Blackmailed Into Swapping

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strokes that brought his cock out of her snatch until just the head remained inside her swat. Then,
"Slock!" plunged it back into her. The big balls bounced against her stretched pussy folds.
Slock-slurp; slock-slock.
"It's heaven to fuck!" Mavis squalled with delight, rotating her ass faster and faster and hunching her
tensed buttocks back at him as he slammed his meat tusk to the limit in her greedy cunt.
"You're a good, red-hot piece!" Hank panted, huffing and puffing as he hunched.
"This is a good position," Mavis murmured. "My ass is just the right height for you to pump your prick
into me!"
She felt he really was making her snatch smoke as he fucked her with long, fast pumps. "I'm gonna cum
again!" she wailed, voice shrill. And she felt her entire vaginal cavity was being shattered by the violence
of her orgasm. "Hold it in deep and let meeee cum!" she begged, trying to capture his thick, rapacious
cock with her coital muscles. But Hank fucked her faster, really banging his prick into her cunt.
He was cumming, too. "Aaaaaagggghhhhh!" Mavis gurgled with appreciation as his sex hydrant began
flooding her innards. It was like a liquid fire that was consuming her pussy and her ecstasy knew no
bounds. She thought-hoped-he would never stop hosing his jizz into her. It was sooooo heavenly, having
his cock fairly blowing her snatch full of thick, creamy cum.
She hardly knew when Hank slowly extracted his spent member. The erotic pleasure continued with her
and she remained bent over the bar in the ready position, knowing Hank or anyone else who might enter
the house could see her bare ass and gaping, gored puss. Even an inexperienced kid could tell she had
been thoroughly fucked.
"Where does Phil keep his cigars?" she heard Hank ask and she knew he had backed his prick out of
her.
"In the refrigerator, in one of the vegetable drawers," she finally managed to mumble, still reveling in the
glory of his peckering.
"There's only three," she heard Hank say.
She heard his barefooted approach. "One for you and two for Phil," she heard him chortle. He pushed
her up on tiptoe as he suddenly inserted a ten-inch-long panatella all the way into her throbbing pussy
still in its cellophane wrapper.
For a moment, Mavis was dismayed. Then she started giggling. A cigar in her snatch. She thought her
pussy-fire was still hot enough to burn it to a cinder.
"We better get back," Hank said realistically.
"Yes," Mavis agreed, straightening. She kicked her panties into the utility room and followed him out into
the night. If she got fucked again that night, whoever pumped the prick to her would have to extricate the
cigar first!
Chapter 9
As Mavis followed Hank across the dark back yards, she was assailed by a variety of emotions. She
seemed to be tagging after her illicit lover like a docile servant girl; she couldn't understand how she
could submit to other men without even a show of resistance, then be flooded with remorse after they
had had their way with her body; and as they approached the Quentin home, a sense of reluctance
almost caused her to turn and bolt for her own house-she didn't want to see her husband wrapped in
another woman's arms in the throes of passion.
But she padded on after Henry Carr and followed him into the house and the Quentin den where the
men had played poker. She wondered if Willie could read in her face that Hank had humped her in her
own kitchen, bent over the serving bar. He gave no sign as he wordlessly mixed three drinks and handed
her and Hank a glass.
Mavis glanced about the room and squirmed with dismay when she found the others weren't there. Had
Miriam succeeded in luring Phil away? Already, their naked bodies might be entwined, Phil struggling
between her sleek thighs, shoving his horn into her body, giving Miriam the pleasure that should be hers?
She didn't give a damn if Mickey Lewis were fucking Connie-but the thought of her husband pumping
his wonderful prick into Miriam's hairless pussy almost made her cry.
Mavis attempted to concentrate on Willie and Hank, take her mind from disturbing thoughts. How could
they be so unconcerned, sitting here and sopping up whiskey while their wives were being fucked
elsewhere in the house? Maybe they were. But, to Mavis, it appeared all they were interested in was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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