The Exploits of Claire Ch. 03

Carrick lit the end of the joint and dragged air through the hand-wrapped tube causing the embers to burn brightly at the tip. He held in the intoxicating fumes for a couple of seconds before forcing the smoke out as casually as he could through his nostrils. He handed it to Claire. She grasped the spliff between her forefingers delicately, her black fingernails reflecting the moonlight.

Foolishly Claire believed that she could take as deep a drag as Carrick. When the caustic fumes filled her lungs she jolted and coughed cavernously, grasping at her throat, "Oh my god!" she exclaimed at its strength, eyes watering.

Carrick laughed. He'd been smoking weed since he was 14 and had migrated onto skunk when he found milder forms no longer satisfied him.

The room had taken on the musky, dingy smell of strong pot and the pale smoke accentuating the beams of moonlight even more. It washed over Claire as she sat on one of the boxes swinging her legs.

After ten minutes of coughing Claire was beginning to acclimatise to the drug and feel its effect. Her head felt lighter and a dreamy sensation was settling in her stomach. She'd also been smiling in a dazed fug at Carrick for the past five minutes.

"Enjoying it?" he asked.

"Yeah!" she enthused back, "I've never felt like this. It feels oooooooooohhhh!" she waved her arms around trying to express what she couldn't verbally.

Carrick grinned, "Wait until you have sex on this stuff; it's electric!" She smiled back at him ruefully, as she gave the idea some thought.

"Really?" she asked weakly, "...that might be... interesting." Carrick watched her big gazing eyes – were they dilated through lust for him, or because of the skunk? In typical Carrick-fashion, he reason that it must be for him.

After 30 minutes they had smoked two spliffs and Claire's head was spinning through the hazy atmosphere; it felt as if each particle of smoke was lightly caressing her skin as it landed. A relaxed placidity washed over her in creamy white heavenly waves and she barely noticed as Carrick stood and walked over to her. Within a second or two he'd lifted her chin and they were kissing deeply. His tongue pushed into the warmth of her mouth, the spongy organ engangling with her own. It was as if each knobbly undulation of his tongue was a velvety mountain of serenity and she felt it all.

Soon his hand was caressing her left breast through the fabric of her top. Her nipple became puckered and she was weightless in space. He fumbled and massaged delicately for a while as they kissed before he reached up to her collar and grasped it with two clenched hands. Claire's breasts still tingled in static remembrance of his touch. Using all his might he suddenly tore the flimsy fabric straight down the front exposing her satin pink bra with its single red love heart in the centre.

She just sat there on the box and laughed swaying gently from side to side as her black dress hung jaggedly open. Carrick slipped it off her shoulders and it sunk like a defeated animal. Then he reached around the back of her and snapped the clasps of her strapless bra so she couldn't put it back on. He tossed it on the floor behind some boxes. She giggled even more, resting her chin over his shoulder as he searched the bare flesh of her back.

"I've been dreaming about having sex with you since I met you" she whispered leaning back, her 34c breasts jiggling. Carrick smiled and took a breast in each hand, kneading them and pinching the thick nipples between his thumb and forefingers. They quickly grew and jutted from her chest as she groaned into his mouth, once again receiving a probing divine kiss.

Carrick, exhibiting less pronounced intoxication than Claire, kissed her ravenously as her black lipstick smeared. Claire could barely even mouth her kisses properly, her consciousness now suspended somewhere behind several frosty panes of glass.

She broke the kiss, her slightly reddened eyes leering at him, "Are you going to fuck me now?" Carrick's chest heaved with anticipation. He simply nodded.

Claire sat up and shifted herself back on the box leaning against the old tattered wallpaper. She opened her legs as Carrick's hands accepted the invitation to explore her nylon clad thighs.

Before he could get anywhere she began to turn her hips, "Let me take my tights off," she whispered hoarsely. But Carrick had other ideas; he reached and grabbed her by her shapely hips planting her back on the big cardboard box. His hands slipped around to her front and down to her crotch. Meaty fingers grappled at the fabric for a second tickling her pussy before his fingernails snagged and he tore a big obnoxious hole.

A growing damp patch at the gusset of her pink knickers displayed how aroused she was. They, however, were next to be culled by barbarian Carrick. He reached up her dress and grabbed the waist of her thin cotton undergarment. This time the fabric put up more resistance. His tree trunk arms tensed and veins bulged to Claire's delight. With a grunt the fabric gave way and tore down the joining seam at her hip. Then he moved to the other side and did the same, before tearing the garment up from beneath her.

"I'm not going to have anything to wear!" she exclaimed as he dropped her clothing on the floor. Claire didn't really care though as she shifted her backside along the dusty box towards Carrick who'd hastily stripped his own vest off in the meantime and was now in the midst of unbuckling his belt.

Claire wowed, running her small delicate hand over his huge toned pecks as he slipped his pants and boxer shorts down to reveal his pointing erection. She exclaimed under her breath again and rubbed the member against her knee causing a string of glistening pre-cum to streak across the black nylon fabric. His penis seemed to harden even more at the touch.

With his pants around his ankles, he picked Claire up beneath her armpits and gently lowered her onto his penis. She opened her boot-clad legs wider and stretched them out awaiting the pressure of his engorged purple head at the entrance to her vagina. It glanced against her clitoris a couple of times before she impatiently reached underneath and guided it into her sodden hole herself. Extending her arms around his neck she thrust toward him causing her pussy to envelope half of his girth in one go. She screeched in pleasure and pain.

Claire bobbed up and down a couple of more times feeling her pussy lips widen further and further, as her inner walls stretched. Two thirds of the way in, dripping. Another thrust, and she sunk down to the hilt with a cry, "Oooohh!" All breath disappeared from her lungs. She scraped her nipples over Carrick's hard chest causing them to harden again. His eyes, meanwhile, were tightly closed as he faced the heavens.

Her pussy felt like silk wrapped tightly around his penis. Slowly, he began to pull it out. As he did so it gleamed in the moonlight, stretching back the flesh of her pussy stickily. Then he pushed into her with equal delicacy. Claire gasped and groaned, "OOOAAaooowww." She giggled at how over the top she was being before groaning even louder when he pushed in further. It was like she wanted to attract people's attention to the fact that someone was being fucked in here.

The pleasure was immense causing her toes to curl in her boots. Gradually Carrick sped up, his penis beginning to plunge into her in long, full sweeps. Claire clung onto him tighter knowing she was in for a bumpy ride.

The dreamy feeling in her stomach had spread to her loins as her pussy throbbed from the growing of friction. She glanced around the room at her sad torn clothes - how was she going to explain this to her boyfriend? It only made her more voracious.

She started bucking against him, each time he plunged deep her clit would grind against his lower abdomen as their pubic hair meshed together. "Oooooaaaawww, uh, uh, uh," this time she wasn't exaggerating her strained groans. The noises were becoming wild with abandon echoing around the old room with nowhere to go.

Carrick stepped forward looking to lean her on something. He tried pinning her against a box but it kept moving, such were the force of his thrusts. So, he waddled around with her in his arms finally resting against the big wooden door. Her eyes had glazed over with animal lust, all thoughts of her boyfriend buried somewhere in her head. Carrick caught his breath before kissing her hard and beginning to pump her again. The door rattled on its hinges against the frame. Claire groaned into his mouth with her eyes closed tiwrling her tongue around his.

Animalism soon overcame Carrick too as he grunted, their bodies meeting with slaps in consumation of illicit love. The door grew louder too as if trying to call somebody's attention, as if the thought of getting caught was a potent aphrodisiac. Claire was barely able to gyrate her crotch against him such was Carrick's force. He pistoned into her relentlessly as she continued to lubricate.

Almost fearfully she withdrew her mouth from his and planted her head on his shoulder, grabbing a clump of his hair with her hand. Her face creased in pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Sharp breaths coaxed more sensation from between her legs. Still he plunged into her, his thrusting backside catching the light as it moved backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, her flesh rippling from the purchase of each jolt.

Carrick too was grunting loudly; this was one of the best workouts he'd had in ages. Still he had strength to draw on, and like a bull he rammed into her harder. The door rattled madly as if it was being subjected to a hurricane.

"Uuuuuh, I'm gonna cum!" Claire exhaled. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, all the skunk, drink and lust mixing together to make her body tingle, the epicentre being her pounded pussy and engorged clitoris.

Her body jerked with reflex bucks to greet Carrick's own. She felt like she was going to black out as she ripped hair from the back of Carrick's head. Her pussy was hot and throbbing under Carrick's incessant rhythm. And still he pounded like a man possessed. The feelings grew, and one by one her nerve endings converted to be receptors of ultimate pleasure.

She was reaching the zennith, the throbbing deepening, nerves never before touched making themselves known in sharp tingles. It was Carrick's machine-like routine, like the pistons of a speeding steam train, that drove her up this mountian of pleasure. Not long. Bumping continued, sticky sweat gluing flesh together. A direct network of nerves between her scraping, sensitive nipples and her pussy had now been established, trafficked by sensuous and divine feelings. Then, like a waterfall intense pleasure, her orgasm crashed through, "OOAAGGH" she yelped, throwing her head back striking the door with a loud thud as she experienced a deep vaginal and clitoral orgasm.

Carrick plunged a few more times more before he too went rigid, holding his hard member as far in her as it could possibly go, before his seed shot out of his cock coating her cervix in thick globules. "Oh, Claire, baaaaaby!" he spat, pinning her limp ragdoll body against the door. He kept coming for 20 seconds shooting as much semen as he could muster with occassional spasmodic thrusts like the aftershocks of a destructive earthquake.

For the next ten minutes they held each other tight and naked, sweat glistening, her breasts plastered against his chest. The groans, grasps and clenches were stained in their minds as the music from downstairs slowly seeped back in.

Carrick found Claire's eyes an inch from his own, as his chest heaved heavily. She looked haggard but well and truly fucked. Her cheeks were rosy red and her face was coated in a light film of sweat. This was not to mention the clump of Carrick's sweaty hair in her hand.

"That was amazing!" she gasped. "I never gave you my mobile number!"

While his girlfriend was receiving the fucking of her life upstairs, James had run out of steam offending people downstairs. He found himself the recliner Carrick had sat in a couple of hours before. Despite the party going on all around him he slowly drifted off to sleep.

He awoke with a start the next morning at half seven when the cockerel in the nearby farm started squawking dementedly. His head felt thick, and he shuddered with a thick hangover. "What the hell did I do last night?" he wondered.

Gingerly he got up, his mouth tasting like he'd consumed an entire cowpat and decided to look for Claire. He began glancing around the wasteland of the house, as if it had been the scene of some great battle. Partiers were asleep on couches, muttering and dribbling to themselves as they slept. A sickness grew in his stomach and he staggered into the hallway only to convulse and vomit down the side of the wall. He quickly felt guilty about the mess on Chloe's carpet, but the feeling was usurped by more sickness.

Stumbling on, he checked some of the adjoining rooms, locating Chloe in bed with some toyboy, her large breasts exposed over the line of the quilt. He quietly shut the door remarking to himself how expansive her areolas and nipples were.

After searching most of the rooms in the three-storey house he discovered Claire. She was led on her side facing away from him on top of the covers of a single bed in a sparsely decorated room. "Claaaiiire" he moaned clutching his head as he stumbled toward her like a zombie. Then more sharply, "Claire!" He shook her by her shoulder and she groaned.

She turned and winced at him, his face unblurring through the sleep.

"We need to go, Claire" he mumbled again as if he'd been lobotomised. She moved to get up but instantly froze at the feeling of cold air on her exposed breast. A chilling shock ran straight down her spine. Her dress was torn in two and her bra was missing!

"Come on!" he begged like a child.

She turned on her back slightly and parted her legs a bit, unsure of how to move next. Her pussy and inner thighs felt sticky. Sticky with another man's cum!

James could see partially up her skirt as she lay there. He noticed clear flesh around her inner thigh, "Hey, you've ripped your..."

"I know!" she interrupted closing her legs tight. "I...I just caught them on something" she stuttered holding incredibly still as if on a bed of nails.

"You go out, I'll be with you in a second... order a taxi!" she was floundering for a way to get James out of the room so she could search for something to replace her torn dress.

James simply pulled his mobile from his pocket and rang for a taxi stood at the end of the bed.

"They'll be here in five minutes," he said wearily as he forced the phone back into his trousers, his own costume now crumpled and unrecognisable.

Claire stared at him from her frightened position on the bed, "Let me go to the toilet then, before the taxi comes..." Without waiting for an answer she jumped up, and clasping her top together, she dashed out of the door and to the toilet. Her heart was beating a mile a minute when she reached it, fully aware that cum had streaked down her legs the instant she arose. James just stood there bleary eyed not aware of much beyond the dizzy sensation in his head.

Claire found her dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick was smeared across her face and her pussy was tingling from all of the excitement and dried cum plastered to it. Dragging reams of toilet paper from the roller, she tried to wipe as much of it from her as possible. As she frantically worked away, the thought kept recurring to her that last night was one of the most passionate of her life. Definitely, the sex was truly the most electric she'd ever experienced. The mere thought of Carrick made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and aroused her again.

She straddled the toilet and wiped her sensitive vagina with the tissue, trying to coax as much semen from it as possible. Nothing much came out to her surprise – maybe it was embedded deeper than she'd like to imagine? No time to stand around on ceremony, she thought.

"Taxi's here," announced James drearily from down the hall.

She took one more look in the mirror, straightening her hair with her flustered hands. Her dress still gaped open as it barely clung to her shoulders.

"I'm going out to the car, I'll tell him to wait for you" he shouted again before leaving the house.

Claire nervously stepped from the toilet, remembering that she must first find her handbag. She vaguely remembered storing it in Chloe's room before running into Carrick. But where was Chloe's room? Clasping the two tattered strips of her dress together, she began peeking in doors along the corridors.

The last door along the 2nd floor corridor yielded her prize. As she stepped in to claim her bag she noticed Chloe and the blond guy she'd invariably rode all night sound asleep. She grabbed her bag from the side and darted back out into the corridor upon hearing the impatient taxi pip.

Then there was the issue of her dress. She could possibly clasp it together all the way home, but it was risky, and James, despite his hangover, might notice. Then a thought came to her: safety pins! She had some in the bottom of her bag with several condoms, which she might still regret not using. Opening the pins she managed to stitch her dress back together. It still looked torn down the centre, but at least you couldn't tell that she wasn't wearing a bra.

More impatient beeps from outside.

Then grabbing her handbag she ran out of the room, her boots clumping heavily on the floor of the corridor as she did so. When she reached the outer door she felt the wind at her pussy and had to run to the car holding her dress down at the front, lest she reveal all her dark, illicit secrets.

The car was making the overtures to leave when she opened the door and slumped in the back seat.

"Finally!" gasped James. "Can you step on it, mate, I need to get back?"

Her rabbit-like heart rate slowed down as the journey commenced in every day fashion. The stickiness between her legs was still present, and made her feel simultaneously nauseous and horny.

She began to inspect herself. Her tights and tops of her boots were covered in streaks of cum; most of it now dry and crumpling. Noticing the prying glances of the moustachioed taxi driver in the rear view mirror, she crossed her legs tightly. Despite this attempt at respectability Claire was aware of one cold, hard fact: she was an absolute cheating slut!

10 minutes later, snoring from James in the front seat announced that she would also probably get away with it too. She guiltlessly smiled at the thought of the eventful night and remembered that now she had Carrick's mobile number!