<!--ADULTSONLY-->
The following
story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.
It contains
frank and sexually explicit material.
If you do
not want to read of such things, or if
it is
against the laws of the area you are in, then
please do
not read it.
CONFESSIONS
Chapter Seven
Synopsis
– As we near its
conclusion, the story of loose-legged Irene is related by a tiny observer.
Chapter Seven
Visiting Val
Fred Puhl’s Story Part 1
I suspect that the loyal
readers of this erotic epistle are expecting more breast-beating contrition
from the principals. It appears however
that these apologies are not going to be forthcoming (or forthcumming either)
so I will take it on my humble self to let you know what transpired subsequent
to Irene’s total capitulation to her fleshy desires and Joe’s dominating dong.
First however I should tell
you something about me. My name is Fred
Puhl, This is the name my family has chosen after scientists gave us the long
and unpronounceable name, Pulicidae. I won’t go into extensive detail but we have
been given a very bad reputation by our cousins, the Ceratophyllus fasciatus.
They were the main transmitter of the bubonic plague, centuries ago, and just
as Germans have been maligned because the acts of the few Nazis that ran their
country, we Puhl’s (or Pulicidae) have been branded as villains by our
distant relatives. You may wonder about
whom I am talking but you likely know me
as a flea (part of the scurrilous assault on our breed).
Our race (if I may call it
such) has not been especially distinguished if we ignore our major effect on
the world through the spreading of the bubonic plague. (This may not have been a complete negative,
however, since it set back the overpopulation problem by a couple of centuries
and we are likely better able to cope with overpopulation today).
Now, after apologies etc.
that match those of the principals of this tale, I must add a note of
self-promotion. I have a famous
ancestor. Unfortunately I don’t know his
name but I do know that he produced his masterpiece about 150 years ago. That could be a generational millennium for
some members of my species but in my case, due to weather conditions, physical
locations and (I like to believe) genetics, it was less than two handfuls. When I refer to my esteemed ancestor as Gramps
you should realize that in fact he was likely only my Great x 4 Grandfather.
Enough of history. In Gramps’ day it was normal and natural for
members of my family to reside on humans.
They were a reliable source of nutrition (mainly blood) and they usually
provided more creature comforts (protection from rain and cold etc.) than cats,
dogs and other potential hosts. But all
that has changed.
I spent the early part of my
life living on a dog, Caesar. It wasn’t
too bad since he was a farm dog and I didn’t have to contend with regular
grooming, baths and those killer powders and such that I’ve heard are common
with the higher class city dogs.
I might have passed my life
in that manner but for a stroke of fate.
A young woman appeared one day and I deduced from the conversation I
overheard while she was petting my canine host that she was a family member. In the evening it became apparent that the
man who remained in the house after my dog’s owners went out was the woman’s
brother.
Caesar accompanied the woman
to the bathroom where she immersed herself in water and covered her body with a
slippery, foamy cleaning substance.
Fortunately she didn’t try to do the same to my host.
Now my knowledge of humans is
limited mainly to what I’ve learned from Gramps’ story as it has been passed
down within the family for many generations.
It was obvious to my eyes therefore that this young woman was comely and
pleasing to view. She looked warm and
tender and I must admit that my mouth watered at the thought of living and
feasting on her. And the feature that
finally persuaded me to leave the comfort and safety of Caesar’s short-haired
pelt was the veritable forest of curly hair that covered the woman’s genital
area and extended upwards to her lower belly.
For me it was an easy jump
from Caesar’s back to the toilet seat and the further leap from there to the
woman’s firm, prominent ass was not difficult for a skilled jumper such as
I. Comfort I knew I could look forward
to but I never dreamed in my wildest imaginings that I would see things that
rivaled Gramps’ voyeuristic escapades.
We went from the bathroom to a
nearby bedroom where the man I believed to be the woman’s brother was lying in
bed. It became obvious that I’d been
mistaken in one of my beliefs. I’d
thought that with humans, brothers and sisters did not copulate with one
another. I leaped from the warm comfort
of Irene’s pubic forest and, from the headboard of the bed, I watched as the
naked young woman mounted astride her brother’s equally naked body. He expressed reservations about what she
(they) were doing but he was definitely an easy rape who writhed and wriggled
under his sister while she fucked him passionately.
The next day I went away,
safely ensconced in Irene’s (for that was the name that the man had cried out
hotly as he discharged his sperm incestuously into the dark depths of the
woman’s body) warm, curly pubic forest.
She had a roommate, another female, and there was a cat also. Three of my cousins lived on the cat but they
said that life there was quiet.
The next day I met another
man named Joe and before the day ended I had learned something more than what
was in Gramps’ tale. I had been dozing
in the safe confines of Irene’s groin while she sat and typed when I heard a
harsh voice demand that she go someplace.
I crawled through the forest up to her lower belly because her clothing
prevented me from jumping anywhere. From
there I was able to peek out under the waistband of her skirt and I watched as
she walked up a flight of stairs and entered a small room.
The man I’d just met was
there and I heard him say in a rather unpleasant voice, “Get on your knees
Irene. I’m going to fuck that sexy mouth
of yours,”
I wasn’t sure what was about
to happen and, although I wasn’t afraid for my own safety, I decided that this
might be a good time to escape the confines of Irene’s clothes. By then she was quite close to the man who
was leaning back against a large desk so I jumped. I underestimated the distance and ended up on
the carpet. It was a real nuisance. I had trouble finding a good base from which
I could jump to the top of the desk, my original target, and I had to make
little hops around until I found a suitable location. It was a hard, flat place that the man’s chair
rolled on so I jumped first up onto the seat of the chair and then to the
desktop.
By the time I got back to the
front of the desk where Irene was the whole scene had changed. She was on her knees but I still couldn’t see
well so I leaped up onto the man’s shoulder and from there I had an eagle’s eye
view. Irene was looking up and the
expression in her big, brown eyes was one of adoration mixed with abject
humility. In her hands she held a long,
hard cudgel that dwarfed her brother’s cock that she had so easily engulfed
with her hairy twat.
I watched, totally fascinated
as her mouth opened and she let the broad, purple knob slip between her
lips. Joe had his hands in her hair (the
hair on her head that is) and he hauled her closer, the thick shaft partially
disappearing into her thick-lipped maw.
“Glunngh….too deep,” she gagged as she tried
to pull away. ”Deeper, bitch. You’re going
to take it all the way,” the man said demandingly and he pulled her head closer
again.
For a moment I felt sympathy
for the woman who was so kindly (if unknowingly) providing me with living space
for her eyes showed great alarm and she was uttering breathless, gagging
sounds. But then, all of a sudden, the
complete length of the man’s cock disappeared into Irene’s lip-stretched mouth
and he groaned in blissful pleasure.
“Damn Irene…you’re a great
cocksucker,” Joe said in a lust-choked voice.
Roughly he held her head close and I could see that she was struggling
to breathe, the gagging sounds once again coming from her cock-stuffed
throat. “Your brother taught you well…or
someone…you must have sucked a lot of cocks to be as good as this,” he said and
her eyes seemed somehow to be denying his lewd assertion.
“Yeaah baby…that feels good,”
the man said again but his voice was gentler now and as if responding to her
assailant’s compliment, she began to move of her own volition. I wanted a closer look so I jumped down from
my perch atop Joe’s shoulder to his flat belly where his pubic hair changed to
ordinary body hair.
From that vantage point I
could see and hear the crucial action.
Irene and her boss had found a rhythm; pulling back until only a couple
of inches of the man’s noble pole was between her lips at which point she could
gasp for air and then diving slowly forward as she took the complete weapon
into her throat. Joe was holding her
head, moving her and I could see that her soft, fat lips were working on him,
even when he had her face mashed hard against his hairy pubis. (To observe this I’d had to jump down to the
crease where his leg joined his torso but it gave me as perfect a view as
achievable under the circumstances).
Close to them as I was, the sounds were quite loud and I could hear the
sloshing and liquid sounds that resulted from the man’s pumping into the
woman’s wetly sucking mouth.
I wondered if my esteemed
ancestor had ever seen a cocksucker as skilled as Irene. Would that I had his ability with words to
describe what I was seeing. Then I heard
Joe utter a deep groan and he hauled Irene’s face hard against his groin. For a moment she had the same look in her
eyes she’d had when he’d first forced her to deepthroat him but then I saw her
hand come up to cup his heavy, hairy balls and her expression changed once more
to one of submissive adoration. I could
see her lips working frantically until the man’s hips gave a little jerk
forward as if trying to get balls and all into her suctioning mouth.
Her eyes widened and I heard
a wet, muffled choking sound and knew that the man was having an orgasm. For a brief moment Irene tried to pull away
but I heard a wet, swallowing sound and then her flushed cheeks hollowed, her
lips worked on the gristly pole and the sounds of swallowing almost echoed as
Joe slowly fucked her siphoning mouth.
And, after her brief attempt to pull away, my lovely hostess looked up
at her boss in slavish submission to his use of her oral cavity while viscous
strings of unswallowed gism dripped from her chin.
On Wednesday I got another
close-up look at Joe’s ponderous prick when he lifted my hostess up onto his
desk and cultivated her hairy furrow with his steel-hard plow. It fascinated me that such obviously
important parts of the male human body could differ in size as much as the two
penises I had seen. And I was similarly
amazed that the female receptacle for the man’s love tool could expand
sufficiently to accept a mammoth intruder such as Joe’s with no apparent
discomfort.
On Friday I noted with
interest that Irene was taking a small suitcase to work and I wondered if we
were going to visit the farm again. I
kind of missed my old home in Caesar’s pelt even though I’d never willingly
change back from the luxuriant bushy home that Irene provided for me. Then, at the end of the day I was surprised
when she got into Joe’s car. It was soon
apparent from their conversation that we were going to her boss’s home and that
she would be staying there for two days. I assumed (erroneously) that she was
going to be there to take care of his children.
Covered by my hostess’s tight
fitting jeans I didn’t see much until late evening when she changed to a robe
and the three of them, Joe, his wife Val and Irene relaxed in front of the
fireplace and sipped cognac. It was then
that I got my first look at Val and she was definitely a contrast with Irene.
Whereas Irene had small
breasts with large nipples, long, firm, muscular legs and a firm ass, Val had
large, soft breasts, a round belly, chubby legs and a very large, soft ass. Or at least that’s how it seemed through her
nearly sheer robe. When she occasionally
let her legs separate I could see through her flimsy panties that she would not
make a good home for me because she seemed to have very little hair between her
legs. Of course appearances are often
deceiving and, as I later found out, the near absence of hair was due to
shaving, something she did regularly in order to play her role as babysitter or
cheerleader or timid schoolgirl, whichever was Joe’s desire at the time. If I’d had to make a choice between Val and
Irene as a home it is likely that I’d have chosen Irene because of the comfort
and shelter I got from her curly, pubic forest.
Nonetheless there would have been the temptation to attach myself to
‘one who is goodly in flesh’ as Gramps put it and Val was certainly goodly in
flesh.
Irene (and I) slept in the
living room on a pull-out sofa bed. It
probably wasn’t very comfortable for my hostess but the fact that she didn’t
sleep much or at least didn’t get to sleep soon after we went to bed was not due
to the discomfort of the bed.
We had barely settled down
for the night when the noise began. For
a minute or two the noise was the screechy sound of metal against metal plus a
dull, rhythmic thump, thump, thump. It
really wasn’t that loud but it as clear to me that it was making Irene very
agitated. And then the cries began. Not pain exactly but stressed moans and
gasps. Those sounds I could relate to
for I’d heard my lovely hostess make similar sounds when her boss was fucking
her on the desk. And the whole picture
was visible to me. Joe was fucking Val
and she was a very vocal fuckee. I knew
all the words because of Gramps’ literary masterpiece but it was still
different to hear them being spoken by a real woman. And Val certainly seemed to know more words
than Irene did and to use them more feelingly.
My home was moving as if
there was an earthquake as Irene’s hips rose and fell in a solo mimic of
copulation. I had to duck quickly out of
the way when her fingers invaded my hairy abode although they didn’t tarry
there but rather dipped into the receptacle where her brother and Joe had
inserted their male organs. I soon had
to move farther away however when the other hand became involved also as Irene
rubbed and probed and massaged the sizeable, hairy softness of her genital
region. The quakes and shudders that
came and went seemed to indicate that her fingers were giving her some of the
same results as her boss’s hard, cunt-invading organ had on Wednesday but it
was obvious that his pussy-pleaser was for the moment in use by his wife. Finally the sounds subsided and Irene was
able to rest.
On Saturday Joe arose early
and I saw that he had a suitcase. Val
remained in bed as did Irene (and of course, me.) “I’ll be back late Monday,” Joe whispered to
my hostess as, with an eye cocked on his bedroom door, he bent over and placed
a wet, tongue-thrusting kiss on Irene’s compliant mouth.
“You’re a bastard,” Irene
said half-seriously. “I bet you
intentionally fucked her that long…and that loudly last night…just to make me
horny. And you can’t do me until
Tuesday.”
Joe chucked in obvious
self-satisfaction and left.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Confessions
Chapter Eight
Synopsis
–.Fred Puhl
describes how Val comes to terms with Joe’s adulterous relationship with Irene
and we are told where this leads.
Chapter Eight
Conclusion
Fred Puhl’s Story Part 2
Irene was a much nicer home
than Caesar. She smelled better and I
didn’t have to always ready to jump away from marauding toenails or a sandpaper
rough tongue but there were some disadvantages.
Caesar lived a dog’s life which means that he did little other than eat
and sleep. I was never kept awake all
night because he was listening to a couple of horny dogs getting it on and was
himself very horny. Not like that night
at Joe and Val’s place when Irene sighed so much that she’d have awakened my
long-dead grandpa if he lived on this continent. And Caesar wouldn’t have spent the next day
glaring balefully at some dog that’d been screwing his bitch but I could tell
that my hostess was seriously jealous of Joe’s wife.
The end result was that, by
nightfall, I was exhausted and much in need of sleep. But Irene, who must have been as sleepy as I,
seemed in no hurry to go to bed. She sat
on the sofa with Val while they sipped wine and each told the other her life
story. At least that was how it sounded
to me. I couldn’t help but notice that,
as the evening progressed, the two women seemed to sit closer and closer
together, so much so that I began hopping back and forth from Irene’s
firm-fleshed, well-forested pelvis to the other woman’s soft, almost hairless
pussy. I certainly hoped that Joe would
not want Irene to shave off her hirsute adornment. That would leave me virtually homeless.
Irene showered before she
went to bed so I was forced to take shelter temporarily on the towel over the
shower curtain but finally we were off to bed and at last I was nestled down in
the warm, somewhat damp confines of my hostess’s curly forest. I managed to go to sleep almost at once
despite the digging and probing of Irene’s fingers as she stroked and caressed
her fleshy softness.
I doubt that I’d been asleep
long before I was conscious of a change in my environment. It was damper, warmer and something was
pressing down on the soft, curly ceiling of my abode. I squirmed out of the nest I’d formed and
found my escape hindered by a body…and not by Irene’s. I did get clear however and I jumped to the
headboard from where I could view a most interesting sight.
Joe’s wife, Val, was sprawled
naked beside Irene who was effectively naked also for her nightgown was bunched
up around her neck. The two of them were
pressed closely together. And then I
picked up on the conversation (if it can be called a conversation).
“Is this OK, Irene?”
“Uh huh…I think so?”
“You’re like my friend when I
was thirteen.”
“Oh! Oh Val!
Oohhhh yeessss! Oohhh yeessss!”
The words didn’t all come
together like they do in writing. At
first Val had her leg between Irene’s leg and that was what had been pressing
down on me. Then Val was going down on
Irene. And then her face was buried in
that soft, furry forest that I called home.
I’d never seen anything like
it. Of course except for Caesar’s sexual
sojourns I’d seen only what Irene had done with Val’s husband and it looked
much more one-sided than this became. It
was less than a minute before the two women were ensconced in the classic
sixty-nine position and I was getting an eyeful of Val’s buxom body and an
earful of their vocalisms.
“Love your fur,” Val moaned
in a muffled way (pardon the pun) as she ate her newfound partner.
“Such big, soft breasts…am I
squeezing too hard,” Irene murmured (also muffled even though Val’s muff was
pretty sparse) as she squirmed under the oral assault of her boss’s wife.
“Yeessss! Squeeze them Irene. I’m going to cum,” and I watched as the buxom
woman ground her hips down over Irene’s face while Irene made wet, grunting
moans.
It was likely only about ten
minutes until the two naked women were lying sated, side by side.
“Was it good for you,
Irene? Better than with your brother?”
”Oh God, Val. I think I must be a
lesbian. It was totally different.”
“You’re not a lesbian,
Irene. I’m not and I loved it. But it’s not the same.”
“You mean? Like?
It can be that good with a man?”
I began to suspect at that point that Irene was stringing Val along. I’d heard what she’d said earlier and I knew
she wasn’t about to admit that she was playing around with Val’s husband but I
was sure also that she was thoroughly heterosexual (or maybe bisexual…but
definitely not homosexual.)
“But? With Bill it wasn’t like that.”
“Oh God, Irene. I don’t want you to go away thinking you’re
lesbian…not that it’s a bad thing if you really are…but I don’t think you
really are. You need to know what it’s
like with a man…not being raped but being… being fucked.”
“But Val…I can’t…I couldn’t
go to a bar and…you know…like some girls do.
And I don’t have a boyfriend?
“I have an idea, Irene. It’s maybe strange but…like…I thought Joe was
doing it to you…cheating…and now I know he wasn’t. But he’s a great lover…you’d enjoy it with
him. If you want to…and if he’ll do
it…maybe next weekend we can have a therapy session.
“Oh Val! I couldn’t?
He’s your husband? And besides,
he probably doesn’t even want to do it with me…not when he has a beautiful
woman like you…a woman with breasts who he can make love to.”
“He wants you, Irene. I can see it in his eyes. You come out next Friday and well find
out. And now, he uses Viagra and Cialis
and he’s like the Energizer Bunny…he just goes and goes. He can do you and me both. And he’s big, too. Like, this big,” and she held her hands apart
indicating a somewhat exaggerated dimension for her husband’s organ.
That seemed to satisfy both
of them and I hopped carefully back into my hairy refuge and got a good night’s
sleep.
Actually I had a good rest that
night and the following night although as soon as the kids were in bed Val
joined Irene in ours. And the rest of
the week, at work, was quiet also except for Wednesday when Joe called Irene to
his office at the end of the day and he got her to go down on her knees and
repeat what I’d observed before. I
wondered if she got as much pleasure from the act as he did.
Friday finally arrived and we
went home with Joe. I wondered how the
scheme the women had cooked up was going to work. Would Joe object to having his wife and his
girlfriend make love? (With some humans
that’s a euphemism for having sex. This is also a euphemism for fucking.)
I was curious and anxious to
get to bed and I could tell that my hostess was anxious also. They had a fancy dinner with lots of wine and
then sat around sipping cognac and just talking. I could tell that Irene wanted more than talk
because my home changed. The fleshy
mountains on which my sheltering forest grew got larger and I had to be careful
where I jumped to because there was a steady flow of oily liquid. (The only
previous times I’d observed this liquid were when she fucked, sucked or lay
with Val.)
When Val and Irene discussed
how to effect their ménage a trois it was decided that Irene would go to bed
downstairs as she usually did (except for the weekend when Joe was away). The makeshift bed was a thick foam pad on the
carpeted floor and I’d heard her tell Val that she liked its firmness Anyway, Val said that she and Joe would come
down and join Irene after a little while.
Irene went to bed without her
nightie but that didn’t bother me because there was enough warmth in her pubic
forest to keep me comfortable. But I
still had to be agile enough to escape her marauding fingers so I didn’t get to
sleep before I heard the thumps of footsteps on the stairs.
I wasn’t sure exactly what
was going to happen or, more precisely, how it was going to happen. I knew, based on what Val had said to Irene,
that Joe was going to fuck Irene and that Val didn’t know it wouldn’t be the
first time he’d baked that big salami of his in the other woman’s oven…or her
other hot orifices, too. How would this
result be achieved? I mad a big jump
from my hostess’s furry pelvis to the sofa beside her makeshift bed and I
didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Isn’t she lovely, Joe?” Val pulled the sheet back as she asked for
her husband’s opinion of my hostess’s naked body that was lying in legspread
readiness for whatever was to come. (Or,
if you’ll excuse my repetitive pun, cum.)
“Irene? Is this OK?
I mean…was Val telling me the truth?”
“Uh…yeah…sort of but? I’m kind of scared, Val…Joe.”
“I’m first anyway, Irene,”
the other woman said huskily as she dropped to her knees between Irene’s ankles
and bent forward. “He’s going to fuck me
while I eat you,” and her head dipped down into Irene’s luxuriant bush.
Slowly, Val lowered her face towards the
black-thatched gateway, and drawing out her tongue, ran it along the full
length of the swollen pink aperture that bulged out from its hairy surrounds as
a consequence I’m sure of my hostess’s arousal. In spite of that she seemed to
draw back from the sensation, but the other woman continued to touch Irene’s
sensitive flesh with her tongue, tentatively licking and swiping with the long,
supple instrument. Her fingers were pressing against the soft flesh of the
secretary’s smooth thighs, and she began to grow more familiar with the other
woman's juicily flooding cunt, sweeping her tongue in long, caressing strokes
along its velvety folds, dipping and probing and drawing out the ambrosia of
blossoming femininity. I hopped down to get a closer look and saw her lips enclose
the turgid, glistening button of Irene’s clitoris, fastening it between her
teeth, and titillating it with her tongue, making my hostess squirm and moan with
ecstatic pleasure. Val’s tongue searched and explored the secret creases and
indentations of Irene’s pussy and then she uttered a loud grunt and her head
jammed tighter between the other woman’s legs.
I was almost trapped by Val’s
hard forehead but I managed to jump away and then I hopped back up onto the
sofa. Joe was kneeling behind his wife
and his huge organ was buried inside her.
I had to change position again to verify that he was fucking his wife’s
cunt, not her asshole. I knew from
reading Irene’s confessions, that he’d buggered her already so likely he’d been
in his wife’s nether portal also.
Joe leaned over and got his
hands on his wife’s big boobs and, while he slowly fucked her, he tugged and
milked the woman’s delightfully large mammaries. I wondered why, since he was obviously a
‘tit-man’ he bothered with his flat-chested secretary.
“Oh God, Joe…I can wait…I
want to see her when you fuck her,” Val gasped as she raised her head from the
secretary’s heaving pelvis. Then, as if
they’d done this many times before (and maybe they had with other secretaries)
the big-titted woman twisted away to the side and her big husband was suddenly
ensconced between Irene’s widespread legs.
Irene was a good actress for,
when Joe was poised above her as he’d been before and his long, thick organ
stood out threateningly over her quivering belly she cried out, “Oh Sir! Joe!
It’s so big! You’ll kill
me!” Since I knew she’d accommodated her
boss’s penis in all of her sexual orifices her shock and awe was not at all
credible…to me. But to the man’s wife it
was not only credible but her face showed great pleasure at Irene’s response. I guess it’s sort of like the pleasure people
take from the successes of their favorite football team or homerun hitter. But the man didn’t bask in his wife’s
approval and his secretary’s fake fear.
Val had gotten her husband’s
secretary so excited that she lay back, her
mouth wide open, her lust glazed eyes staring into the void. Now Joe
positioned himself between her strong thighs, his face within moments of
touching her thickly curling pubic hair. Irene’s belly rose rapidly up
and down, trembling slightly in anticipation, as Joe’s hands pressed outward against
her belly, the thumbs dropping below into the moist area of her already wet
pussy.
Irene’s head was lolling back
and forth, her normally composed features, contorted in a mask of
ecstasy. Joe was kneeling between her naked legs, as they spread widely
apart on the foam-padded floor, and he was running his lips moistly up and down
her whole hairy pussy area. My hostess writhed beneath his caresses with
mindless passion as her hands clung tightly to his hair, pulling him hungrily
forward toward her soft, wet pussy.
And then he was moving over
her, above her, positioning himself between her long, firm legs and I knew what
was about to come. His big, hard cock
waved back and forth over the hairy nest and he lowered his hips so that the
dripping, bulbous tip grazed against the upright little nub of nerves at the
very top of his secretary’s warm wet cunt.
Irene’s whole body executed a
little jerky motion as she felt this searing contact at her most vulnerable
place. Her long legs flexed upward and she clamped them together around
her boss’s hips and, with a groan of pure lust, she used her strength to pull
him down, to force his mammoth pole into her hotly ready cunt. And then, when he had buried his steel-hard
fuckpole all the way into her, her hips started a slow up-and-down motion to
meet the slow fucking motion that ensued. Tiny groans of pleasure escaped
her parted lips as she began to rock herself up and down in a startling fit of
sexual agony. She looked hotter to me
than I’d seen her before.
I jumped down again to be
sure I missed nothing and, as I landed on Joe’s shoulder I heard Val saying,
“Give it to her, Joe. She needs it…give
it to her good!” And, as if responding
to his wife’s lewd encouragement, Joe began to hammer the writhing woman
beneath him with the short, deep strokes that preceded orgasm. His hand went under her bottom and he
clutched at her, driving even deeper as he grunted and made several more brutal
thrusts. Just as I’d seen him do before
both in her pussy and in her mouth. He
was cumming, I knew, blasting his sperm up into the dark depths of my hostess’s
receptacle.
“Give her more, Joe…make the
bitch know that she’s really being fucked,” I heard Val say in a harsh
voice. I wasn’t sure what was up but she
wasn’t the caring partner for Irene that she’d seemed the previous
weekend. Later I was to come to realize
that Irene’s skilled response to Joe’s fucking made Val realize that Irene was
not the innocent she claimed to be and, like her husband, she wanted to degrade
the sexy secretary.
Joe’s pill was clearly
working for he continued to plough Irene’s sodden furrow long after he’d
blasted his semen into her. A frothy
halo of semen-wetted cunthair surrounded his plunging tool and then, after at
least fifteen minutes, Val grunted, “Put her on top, Joe. Make her ride you…so she can eat me.”
I didn’t know what she meant
but Joe certainly did. How many times
had they done this and with how many other secretaries? Without uncunting Joe rolled and Irene
compliantly allowed herself to be hoisted upright astride his hips.
When Irene’s lush buttocks
came to rest on his thighs and his dick was completely buried in her pussy, she
shuddered and took a deep, ragged breath, closing her eyes as if she was
dreaming. With her eyes still closed, she moved her hips side to side a little,
got her knees situated comfortably on either side of his hips, and exhaled
slowly. She must have forgotten that Val
was watching because the practiced way in which she mounted Val’s husband gave
lie to her claim of virtual innocence.
Irene bit her bottom lip and
groaned in pleasure. After a minute sitting like this, with her boss’s cock
buried in the warmth and wetness of her pussy, she slowly opened her eyes. They
were unfocused for a second or two and she took another deep breath. Then she
looked at him and at his wife lying beside him.
She took another deep breath, closed her eyes and rose on her knees as
she raised herself off his length, his cock glistening with her juices. When
only the tip of his penis was inside her, she began to descend, his girth once
again splitting her open.
Keeping her eyes closed and
breathing deeply through her nose, when her buttocks touched his thighs again
and she had firmly seated herself on his prick, she began rotating her hips in
small circles. She fucked him like this
for a minute or two until, with a whoosh of breath, she impaled herself on hi,
and bit her lip. She then began rocking her hips back and forth, grinding the
base of his cock with her pussy lips as if determined to extract another
ejaculation from her boss’s unnaturally rigid cock.
This demonstration of wanton,
sexual prowess seemed to be too much (or too exciting) for the man’s wife. Val stood up suddenly and planted her feet on
either side of her husband’s shoulders so that my hostess’s face was close to
and at the same level as the buxom blonde’s lightly furred pussy..
“Eat me, bitch!” the standing
woman said harshly and she arched her hips forward while at the same time she
grabbed Irene’s head and pulled it firmly between her open thighs and against
her fat cunt.
I know they’d never
collaborated in this fashion before but it was as if they’d done it many times. Irene drove her face into the steamy mounds
of flesh and I could see her jaws working.
Val was uttering wildly excited, strangled exclamations and her broad
hips writhed as she ground against the other woman’s face.
Irene was wordlessly moaning
now as she bounced atop Joe’s hips, riding his cock and grinding against him at
the bottom of each stroke. It became quite rhythmical with my hostess rising up
and pushing her face into Val’s pussy and then, as Val flexed her knees to
follow Irene down, the cock-impaled secretary pushed her hips down on her
boss’s upthrust tool.