantine cock to her glory hole and drove it hard inside her.

'Eugh!' Paula gasped, as his shaft broke down her defences.

Utterly unconstrained, like a beast released from its shackles, Jack fucked her like there was no tomorrow. All those years of repressed desire found their outlet in this virtual rape. Even had she told him to stop, he reflected later that he would have been unable to accede to her demand.

With devastating power he pounded her until he could sense that she was on the point of succumbing to her basest desires.

'Unload your sperm inside me, Jack!' she cried, transported to a place she never knew even existed, as the orgasm rendered her almost insensate.

Rather than responding verbally, the lawyer grunted like a wild boar, which was merely the prelude to the release of wave upon wave of steaming hot spunk, which flooded her back passage.