George had grasped her hips, pulled, helping her impale herself on his rigid meat. The head slipped right into her yawning hole, for a second plugging the entrance, as fat a knob as had ever gone up her cunt. Only a second, then wedging up the curve of her vagina. She seized George's hard buttocks and tugged and oh, there, the fat cock had filled her, snug, stretching her channel just a bit.
"Ugh!" George grunted. "Feels like you're scalding my tool."
She giggled and threw her arms about his shoulders and kissed him wetly, openly, tongued into his mouth as deeply as his prick had penetrated her cunt.
George's hands slipped up her flanks, between them to fist her tits.
His hands had a hardness that compressed her boobies. She could feel every callus; she shivered with delight. And his rocky shoulders thrilled her, and the thrusting tongue now forcing into her mouth, and the cock rooting in her hole. He made her feel soft and cuntish, rather helpless but not put down, for their fuck was a sharing of opposites, and she could still be proud of being Betsy.
The kiss ended. He gazed at her, eyes twinkling. She kissed his chin, then smiled. She squirmed about, wriggling herself on the rigid cock that so filled her hole, and he, the darling, did not start reaming her but remained still, letting his prick be kneaded and cunt-sucked.
He said, "But gosh, if Vera came through that doorway…"
Betsy put her hand over his eyes as he partly turned to look at the kitchen exit.
She said, "If she does we'll invite her to join us. To share your cock."
"You think she would?"
"She'd better. It's time to open up to each other. I mean, George, Vera isn't the only cunt you've fucked since you've been married. Is she?"
"Well, I've strayed a couple of times."
"And she's gotten into pussy more than once. Let's clear up the smokescreens, George, come out of hiding. Let her catch us fucking and you'll both feel better."
George lost track of the argument then as his cock gave a powerful twitch that set Betsy's cunt to fluttering.
"Oo-oo!" she cried. "Oo-oo, George!"
Grunting, he rooted inside her, rotating his hips so his horny rod stirred her bubbling, drooling hole to a frothy, jellied viscosity. For the moment her cunt had no form. It was pure heat. Only the stone-mason's hands squeezing her breasts to hard little oranges kept her from falling, for although his cock stood high in her belly and she seemed to hang on it like a piece of clothing on a wall hook, she felt liquid enough to slip right off.
"Ee-ee!" she hissed, head flopping to his shoulder, arms down his back, hanging limply on him as he reamed her cunt. There was a cum growing like a bubble shaped to his cock.
"You getting it off?" George cried, still fucking her.
Panting, she could not speak.
"Umm-rnm, urn-mm!" she croaked, then felt his loins squeeze her clit, and that she could define, apart from the palpitating bubble roiling about his prick, her clit a sudden wet explosion removing a layer of heat from her body, somehow permitting her to speak, to say, "Fuck – more – hard…"
His hips yanked back and he drove the steaming shaft up like a flash of lightning that scorched her from heels digging at the stool rungs to hands flopping loosely on his back.
"My cum," she bleated. Then, "Ugh-hh, George, ughhh, there…" And her hips were moving, thrusting her at him, slow, straining surges that set an uncontrollable rhythm. He quickly fell in with it, his cock leaving her on each backstroke, slashing up her gushy fuckhole as she shoved to him.
"You got it now?" he cried.
"It's got me, George! Ugh-hh! Oh, ugh-hh, I'm grunting like a pig!"
"You're a beautiful pig, Betsy."
"But – ugh-hh!" The grunts came, long and drawn out, each time she hipped in to meet the cock squishing up her hole. "But – ugh-hh – pig wallowing in fuck – ugh-hh!"
His hands slid away from her breasts, letting them drop, slid down her back and grabbed her asscheeks, yanking her in so close that her clit crushed to his loins.
"Ugh-hh, George! Like that, fuck this piggish cunt! I'm cumming George! Oh my God how I'm cumming!"
The orgasm was a roaring in her belly, her cunt at last taking definite form, a tube squeezing his cock in slithering embrace, racing on it. Clinging to his shoulders now she yanked her legs up, wrapped them around him, dug her heels into rocky buttocks as she levered, banging her wide-open split at him as though to do harm.
"Ugh-hh!" she cried again. "So piggish I'm a sow, a cunt pig fucking oh how I'm fucking…"
As she roared into her cum her cuntal passage firmed even more, became like a tough jelly fluttering on each gliding entry of his cock, tightening all the way until it almost held his meat imprisoned when he struck bottom. It clung all the way as he retreated, then came apart, dissolved to a yawn waiting for his plunging return.
George cried in a whimpering, strained voice, "Betsy, you're the best fuck I've ever had!"
And she, almost hysterical now, cried out, laughing, "I'm not a fuck I'm a cunt!" She was peaking, pitching wildly on the thrusting cock, and she heard herself crying, "I'm a cunt aunt cunt! I'm so full of cock cock cock!"
George, too, was laughing. "Cum, girl!"
"I'm cumming!" she shrieked, going rigid, seeming to climb up his body as she drove her heels into his buttocks and levered upward on the cuntal blast, the delicious releasing scalding surge as her hole blew out drool, wetting his scrotum and her ass.
For some moments she hung up there, then slid downhill, sobbing and laughing, a laughing cum! Wet, sweating all over, cunt gushing, she collapsed and had to summon a fierce outburst of strength to keep from falling, tumbling off the stool to the kitchen floor.
Her mind was a broken swirling of emotion, a vacuous blob as she clung to him and George gave her slow fuck shoves to bring her back into his world.
When she could at last think coherently she choked, "George, did you cum?"
"Couldn't you tell?"
"Nor too wild, all too piggish cuntish selfish – fucking myself right out of my mind. Did you?"
He grinned. "No. I was enjoying too much seeing you go off the edge. And feeling it. Christ, your cunt was sucking my tool like a calf on a cow's teat."
She kissed his ear. "Gosh, calf and pig, such an animal I am. I should be ashamed. Do you want me to feel shamed?"
"Fuck, no!"
She laughed, and hugged him. "Well, when you shoot up my hole I'll probably go crazy again. Don't let me fall off the stool, huh?"
"Your cunt's drooled so much the stool seat is died, so we'll have to be careful."
He was teasing but her ass did indeed feel slippery.
Her legs were tired from clinging to his back. She dropped them, heeled the rungs again while grasping his hips to keep his cock in place during her shift in position. Looking down she saw it slip put only a couple of inches. She reached between them and fingered the broad, dark stem, glistening with her juices. Then she finger-combed the hair of his groin, a giant dark nest of it. And there, her wetted-flat cunt hair no longer concealed her red clit, which pronged out homily.
She slipped her hand down underneath and clutched his scrotum, then giggled with delight as she felt the weight of his swollen balls.
She was trying to stuff them into her cunt along with the length of cock still within her when George gave a despairing groan.
He was looking toward the doorway.
And there stood his wife, Vera, staring bug-eyed at them.