Robin Birks reluctantly replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle after talking to her husband, Scott. Beside her, young Steve idly flipped the pages of a magazine he was reading, while Donna was out in the hall nonchalantly primping at her hair before the full-length mirror. It was always this way, Robin decided, after talking to Scott. She waited all week for his call, and then when it came, she was left with a void, a let-down feeling, which would leave her morose and unhappy and strangely frustrated.
She studied the two children by Scott's first wife. There was no mistaking the fact they were not hers. Their characteristics were completely opposite from her own. Both had jet-black hair and dark-brown eyes, taken from both parents and in direct contrast to her own natural blonde hair and pale-blue eyes.
"Where are you off to?" Robin smiled at her stepdaughter, noting how mature the eighteen-year-old looked in the tightly fitted white sweater and matching shorts.
"Just driving around with Derek for an hour," Donna replied, putting the finishing touches to the hair at the side of her face. "I won't be late home, Robin."
Robin smiled at the girl. "Be careful," she grinned, watching the teenager's firm, young ass move rhythmically from side to side as Donna went towards the front door. Their relationship had been far more open than a mother and daughter's could ever be, as far as sex was concerned, and she was pleased she had talked the girl into taking the Pill.
"Now, Robin! You know I'm always careful." She flashed her stepmother a wide smile and disappeared through the door.
Robin Birks sat down beside her stepson on the sofa, running her fingers through his thick crop of black hair. "And what are you going to do, young man?" she asked. Her relationship with the boy had been quite different from that she enjoyed with Donna, the boy having taken to her more as a son desperately in need of a mother. Robin put it down to the wider age difference of sixteen years, together with the fact that the boy had obviously missed his mother.
"Nothing," he said, a little despondently. Then, as if it had been worrying him, he said, "Do you think Daddy will ever come borne?"
She gave a short laugh. "Good heavens, I hope so! Then we'll all be packing and flying all the way across the country. Won't you like that, darling?" She tousled his hair, then squeezed him affectionately against her.
"I wish he'd hurry."
A dull ache had settled in her chest, matching an itching in her cunt. The itch had been there for a couple of days, and she put it down to an erotic novel she had been reading each night in bed, and which had done nothing to relieve her hunger for a thick, meaty cock. To make matters worse, Bill Allingham had been called out of town unexpectedly. Otherwise, she could have called on him and Joan for at least one three-way sexing which would have satisfied her for at least another week.
"He's looking at places today and tomorrow," she assured the boy. At the same time she wondered briefly if Scott had already enjoyed a piece of tail. The thought of a strange woman fondling his prick brought a surprising shiver of jealousy coursing through her heart. She had always gotten a kick out of Joan Allingham playing with his cock.
"It's time for your shower," she said, smiling and putting her face on his shoulder, their cheeks just touching. "Then you can watch T.V. and maybe I'll make some popcorn."
The boy's face lighted up. "Okay," he said, leaping to his feet and starting for the bedroom. "We haven't had popcorn for ages."
Robin smiled at the boy's enthusiasm, and followed him down the hall. "I'll get you a bath towel," she said through the crack of his bedroom door.
"Okay!"
It wasn't until she had found a fresh, clean bath towel in the linen closet downstairs near the laundry room that she realized Steve had already forgotten about the towel and was already standing beneath the cascading spray of the shower.
Upstairs, she waited for several minutes outside the bathroom door, the dull ache in her crotch changing to a soothing warmth as she realized she would probably get a glimpse of the boy as he stood naked behind the glass doors of the bathtub. She knocked lightly on the door, knowing he would never hear. Then very slowly, she opened the door and stepped silently into the steamy moist heat of the bathroom.
A quiver ran through her cunt, and startling streaks of ecstasy burst wildly in her tits as her eyes flew to the glass doors behind which she could see clearly the image of his completely naked young body as he vigorously lathered his shoulders and chest. She leaned back against the vanity which was opposite the glass doors, her eyes hungrily taking in his slender, agile body. He had finished lathering and was moving forward into the spray, his head flung back, his curved back and young, firm ass beautifully rounded into a silhouette that made her groan with dismay.
Robin Birks was about to call out and tell the boy the towel was there, but as she opened her mouth, Steve suddenly stepped back. He seemed to adjust himself there for several seconds, and it was some time before Robin realized he was flow standing in such a position that the fierce spray was striking his cock and balls. A moment later, as her free hand swept up to her mouth and she gasped, she found herself watching, fascinated, as the boy proceeded to fondle and play with his prick.
In a matter of seconds, the boy's slender prick had risen majestically into a soldier-like prong. He used his left hand to squeeze and caress the little pebble-like nuts below, his right hand deftly priming the three or four inches of hard shaft into a straining, reaching little cock.
Robin fought back an urge choke excitement. There was no way she could drag her wide, excited eyes away from the boy's masturbation. She found herself hoping the boy wouldn't come, although the way he was going about it, together with the constant driving force of the titillating spray, would be more than even a full-grown man could stand. Then, with a start, she realized she had to do something to stop the boy, and at the same time make sure she herself could share in his enjoyment.
She pulled herself together, cleared her throat and tapped at the glass where he would see the image of her hand. "Steve!"
The boy's hand flew to his chest immediately, rubbing it all over.
"Have you washed your hair yet?"
"N-N-No…" he stammered. "I'm just starting."
He was bending over to reach for the bottle of shampoo, his boyish figure bringing a hot flash of lust to her already aching cunt. When he straightened up, she gave a sigh of relief. The little prick was still boldly upthrust, jerking a little as Steve began to apply the soap to his thick black hair. Her tits were tingling like crazy, just like they did when Scott and she got together with the Allinghams and Bill Allingham would ask her to join him for a dance. They always danced when they visited each other's homes, it being almost a ritual during which both wives were invariably bare-titted by the end of the first dance. From then on, they would stay topless so that either husband could admire and fondle whichever tit he wanted, for the rest of the evening.
To Steve Birks, the sudden presence of his stepmother was disconcerting. By accident, she had caught him naked before, usually when he was getting hurriedly dressed for school in the morning. But this was quite different, and he was scared she had seen him playing with his cock. He rinsed out the soap and lathered again, his mind whirling as he tried to convince himself his stepmother had seen nothing. Then, to his dismay, he found his cock was still hard, upthrust and obviously very excited.
Robin Birks was beside herself with excitement by the time Steve had rinsed off his hair for the second time. Unbeknown to anyone except herself and Scott, the glass doors on the tub could be seen through only from the outside. From the inside, the glass appeared mottled and bubbly so that nothing in the bathroom was clearly visible while one stood under the shower. These trick glass doors had provided Robin and Scott with many moments of sexual eroticism when they had studiously studied unsuspecting house guests taking a shower and who were completely unaware of their hosts' presence. Robin now wondered why she hadn't done this before when Steve showered, her eyes still focused on the straining little cock of the boy as he squeezed the last of the water from his hair.
"I'll dry your hair."
A startled shiver ran down Steve's quivering back. Relief followed as one glass door slid open to reveal his attractive young stepmother standing and holding up a bath towel which he gratefully grabbed, covering the front of his body.
"I have a smaller towel for your hair." She waited until he had stepped out of the tub before proceeding to dry his head of thick black hair.
She was rubbing very vigorously so that he was shaking to and fro, his stiff prick slamming against his belly, and showing no signs of diminishing. Just then he was aware that his face was but a couple of inches from her beautiful bouncing tits which were brazenly outlined in the front of her blouse. Her tits had always fascinated him, and now he realized he could just see the trace of the darker shadow at the vee of the blouse, the quivering ripeness of each tit barely discernible in the curved arcs on either side.
Robin Birks was studying the reflection of the boy in the mirror over the sink. He was holding the towel tenaciously over his front, but the slender back and beautiful round ass of the boy were delightfully bare. "There," she said finally, knowing it was the moment of truth, and not yet aware of a plan to make it all happen. "I think it's as dry as I can make it." She stepped back and smiled at him, trying to give him confidence. Then she brought her face forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. "You're getting more like your dad every day. Tall, dark and very, very handsome." The boy's eyes kept fleeting between her face and her tits, and she wished she had left the top button of her blouse unfastened. She always wore a shallow, flimsy bra which bunched up her perfectly round tits yet gave them a good deal of freedom. Downtown on the main street, few men could resist at least one, furtive stare. "Here, let me help you get dry," she said softly, dropping the wet towel and taking the top of the one he was still holding. "Then we can make our popcorn."
"No… no, please."
She smiled affectionately at him. "Oh, come on, you're a big boy now." A wave of excitement swept through her as he released his hold and sighed. "Hold out your arms, that's it," she cried, the warmth in her cunt now bursting into flame.
Steve Birks stifled a groan, his head swimming as an ache in his crotch burst suddenly free. He held his breath as the towel caressed his shoulders and arms, the movement causing the lower half of the towel to gently touch and stroke his pulsing cock. Instead of relaxing, it was harder than ever, reaching and straining like never before. Robin's tits, too, were moving up and down, the perfect domes rising and falling inside the nylon of the blouse. A moment later and he was shaking uncontrollably as Robin dropped to his knees, her hands on the towel and wiping around his waist. He tried to avert his eyes from her bobbing, globelike tits. Then he gave a despairing cry, flinging back his head to stare at the ceiling as if hoping that by doing so, he would somehow find himself elsewhere.
"Good heavens!" Her hands were on his hips, but the towel had looped between her hands to reveal the hard, upthrust little cock with its cluster of tiny balls suspended underneath. "What a darling! And so excited!" Her eyes were wide as she took in the boy's cock and balls which seemed to be even more erotic than she had imagined they would be.
"Please… please… Robin."
"Oh, darling! I never dreamt you were becoming so big."
"No, please… you mustn't…" He flung his hands in front of him, trying to cover his straining prick.
But she dropped the towel, having lost interest in drying him, her hands catching his wrists and holding them away. "You were exercising him, weren't you?" she asked softly, not wanting to make it sound like an accusation.
"What?" he asked weakly, staring down at the pretty face which was so obviously fascinated with his steaming cock.
"You were rubbing him in the shower, weren't you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He groaned in frightened despair. She had caught him after all, and a wave of guilt swept over him. Crimson started around the top of his young chest and spread quickly upwards and into his face. "You… you… please don't… I mean, please don't tell Dad."
She smiled up at him affectionately. "Not if you don't want me to."
"Promise?" He was frantic now that the whole thing was out in the open.
"Of course. It'll be our secret. I promise." She couldn't resist any longer, and she took the chance and released her hold on his wrists. A split second later and her fingers were closing around the thin cylinder of prick, the warmth and pulsing moistness of his cock startling her. "Oh my, isn't he nice?"
To Steve Birks, her fingers were like heaven around his cock. He shivered ecstatically, the soothing ache in his cock and balls indescribable. "Aaaagh…" he moaned, unable to believe the excitement coursing through every vein in his body. Then her other hand released his other wrist and a moment later her fingers were gathering in his boiling balls, clenching them firmly and tugging them now and again. "Aaaagh!" he grunted. "Golly…"
"Yes, he has to be exercised," she murmured. "You must always let me exercise him." She rubbed the warm, steaming little cock as the boy shuddered again and again.
His eyes were wild, like a stallion's when it has caught a mare and is ready to mount. Frantically he tried to half turn so that his hands could grasp at the edge of the vanity surrounding the sink. Then he braced himself, gasping for air and thrusting his pelvis forward as Robin settled to fondle and caress his blazing dick. "Aaaagh… no… please!" He hoped she wouldn't take his cries as broken pleas to stop. Never in his wildest dreams had anything felt so good, the way her fingers pulled on his pebble-like balls while her other fingers stroked back and forth along his pulsing, throbbing cock, almost driving him insane.
"Any little girls done this to you?" she asked, her voice far away and a veiled mist covering her eyes as they focused on his cock.
"N-N-No."
"They will." She gathered the tight skin and closed her fist around the cylinder-like prick, clenching and moving it downward to the base to hold it there while the little pink dome pulsed and quivered in ecstasy. "That feels good, doesn't it?"
"Great." He was out of breath, and he wasn't doing a thing.
She clutched the tiny balls which were showing signs of swelling, pushing them back, a sigh breaking through her lips as the boy obligingly widened his thighs to give her more room. "That's it," she whispered, a little globule of cum bunting suddenly from the little eye at the end of the straining cock.
He jerked uncontrollably at the pressure of her hand, another droplet of cum edging out of the tiny hole. He was breathing heavily and, try as he might, he couldn't keep his eyes away from her tits, which seemed even larger as they pressed themselves against the thin material of her blouse. Her thighs, too, now that her skirt was riding high as she crouched below him, seemed strangely erotic and filled him with lust.
"You made him beautifully hard for me, didn't you, Steve?"
He hadn't, of course, but the suggestion made him shiver. He wished she would rub his cock again instead of just forcing it to reach and strain. He tried to pull back for some relief, but her hold on his balls would give him no leeway. "Ooooh…" he groaned.
"Yes, he's very excited." Her eyes were but a few inches from the churning young cock. "Would you like me to kiss him?" The pointed projectile-like head of the boyish prick was inviting and exciting. She ran her tongue around her full, sensuous lips, knowing the urge was irresistible, but not wanting to turn the boy off. "Would you?" she asked dreamily.
"Mnnnn…" He wasn't sure what a kiss on his boiling cock would achieve. He was almost coming and he wondered if she knew.
She took his murmur as approval and opened her mouth wide. So wide that when she moved forward, the cock was right in before she realized it. Then she closed her lips, the silky strands of thin crotch hair around the base of the little cock tickling her lips momentarily. But then her tongue raised itself hungrily to cradle the throbbing prong, hesitating for a moment as the boy shook almost completely out of control. A moment later and the tongue was washing over the pulsing cone-like head, licking around the ridge which was barely distinguishable from the remainder of the little shaft, and she fought to contain the boy who was thrusting and jerking in a series of sudden convulsions.
His knuckles where he held onto the edge of the vanity were bone white. Never had he experienced such fantastic joy. Not even his wildest fantasies had ever given him such exquisite bliss and he tried to hold on, but knowing the mounting tension in his balls was ready to explode. "No… please… Robin…"
She withdrew her mouth from the slippery shaft, stared up into the frantic face of the boy as her fingers replaced her mouth on the shimmering, throbbing prick. "You must always let me do this for you, darling," she whispered, clutching the balls more firmly so that the wet, hot cock seemed to reach all the more. "I'll make him strong and powerful just like your dad's." She opened her mouth and placed it lovingly over the writhing, jerking cock.
Almost at once, Steve's hips went into a convulsive series of wild jerks. He had no idea what his father's cock looked like. It was probably six inches at least and twice as thick. Then he had a vision in which he saw Robin doing this to his father's cock, and he could no longer contain the boiling jism which was simmering in his balls. He tried to cry out, and his hands flew to her head, his fingers grappling wildly in her hair as he tried to warn her. But then his hips began a rhythmic churning back and forth. He cried out once, the cry fading in his throat as the taut little muscles in his cock finally gave up. Then he just hung on, trembling and shuddering under the onslaught of his orgasm.
To Robin Birks, her stepson's final release was the only approval she needed from the boy. For one fantastic minute the slim column of cock had extended itself fully into her hot wet mouth. She was still fascinated with the fact that she had so much room left in the cavern of her mouth. So much, in fact, that her tongue could do anything to the intruding, quivering prick. But then it was hardening even more, stretching itself hopefully under the continuous fluttering of her excited tongue. Five seconds more, as she fondled the hard little nuts more thoroughly and her free hand moved around and over the boy's jerking butt to hold him in place, and the reaching prick spurted the first thin jet of fuck juice. It struck the back of her throat with dart-like effectiveness. That was when she lovingly but persistently licked and sucked until Steve's balls were finally dry.
The following night, in L.A., Scott Birks was paying off the cabbie and appraising Pauline Harper's home at the same time. She had shown him two homes after lunch, and then he had retired to his hotel room to change and clean up, accepting her invitation to drop out for the evening and join her for dinner. Now, as his eyes took in the fabulous home set in its own grounds and far enough away from nosey neighbors, he wondered for the first time just what sort of income Pauline Harper must have to even maintain such a place.
She opened the door before he had a chance to rich mane of chestnut hair, wreathed in a big, fresh smile.
"I see you made it," she grinned, her eyes taking in the muscular chest made more prominent by the finely knit sports shirt. "Welcome to my home."
"Jesus!" His eyes traveled over the expensively furnished front room and hallways before dropping to admire her as she stood smiling alongside him.
"I gather you like it?" She was wearing a full-length hostess gown of bright yellow, which failed to hide her fully ripened tits.
He slipped one arm around her waist without thinking, as they walked through several rooms. "What sort of money buys a place like this?"
She flipped her head back and brushed at the shoulder-length hair with her fingers. "Not that much really. It belonged to a Hollywood starlet who went berserk after appearing in one movie. She made two grade-B movies and ppfft! It was all over and she was bankrupt. My husband grabbed this as soon as it came on the market. A friend of ours bought the two Cadillacs she had purchased, and that was the end of Tanya Toiler."
They were walking through patio doors towards a huge kidney-shaped pool surrounded by white sandstone blocks on which deck chairs, chaise lounges and umbrella tables were casually arranged.
"I thought you might like a swim before dinner," she said, turning her head to smile up into his face.
"I haven't anything to wear."
Her face broke into a wide grin. "We don't really need anything. No one can see."
A jolting streak of lust swept into his balls. All the time he had been getting ready at the hotel, he had tried to convince himself Pauline Harper was merely a real-estate agent hoping to make a sale, and all her obvious charms were merely selling aids to help her make that sale. He squeezed her waist delighted when she responded by turning to face him and put her hands on his chest.
"I was only kidding," she grinned. "Barry, my son, is just leaving and I want you to meet him. He'll have swim trunks you can wear, if you really want to swim."
"I'd love to. The hotel has a pool but I've been far too busy to try it."
"Let me pour you a drink and we can relax."
They drank bourbon on the rocks. It was still very hot even though the sun was fading fast, so that the scorching liquor did nothing to cool his bursting ardor. He thought of Robin and wondered if she felt the same way. Then Pauline's teenage son ambled through the patio doors, his thick mop of reddish hair and green eyes leaving no doubt as to his relationship with Pauline Harper.
"Barry, this is Mr. Birks."
Scott started to get to his feet.
"Don't get up, Mr. Birks." He shook the older man's hand. "I'm just leaving and I wanted to meet you after what Mom was telling me."
Pauline Harper had been staring admiringly at her son. At seventeen he was already a very handsome youth. It was something she worried about with the boy having no father at the most critical age. Yet they both had a very open relationship when it came to sex and worldly things.
"Before you go, Barry, I wonder if you could find some swim trunks for Mr. Birks so that we could have a swim."
"Sure, Mom. I'm sure I can find something."
As he turned to go, Pauline said, "Those knit ones you had last summer would do," a little shiver streaking around her cunt as she tried to imagine Scott Birks in the tight, binding little shorts.
Barry Harper hesitated but a moment, a little smile curling the corners of his mouth very briefly. "Yeah," he murmured thoughtfully, "sure, Mom. The knitted ones."
Later, after Barry had swept out of the driveway in his foreign sports car, Scott Birks walked self-consciously through the patio doors.
Pauline was already sitting up and finishing the last of her drink. "Well," she said, gazing admiringly at Scott's clearly defined cock which was upthrust and brazenly outlined in the thin material of the tight shorts. "Those look perfect. How do they feel?" It was all she could do not to burst out laughing as he tried to stretch the stubborn shorts a little higher.
"I can hardly breathe," he grinned, looking down and examining them himself. He'd had a partial hard-on ever since he had walked into her office that morning. Now the tight unyielding shorts seemed to caress his aching cock and make it that much bigger. He gave up trying to hide it, a little color creeping into his cheeks as he realized she was still admiring his tool, and then he reached for his drink and gulped the last of it. "Want another, before we have that swim?" he asked.
"Sure," she grinned. "Maybe it'll cool me off." She watched the hard, masculine ass and strong thighs as he strode towards the patio door. For the first time she had the feeling this was a man who could fuck her if he wanted. He was fantastically well-hung, and if he wasn't too hung up on that wife back home in New York, she sure could use that eight inches of dick he was flaunting at her.
Half an hour later, she struggled to her feet from out of the chaise lounge. Scott was still finishing his drink and wasn't paying attention. But then she was unzipping the yellow robe and casting it aside. A moment later and he almost choked as she stood, smiling down at him, wearing the briefest bikini he had ever seen; it barely covered the magnificent melon-like tits and the triangular beauty of her perfect crotch.
"Like it?" she asked.
"Jesus! It's breathtaking."
She held out her hand and hauled him to his feet. "I thought you might like it, seeing as how you are far away from home." They held hands, their eyes traveling over each other's straining bodies. There was nothing like a skimpy little bikini to make a healthy male warm up, she decided. Then her eyes were back at the swollen column of his cock beautifully poised behind the clinging fabric of the knitted shorts. "Last one in is a stinker!" she cried, unable to believe the excruciating streaks of sheer ecstasy which were racing through her tits.
They swam the length of the pool and back, Pauline clutching the safety rail with one hand and wiping her face with the other. "Marvelous," she said, grinning as he came along side her. His eyes immediately settled on the dome-like tits which bulged dangerously over the two-inch strip of the halter.
She squared her shoulders, purposely, the veiled lust in his eyes bringing a surging new warmth to her itching cunt. It was a foregone conclusion he was about to touch her, and she wondered how she should react to another woman's husband, even if he was far away from home and obviously very horny. Then his free hand was on her bare waist and his fingers were digging into her trembling flesh as he swung around in front of her. A moment later and his mouth was crushing hers, his broad, powerful chest squashing her tingling boobs so that they seemed about to burst. Then for the first time, the enormous upthrust cock was pressing itself hungrily into her belly, snugly sinking into the billowy softness as her cunt burst into flame.
"That was very nice," she said softly when they finally came apart. "You must be missing your wife." She had to mention his wife and give him the one chance to reconsider. She didn't know why she should. She just had to.
"Jesus! I just have to have you." His hand had moved up from her waist and was cradling one fabulous tit.
"How long has it been?" She was moving her crotch in a slow, teasing motion against the upthrust cock.
"Two weeks." His balls were almost exploding and he couldn't be sure he hadn't already come.
"I've been waiting two years."
"You're kidding." He couldn't believe this beautiful body had been deprived of cock for two years in L.A. "I thought L.A. was a swinging place."
She gave up resisting and moved her hand down between their squirming bodies, her fingers closing in around the throbbing shaft, feeling it through the woolly material of the shorts and driving herself insane. "I suppose it is, but I'm in business here. I'm not a little housewife no one knows. I have to be careful." She gave a little laugh. It was nervousness brought on by the impending knowledge she was about to get fucked. "Discreet is the word." The feel of the thick cock as she clasped it, intensified the yearning in her cunt. She turned her face and he kissed her again. It was a tender kiss, their lips opening partially and working slowly in hot, wet harmony. When she finally twisted away, she said, "Can you fuck discreetly?"
He made a choking noise in his throat as her hand moved over the top of the knitted shorts, her fingers edging teasingly down the inside until she could grasp his thick cock. He had to help her pry them over his hips, the shorts clinging stubbornly to his thighs and then his knees. Finally he kicked them off, looking up in time to see the thin halter strap disappear. A few seconds later and she was holding up the two-inch strip of nylon which had covered her cunt. Then she put her arms around his neck, her mouth crushing his as the magnificent big prick slid deliberately up to the very top of her clutching cunt.
"God!" she groaned, twisting her mouth away from his but still clinging tightly to his neck. "God, but that feels heavenly."
He held it in, fully extended. It was pulsing and throbbing in the glorious soft warmth. She worked her cunt muscles along the length of the steaming rod, making him shudder as his loins burst into flame. Then he grabbed the rail with both hands, kissing her briefly on the mouth before his face had fallen and was sinking itself into the billowing softness of one exquisite tit. Only then did his hips begin that frantic churning against hers, his excited cock sliding up and down the grasping tightness of her cunt. Faster and faster was the humping, his wildly gyrating body sending wavelets rolling the length of the pool.
She hung from his neck, panting and gasping, the feeling in her cunt unbelievable after all this time without cock. "Holy Mary!" she groaned, her hips now moving in time to his thrusts. Briefly she wished they had waited and fucked upstairs on her own big bed. Then she realized this was probably only the first screw for tonight. Later, after dinner, they would fuck all the more. "Yes… God, yes…" She tightened her arms but stayed far enough away for him to continue sucking on her tit. Then the unbelievable urgency in her twat made her hump along his cock even faster, the big shaft thickening noticeably and widening out her hole. "Yes… Jeez! Please… Scott… oh, God!"
Her cries only spurred him on. He switched to the other swollen tit, their size still astounding him as his tongue worked over the fully blossomed nipple. Then he was sucking on it, his hips beating a tattoo against hers as his powerful balls began to eject hot fuck juice. "Jesus, sweet Jesus…" he groaned, thrusting now like a well-oiled machine and driving the fuck juice to the tip of his boiling cock. "Yes! Oh, God." She had opened her legs and was curling them around his flailing legs. A few seconds later and he had thrust his prick in to the hilt, reaching and straining into her cunt as his pock belched forth a mountain of cum. He recoiled quickly and thrust in again, another gob of boiling cum taking her by surprise as it struck her cervix. He gave a series of jabbing thrusts, emptying his cock as he released his hold on the rail, both of them sinking slowly into the depths of the pool.