Back in Raylene’s room, Raylene was brushing her hair in the mirror. The movement and her position, leaning slightly forward so she could watch herself in the mirror, raised the hemline of her teeshirt almost to the top of her thighs. The creases where her thighs and buttocks met were just, tantalisingly out of sight.
I felt a moment’s disappointment. She’d probably get through her church visit in triumph, looking amazingly sexy but not flashing her ass. The only difficult bit would be cutting the two lengths of bamboo, and she could probably manage that if she squatted and swivelled, keeping her knees together like a model getting out of a car. Then she’d leave, with the congregation thinking she was a girl who’d cut her self a couple of garden stakes. And that bunch of old guys would scarce forbear to cheer.
She saw me in the mirror and smiled. Then she noticed my cock. Raylene’s robe had various merits, but it wasn’t designed for hiding erections. Just then my cock was taking a tent of pink silk with it, pointing straight at Raylene, even though it was Dorabella who’d got me into my current state. “Oh, look at you!”
So without really having decided to, I stepped forward, took the hairbrush from her hand, pushed her head down and pulled her teeshirt up. I buried my cock in her. She was a wet girl. She said, “Oh!” I parted the robe and pulled her tee-shirt up to her shoulders, so there was nothing between her skin and mine. She was still warm from the razor strop.
I touched the side of her thigh with the hairbrush, just to let her know that it was there. “Last chance to fuck you, girl, before you get your ass all cane-striped.” That was inane, but it was what I said.
Raylene didn’t reply. She was experiencing and not thinking. She reached her hands back and held my thighs, keeping me firmly into her while she worked her cunt on me. Her breath was noisy, and fast. I kept as still as I could and let her work for her pleasure. All too quickly she took her hands off my legs and held onto her dresser to steady herself.
I saw she’d closed her eyes tight, and lifted her upper lip into a grimace, as if I were caning her already. Her ass worked furiously fast on my cock. Her breath and the rhythm told me she was about to come. I waited till the last second, then smacked the side of her ass hard with the brush, and thrust just once, as deep and hard into her as I could go, and held there. Raylene made one high-pitched noise, then grunted, low.
Her breath slowed, and she puffed like a racehorse, though she still herself firmly impaled. From downstairs I heard a brief burst of laughter. Not Bellie’s laugh. Lynette must be in the kitchen, probably with Bellie. Raylene heard the laughter too. She said, though amiably enough, “Well, fuck them, too.”
I didn’t bother with the literal meaning of that. I was going to fuck Bellie soon enough. I had no clue about my chances with Lynette. The fact that she seemed to despise me wasn’t indicative one way or the other. Sex doesn’t care. So I said nothing.
I withdrew from Raylene – I’d finish in her after I’d caned her; there was no hurry – and pulled her up straight by her hair. She turned and kissed me. Her eyes were open again. “I have to do this now, don’t I?”