Iris gasped as she felt his fingers come in contact with her sensitive inner cuntal lips, and then began to moan as the ceaselessly working fingers teased the delicate tissues.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh," she sighed softly as the index finger came into contact with the throbbing button of her clitoris. Expertly, she thrust her pelvis up and John's finger stroked the acme of her desire, sending chills rippling up and down her greyhound-like back. She could feel the hardness of his prick digging into her lower stomach and she felt an overpowering desire to have it crammed deep into her hot pussy. John's middle finger found the star shaped entrance to her body, and plunged into the warm fleshy folds. The contact with her hidden recesses seemed to set off a spark in Iris' body, and she thrashed about, desperately trying to engulf more of the fingers deeper into her hungry body. She wrenched her mouth free from John's, and began to toss her head from side to side.
"Oh, God, fuck me, darling, please fuck me now…" she moaned, digging her fingernails into her husband's back. Her animalistic clawing touched off the dynamite of John's week-long abstinence and he lowered himself slightly, until his prick was poised teasingly at her tight quivering cuntal opening. Withdrawing the lubricant-soaked fingers, he hesitated just a second before plunging his enlarged rod into her waiting orifice.
"Ohohohoohh," Iris groaned, her body leaping up off the bed in frenzied passion. She raised her legs and locked them tight up around her husband's back, imprisoning him in a desperate love-grip. Immediately, John began a slow fucking in and out, drawing the long prick out until just the head was still enclosed, and then ramming forward until the entire length of it was buried deep in her hungrily grasping cunt. Iris began to answer his downthrusts with an upsweep of her own, and tantalized his withdrawing cock by a slow, clasping downsweep. Their years of lovemaking had honed their reactions to a razor edge of precision and their bodies fucked in perfect unison, each completely familiar with the other.
Iris moaned softly, her entire being engulfed with sensuous desire, and John's gnawing had erupted into an all-devouring hunger, reaching for complete lustful satiation.
Carla Stafford walked along the woodland path, her shoulders slumped in dejection. Two weeks — two weeks she had been here at Endwood Camp, and it seemed like two years!!
Why did Daddy have to send me to camp again this year? she thought bitterly. Why can't he see that I'm grown-up? I'll be fifteen in two months, and he still treats me as if I'm a baby!
Oh, God, how I wish I could spend the summer with him, meeting all those interesting people, instead of here with these silly schoolgirls!
She looked up, and found herself in the driveway to the main house. She noticed the Harrault's station wagon and knew that John was back. Curiosity lead her up the driveway. There was no one in sight. The office door was locked so she couldn't even go talk to Mr. or Mrs. Harrault. Shrugging her shoulders, she was just about to turn and go back towards the wood, when she stopped. What was that strange noise? Silently walking closer to the house, she listened. There it was again! A whimpering, moaning sound! She tiptoed around the side of the house and the moaning sound got louder. There was an open window a few feet along the wall, and holding her breath, Carla crept up to it. Standing upright, she was able to see over the edge of the window and into the room.
Carla drew in her breath and gasped! Her eyes were riveted on the nakedly entwined couple in the bedroom. She had never seen anything like it! She knew she should leave, refrain from watching this private scene, but she couldn't tear herself away.
She feasted her eyes on the writhing figures on the bed. Iris' hands were digging hungrily into her husband's back, leaving deep red scratches on the smooth surface. Her face was grotesquely distorted, and her shiny dark hair was tangled and mussed. Her legs were kicking furiously in a wild staccato into his lower back, urging him on to greater and deeper surges. John's entire body glistened from his exertion, and occasionally he dipped his mouth down, and planted leechlike kisses on his wife's body, leaving a black and blue imprint of teeth on her soft flesh.
Carla dug her knuckles into her mouth to try and stifle the cry that was threatening to erupt when she first caught sight of John's huge penis as it withdrew from Iris' hot moist cunt. Her eyes bulged as they drank in the length of it. She couldn't believe that it could be so thick, so huge. She had never seen a male penis before — not even a picture of one and she had no idea that it could get so big. A strange new sensation caught hold of her body as she gazed at the skewering instrument — the blue venous underside, the angry red blood-engorged head. She noticed his balls dangling obscenely down between his legs and she thought she could see them throb with the weight of their lewd liquid. She watched in amazement as she saw John suddenly grasp Iris' legs and raise them up till they dangled over his shoulders. For a moment, he gazed at the salacious view of her unprotected crotch that this position afforded him, and as he did so, Carla could also see the whole of Iris' upraised pelvis.
Even from outside the window, Carla could see the hungry clasping hole of her cunt, opening and closing, trying to suck in anything that ventured near. She could see that the outer lips were swollen in passion, and the tip of her reddish clitoris was visibly quivering through the hair-lined flanges.
Then John plowed forward once more, sinking his rod all the way into Iris' upraised cunt.
"Hhhhnnnn," Iris moaned as the hardened head of her husband's prick slammed against her cervix, now exposed to assault from the unnaturalness of this new position.
Mesmerized, Carla watched as John surged forward again and again, his hands digging into Iris' buttocks, holding her in a love-locked vise.
Carla ran her tongue over her lips. Suddenly, her mouth was dry, and she felt hot and clammy all over. There was a curious burning sensation between her legs and she clamped her thighs together in an effort to quench it. Beads of perspiration broke out on her upper lip, and she felt dizzy. But she couldn't bear not to watch the lewd sight — she had to see everything. Her eyes still glued to the frantically fucking inside, she began to sway slightly in time to their furious rocking. Of its own accord, her hand flew to her small budding breasts, as yet unconfined by a bra, and gently began to massage the tiny nipples, which were beginning to involuntarily throb and ache. With a slow circular movement, she moved her palm over her awakening buds, bringing a little relief to her trembling body.
But her relief was short-lived. Yielding to the ache in her breasts had only served to increase the fire that was now suddenly burning like wildfire down between her legs. Frantically, she dropped her hand to her pubic mound, and pressed it against the quivering flesh.
She knew she should go now — that the scene inside was too much for her. But try as she would, she could not convince herself to leave the sight of the couple hungrily fucking inside. The fire raging between her legs was all-consuming. Casting a quick look around, she was relieved to see no one in sight.
Hastily, she dropped her hand and raised the hem of her short summer shift. Inch by inch, her hand crept up to the passion, moistened point of her desire. She slipped a finger inside the leg of her panties, and then gasped with relief as it made contact with the already moist flesh. Tentatively, she probed through the sparse, baby-fine hair, and stroked the outer lips gently. She stroked in time to the rhythm of the bucking bodies in the bedroom, and her eyes never left their wildly writhing figures. But she knew that what she was doing would never be enough. She would have to go further — she had to do something to control the burning searing fire raging out of control deep in her white young belly.
Sometimes, at night, or in the bath, she had played experimentally with her genitals, not really sure of what she was doing, and once or twice, she had touched the electric button of her clitoris. But always, fear of discovery and fear of what would happen had prevented her from going any further. Now, she knew that she wanted to go further — she had to have the relief that additional probing would bring.