I expected Ken Sacks to pick me up at about four thirty, but by three, I was packed and getting ready to go. I hung my silvery cocktail dress in a garment bag and carefully folded everything into a small suitcase.

After a shower, I picked out a lovely cream-colored pair of tailored dress slacks with a sharp crease running down the legs. To contrast the color of my slacks, I picked a brown satin blouse with light ruffles in front of the buttons; it has a higher neckline and fitted cuffs at the wrist. I carried the contrasting color to my shoes, choosing a pair of dark brown leather heels. With my travel outfit selected, I turned to my hair and makeup.

I wanted my makeup to match the colors of my clothing, so I selected a shade of eye shadow that closely matched the color of my blouse. I like my eyes to look sultry, so I always use dark eyeliner and mascara. My skin is no longer flawless at my age, so I applied a light foundation followed by blush. Fortunately, I have a wide array of colors for my lips and used a matte finish lipstick that matched the color of my blouse. Finishing my makeup, I surveyed the results. I had a sultry appearance, which was just the image I wanted when Ken first saw me later today.

Turning to my hair, I decided to go the exact opposite of the style I'd chosen for his class reunion picnic when I had my hair back in a tight ponytail. Using my curling iron, I styled my hair with tight curls and brushed them out to give it a lovely, wavy look. It just touched my shoulders when I finished. Since I knew we would be traveling for some time, I gave my hair a squirt or two of hair spray to hold everything in place. A dab of perfume behind each ear and, for good measure, one between my breasts finished my preparations for Ken's arrival.

The final step was to get my clothes on; I knew the slacks that I'd selected fit snuggly over my ass, so as usual, I slipped on a black lace thong. I thought about going braless, knowing the satin fabric of my blouse would cause my nipples to harden some, but opted for the bra since there was a possibility of someone other than Ken seeing me during our travels tonight. Slipping on my heels, I walked to the full-length mirror and checked my appearance. The reflection was precisely what I wanted: a classy, mature woman. I was certain Ken would see the same.

I carried my garment bag and small suitcase downstairs and put them on the chair in my foyer. It was twenty minutes to five when I stepped outside; the sky was aglow with shades of pink and red, and there was a bit of a nip in the air. I thought about running back upstairs to get a sweater or light jacket but figured I'd only be in the cooler night air when Ken and I dashed from his SUV to wherever he was taking me.

I stepped back inside to wait for his arrival. The excitement of what I knew would be a fantastic weekend made me anxious to start it. Another ten minutes passed before my doorbell finally rang. I glanced in the foyer mirror to ensure everything was perfect and then slowly opened the door.

Ken was dressed in khaki slacks and a light tan shirt. His smile told me that my time preparing for him was well spent. "Sorry, I'm late," he said.

I returned his smile and replied, "It's not a problem. I'm yours for as long as you like."

"We have a two-hour drive, so let's hit the road, Angel," Ken said.

I turned and picked up my suitcase, which he quickly took from my hand along with the garment bag. I put my purse over my shoulder and turned off the light in the foyer.

"I'm so excited about this weekend," I said, following him along the narrow walk to my driveway.

As we neared the driveway, the motion sensor spotlights on the garage lit up a shiny little sports car. "Where's your SUV?" I asked.

"That thing is no fun to drive. I figured we'd take my new toy," Ken remarked.

He quickly opened the trunk between the headlights, squeezed my suitcase beside his overnight bag, and carefully placed my garment bag on top.

I walked around the back of his car, which had a wing mounted about a foot above the backend. Just below the wing and between the tail lights it said. "Porsche GT 3." I've heard of this make before but couldn't recall ever riding in one. Ken met me at the passenger door and pulled it open as he said, "You have to kinda slide into the seat."

I looked inside, and the seat was contoured to hold you in place.

"It's good I didn't wear a tight skirt tonight," I said as I slipped into his car.

Ken walked around the front and sat down in the driver's seat. As he buckled his seat belt, he said, "You should buckle up."

"I'll wrinkle my clothes," I replied.

He turned to me and explained, "This car goes from zero to sixty in about three seconds. It has a top speed of just under two hundred miles per hour. If you fly through the windshield, your clothes will be more than wrinkled."

I clicked my seatbelt closed.

"What's a car like this cost?" I asked.

Ken laughed and replied, "If you have to ask, you can't afford it, but since you did, I'll tell you I got a great deal. It only cost me a hundred ninety."

I was astonished that he would or could spend almost two hundred thousand dollars for what he called his toy. I was in the company of an extremely wealthy man.

He backed out of the driveway and began driving out of my development. I watched the movement of his hand on the shifter as he changed gears. The distance between gears was minuscule; his hand barely moved. I settled into the contoured seat, which was very comfortable, knowing it would be a pleasurable ride.

Ken turned right onto the northbound ramp of the interstate; as he started up the entrance ramp, he said, "Hold on to your hat."

He gunned the engine, pushing me back into the seat; seconds later, we flew along in the left lane. "I love this car," Ken remarked as he slowed down from what had to be over one hundred miles per hour.

"That was so cool," I remarked, then asked, "Can I drive this puppy sometime this weekend?"

Ken glanced over at me and replied, "Sure, but only in the daylight."

I didn't speak for a while but continually glanced at him as the light of day faded. Ken's profile could have been sculptured in stone; every feature, from his jawline to his nose and eyebrows, was well defined. If I had to compare his look to someone better known, I'd think of the 1970's Marlboro Man.

"How far are we going?" I asked to try to get him talking a little.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment, then said, "It's about a hundred seventy miles."

I did some quick calculations in my head. If the drive takes two hours and we're traveling one hundred seventy miles, we would average about eighty-seven miles per hour.

"Any idea how much longer before we get there?" I asked, almost like a child asking if we were there yet.

Ken laughed and replied, "Depends."

"Depends on what?" I asked.

"If we stop for something to eat, and how heavy is the traffic?" Ken answered.

I didn't want to wait any longer than necessary to discover his surprise, so I offered, "I'm not very hungry right now."

"Then we'll keep going," Ken said.

"Good because I'm excited to see where we're going and what we'll be doing," I commented.

Ken glanced at me as he said, "Where is a surprise. What is kinda obvious."

I moved my hand from my lap and softly placed it on his thigh. "We can't fuck the entire weekend," I answered.

"We can't?" Ken said as he covered my hand with his.

I gave him a little squeeze and teased him, "You really should keep both hands on the wheel."

He returned his hand to the steering wheel and gunned the engine; in an instant, we had to be going over a hundred.

"Don't you worry about speeding tickets?" I asked.

"Naw, I just write the check," he replied.

He skillfully weaved in and out of traffic, which was fairly light, passing other motorists like they were standing still.

I found it rather exhilarating to travel that fast, and I was sure the adrenalin coursed through his arteries. A short time later, we flashed across the state line, and Ken backed off a bit, slowing to near the speed limit.

"Be there in twenty minutes," he said.

The anticipation of where he was taking me started to build, and I watched for any signs that might tip me off.

Other than the typical motel signs and a few advertising camping resorts, I didn't have a clue.

Ken slowed to exit speed and steered the GT3 onto a ramp marked with a sign EXIT 13. Lucky thirteen, I thought.

After stopping, or almost stopping, he turned left. Across the intersection, there were several more signs. One read "Lake of the Pines" in bold letters beneath “PRIVATE COMMUNITY.”

A few miles further, Ken slowed the Porsche to a crawl and turned into the entrance of Lake of the Pines; he guided the car to a stop beside a guard shack and opened the window.

"Mr. Sacks, it's been quite a long time since you visited." The unnamed guard said from his position behind the sliding glass window.

"Been busy, Frank," Ken replied, giving the guard a name.

"How long will you be staying?" Frank asked.

Ken answered, "Till Sunday night; was my cleaning crew in?"

Frank flipped through a few pages held to a clipboard and then replied. "They were here most of the day Thursday."

"Great are you working Sunday evening?" Ken asked him.

"Yes, I am," Frank replied.

Good, I'll see you when I check out then," Ken said.

"Have a great weekend, Mr. Sacks," Frank said as the heavy iron gate barring entry swung open.

As he pulled away, Ken looked at me and said, "I hired Frank twenty years ago."

I thought it was odd that Ken would have hired a security guard for this private community, but I didn't go into it then, figuring I'd learn more about this place and Ken's involvement.

Every quarter mile or so, the ten-mile-per-hour speed limit was posted on small signs, and unlike the speed limit of sixty-five on the interstate, Ken obeyed these signs. At that speed, I could see every home we passed, each more spectacular than the one before.

"Some residents live here year-round, and others only come up during the summer or on weekends," Ken remarked.

In the distance, I could see lights reflecting off the surface of a lake. "That must be the lake?" I asked.

"Yes, it is," Ken answered.

Finally, after an eternity at ten miles per hour, Ken turned into a driveway leading through a heavily wooded area. The drive rose a long incline, and the trees had been removed at the top. I finally got my first look at Ken's surprise.

I could only see light in one window, but as Ken approached, motion sensor lights came on, lighting not only the manicured lawn in front, and the façade of a rustic-looking log cabin.

"Welcome to my retreat," Ken said as he stopped the GT3 in front.

"This is awesome," I commented, trying to take in every detail.

Ken exited his seat, walked around the Porsche, opened my door, and offered his hand. I, of course, happily accepted not only because I welcomed his touch but also because getting out of his car without help would be, at best, difficult.

As I stood up, the chilly night air surrounded my body, and I felt my nipples harden some. He took my hand in his, and together, we climbed the dozen or so stairs to a massive front porch. Several seating areas were scattered along the front of the cabin, and there was a hammock at the corner where the porch was wrapped around one side.

He released my hand and placed his in the small of my back as we approached the massive wooden front door.

"It's not much, but I like it," Ken said as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

I entered the dimly lit entrance and waited for Ken to flip a light switch. His remark that it's not much was the understatement of the year. The switch he flipped lit a massive wagon wheel chandelier hanging in the middle of the foyer. Small candle-shaped lights were mounted around the circumference, each topped with a bulb that flickered like a flame.

"Impressive," I remarked.

He moved behind me and placed his hands on my hips. "I'd like to put the Porsche in the garage and bring our luggage in. The kitchen is over that way," he said, pointing toward a doorway off to the right.

His hand returned to my waist then both slid down to cover my ass. "I can't wait to show you the bedroom," Ken said before gently squeezing my cheeks.

As he moved away, I turned and said, "Neither can I."

I thought about snooping into other rooms off the foyer but decided to wait until Ken gave me the grand tour. I found the light switch inside the kitchen, which controlled a rustic-looking ceiling fan in the center of the ceiling.

This kitchen wasn't nearly as fancy as the one in his home down south; it was more functional, with all the necessary appliances and countertops to prepare a decent meal. Everything from the fan to the cabinets to the wide plank wood flooring had that rustic log cabin appearance.

I leaned against the center island, waiting for Ken to appear from the garage, which he did in short order. He was carrying my luggage as well as his small overnight bag. He placed the bags on the floor, opened the pantry, and hung my garment bag over the door.

"Doesn't seem to be anything in this," Ken commented as he slid his hand down over the bag.

I smiled and replied, "It's just enough."

Ken approached where I was leaning against the counter and placed his hands on my hips. "You hungry?" he asked.

"Hungry for this," I replied as I moved one hand to his crotch and stroked along the shaft of his cock.

He smiled and squeezed my hips a little. "You don't want the fifty-cent tour?"

"I sure do. I can't wait to see the rest of your retreat," I replied.

Ken took my hand and led me toward a doorway to another room. "I'll give you a quick tour, but I'd like to sit down and have a bite to eat. I haven't eaten since early this morning," Ken remarked.

"That'll work," I replied, knowing that while we had some food, I could question him about his life and what he does to afford expensive toys and at least two high-end homes.

"This is the game room," Ken said as we entered.

It was a large room with various games: vintage pinball, a shooting arcade, shuffleboard, fosse ball, and, of course, a massive pool table. Like his home down south, there was a felt-covered card table in one corner with six player positions.

"I like this room; maybe we could shoot some eight ball sometime this weekend," I suggested.

"You any good?" Ken asked.

"Not really, but I can be very distractive to my opponent," I replied with a grin.

"Follow me," Ken said as he walked toward the French doors leading out the back of the game room.

We stepped out onto a large wooden deck, probably twenty feet across and as wide as the back of the cabin. Like the front porch, there were several seating areas, but instead of a hammock, tucked in one corner was a large hot tub.

"Is that why you asked me to bring a swimsuit?" I asked.

"Not really," Ken replied.

"Good, because I normally like to soak in the nude," I explained.

He took my hand and walked me to an opening in the railing across the back of the deck. I could see steps leading off the deck, and when Ken flipped a switch mounted on one post, I got to see what the suit was for. The switch lit up a full-size swimming pool. Lights surrounding the pool and under the water showed wisps of steam rising from the surface.

"It's heated?" I asked.

"Yep, there's nothing better than swimming on a cold winter night and then quickly getting into the hot tub," Ken remarked.

Ken flipped the lights off, took my hand in his, and led me back toward the house.

So far, I'd seen three places where he and I could fuck the pool table, hot tub, and, of course, the swimming pool.

Ken explained his ideas about this home as we walked back through the kitchen. "I designed this place to be totally relaxed, with no formal dining or living room. I wanted it to be a place where I and my guests could spend quality time without the constrictions of life in the city."

"From what I've seen so far, your design is right on," I commented.

We walked back into the foyer, across to a room with a closed door. As Ken opened the door, he said, "This is my study; sometimes, I come up alone to spend the weekend working."

I squeezed his hand and replied, "You won't be spending any time in here this weekend."

Ken just smiled.

"Let me grab your things, and I'll show you the upstairs," Ken said.

"I think we should take a break and have something to eat," I suggested. I wanted to eat a little, turn off all the lights downstairs, and spend the remainder of the evening upstairs.

"Okay, that'll work; I'm famished," Ken replied.

Once back in the kitchen, Ken opened the refrigerator door and reached inside. "Well, at least we'll have something to drink," he said as he showed me two diet sodas.

"I should have asked my cleaning crew to stock some food for the weekend," he remarked.

He got the same result when he surveyed the pantry. "How do you feel about peanut butter and jelly on crackers?" he asked as he turned toward me.

I just smiled at him and said, "We can run to the grocery store in the morning."

We sat down next to each other at the center island. As Ken spread the crackers, I said, "Can I ask you some questions?"

"Sure, Angel, ask me anything," he replied.

"Earlier, when we arrived, you had said that you hired Frank twenty years ago," I started.

"I did," he replied.

"I'm wondering how you were involved in hiring the staff for this place," I asked.

Ken turned on his stool toward me, "I'll explain; my father asked me what I wanted as a graduation gift when I finished college. I asked him for land and he purchased two hundred acres surrounding the lake. He told me to develop the land as I saw fit."

His explanation gave me some insight into how he'd hired Frank and reinforced the idea that Ken Sacks comes for old money.

He continued, "After designing the road around the lake, I subdivided what was left into eighty-two lots. Lakefront lots sold for one point five million and the others for one million each. I cleared one hundred twenty million on the sale of lots, which took almost ten years."

"Oh, my gosh!" I exclaimed.

"This place is on five acres and sits on the highest elevation in the area," he said.

"I can't wait to see it in the daylight," I remarked.

Ken took a sip from his can of soda and slipped a peanut butter cracker onto his tongue.

"You're very wealthy, aren't you?" I asked a rather bold question.

He smiled and replied, "I have twenty times that invested in real estate in the city."

"You certainly don't act like it," I commented.

He smiled and said, "Not everyone is as glitzy as the Donald."

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"Yes, but I don't associate with him or his kind," Ken replied.

I washed the peanut butter that was stuck to the roof of my mouth down with a huge swig of my soda, screwed the lid on the jar, and softly said, "Show me your bedroom."

He smiled and replied, "It'll be my pleasure."

He had no idea how much pleasure we would share between now and Sunday night.

Ken gathered our bags, and we headed toward the stairway, each side protected by log-shaped handrails and banisters

"Let me get the lights," I said as I flipped the switch that had activated the wagon wheel chandelier when we first stepped into his retreat.

We climbed the stairs in near-total darkness, but once we reached the top, Ken turned on a dim light on a table next to the stairs.

I follow him to the door on the right. As he opened the door, he said, "This is your room."

"My room?" I questioned.

"Everyone needs some privacy; a place to change, a place to reflect, a place to recover," he replied.

I wasn't planning on needing much privacy, and I certainly would recover in his arms, but a separate room to change wasn't that bad an idea.

Ken placed my suitcase and garment back on the bed, then took my hand, "Let me show you the rest."

Ken pointed toward the door on the left as we walked out onto the landing, "That's a spare bedroom." I didn't need to see it. With my hand in his, we approached the middle door.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, "This is the master bedroom."

He let me enter first. Had he said this was the master bedroom, or did he say the master's bedroom? I didn't think that really mattered, as I'd be more than happy to be his sexual servant if he wanted.

The switch inside the door controlled a pair of lamps on either side of the headboard. A massive bed created with heavy logs and a uniquely carved headboard. A large wooden chest with an upholstered seat hid the footboard of the bed. I wondered what the chest contained. Other than the bed, the furniture included a chest of drawers and a large overstuffed chair on the side wall—rather spartan furnishings for a man of his wealth.

"What a comfortable room," I said, not wanting to let on that it was a little disappointing.

Ken tossed his overnight bag toward the chest of drawers, then walked toward me.

His hands moved to the buttons, holding my satin blouse around my neck. As he undid them, he said, "What happens here stays here."

I understood that once he'd offered some of his past, he wanted me to be very discrete going forward.

I placed my hands on his hips and looked up into his bright eyes. "I enjoyed playing the role of your wife last weekend at the picnic," I said.

"That was fun," Ken remarked.

I slid my hand down to softly stroke his cock through his slacks as I continued, "I thought it might be fun to continue that role-play tonight. We can consummate our fake marriage."

He smiled widely at me and shook his head yes.

"I'd like you to get comfortable and give me a few minutes alone," I asked.

His fingers moved down and lifted the satin ruffles covering the buttons of my blouse. He undid two, then spread the fabric open, exposing my upper chest.

I grabbed his hands and guided them down my sides to my hips and then around to my ass as I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. It was a short kiss but one that had us both wanting more.

His hands slid off my ass as I moved back from him. I turned toward the door, but when I reached it, I paused and turned to face him again.

"By comfortable, I meant totally naked," I said with a wide smile on my lips.

He was already lifting this sports shirt above his head when I left the room and headed for my private room.

Once there, I stripped out of my clothing as quickly as I could, tossing my satin blouse and lacy bra on the bed, followed by my slacks and thong.

I opened my suitcase and removed the bridal set I'd purchased for this evening. I slipped the lace garter over my hips, making sure the four suspenders dangled at the same place on each leg. Next, I gathered one stocking on my hands and carefully slipped my foot into it, slowly pulling it over my knee and stretching the top hem evenly around my thigh. After checking that the dark seam ran perfectly straight up my leg, I clipped the stockings to the suspenders and then slipped on my white heels. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, knowing that this could be what I'd be wearing when Ken started pounding my cunt with his rock-hard cock. The image of that caused my nipples to harden.

In short order, I slipped the lace thong up my legs and over the garter, pulling the ultra-thin straps high on my hips. I thought for a moment about not wearing the bra but decided he might enjoy removing it from my chest to expose my soft tits. As I stretched the lace cups over my chest, I realized the bra was a little small; my tits oozed out over the top of the cups. I liked the appearance.

Finally, the bridal veil; I'd been thinking about this during the drive tonight. That virginal covering for a blushing bride when her groom first sees her as she walks down the aisle; I'd give it a whole new meaning shortly.

The comb holding it in place grasped my hair, and I pulled the flimsy material over my head. It flowed over my body, covering all but the very top of my stockings and an inch or so of creamy white flesh above.

I looked at myself again in the mirror and smiled, knowing that Ken Sacks would surely appreciate the effort I'd made to please him visually from the start.

As I approached the door to his bedroom, I announced, "Here comes your bride."

He was seated in the overstuffed chair, stark naked, holding his erect cock in one hand. His mouth dropped open when he first laid eyes on me, and as I stepped toward him, placing one foot directly in front of the other, his eyes widened, as did his brilliant smile.

"Oh, my god," Ken said, extending the last word.

My sexy stroll complete, I came to a stop directly in front of him. As I lifted my hands to my hips, I said, "You look comfortable enough."

He smiled and replied, "Everything except this."

He moved his rock-hard cock back and forth.

"I'll take care of that," I said with a smile on my lips.

I stood there for a moment, giving him time to memorize the image before him, then hooked my index fingers under the thin straps of my thong, pulling them even higher above my hips.

His eyes roamed up and down my form, as his hand slowly rose up and down his rock-hard cock.

The tiny patch of lace covering my cunt was now pulled tight, giving me a sexy camel toe.

I wanted to sound like a blushing bride as I spoke, "May I touch it?" I asked.

"Yes, please touch it," Ken replied.

I moved forward and knelt between his wide-open legs, slowly lifting my delicate hands to his knees.

His balls rested on the cushion at the very edge, and above, his rock-hard cock rose from his loins. I took a moment to study his cock; the head was shaped like a mushroom capped with a flaring corona. Below, the shaft was covered with dark veins carrying blood to every part.

I looked up into his eyes. Those brilliant eyes were pleading for me to begin. I leaned forward, touching the flimsy fabric of my veil against his balls, then rose until the lace fringe slid over his scrotum. Ken's eyes were fixed on mine as I slowly slid my hands up the top of his thighs. I ran one hand up onto his abdomen, the other moving down and beneath the veil. Gathering the fabric in my hand, I slid it up over his balls and surrounded his throbbing cock shaft with the material and my delicate hand. Very slowly, I stroked up until his sensitive cock head was captured in my palm; I twisted my hand around the corona and then stroked down again, allowing Ken to experience the sensation of having his cock pleasured by my fabric-covered hand.

"That's so fucking sexy," Ken remarked as I cupped his balls.

Looking up at him through the veil, I asked, "May I suck it?"

Ken shook his head yes.

Moving my hand up from his balls, I circled the rock-hard shaft with my hand wrapping his cock in the fabric. I drew it forward and moved my mouth toward his cock head.

"Oh, my fucking God," Ken said as I opened my mouth and drew his veil-covered cock head inside.

I was amazed at how the feel of this rock-hard cock covered with flimsy fabric felt as I took more between my lips.

My tongue swirled around his head, giving the sensitive corona a sensual licking.

I rose, letting his cock slip from my mouth but kept it surrounded by the veil and my soft hand.

"Do you like the way your new bride sucks cock?" I asked.

"I do," Ken replied.

I repeated the process over and over, each time taking a little more of his magnificent cock inside my mouth.

He was mesmerized by the sight before him, studying every move I made with my hand and mouth.

I straightened up and leaned over him, bringing our mouths within inches of one another. "Kiss your bride," I said.

Ken tried to kiss me through the veil, but the fabric blocked his tongue. He leaned back, slowly drew the veil, then dropped it behind my head.

I wanted his kiss; I wanted his tongue probing my mouth, and as Ken kissed me again, I moaned soulfully. His hands cupped on either side of my head and guided my mouth. Our tongues, now unblocked by the fabric of my veil, started a passionate dance together, his circling mine as I offered it to him and mine sucking on his when he probed my mouth.

I broke our sensual kiss and said, "I want this rock-hard cock in my mouth again."

Ken continued to hold my head as I lowered myself back to his loins. As I neared his flaring mushroom cock head, I spat on it, covering the tip with my saliva.

"Suck it," Ken demanded.

With my lips barely parted, I took him inside again, the moisture I'd just coated his cock head with forced down over the flaring corona and onto his throbbing shaft. I reached up and, with one soft hand, spread my spit evenly over his shaft.

I closed my lips around the shaft and slowly took more inside my warm, wet mouth. My tongue massaged the bulge of his urethra, and the head slid along the roof of my mouth.

He moaned when I wedged his cock into the back of my mouth. I wanted his rock-hard cock deeper, but as I pressed, my body lurched as I gagged on his cock.

I lifted and let his cock slip from my mouth. Ken smiled, knowing that the bend of his rock-hard erection caused me to gag.

"Stand up," Ken said.

I was somewhat surprised at his request but followed his instructions and got off my knees.

He moved forward and touched my thighs just above the hem of my stockings. I stood perfectly still, letting him touch me where he pleased.

His hands slid up to my hips, and then he grasped the thin straps of my thong, sliding the lacy garment off my hips and legs. As I stepped out of the thong, Ken's hands traveled up again, stopping at my tits.

He gently squeezed them through the cups of my bra. I reached behind and undid the clasp for him, and his fingers flicked the straps off my shoulders, the cups fell from my tits.

His hands were free to squeeze and massage my soft tits, and I leaned toward him as he explored every part.

"I love how you touch me," I remarked as he rolled both nipples between his fingers.

Ken stood up from the chair and pulled me firmly against his body. His hard cock pressed against my loins, and my tits crushed against his chest. His mouth captured mine, and once again, we shared a long, sensual kiss.

His hands moved up into my hair, and I waited for the comb holding my veil to be pulled out. To my surprise, Ken lifted the veil above us and draped it over our heads as our passionate kiss continued.

I moved one hand between our bodies and found his hard cock sliding my hand up and down the pulsing shaft. Ken broke our kiss and leaned back enough so the veil slipped off his head and cascaded between us.

He smiled and said, "Fuck me with these big beautiful tits."

I instantly knew that the sensation of having my delicate hand stroking his cock through the veil excited him and that he now wanted that same sensation as I engulfed his cock between my tits.

I smiled as I dropped to my knees. His throbbing cock was poised at my chest, and as I moved forward, I looked up to make sure his eyes were fixed on my tits.

The veil touched his cock first, followed instantly by the soft flesh of my cleavage. I pressed my tits together and slowly started humping him with my chest.

He started thrusting with his hips as I kept my tits firmly pressed together; each time, his cock head, covered by the see-through material, popped out of my cleavage.

I looked up at him through the sexy fabric and said, "I want you inside me; I want this big beautiful cock deep in my hot cunt."

Ken reached to my head again, pulling the comb from my hair this time. I released my tits, and with one fell swoop, the veil was gone to be tossed aside, having served its intended purpose.

As I stood before him, Ken reached down and gathered me in his strong arms, picking me up off the floor. Like a newly married couple, my groom carried me across the threshold of pleasure, gently placing my body on the soft comforter covering his bed.

He stood at the edge, looking down at me as I bent my knees, hooked my heels into the fabric, and spread my loins open for him.

"You are so beautiful," Ken said as he studied me.

I smiled and replied with two words, "Fuck me."

As he climbed onto the bed, I moved my hands to my pussy, spreading the lips so he could see every moist warm part.

He held his rock-hard throbbing cock in one hand as he leaned forward, poised to enter my aching cunt.

His cock head touched me, and he instantly released his grip on the shaft as the head slipped inside. I moved my hands up to my tits and offered them to him, lifting the soft orbs high on my chest.

His hand moved to either side of my shoulders as he slowly speared my moist warm cunt.

By the time his ball sack was against my ass, his mouth was attached to one erect nipple.

My cunt grasped at his hard cock as he slowly moved his hips back and forth fucking me at a pace that made my loins tingle.

"I love being fucked this way," I whispered.

His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, licking around the areola and nibbling on the sensitive nub at the center. I had one hand on his head and slipped the other between our loins to circle my clit as he continued his slow, methodical pace. Each time his balls pressed against my ass, his cock head massaged my G-spot, causing me to moan over and over again.

"It's so fucking good," Ken said.

He lifted his head from my chest and straightened up enough so he could hook his arms behind my knees, then leaned forward, bringing my legs up, raising my loins further, and pressing my legs against my body.

His pace quickened, and my body reacted; spears of pleasure began racing up my spine and crashing into my brain as I started to feel the sensation of an oncoming orgasm.

"Oh, God, yes fuck me like that," I urged him.

With every thrust of his hips, his cock head slid over my Gu-spot and then slammed into my cervix, spreading the awesome numbness throughout my loins.

"You're gonna make me cum!" I exclaimed as he started fucking me rapid-fire.

I clung to him like a rag doll as his rock-hard throbbing cock pounded into me. The flow of moisture inside my cunt increased, and our fucking took on a splashing sound.

My body tingled from the tip of my toes to the top of my head as I began a rapid climb to the pinnacle of orgasmic pleasure.

Beads of sweat were now dripping from his chin and nose, splashing onto my equally sweaty body.

"Oh, God, yes, make me cum!" I exclaimed as his pounding cock drove me to the very edge of climax.

My body went numb, and I surrendered to the inevitable: a mind-blowing colossal orgasm that hit me like a ton of bricks. My body convulsed repeatedly. My cunt flooded and started quivering around his piston-like cock. As my climax peaked, Ken growled harshly and ground his cock deep inside my quivering cunt. In an instant, his cock exploded, filling me with his thick, rich cum. My swollen flesh grasped at his surging cock as together we rode a tidal wave of pleasure.

His face was beet red and covered with sweat. I could feel his seed beginning to escape my tight cunt and knew that the bedding would have a huge wet spot when we finished.

Ken was first to speak, one word describing what we had just shared, "Incredible."

As we basked in the glow of an astonishing mutual climax, Ken released my legs, which instantly fell limp to the bed, unable to move as the lactic acid inside my muscles paralyzed my loins and lower extremities.

He collapsed on top of me, his chest coated with moisture crushing against my equally wet tits and belly.

His cock, while not as rock hard as just before he came, remained engulfed in my flooded cunt. I would let him go completely soft before I gave up on the sensation of having him inside me.

I lifted one hand to his scalp and slowly ran my nails through his wet hair.

I often tell my clients that they just gave me the best orgasm I've ever had, but when I said. "That was the best I've ever experienced." I actually meant it.

His cock continued to shrink, and eventually, it slipped from my swollen cunt. Ken rolled off, reclining on his back beside me. His cock had pulled a thick strand of our sex from inside, which now streaked across my thigh.

I turned onto my side and propped my head up, on one hand, reaching for him with the other. As I slowly scratched my nails across his chest, I said. "I love being your bride."