Two Different Roads

The Show Must Go On

When the Beatles decided to stop touring Ellen had been certain she'd never have to go through such a nightmare again. Now it was starting all over. Denver, Memphis, Louisville, Winston-Salem, and Pittsburg, every day a different city, a different STATE. There were endless card games on airplanes, frantic dashes from hotels to concert halls and back, hurried, mediocre room service meals, and the near constant screaming of teenage girls.

"So this is what it was like for you before?" How did you not go insane, and what did you and John do to get through all those hours stuck in the room?"
She couldn't help chuckling. "What do you THINK we did? Oh, we read books, played cards, monopoly (John loved Monopoly), talked, but mostly we just had sex...a LOT."
"Like US then-we've been going at it like a couple of jack rabbits. Not that I'm complaining."

"You SOUND like you're complaining," she teased.
"No way Baby. I NEVER get tired of fucking you. So on that note, why don't you come here and give me some sugar?"
She settled on his lap facing him, her legs curled around his slim hips. He immediately reached up to free her hair from the messy bun she often kept it in when she was working. "I hate it when you put your hair up," he frowned. They kissed. He slid his hands up her back under her blouse to unfastened her bra while hers drifted down to squeeze his tight ass.
"God Michael, that tongue of yours," she sighed as he used it to blaze a trail all down her neck to her now bare breasts.
"Would you like a reminder of what else it can do?"
She moaned at simply the THOUGHT of what he was suggesting. He stood, turned, placed her on her back, immediately began to pull the flower print, hip hugger pants she was wearing down her long legs along with her lacy panties.

"This is a bit unfair," she remarked, bringing attention to the fact that he was still fully clothed.
"Oh...you want me nekkid."
He undressed with exaggerated slowness like some campy version of a strip tease.
"That's its Baby, Give me a show."
"You like what you see?"

"You know I do, especially this." She reached for his already hard cock, but he avoided her.
"I think I promised YOU something first."
"Shit!" She cried out when he abruptly ensconced his head between her legs.

"You like this don't ya Baby."
"I fucking love it," she gasped as he moved from her inner thigh to thoroughly kiss and lick her labia. When he hummed, moaned gently against her she trembled at the delicious vibration.
"Feels so good, Michael. Don't stop."
He often liked to tease her, draw out the pleasure for both of them, and he treated this recent skill he'd acquired no differently. His tongue danced around her clit, and the frustration of having him so close and yet so far from where she needed him was maddening.
"Michael please," she begged.
"Please what?" He asked in a lower tone that made her thrum with desire.
""Make me cum," she pleaded, her fingers curled in his thick hair.
He drew the little bean into his mouth, sucked it while adding those long fingers, and she came apart almost immediately. Her body shuddered, shook with the strength of her orgasm. He was certainly a fast learner. John had been amazing, but she didn't think he'd usually made her cum THAT hard.

"God Michael, where did you learn how to do that?"
"Peter. I asked him for some pointers."
She laughed. "You're such a private person. It blows my mind to think of you talking to him about this. That is dedication. You'll have to thank him for me."
He colored slightly. "I want to be able to do everything that gets you off."
"And I appreciate that. Now come here Cowboy; I want you."
"How do you want me?"
"On top, and I want it hard."
"I aim to please."
He placed her legs over his shoulders, a position that gave him deep penetration and created just the perfect angle for him to hit all the right spots.
Suddenly an unwelcome thought of John intruded upon her mind, an involuntary comparison as it were. He had been a bit more adventurous than Mike. Sex with him had truly been wonderful, but somehow her husband just took it to another level all together. He was so determined, so intensely dedicated to perfection in everything he set out to accomplish that he'd turned his lovemaking into a form of art. He played her body with the same craft he brought to his music. Of course his size undoubtedly helped matters as well. Ellen was practically addicted to her husband's large, thick cock. That feeling of being completely filled-nothing could compare to it.
"God Michael, you're so good!"
"Tell me HOW good Baby."
"You're the best! Nobody could ever fuck me like you can!"
"Right back at ya Darlin. You feel amazing, especially how you just clench around me when you cum. So fucking tight."
Her hands gripped at his back when the first signals of her approaching orgasm hit her.
"Shit, that's what I'm talking about! You squeeze me like a vice. I can't...I'm gonna cum!"

He continued to move until they'd both milked every last drop of pleasure and then they collapsed into each other's arms.
As if on cue, the phone rang.
"I'll get it," she said, rolling her eyes.
"God do you guys do anything besides screwing? You're like crazed bunnies," Bob remarked when he heard how out of breath Ellen was.

"At least you waited until we'd finished this time. So what do you want?"
"You've probably already got plans for more married sex, but if not, everyone is invited to Brenda Lee's masquerade New Year's party tomorrow night after the concert."
"I'll relay the message to my husband."
"So what message did the biggest pain in my ass have for me?"
"We're invited to a celebrity New Year's party."
"I've got all the party I need right here," he asserted, slipping his arms around her middle and nibbling her neck.
She giggled. Could it get any better than this?