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length of her pussy. The mesh there was wet, lubrication pulsing from Julie in her excitement. Feeling an animal urge now to be inside her, to thrust hard into her tight body, to fuck her right there on the carpet until she cried out and shook in ecstasy, I practically tore her tights down her legs. Julie stepped quickly out of them and as I tossed them to one side she surprised me by suddenly sitting down on the carpet in front of me. As I looked down questioningly, Julie took hold of her feet, one in each hand and parted her thighs; her legs held out straight and spread wide, toes pointing. I could see her pussy, shaven pink vulva crowned with neatly trimmed dark hair. Its moist lips were parted invitingly. Julie looked up at me from under her eyebrows, mouth slightly open in almost a snarl of lust. Kneeling in front of her, my cock bobbing, I traced my fingers down from her ankles, along her legs to her inner thighs and finally to the damp folds of skin at her crotch. Her pussy twitched visibly as my fingernails ran up the smooth, skin either side of it. Our eyes met, in an almost challenging manner. Then the lust overwhelmed me and I fell upon her, hungry for her body. Julie lay back, feet on the soft carpet with knees bent, as I planted my hands either side of her shoulders and thrust my hips forward, socketing my cock deep into her pussy with a gasp from each of us. Julie felt incredible, the walls of her pussy so slick it was like sliding in and out of some near-frictionless lotion. Yet at the same time she gripped and relaxed in rhythm with my thrusts, squeezing my length as her hidden muscles worked their silent wonder - an iron grip in a slick, velvet glove. It took all the control I had not to break into as fast a pace as possible, thrusting in and out of her with our bellies clapping together. Instead, I managed to keep to a slow rhythm, rocking back and forth firmly, savouring the feel of her around me. Panting gently through her open mouth, Julie opened her eyes and smiled up at me, her head nodding slightly back and forth in time with our thrusts. “Okay,” she said, “Missionary position is Number One.” Her knees suddenly appeared either side of my elbows, just as I felt myself penetrating even deeper into her body. Julie gasped and then grinned at me. “Number Two.” After thrusting deeply into Julie in this delicious position for a while, I lifted myself until I was kneeling before her and then pressed down either side of her knees until they touched the carpet, holding them down there and continuing to rock in and out of her- her pussy making quiet, wet, noises as I worked. “Number Three.” I said. Julie sucked briefly at her bottom lip with her teeth, and then straightened


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out her legs. As I released her thighs, she lifted her legs inwards and up, resting her heels on my shoulders. Julie’s flexibility was amazing – she could perform full splits both front and side, to more than 180°. Eyes closed, she smiled up at me with an expression of almost lazy luxury on her pretty face. “Number Four.” she counted. And on we went, seamlessly and instinctively shifting to a new position, thrusting together in it for a short while and then moving on to another. We both took our turns on top, lying side by side, standing up, sat facing each other. We used our imagination and Julie’s suppleness to full advantage, experimenting with different variations, her body arching one way, then another, a single leg stretched out, the other, both; trying everything one way and another, laughing together and having fun, sometimes settling for longer periods of thrusting and gasping together as we found a position we both particularly liked. By the time we felt we had exhausted possibilities in the living room, the count was into the early twenties. Julie was on top riding me, leaning back with her hands on my lower thighs and grinding her clitoris into my crotch when I suggested we move to the kitchen. “Great idea. Let’s do it on the kitchen table!” Julie slipped up and backwards off my cock. As she swung one leg up and over me to turn away, I saw that her pussy was gaping widely open - her inner thighs and my belly now wet with a heady mix of our perspiration, my precum and her pussy honey. By the time Julie was laying back on the kitchen table, moaning as her sensitivity and excitement grew and grew, I gave brief but heartfelt thanks for the delaying ability of several bottles of good beer. We had been screwing for what seemed like ages and yet despite being more sexually aroused than I had ever felt before, I did not feel anywhere near ready to cum yet. Julie was often hard to bring to orgasm anyway; her thighs usually clamped together with a sharp cry of pleasure either side of my head, or forearm. She could rarely reach orgasm through intercourse, but had become a proactive and affirming lover, making a variety of positive noises and sounds that let me know she was enjoying herself and which turned me on immensely. After the table, we screwed with her sat on the kitchen work top, a glass jar of pasta and the cup tree rattling harmonically to Julie’s gasps, the soft percussion of our groins slapping together, and the low squitting and squelching noises of my cock pistoning in and out of her sticky pussy. An ice cube from the close-to-hand fridge freezer added a chilly thrill for both of us, arousing our skin and eventually dissolving in the furnace of her pussy, making Julie squeal as it slipped into her. We briefly considered going into the bedroom, agreed it was too mundane