Special Ingredient

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

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Copyright ©2003 by Reed Manning First published in Penthouse Forum, February 2003 NOTICE: This ebook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This book cannot be legally lent or given to others. This ebook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

One thing about living right on the bay, Traci reflected. Even when she had to work her ass off like today, the cool ocean breeze luffed through the windows of the inn and kept the sweat off, and her mood sweet. Helping out at her grandparents’ bed-and-breakfast was in many ways a dream come true after her college summer jobs. No asshole bosses. No ugly cubicle work stations. And Traci had the satisfaction of knowing she was helping to keep the family enterprise running smoothly. She brought down the linen from Room Six and added it to the hamper in the laundry room. Before she could head back upstairs, an aroma from the kitchen made her pause, close her eyes, and inhale down to her knees. “Oh, how wonderful.” She followed the scent to find her grandmother lifting cookies off the cooling racks and secreting them away in the teddy bear cookie jar that usually sat atop the freezer in the pantry. Traci had always thought that jar was an empty spare. “Can I have one?” Traci begged. Her grandmother jumped, as if caught-in-the-act at something illicit. She pointed to a different batch of cookies cooling on paper towels on the counter. “Have one of those.” Traci did. “Mmmmm.” Chocolate chip, hot from the oven. Grandma made the best. As Traci poured herself a cup of coffee to wash it down with, the old woman put the teddy bear jar back in its spot. “Is there something different about those?” Traci asked. 3

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

Grandma's eyes twinkled in a way that made her seem much younger than her age. “Oh, yes,” she confessed. “They're my special recipe. A serving at bedtime helps get Grandpa and me in the mood.” “In the mood for what?” “Never mind, dear. I'll tell you about that when you're a married lady.” “Oh, Grandma. It's not like I—” Grandma raised a finger warningly. “I don't need to know, dear.” Traci laughed and dropped the subject. A minute later the elderly innkeeper announced she was off to get more groceries. “We're full up this evening. Need more fresh greens for the salads.” “Full up again?” Traci attempted not to make it sound like whining. However, the inn had been full for four weekends in a row and the other maid was still out with a sprained wrist. “I'm afraid so, dear. The regatta, you know. Ask Marc to help you with the vacuuming if you get behind.” Her shoulders slumped. “Yes, ma'am.” Her grandmother left. Traci lingered to finish her cup of coffee. Her curiosity was churning. “In the mood,” eh? What sort of special ingredient packed enough punch to put a spark in the sex life of a couple of old folks? Granted, her grandparents had always been healthy and active, but really, it must take a lot to get them going. Traci found herself noting that tonight was to be her first Friday night off in 4

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

weeks. If she were going succeed in staying awake long enough to get laid, she might need a little boost to her libido. Temptation made her fetch the jar. She hid her theft by substituting from the regular batch. The special recipe tasted the same as the other. She rolled the bites around on her tongue to be sure, but still couldn't detect any magic ingredient. But damn, they were good cookies. Before she knew it, she had polished off three. It was about an hour later, while changing the sheets in Room Eight, that she realized how much she wished she were naked, rolling around on the bed instead of tidying it up. She straightened, head swirling. Whoa. This was radical. Belatedly she realized just how twitchy she was down below. It wasn't just perspiration from the hard work. She lifted her skirt and reached into her panties. “Ohhhh!” The exclamation burst from her. Her fingers explored drenched, rubbery folds of flesh, already engorged and as sensitive as if her twat had been licked for an hour. She slid her two center fingers inside. They went in as if greased. This called for action. No way could she keep her mind on her job if she had to traipse around with a pussy as needy as this. The sound of Marc starting up the vacuum cleaner in the next room inspired her solution. Marc looked up in surprise as she burst in, closed the door, and yanked the power cord from the wall outlet. “What's up?” he asked. “I need dick. I need it now,” she explained. 5

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

Marc's eyebrows shot upward. The vacuum cleaner handle fell from his grip. Traci supposed he had a right to be surprised. Though he was one of her regular fuck buddies, she had always placed the B&B off-limits, making it clear he was not to attempt to cultivate her favors on the job where her grandmother might walk in on them. Here she was violating her own rule. “You're kidding, right?” “Does this look like I'm kidding?” She dropped to her knees in front of him and tugged down his zipper. Ah. At least his cock wasn't doubting its good fortune. It was already stiff, and as Traci licked from base to tip along the underside, it swelled until her tongue was undulating over the ridges of bulging veins. “Jesus!” Marc gasped. “What did I do to deserve this?” His tone implied whatever it was, he needed to know so he could keep doing it. Traci's mouth was too busy to answer. She shoved him in deep. The sensation of his bulb nudging the back of her throat, almost but not quite setting off her gag reflex, fueled her horniness still further. Her thighs began to tremble. If she hadn't already been on her knees, she would have had trouble standing. She engulfed him as if trying to consume him, desperate to have every inch of him. “When did you learn to deep-throat?” Marc's whisper evolved into a moan. His obvious enjoyment sent a tingle roaming from her clit to her perineum. She touched herself. Velvety juice poured from her cunt onto her fingers. 6

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

Meanwhile she kept her lips sliding up and down the length of his prick, slurping down her saliva and his oozings. “Oh, oh, OH!” he blurted. Suddenly her mouth filled with semen. Oh, shit! Not yet! she wanted to yell, but had she tried, she would have choked. Instead she did the polite-lover thing and rode out his orgasm, slurping and sucking until the last squirt had poured onto her tongue and his hips had bucked one last time. “Oh, Christ, that was good!” Marc murmured. He stroked her cheek, his expression radiant. She pulled her mouth away, gulped down his wad, and now that she was finally able to talk, shouted, “Dammit! I wanted you to fuck me!” Marc's face fell. “Oh. Jeez, I'm sorry, Traci.” She sighed. “I guess I didn't realize how well I was milking you.” “It was irresistible.” “Obviously.” She gave his deflated wang a chastising shake. “Now what are we going to do? I still need to be taken care of.” “How about tonight?” “No. Can't wait that long.” “Wow. What's gotten into you?” She didn't answer. The reason would sound too silly. “I could lick you,” he offered. “Or just give me twenty minutes until I can get it up again.” “No. Head won't be enough. A half-hard dick won't be enough. What I need is a thorough porking by a nice, hard one. I need you fully recovered.” 7

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

“An hour, then.” That would do it. He'd proved himself in the past. “All right,” Traci replied. “But you'd better be ready.” **** They went back to their duties. Or at least, Traci tried to do so. But the gushiness of her cunt drove her nuts. The taste of cum in her mouth only reminded her how pent-up she was. She barely made it to the forty minute mark, then she had to duck into a restroom and polish her button with frantic, clockwise strokes. She came in five seconds. Her fingers kept spinning, rolling her clit and upper labia side to side and round and round until the flesh grew so hot it felt like it was melting. She came again. This time she tried to stoke it to the max with deep breaths. No good. She'd only made her craving worse. Both orgasms had made her ache for the monumental sort she only experienced when she could let go at the last moment and let a hard-on slam into her and carry her over the top. She moaned. “Traci, everything okay in there?” Her grandmother's voice came from just on the other side of the door. “J-just fine, Grandma,” she called back. Hurriedly she rearranged her underwear and smoothed out her disarrayed hair. **** By the time she emerged, she had fanned her face enough to banish most of the flushed pink color, but she avoided her grandmother as much as possible. Unfortunately, the old lady seemed to be everywhere. It was a full two hours before Traci 8

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

managed to sneak Marc into a guest room. By then she was having to walk with her knees locked together or the brushing of her own thighs against each other stimulated her so much she got hiccups. She sprawled on her back on the floor and spread her legs. No way was she delaying long enough to take off any clothes. She just shoved the crotch of her panties to the side and held her cunt open. Marc chuckled at her enthusiasm. She glared. He got the message and hurried to unzip and pull out his boner. He clambered between her knees. She didn't even wait for him to aim; she just grabbed him by the hips and shoved him inside. The heavenly sensation of his hard, blunt member pushing the walls of her cunt to either side took away every bit of the maddening tension she'd suffered. Who would have ever thought plain old missionary position could feel so good? She went limp on the floor and let him pound away, knowing the smile on her face must look ridiculously goofy but not caring. “That's good,” she said, and he obliged her by pounding her steadily. Pussy juice trailed down his balls until each time his scrotum slapped her perineum, it made a splat. She giggled at the wickedness of it and got ready to take advantage of the tingles that were starting to coalesce up at clit level. “Marc? Are you up there? There's a clogged sink in Room Two,” shouted Grandma from the base of the stairs. “Oh, God. Not now,” Traci moaned. “What should we do?” Marc asked. 9

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

“We've gotta stop. If you don't turn up in ten seconds she'll come up here looking for you.” It crushed Traci to have to say it, but she knew it was the truth. Marc pulled out, closed up his pants, and took off. As he opened the door to leave, Traci could hear her grandmother's footsteps on the stairs. They had stopped just in time. As she lay there cursing to herself, Traci caught a glimpse of herself in the room's full-length mirror. Her cunt was still wide open and begging to be filled, her labia bright pink from the recent teasing, her perineum glistening. How could the universe allow a pussy like this to go untended? She sighed and tugged her panties back into place, unable to imagine how she could wait. **** Somehow, she survived until Marc could return from a trip to the hardware store to get a new fitting for the problem sink. She snagged him on his way into the building and pulled him by the front of his shirt into the toolshed on the far side of the flower garden. “Grandma never comes out here,” she explained. And her grandpa wouldn't be back for hours. This was it. She was going to get fucked. No more interruptions. “Get those pants off.” Marc obliged, pulling the cuffs right over his shoes. Meanwhile she whisked off everything below her waist. “Right where you left off,” she demanded. She unrolled a section of old carpet and lay back, legs wide. He got into position. 10

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

She sucked in a sharp breath as his boner slipped in. Folding herself up and placing her ankles on either side of his neck, she received his thrusts to the hilt. No halfway in-andout bullshit for her. She wanted every inch. “You are so hot,” Marc grunted. He was banging away faster and faster, his face purpling. “You can't come yet!” she insisted. He stopped humping. Concentrated. Caught his breath. She clenched him with her cunt, already aching for him to resume, but not daring to encourage a hair-trigger response from him. “That was close,” he admitted. “I'll make you a deal,” she said. “What's that?” “If you can make yourself last until I blast, I'll let you do me in the ass.” He thought about it for a tenth of a second. “Deal.” He unplugged. She spun around, raised her buns high in the air, and settled her upper body on the old carpet. She reached back and kneaded her back hole, greasing it liberally with the pussy juice that had drenched her whole crotch. Along with the slickness coating Marc's cock, lubrication would not be a problem. “Remember,” she warned as his wand nudged her dimpled opening and he prepared to push in. “You can't come until I tell you. You keep fucking me no matter what.” “You got it,” he promised. “Cross my heart.” Then, as if to be sure there would be no more conversational delays, he thrust his hips forward. 11

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

The surge of pleasure that coursed through her just after her sphincters relaxed made her eyes turn up in their sockets. She let him into her rectum with such eagerness it was as if it were not a matter of him plugging, but of her, tugging. This would do it. In her life thus far, she had regarded taking it up the ass as a favor she bestowed rather than an act she indulged in for her own sake, but now she was a convert. The extra tightness, the pull, the way her orifice fit so roundly around his girth, gave her that extra boost of intensity she needed to cope with her hyper-arousal. She wasn't even going to need to touch her clit. Just the banging, the stretching of her anus methodically inward and outward, was making her breath shorten into little puffs and birthing little shivers of ecstasy all though her pelvis. She was going to come so hard her hair might fly out of her scalp. She could tell. But not yet. It felt way too good to rush things. “That's it,” she told Marc. Just keep doing that.” He did. True to his word, he pounded away and didn't shoot off. She could hear him moaning, feel him shudder, could hear in his murmured outcries that it was all he could do to hold off, but somehow he managed it. “Here I come.” She had just enough presence of mind to make the announcement, then she was wracked by shudders. Her ass clenched around Marc's cock, her clit spasmed, her lungs heaved, her thighs turned to jelly, her cunt gushed. All the ways she had ever manifested a climax were rolled into one and played out. 12

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

Somewhere in her delirium, she felt hot gushes filling her rectum, and realized after the fact that some of the moaning and whimpering was that of her companion. She rejoiced in every last twitch of his wang as he let go. Her ass had never felt better used. He pulled out. They collapsed. For a long interval, all they did was lie there limp, regaining their wind. Marc was first to stir. “There,” he declared. He wiped sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, and gave her ass a playful spank. “That oughtta do ya. It sure did me.” He pulled his pants back on, picked up the hardware store bag and went back to his task. He whistled a cheerful tune from the toolshed to the back steps of the inn. Traci rose, dressed, and staggered back to her room for a shower. Now that had been a good fuck. Maybe the best of her life. Therefore as the bar of soap glided over her tits, it came as not a little shock to realize the sense of being sated was fading. By the time she stepped from the tub, she was horny enough that the touch of the towel on her pussy made her tremble. This couldn't be happening. She needed more dick! She needed it every which way and plenty of it. Far more than she'd had so far. God help her. She understood her mistake. Her grandparents, being elderly, obviously needed a lot of the special ingredient. The amount she had consumed was an overdose for someone her age. Shit. It might take days to wear off. 13

Special Ingredient by Reed Manning

What was she going to do? She'd already worn out one lover. It wasn't like she had a harem of studs standing by. Not knowing what else to do, she headed back to work. Almost immediately the sound of male laughter caused her to peek into the common room. There, near the fireplace sampling the inn's complimentary cream sherry, sat four hunks in sailor shorts and tank tops. Of course, she thought. These were some of the visiting yachtsmen here for the regatta. Hmm. She hadn't realized tonight's inn guests would be so young and buffed. Her pussy gave a throb. She knew what she had to do. She hurried into the pantry and took down the teddy bear jar. A minute later she sashayed into the common room, carrying a plate stacked high with ... potential. “Hi, there.” She gave them her most welcoming smile. They returned it four times over. “Want some cookies?”

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