It turned out, of course, that Ron's growing gardening business was really a racket by the sharpie to fuck half the housewives in the suburb, and get paid for it besides. By the number of crummy lawns I started noticing on every block, I knew the teen was probably getting rich.
Surprisingly enough, I was able to accept sharing Ron with others. Although, come to think of it, maybe it wasn't so surprising after that incredible afternoon with him and his girlfriend, Ginny Mims. In any case, I started to regard Ron's cock like it was a natural resource. It was like Old Faithful, the legendary geyser at Yellowstone Park, destined to go off no matter what.
After I'd given Ron a taste for fucking at the beginning of the summer, it was a cinch that his hyperactive teenage libido was going to make him want more and more. There was no one person who could give him enough. And rather than have him jacking off to relieve the constant pressure on his balls, it seemed reasonable to let other women in my fix share the milk of his ever-stiff prick in their cunts. It if helped them ease their frustrations at being human dustmops, like I'd been before I met Ron… well, why not?
The only problem was that Ron had become so busy with his stud service that the frequency of his visits started to drop off. I could hardly complain after I'd agreed the unselfish thing to do was share him with the neighbors, but, meanwhile, I was finding myself getting hornier and hornier without his cock inside me whenever I wanted it.
And the hornier I got, the more I wanted it. Five or six times a day I found myself lusting for a cock, my cunt absolutely aching to have a cock inside it. I took to not wearing any panties when I was around the house so I could have easy access to my pussy, playing with it and achieving some kind of temporarily relieving orgasm so I could function for a while without climbing the walls.
Even when Ron was with me I couldn't get enough. My capacity to fuck continuously actually started to outstrip the capacity of his cock and balls, as I begged for more and more until he was drained dry. When he left, my yearning started all over again, almost as though I hadn't fucked at all. My cunt was insatiable, a monster between my legs always demanding its way.
I knew I had to find something to go along with my regular fucks from Ron or I'd go nuts. The house was a mess because I just sat around and thought about fucking and sucking. My mind was constantly filled with wet images of pricks and pussies and assholes and tits, all of them in the most turgid arousal and the hottest action.
One afternoon I grew so desperate that I even contemplated seducing George when he stumbled through the door at 6:00. I tried to make myself believe that his cock was enough to satisfy me in my horny condition, and maybe it would have worked if I could have held myself in and waited for him.
But there was no way I could wait. It was the middle of the afternoon. It would be over three hours before George and his dinky equipment got home. Meanwhile, my pussy was absolutely burning up. If I didn't get it on somehow, soon, I felt like I would have a heart attack.
Masturbating wasn't enough for me now. Playing with myself just cooled things down for a few minutes. If I tried to keep myself in line by masturbating until George finally got home, my cunt would be a useless bloody mess, rubbed raw by the time he finally walked through the door. I'd wind up in the emergency room instead of in bed.
I got up and paced restlessly around the room, my nerves frazzled, puffing on cigarette after cigarette. It didn't take long for it to occur to me that I was right back in the same shape I'd been in when I was bored out of my mind from being a typical housewife, my frustration making me a near wreck.
Determined that I wasn't going back to being a human dustmop, I vowed to think of some way to satisfy the desires that were eating away inside me. Another human being was going to fuck and suck me and make me come today, that was all there was to it. I'd made up my mind.
I'd wasted ten years of my adult life listening to common sense. Then this summer I'd finally achieved happiness by following my impulses instead, balling with teenagers simply because I wanted to. There was no way I was going to go back to sweeping my normal sexual instincts under the carpet.
Tired of the overly familiar scenery in the living room, I fled out of doors like I was busting out of jail. The first thing that greeted my eyes was the yard, so overgrown by now that it looked like we were growing wheat to supplement our income. God, I thought, I was going to have to do something about that lawn.
If I didn't get someone to legitimately cut the lawn, it was only a matter of time before the neighbors started to complain. If only I could find someone I didn't want to fuck to do it for me. Maybe George could cut it.
They had a citizen's committee in this suburb. When people started doing things that supposedly lowered property values – leaving the garage open, overflowing garbage cans, selling property to blacks – the committee made a personal visit to get them to see the light. In other words, they threatened to run them out of the suburb if they didn't play ball and correct whatever area in which the committee deemed they were derelict.
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't understand why our giant rat's nest of a yard hadn't come up before the committee yet. Then I looked across the street to see what the homes over there were like. Immediately I understood why there had been no complaints. At least two of the yards in the block across the street were almost as bad as ours.
Ron!
The Don Juan had swept through the neighborhood so fast that he had single handedly changed the landscaping of an entire suburb. Nobody cared about their own yard, or how anybody else's looked, just so long as they were getting their supply of teenage jizz up their frustrated pussies.
And to think… I'd really started it all.
Just thinking about it made my cunt foam. I pressed my bare thighs together, trying to staunch the flow, my body trembling.
To temporarily clear my sex-engorged mind, I looked out across the street again, especially at the overgrown yard two houses down. God, that Ron was bold, I thought, going in and out of a house that close to mine.
I tried to be irked at him, but all it did was arouse me even more. You had to hand it to someone who was that enterprising. Especially someone with such a gorgeous dick.
I tried to think who lived at the house whose yard I was surveying. Goss… Foss… Foss something. That's all I could recall.
I closed my eyes, pushing my fingertips to my temples in order to elicit a recollection – some memory of the people who I invited in the house at which I was looking.
It became important to me. What was the point of living in a shell? That's what had driven me to the brink of a nervous breakdown – the chronic frustration and boredom of not having contact with people outside of my husband and children.
It became vital for me to remember something about the people who lived in that house to prove I hadn't been permanently dehumanized by ten years as an uptight, sex-starved housewife.
Foss… Foss… their name was coming to me. Fossgraves, that was it. Earl and Miranda Fossgraves. I'd been introduced to them once at a PTA meeting when they'd first moved into the neighborhood. He was in plastics or something. How could I have forgotten them? They were such an unlikely couple.
He was about five feet tall and five feet wide, totally bald. A human bowling ball. But pink… like he was made out of rubber. He was of indeterminate age, but at least ten years older than his wife, who seemed a taut thirty.
She was tall and statuesque, with a perfect body – a high-breasted monument to the perfectability of the human form. Silky brown hair cascading over her shoulders and down her gracefully sloping back. Long lissome legs. Now I remembered her perfectly… Miranda Fossgraves. I recalled her perpetual smile now.
Now how could I have forgotten a couple like that, I thought. There could only be one explanation: I'd been turned-on by her and, in my old mousy way, had immediately buried my dangerous attraction in my unconscious.
She'd been a friendly woman. She'd introduced herself as Miranda and asked me to come over and have coffee some time.
Well, that was three or four months ago, but better late than never. I'd take her up on her hospitality.
Within a matter of minutes I was going up her walk, chuckling at the tell-tale proliferation of weeds. I wondered what would happen if Ron should happen to accidentally go to work for some old confirmed virgin whose cunt had grown over, someone who actually insisted he mow her lawn for ten bucks. The poor guy would probably wind up as a teenage heart-attack victim from the shock.
When I rapped on the door, and nobody answered, at first I thought perhaps nobody was home. But then I heard someone stumbling and then hissing in a female voice, "Goddamn it!"
When the door finally opened, I didn't immediately recognize Miranda. I was too busy looking at a part of her I'd never seen.
All she was wearing was the sheerest nightie I'd ever seen. The top did nothing to conceal her succulent tits, their purple nipples straining lushly through the transparent fabric. The hem came about halfway down her crotch, the curly triangle of her pubic bush as apparent as if she'd been completely nude. Below there was nothing, her bare cunt flexing between her solid, tanned thighs.
"Can I help you?" she said. "I have all the Avon products I really need, and I've already tried Jehovah's Witness and didn't like it. I'm into transcendental meditation flow."
I knew I was embarrassing myself but I couldn't take my bulging eyes off the gorgeous sight of her bare snatch. It actually seemed to glisten, her shiny pussy lips drooping pinkly at the bottom of her pubic V.
When my eyes dropped to her heavenly thighs I knew the glistening wasn't just my imagination. Her thighs were glazed with wetness all the way to the front. I gulped as I realized her pussy was sopping wet and that I had interrupted her doing something very personal.
"Ron?" I involuntarily blurted, instantaneously blushing.
For the first time I looked at her face, silently begging her not to think me a fool. Her beautiful features were distorted by uncertainty, until that big smile I'd remembered suddenly appeared and she said, "Oh, you mean the guy that mows lawns. Is that why you're here? What about Ron?"
I was so flustered that I reverted to my mousy ways, trying to present myself as a respectable housewife. "Actually," I said, "I've been wondering if you think he's worth the money."
"I beg your pardon."
"See," I improvised, trying to save face, "I live across the street at 942 Fredericks. I've seen the young man a few times over at your place, and just assumed he does gardening for you, too. I thought we might compare notes to see if we're getting our money's worth."
"Well, my, my," she laughed gorgeously, her deep-red lips pulling over her spectacularly white teeth, "this is certainly a new kind of consumer survey: the neighborhood gangs up against a teen who's trying to save enough money to go to college."
"Is that what he told you?"
"Sure."
"He told me it was to buy a Honda."
"Well, nobody's denying that the guy is clever," she said. "I know you asked first, but tell me, do you think you're getting your money's worth, Mrs. Fredericks."
"Alice," I said. "Just call me Alice."
"How about it, Alice? Is Ron giving you your money's worth?" she said, and I couldn't help but look at her spectacular breasts and her sodden pussy.
"Yes… uh… yes, I guess so," I stammered.
"I thought so," she said brightly. "From the looks of your yard, he's doing as good a job over there as he is over here. Not to mention at Mrs. Tittleson's down the street."
"Is he here today?" I forced myself to ask, knowing that I was on the brink of revealing my secret life.
"No, as a matter of face, he's not," she answered calmly. "I think he's with that girlfriend of his. That cheerleader. Ginny something."
"Mmmm," I said.
"Oh," she squealed, "you know her too. Isn't she divine?"
Without thinking, I nodded my head.
Obviously there were no secrets between us any longer.
"To tell you the truth," she said, "earlier today I was looking over at your house and was wondering if Ron was over there. Then I called his house and his mother told me he was with Ginny."
"I was doing the same thing," I laughed with surprising ease, astonished at how my tenseness vanished with her admission.
"I see you didn't get quite as frustrated as I did," she said, spreading her hands out in front of her to emphasize her all-but-naked body.
"I didn't call his mom, if that's what you mean," I teased, looking squarely at her mouthwatering body.
"Come to think of it," she said, "there's no reason we have to let this throw us. Especially now that we know we both have the same gardener. Why don't you come on in and get comfortable?"
Once inside her expensively furnished living room we took seats across from one another, each of us eyeing the other. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, as she flung her long bare legs out on the coffee table, revealing a perfect chute to her glistening pussy. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and from the way she was looking at me, she had the same problem.
"It's hot today, isn't it?" she said.
"Yes," I agreed, practically panting my answer from the thrill of gazing at her throbbing breasts and open, trickling pussy.
"I can see the sweat on your forehead," she said sympathetically. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable – that's why I invited you in."
"But… I… I…" I stuttered nervously, sweat creating dark circles under the arms of my thin blouse.
"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "Nobody's going to barge in on us."
"What about your husband?" I asked anxiously.
"The money machine?" she laughed derisively. "Forget about him. He's been in Japan for ten days trying to negotiate the terms for a shipment of dildoes. The Japanese make the best ones."
I was shocked. "I thought he was in the plastics business."
"He is," she said. "What do you think they make those things out of these days? Vinyl. It feels just like the real thing against your skin, believe me. Want to see one? We've always got tons of them around. Earl says he's paid for our house and furniture on the profits from importing those mothers just since we moved here three-and-a-half months ago."
I was astonished. And under my skirt, my cunt was absolutely foaming.
"Well," she said cheerfully, "are you game? Wanna see one? I've got one a foot long in the closet. It'll just take me a minute to get it."
I dumbly nodded my head, not knowing what else to do.
"Okay, I'll go get it. Just one condition, though," she said, as she got up, putting her long graceful legs under her and walking toward my chair. "I'm going to feel real bad if you don't accept my hospitality and make yourself real comfy while you're in my home. As comfy as I am. You'll hurt my feelings if you don't."
"I… I… I…" I hopelessly stammered.
"Don't be shy," she said. "I've already noticed that you don't have a stitch on under that short skirt, so it won't be a bit of trouble." Before I could react, she reached down, pulling my skirt over my lap and fully exposing my bubbling pussy.
I tried to close my thighs so she couldn't see the wet pinkness of my gaping aroused crack, but some inner force seemed to hold me back. My legs quivered, but they didn't move, my thighs implacably remaining six inches apart no matter how hard I concentrated.
"Look at that," she said, leaning down and peering into the sticky well of my thighs, "your pussy is staining my chair. You ought to be careful about whose house you go over to without wearing any panties with a juicy twat like you've got."
"I… I'm sorry," I blushed. "I didn't know… didn't realize."
"Don't give it a second thought," she said cheerfully. "The upholstery is Scotch-guarded, it'll wipe up in a second. Let me just stick my hand down here and…"
Her hand didn't even make a pretense of wiping the stain, busy fingers instantly encircling themselves in the tendrils of my pubic bush as she began nabbing my cunt. Automatically I writhed under her touch, my thrusting hips arching my soggy pussy into the air. Her fingers slid into me, filling my pussy in a pumping motion that drove me wild.
As her thumb pressed against my clit, Miranda leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Now are you ready for the dildo… or do you want to lick my cunt first?"
Her boldness sent shivers down my spine, the rapid succession of events having reduced me to numbed pliancy. I was a prisoner to the feeling between my legs – a feeling which would only stop when another human being made me come.
As Miranda stroked my pussy, waiting for me to make up my mind between the dildo and her succulent cunt, it occurred to me that either a man or woman would do when I was this horny. In fact, I licked my lips thinking of the potential pleasure of making it with another woman, knowing that if we got it on she would experience the same sensations and emotions as I when we came together.
"Your cunt," I gasped feverishly. "I want your cunt."
"The couch… the couch…" she crooned, moving backward and beckoning with her hands for me to follow. I followed like I was magnetized, unable to resist the glistening sheen of her trickling crotch and the fantastic tits poking in full detail through the transparent nightie.
Miranda kept moving backward until she bumped into the couch. Purposely tripping against it, she fell over so that she landed flat on her pretty ass in the separation between the two cushions. The impact of the fall splayed her long legs, both of them spread all the way to opposite ends of the sofa. Pinioned because of the drop between the cushions, her cunt stood out like a succulent piece of ripe fruit, a lush tropical melon some native had just whacked in half with a machete. I absolutely drooled… at both ends.
I tore off my blouse, exposing my heaving breasts, lusting to be naked with Miranda. Flying at her with kisses, I bathed her beautiful bare body with my lips and tongue. The kisses went lower and lower, trailing between her lustrous breasts and down across her taut belly. For a moment I paused at her navel, filling it with my hot, throbbing tongue.
Then lower still.
My hot breath steamed against the damp curls of her arousal-drenched bush. My tongue twisted in a relentless course through the silky pubic hair. Downward.
When my tongue found the pink pearl of her clit in the pungent furrow between her thighs, Miranda no longer had any alternative but to cry out in joy.
Crouching before Miranda's teeming crotch, I lifted her thighs to my shoulders. She helped me by raising her astonishingly flared hips, spreading her legs widely in the exciting process.
With my passionately wet target spread like an erotic fold-out in some incredibly lewd magazine, I threw my face into my indescribably pleasant task. My quick kisses traced the bulging lips of Miranda's pussy furrow, sacking the moisture that had irrigated her crotch like a flood. Eagerly my tongue licked up and down her slit, spreading the red pussy lips on the outside to reveal the pink lips within. Her cunt opened like an artichoke to me, more and more succulent as I got closer to the core.
As my tormenting tongue swirled the secret bud that was her clit, Miranda gasped chokingly, shuddering from the pleasure of my mouth on her pussy. The couch was an expensive one made out of solid oak, but right now Miranda's joyful writhing under my sucking had it shaking and hopping off the floor.
I pressed my face hard against Miranda's fantastically sweet pussy. Now my kisses centered on her throbbing clit. I suctioned the turgid joy-button between my lips, fluttering it with the erect tip of my tongue. All the while, the pungent scent of feminine sensuality filled my nostrils, the muskiest turn-on I'd ever smelled.
Leaving her clit for a moment, I began to lap my tongue up and down the sucking gash of Miranda's pussy. Her cunt was soon brimming with a combination of my spit and her love-juice, a concoction which I desperately tried to lick up. I pressed my lips to Miranda's cunt-mouth and licked fervidly.
The unceasing discharge from Miranda's berserk pussy filled my mouth with a taste so sweet it's a wonder I didn't contract diabetes. The lips of my mouth reaching out to seal the lips of her pussy, my tongue surged into her fucking canal, jabbing in and out like a tiny, twisting prick.
Miranda continued to moan in ecstasy, wriggling her ass in a shimmying frenzy on the couch. Her thighs quivered crazily against my buried face, seizing me like I was being attacked by a pair of berserk vibrators. The more she shook, the more her pussy juice spewed into my mouth, the sweetness gagging me with its frothy volume.
Then, with a shudder of excruciating delight, Miranda started to explosively come. Her orgasmic reflexes jolted and bucked her all the way across the couch, involuntarily pulling her cunt from my mouth, and then depositing her in a leg-spread heap on the floor. Following her, I dove for the hairy, drooling target between the perimeter of her golden thighs.
Immediately imprisoned in the maw of her hot, velvet pussy, I slid my tongue into Miranda's cunt, orally fucking her with a few last plunging strokes as she got her rocks off in my mouth. A fresh torrent of love-juice gushed out of Miranda's depths, as I gave her a long, sucking kiss. The stickiness cascaded through my lips and washed down my throat. I swallowed with delight, working my lips and tongue carefully to draw out the last morsel of feminine pleasure.
At last, Miranda fell back, temporarily exhausted from coming.
I rose from my kneeling position and smiled at my dazed neighbor. My lips, chin and cheeks were damp and glossy with the outpouring of her cunt. I lingered over her, my throbbing pussy oozing between my legs as they straddled her hips.
Slowly I bent my knees, carefully squatting and moving my body forward. My cunt slowly moved on a downward angle toward Miranda's panting mouth, my open slit so hot that my pussy juice seemed more like molten lava spewing out of a volcano. Oh, God, how I wanted my cunt on her mouth, her tongue lapping me toward orgasm until my pussy exploded as I had made hers do. I prayed she wasn't too tired.
Just before I bridged the last few inches between my pussy and her face, Miranda spoke, convincing me that I was not going to be disappointed within the next few minutes. "Sometimes a woman understands how to give another woman pleasure better than a man… ever can," she said, the breath from her words wafting hotly between my quivering thighs.
I grinned happily. "Are you ready to make me a believer, Miranda? My pussy is about ready to explode. Only your tongue can put out the fire."
"Okay," she called up, her voice throbbing with restored vigor. "Sit on my face."
Instantly accepting her invitation, I squatted all the way down, my cunt plunging toward her awaiting mouth as I straddled her supine body. My brimming snatch swayed a fraction of an inch above her face, briefly teasing her, before it dropped all the way. At last her face was smothered with my wet pussy.
I could feel the lips of my pussy meeting Miranda's mouth, the experience sensational. I cried out and knotted my hands into tight fists, an instinctive reaction as Miranda's long tongue started to probe the depths of my wide-open cunt.
Miranda's eyes smiled up at my enraptured face mischievously. If her lips smiled, they were hidden by the canopy of my sucking pussy. I moaned and pressed my snatch down against Miranda's desperately suctioning mouth.
Whimpering and writhing, I practically flattened the back of Miranda's head against the carpet as I ground my crotch lustily against her face. Twisting like a dancer, I rubbed my pussy back and forth across her mouth, feeling her teeth rub gently across my labia and clit.
While I shivered uncontrollably, Miranda duplicated the oral thrills I had moments ago sent coursing up her cunt. The excitement was unbearable as Miranda's lips and teeth nipped at my clit. Her tongue lapped my slit and then stabbed into my cunt-mouth, alternately licking and orally fucking me.
Hopelessly inflamed by the rampage of Miranda's mouth, an orgasm was soon on me, the climax I had craved and prayed for. Waves of ecstasy tore through me. I sobbed and clamped my loins tightly over Miranda's face. Joy-juice poured from my cunt and into my neighbor's waiting mouth. I could hear her gurgle as my pussy juice slid down her throat.
My coming abating for now, I lifted my temporarily satisfied cunt from Miranda's beaming face. She looked incredible with her face coated with the syrup of my coming, almost like she was melting. When I looked at her sloppy, blissful expression, my pussy sang with satisfaction.
"Kiss me," she beckoned. "Lick your own juice off my face."
I fell on top or her. Our bodies intertwining on the floor. When our lips met, the pungent thrill of my own cream made me lurch in ecstasy, my own sweetness tilling my senses. A pool of pussy juice that she had stored in her mouth slid down my throat as our lips met and tongues darted, my sweetness mingling in the pit of my stomach with Miranda's.
We were laying side by side with our tits pressed together and our legs interlocked so our pussies rubbed. When the kiss was over I was so ecstatic with joy that I couldn't help but ask, "How was it for you?"
"The same as it was for you," she sighed. "Wet… and wonderful. Do you still wonder if that twerp Ron is here?"
I laughed and shook my head no. "I wonder what Ron would think if he could see his two best customers now."
"I wonder what our husbands would think," she giggled, digging her thigh into my pussy.
"Please don't remind me," I giggled, running my lips along her cheek and fondling her breasts.
"Not one of them would probably believe it," she said.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"You know men even when they're still just boys, like Ron. They all think that no woman can do without them. If a couple of women decide to take matters into their own hands or should I say pussies? They immediately conclude we're dykes."
"Well, there's certainly nothing queer about a couple of grown women making love to give pleasure to each other. Especially while everyone with a dick between their legs is ignoring them," I said seriously.
I was tired of being held like a puppet on a string by men. My adventure with Miranda had spontaneously expanded my horizons to an infinite degree. I would never stay horny again, as long as she was living across the street.
Wanting to show her how much I dug her, my mind recalled the offer of the foot-long dildo she had stored in her closet. "Get it," I urged. "Get that thing you were talking about earlier."
"The dildo?" she said, accurately reading my lustful thoughts. "Do you think you can take it?" she asked. "What's the biggest prick your pussy has ever handled? Your husband's? Ron's?"
"No," I confessed with some hesitation. "A door-to-door brush salesman at the beginning of the summer."
"Oh yeah," she sighed in obvious recognition.
"You?" I blurted. "I shared him with you, too?"
"You better believe it; I never miss an opportunity," she laughed. "Looks like we've got a lot in common."
When the surprise passed, I laughed too, thinking about the irony of both of our pussies being filled by that anonymous salesman's cock on different occasions. "Say, did you happen to get that guy's name?" I asked good-naturedly.
"Nope."
"Neither did I. I don't even remember what he looked like for sure," I confessed.
"We were talking about dick sizes," she brought me back to the subject. "If that dude was the biggest throbber you've ever had, then that means a maximum of ten inches. This dildo we've been talking about is two inches longer, and God knows how much thicker than that salesman's dork. It's okay if you want to try a smaller one. Like I said, we've got tons of them."
"The biggest," I insisted.
She scrambled up off the floor. Running over to the closet, she opened the door and disappeared inside, the clattering of objects falling on the floor resonating through the house. Finally she came out carrying a cardboard box that seemed to be filled with junk.
However, once she brought it over to me, I could see that there were a number of items which were anything but junk if one had a throbbing pussy. One item above all the others made my cunt ache in anticipation.
Miranda drew out what first looked like a thick piece of hose. A bouncy, lengthy tube of resilient black vinyl more than two feet long. But I instantly saw that it was no regular hose. For each end of the vinyl instrument was shaped like the bulbous head of a huge black prick.
"I thought you said it was only a foot," I said in excited alarm. "That thing looks more like two."
"It is," she chuckled smugly, holding it out in front of her at full length like she was a zookeeper displaying a prize python. "A foot for each of us."
"You mean we can both fuck with it at the same time?" I shrieked with joy. "Oh God, I love it!" The idea of fucking and being fucked by another woman drove me wild, my cunt itching to get started.
Miranda grinned at my excitement. She clamped her fist around the middle of the two-headed dildo, making it shake like it was alive. From the box, Miranda took out a jar of petroleum jelly and began to smear the lubricant over each glossy head.
"Oooooooh," I groaned in anticipation, my mouth watering, "how do you use that monster? Are you sure it won't kill us?"
"Don't you hope it does?" she giggled.
"You better believe it," I admitted, chomping at the bit.
"Okay, just wait another second," Miranda promised.
When she was finished rubbing the jelly into a thick, glossy sheen over the twin heads of the dildo, she smiled, pointing one knotty end of it straight at me, drawing a bead on my pulsing loins.
"Spread your legs as wide as you can, honey!" she exclaimed. "This is going to rip you apart!"
"Is that a threat or a promise?" I answered buoyantly. Following her instructions, I threw myself back on my elbows, pulling apart my thighs as I locked my knees and spread my legs, exposing my eager pussy to the maximum. Up on my elbows, by looking through the V of my outstretched legs I could see every gorgeous thing that was going to happen.
With her expert fingers, Miranda parted my soggy pussy lips. Placing the huge head of one end of the artificial cock against my cunt, she gently applied pressure.
"Ooooooh," I hissed, as the black bar slid through my parting pussy lips and slipped thickly into my waiting fuck canal. "Ooooooh, Miranda, it's going to go all the way through me."
"You wish," Miranda teased as she carefully stuffed about half the long rod into my cunt, enchanted, she watching my pussy mouth stretch into a wide O to receive the oval bar. "Now for me," she said.
The other end of the vinyl dildo curved twitchingly from my parted thighs like a real cock – its far end rooted deep in my cunt as though it were actually growing out of my hairy crotch. Miranda looked at it for a moment, fondling it like it was a real prick, then planting a light kiss on its knotty head. As her lips brushed wetly against the end of the phallic instrument looming from my groin, I was almost certain that I could actually feel them.
Now she moved forward and straddled my hips, hovering over the swinging dildo. She smiled down at me as she got ready for her cunt to swallow her end of the hard vinyl cock. "Now you see it just like a man does – only you're going to feel it like a woman."
"The best of two possible worlds," I answered, thrusting my pelvis so the outer end of the prick between my legs would snap impatiently at her waiting pussy.
She positioned the slick end of the dildo against her drooling snatch. Closing her eyes in bliss, she used her expert fingers to force the huge black head past the outer lips of her cunt, then, sighing, she lowered her crotch down toward mine.
Squish! The thick cock vanished into her pussy.
"Holy fuck!" she gasped as her distended cunt slid down the greased pole to smack wetly against my waiting pussy. Only a thin band of black vinyl gleamed between the slippery lips of our interlocked cunts, as we started to fuck.
Now it was my turn to gasp as the force of Miranda's descending pelvis drove the dildo further and further up my fucking canal. All evidence of the phallic implement had vanished within our pussies as her cunt pressed maddeningly against my tormented box. The tingling buds of our clits poked each other like sharp needles.
The pressure of our buckling hips drove each end of the dildo far into both our cunts. The knotty heads pushed harder and harder into our engorged screwing tunnels, the barbed heads bruising excitingly against the hidden nodules of our fuck-contracted cervixes.
"Move with me… move with me," Miranda stammered. She raised her hips with a deafening sucking noise, as a third of the black hose slid out of her cunt, and the same expanse out of mine. The vinyl cable glistened erotically with lubricant and pussy flow.
Then, without warning, Miranda lowered her hips once more. Her act drove the ebony length of the dildo right back into our cunts, making it vanish to the naked eye. As our loins crashed together again, my come-frothed snatch slapped against Miranda's beautifully hairy crotch, a foot of vinyl dick within each of us once more.
I was enraptured by the foot of hardness inside me, as Miranda's pussy squashed against my cunt. Groaning and wiggling, we reamed each other out. Every thrust of our hips… every wriggle of our asses… made the vinyl cock move inside us, the fucking we were throwing into each other stimulating hidden pleasure-points within us that neither of us could have known existed.
"Oh, that's it, baby," she moaned. "Make love to me like a man. Be a black man! Fuck me with your big black cock!"
"Oooooooh!" I replied moaningly. "Give it back to me. Fuck me, fuck me hard!"
Up and down we writhed and wrestled. Our flesh, sweaty with passion, slapped and bounced against the carpet, the thumping of our bodies shaking the walls. It seemed like our cunts would split apart as we ground our dripping love-slits together with bruising force.
The air was humid with the fragrance of flowing pussy juice and the acrid odor of wet vinyl. Our moans and whimpers mingled in an erogenous cacophony with the slurping twin smacks of the dildo sliding in and out of two foaming cunts.
Miranda leaned forward to embrace me in a gesture of total love, squashing her perfect tits against my throbbingly tender counterparts. Our arms intertwined, our mouths meeting and our tongues penetrating in an exquisite Sapphic kiss.
While we kissed, our hips continued to piston against each other, erotically fighting the black length that chained us together. In and out of our spasming cunts the long tool coursed, glistening in ebony darkness from the emulsion of jelly and pussy juice that enveloped its expanse. Spreading dampness covered the carpet under our bodies, the dark stain of love soaking through to the floorboards.
The mutual gasping accelerated until the room resonated with the sound of our uncontrollable panting. We were both coming now, our simultaneous orgasms causing each of us to try and drive the monster cock connecting us deeper into the other's cunt.
Time after time I was convinced that we had fucked each other as hard and as deeply as possible, and then a shared orgasmic thrust would send the heads of the dildo deeper into our bodies. Writhing and clutching and fucking and grasping, we rolled wildly on the floor, tumbling around the room in a climactic frenzy.
And then finally, it was over. Dropping side by side, we smiled at each other, each of us drenched in the afterglow of a perfect fuck.
"Ooooooh baby," Miranda murmured, "if I'd have come one more time my pussy would have self-destructed."
"I think mine melted," I grinned back.
"If it did, you'll have to make a special trip to Denmark and have a new one made," she kidded, "because I'm not going to let this be my last time between your legs, honey."
"Don't worry," I laughingly reassured her, "my cunt's indestructible. If it can survive all those years of my husband and not dry up and blow away, it'll last forever."
We lay nestled on our sides, face to face. Our bellies were still pressed together, exchanging warmth. Between us, the curling tube of the dildo's middle was apparent, our tired cunts still joined by a common bond.
"Let's just stay hooked together for the rest of the afternoon while we nap," Miranda suggested with a yawn. "If one of us happens to have a wet dream, it'll be dynamite."
"Just one thing, Miranda," I said.
"What?"
"If you dream you're being fucked…"
"Yes."
"Wake up and look between your legs. It'll probably be me."