He continued to piston in and out of cunt as the boiling load gushed from bloated head of his cock.
"Oh, God!" she moaned. Shivering, she wrapped her legs around his ass and closed her eyes. They churned and writhed snaking the bed creak and bounce beneath them. A tremor rocked him as he shot the last of his load into her frothing cunt.
What he finally pulled out and rolled over on his back, Christie turned on her side and kissed his cheek.
"That was lovely," she said.
He turned his head and looked at her. "Then let's make it permanently lovely."
She laughed. "Is that a proposal?"
"You know it is."
"Then the answer is no," she said. "At least not yet. And now, let's get out of here before someone finds us like this?"
CHAPTER TWO
The first time Christie saw Frank Ryan, she knew he'd be a troublesome patient. He had two television sets and two telephones in his room. He was a gravel-voiced, muscular man who looked like one of those people who made sure they got whatever they wanted. His eyes, like hot black coals, raked over her body in a way that made her shiver. She had the impression he could see right through her clothes right through her uniform to the bare black bush of her pussy!
The first day she was alone with him, he told her she had a nice ass.
The second day, he asked her if her tits were real.
On the third day, he suddenly flung the sheet aside, pulled up the front of his hospital gown to his bare belly, and gathered his cock and balls in his beefy hand.
"I need action," he said.
Christie turned up an eyebrow and tossed him a look of annoyance. "This isn't a cat house, Mr. Ryan. It's a hospital. You want action for that thing, you wait until you get out of here."