"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.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"You!" she cried at Betsy. "It had to be you!"
Tears glistened on her cheeks.
And Betsy, still holding George's scrotum to the juiced flesh under her cunt mouth, aware of the glorious hardness of the half of his cock remaining pronged up her hole, possessively clutched her handful, and gasped his shoulder, pulling him to her.
"You slut!" Vera cried. "Treating me this way after I – after we – you and I – I thought you wed – about me…"
Her voice faded, broke as she sobbed.
George, caught by his wife with his cock in another woman, turned beet red, sputtered, and avoided both their gazes.
This shattering of Betsy's lovemaking, the most exciting fuck and the wildest cum of her entire life, a cum from which she had not, quite recovered, left her speechless. Yet she was the one who had to straighten it out, and she guessed only a far-out approach would do.
She said, "It's because of how I love you, Vera."
The girl swallowed hard, then choked. "Love? So that's love? You slut, you're what I heard you shrieking, you're a pig, a sow, a pig cunt!"
"And I was, because your husband fucked me out of my mind, better than he ever did you because he wasn't sure you wanted it. Sure, you love his cock but you don't turn on, you're held back by guilt over loving girls but I'm not, I loved sexing with you and I'm not ashamed of it, and if you'd come here and let us hug you, we'll get you so hot you'll sizzle."
Vera stared open-mouthed, perhaps confused by the flood of talk, which Betsy guessed was part nonsense but at least it had shut Vera up.
She said, "Vera, he's a beautiful man and you and I will share him, and he and I will share you."
The girl looked at her husband. "George, it's crazy…"
"No!" George growled. "It's great. Honey, you come here and take Betsy's place, and I'll shove into you with her juice still on my prick!"
"You're insane!"
George, his jaw set, eased out of Betsy's cunt and strode toward his wife. Betsy clutched her emptied hole, achingly deprived, but George was right, and his move followed what she had told him. He seized Vera's arm, wide-eyed, sobbing again.
George said, "I'm sick of us lying to each other. When you get a lech for a girl, tell me, and if Betsy and I want to fuck we'll do it at our house, all three together if you want."
Vera gazed wet-eyed at Betsy. "Can it – what George says – work?"
For answer Betsy climbed off the stool and gathered the girl into her arms, hugged her, kissed her cheek, whispering, "Kiss me, Vera. Let George see it. Show him."