Sexual Solstice Read Online Free PDF Page B

had a role. Or the landscape. I grew up in the counties.”
    “Well whatever did it. It’s prime.”
    “Never heard it described that way.”
    “Now back onto your back. I need to have a look at––oh my goodness what balls! Were you raised on a cattle farm in the counties?”
    “Bane of my existence. Hard to keep them under control.”
    “We’ll see about that.” Gillian took Edgar’s ample balls and fondled them. “Wow, I hope these don’t get in the way while you’re playing squash.”
    “There have been a few accidents, to be honest.” Edgar rolled his eyes back in ecstasy.
    Soon a rise and some movement began, something that couldn’t be ignored. “You seem to like this.”
    “You could say.”
    “You shave them?”
    “Just a trim, you learn by observation in the club showers and change room. Seems de riguer nowadays. Good God that feels incredible.”
    “I’m only just touching them.”
    “But it’s the way you’re touching them.”
    “Do you like it?”
    “I didn’t realize they were so sensitive.”
    “Hasn’t anyone ever touched them?”
    “Not really. No. Usually lights are off and––”
    “You’re married?”
    “No. Not anymore.”
    “Someone special?” Gillian, for her few years, knew that getting involved with someone who was involved would only end in drama, histrionics and lots of sodden Kleenex. She’d seen what it had done to her mother and vowed it would not happen to her.
    “No.”
    When was the last time you had sex?” As she spoke the head of his cock became swollen like the head of the champagne cork. “What on earth, the end of this thing is huge.”
    “It’s been some time.” Gillian, in retrospect realized that for a man to not have had sex ‘in some time’ was a bad sign. Men, most men, the majority in fact, loved sex, or at least needed it. There was always a penis to be had, as long as your were selective.
    “Did your wife ever blow you?”
    “Oh God no. You know, lights out, that sort of thing, face to face. I don’t understand why she left me for someone more dashing when she didn’t seem to want to go the distance herself.”
    “Well you have a lovely prick and that knob, if you don’t mind my language, is very tasty looking.”  While Gillian spoke she felt Edgar’s hands slowly venture up her thighs, touching her public hair and then running along her tummy toward her breasts. “Enough about my cock. It’s you. You are so––well, my cock wouldn’t be doing what it’s doing if I didn’t feel this way about you.”
    “May I?” She asked.
    “Please do.” Edgar replied.
    And Gillian did, licking the mushroom head of Edgar’s cock until the shaft grew to a stiffness that betrayed his calm demeanour.
    “Oh my God, it still works.” Then Edgar moaned.
    “Mmmmm.” Gillian slowly started to move her lips lightly up and down the tight shaft, licking the head in a circular motion each time she returned to the top. Meanwhile Edgar’s fingers tickled the soft skin on the way from her tummy to her breasts.
    She couldn’t help thinking of the luxury that surrounded her. Though she wasn’t easily impressed, a king size bed was so much more pleasant than the futon back at her student digs. And champagne instead of cider. And a gentleman instead of Jack the Ripper-offer. So if someone had ever suggested that Gillian was a fortune hunter, or in search of a sugar daddy the answer was no. She just found it so much more convenient to be attracted to someone who paved the way with silver and gold.
    She brought Edgar to the brink, alternately kissing him––he was a remarkably good kisser––while her hand stroked him, and sucking his cock. His simple touch on her front was keeping her by him, on all fours, in throes of easy pleasure.
    Edgar gasped, “I can’t hold it any longer.”
    “Hold on,” Gillian manoeuvred herself, gripping the base of his cock until she could bring herself on top of him. She gently pressed down on the large