Her sphincter caved in while her eyes went wild, her heart raced, and her nerves thrilled and sang in ecstasy. A cock was far bigger than a finger and she couldn't believe the cruel strain of her tight muscle opening for that rape stroke.
There was a massive shock of pain, fear and embarrassment at taking his cock into that private hole. There was thick oil and hard meat friction on her interior tissues that she already associated with hot sex. She gave a groan.
"Oh, noooo. So hard-so fast.”
He gripped her hips and forced her ruthlessly, her tunnel unsealing to this strange invader, and it seemed to her that every nerve in her lower body quivered with the intensity of mixed pain and pleasure.
"Deep, deep," he intoned, like a man drugged.
His cock oozed, up, up, up, driving her crazy. She'd never felt so open, so violated, so exposed to the harsh world, as quivering pink and tender tissues were forced to accept his deep penetration. She thought he must surely tear gaps in her sensitized flesh and destroy her. His average-sized prick felt like a ball-bat up there.
He gave a cry of inarticulate delight. She actually felt his cock throb in her tight tunnel and then he exploded. She jumped as if shot at his fast bursts of jissum.
"Oh, oh,-ohhhh, noooo," she wailed.
She was hot and he'd already faded.
"Not… to worry," he gasped. "You'll see.”
He lay on her while his cock ejaculated body hot semen that burned and oiled her ass. Then he began to move, slowly, and she felt the true wonder of good anal sex. Her asshole was stretched, but the pain was gone. The Vaseline made the cock friction sexy for both of them. Added to that was the wonderful spill he'd just pumped into her, giving her tunnel a silken, creamy feel.
His cock did not soften. He kept working it up and down her bowels, lifting her to higher and higher heights of pleasure now that her fear was gone. The forceful action moved the skin of her entire crotch so that even her clit got stimulation. When he tried to finger inside her cunt, she pushed his hand away.
"No. Do it all-with cock-in my ass," she begged. It was her chance of a lifetime to explore her anal urge to the extreme and see if she could go to orgasm from the cornhole action.
She knew she could. For once those sensitive nerves, thick around her sphincter, got plenty of stimulation to send hot messages deep inside her body. For another thing, she thrilled to the forced action, the natural function of hollow muscles to expel. This gave her wild rushes of delight, because in a perverse way, most of the pleasure came from the back-stroke of his cock, not the penetration.
She grunted as he thrust forward, finding the invasion of his prick vaguely unpleasant and somewhat alarming. She cooed when he slid back, the hot, pink tissues thrilling at her gut power. She could pinch down on her anal passage as well, if not better, than with her cunt to tighten on his cock.
John was completely out of the world. Forced to restrain or even hide his urge from the women he dated as a widower, he found himself ass-fucking a luscious young girl who wanted a hot cock up her rectum. She quivered under him, rich buttocks working, tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing, smooth flesh and muscle caressing his belly. It felt like his cock drove to the deepest, most sensitive part of her being on each stroke, and he felt her insides shift in little spasms as he found new nerves to fire with his plunging prick.
"Don't understand-why-best fucking," he went.
It was true that in normal sex he was good for only one good session a week. In anal sex, his cock was a tiger. Too excited to hold back, he always burst once he'd forced a woman's ass open to his depth. But his prick stayed hard and then he could rock in her and whip up a new bath of sperm from the crazy friction.
He hugged her completely now, with a good angle, relishing the contact of his torso on her nude back. He had a complete armful of nubile girl, driving her to glory with back door sex.
They twisted and gasped and plunged for long minutes. Abby felt that she'd never been used in sex before as she was now. Her whole body felt moist, her tits drove her crazy, her empty cunt sweated joy juice, and her clit burned like a pulsating, hard diamond. Her body was total slave to his prick, with the region from her waist down a chaotic, delicious bed of volcanic action, as her pleasure and sex tension rose.
Her orgasm was totally different from any she'd had before. A throbbing spike of pure, ecstatic passion formed in her back thighs and buttocks and seemed to burst outwards, her young body locked and then she totally lost control of her functions.
"Ahhhhhh-my assssss!" she keened.
Her sphincter clutched the moving shaft of his cock with involuntary spasms. Her empty cunt throbbed, too, and that felt good. What really whipped her to the heights was trying to get control of her wild, uncontrollable sphincter. As she squeezed down, the luscious quakes defeated her. She kept squeezing and losing control to the insistent prick and it was a long, majestic orgasm, compared to her others. She gurgled, sweated and drooled, and kept on gushing and gushing.
"Ah, oh, ah, oh, ah, oh-I'm so taaaaaaken," she squealed.
John had never felt so virile as in his complete mastery of the girl's body through her asshole. As she squirmed and squealed helplessly under him, her body lost to his prick power, he felt the sweet, sudden rush of his own orgasm. He was almost reluctant to give in to it, but he wanted the surging joy.
"Oh, Abby, now!" was all he said.
Then he, too, went stiff and began to fill her rectum with rich, body-hot spurts of male supremacy, planting his sperm deep in the body of the possessed female. Shot after shot of hot cream boiled into her ass as she tapered off her orgasm and quivered to take this new liquid invasion. He held her tight and worked off every drop of white-hot spend that the excitement of her cornhole had worked up.
Afterwards, in sheer pleasure, they lay locked, he stroking her moist flesh. He knew with growing wonder he loved this girl and would get to possess her ass all night long… for as long as his prick would stay hard.
Chapter 7
Professor Richardson Foster blanched when he opened the door of his big campus home and saw on his doorstep the young blonde coed that he'd had sex with earlier in the Lab.
"I want to see your wife," said Cheryl. "I've got to see Mrs. Lisbeth Foster.”
"Oh, oh, no, young lady. That's impossible," the frightened man cried. No doubt the young lady meant to blow the whistle on him.
For a few confused moments Cheryl didn't understand what was going on in his head. She concentrated totally on getting the figurine, and she had no thought of protesting Foster's sex use of her earlier. Just the same, she stood there shocked. In all of the excitement of the chase it hadn't occurred to her that Lisbeth Foster would turn out to be the wife of the very same professor whose cock she'd sucked.
Harold came out of the gloom to set things right.
"We have to see Mrs. Foster about a piece of sculpture I gave her today," he explained. Foster still blocked the door.
"My wife's having one of her bad headaches. You can't see her tonight.”
For once in his life, Harold rose to the occasion. Maybe it was his liking for Cheryl and what she and Abby had done for him.
"That's also why we came," said Harold smoothly. "I mean, I want to talk about the sculpture. Cheryl here-she's a Swedish masseuse. She's an expert on bad backs. When Mrs. Foster complained today, I knew I had to dig up someone for her."
She shot Harold a startled look and Foster said: "Is that true, young lady? You're a massager."
Anything to get into the house. "Yessir," she said. "I learned Swedish massage in New York. My father's a widower and he has lots of trouble with his back, so I learned.”
Foster hesitated, so Cheryl pushed past him into the house. She beckoned to Harold.
"Harold, maybe you'd better go see Mrs. Foster and let her know I'm here.”