JACKPOT, Part III

Claire continued to work her deep throat magic on Ricky’s swollen cock, making little gargling sounds as she watched him hump his hips hard into her face. He was fucking her beautiful mouth for all he was worth.

She soon felt it– as his load quickened like a pulse under her fingers holding down the jism-chute-junction between the base of Rick’s dick and his rumbling balls; she choked off this flow with her tongue, thumb and forefinger, pushing the palm of her other hand into his pubis. She shook her blonde head back and forth, and fairly choked on his thrashing cock.

Suddenly, she pulled her lips up and off his lovestick with a loud slurp and pop. From her knees she grinned up wickedly at him.

“Not yet,” she murmured. Oh no, not yet baby don’t even think about it!”

Claire stood, then bent right back down again to pick up the pile of money that had fallen to the floor. She made sure a gasping Rick got a zoom shot of her glistening pink pussy as she did this; then she climbed up on his slot machine chair and plunked her fine ass down– her legs spread wide, black leather pumps gripping the armrests like stirrups.

Her forefinger curled and wiggled at Ricky in a beckoning gesture, as with her other hand she held the wad of bills down by her pussy like a Vegas dealer fanning a deck of cards. “Time to come and get it,” Claire said, “or should I say get it,
and come!”

Ricky proceeded to duck down and do the fastest muff-dive move of his life, wet creased tongue probing just inside her pussy lips, then widening and wiggling as he shoved the tongue right in, humming and enthusiastically nodding his head as he went. Claire responded quickly soaking his face with her juice, caressing her own breasts with jewel-glitter fingers.

Ricky raised his midnight blue eyes and made sure they locked on hers, as he took one of the crisp c note corners and flicked, lightly but insistently, at her hot thrumming clit. He shoved the rest of the bill deep into her hole, finger fucking her with the creased, greasy money, until the bill became way too damp, and he pulled it out– only to replace it with another, and yet another.

Now Claire really got into fast motion on the fuck seat, and the pile of money scattered all over, bills sliding and fluttering under her furious hips and Ricky’s lips giving her soaking pussy no rest. He felt her cunt clamp down on his three-finger fuck motion, in and out her box, and back again, in, and out.

Rick pinched Claire’s asshole with his free hand, blew jetstreams of cool air on her swollen clit, and felt her start to cum. She made a sound like a siren in a city starting from far away, and getting closer, closer.

That’s when he stood, and forced Claire by the hair forward on the seat, her face up next to the screen and knees digging into the armrests. He quickly slid himself under her long legs in their dogstyle stance, up and into the seat, so the beautiful arch of her ass slapped insistently at his lap.

Claire gripped the top corners of the video machine, beside herself. She couldn’t clamp her aching cunt down on Rick’s meat in the shiny vinyl seat fast enough.

“OOOOOHHHHHHH!” she cried, as she rode him like a determined brahma bull cowgirl, shrieking at the green glass of the slot machine screen.

Suddenly she reached down, grabbed Ricky’s wrists, and pulled his hands forward onto the Play! buttons’ flat surface. She jerked her head back and shouted at him in mid-climax– “OH….. BOY YOU FEEL ANOTHER JACKPOT ON THE WAY?…. BABY?!?!?”

Her fingers interlocked over his, moving his hands and making him press the buttons that would spin the slot reels. The machine dealt a hand: Four Queens popped up on the screen, right off the bat. The machine shook like it had before, in a frenzy like an overloaded washer-dryer, and made the chorus of arcade bleeping sounds that rang out in Rick’s ears like crashing surf from conch shells.

Ricky couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed a fistful of Claire’s sun-colored hair, leaned forward and roughly grated his red chin stubble on her neck. He groaned–
“Ohhhhhhhh that’s it you fucking sweet slut biiiiiiitch that’s iiiiittttt!!!!”

She answered his cries by clamping her cunt down with a loud smack of her ass on his hips, and Ricky bucked and moaned, releasing a torrent of love sauce in long spurts into Claire’s waiting pussy, both of them coming together at last with a double-back shudder, gasping and groaning in stereo.

Ricky rested his chin on Claire’s slim shoulder, and tried to recover his breath. Claire’s contorted face pressed up against the slot machine screen, and their fingers stayed still interlocked tightly together, squeezing.

Later, in his Allante with the top down taking her out to dinner, he glanced over with a shit-eating, pussy-whipped grin at her lovely profile in the passenger seat.

With a fuck puppet this fine, all the time, he thought, hell…. one might just be moved to give up the gambling, for good.

Stranger things happen, all the time.

“You’re some major stroke of luck, girl,” he told her.

She turned to him with a smile, and raised one eyebrow like Spock the Star Trek Vulcan,

“Bet on it, buster” she said. “You best
bet on it.”

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