Tommy felt her cunt gripping his cock stubbornly. He felt the rippling start deep in her twat as it whorled around his prick.
"Tommy! Oh, God! I'm coming! I'm coming! My cunt feels so damn hot! Aaiiiieeee!!"
Connie's thighs strained. Her tits felt heavy and hot as they dangled, rubbing her nipples against her satin sheets. She leaned down, her face pillowed by her crossed arms. She was exhausted, yet Tommy's prick was so full of hardness that some inner desire forced net to move her cult flack and forth along his prick.
Tommy felt the muscles of her ass relax as she fucked back and forth in a slow and easy motion. He gritted his teeth and tensed his haunches. His prick quivered inside Connie's cunt.
"Oh, my God! Do that again, Tommy!"
Tommy strained, his prick tensing, then quivering deep in Connie's wet, warm snatch.
"Oh, God! Tommy! I've never felt so fucking good. Oh, God! I want you to come now! I want you to spray your cum all over my pussy! Come, Tommy! Come!"
Tommy concentrated hard; he shoved deep into her pussy.
"Oh, God! Hurry, Tommy! I can't stand it! Please come now!"
Tommy began to move, slowly at first, his prick inching into her cunt, then withdrawing slowly. God, her cunt was clutching so tightly to his prick. His balls swelled, and cum began forcing its way into his cock-tube.
He fucked faster, gripping her ass-cheeks and pulling her cunt hard against his thrusting prick.
The wads of cam were building in his balls. The first drops emerged from his piss-slit. His cock-head grew bigger and bigger, harder and harder.
"Fuck me, Tommy! Fuck me hard! God, your cock's so goddamn big!"
Then Tommy released all of his pent-up jizz, the spurts of sperm drenching her clutching cunt.
"Aaaiiieeeh"
Tommy could no longer maintain a grip on her sweaty ass. His hands slipped as the last of his cum spewed forth. His chest smacked down on her back, and both their legs seemed to slide backwards.
Tommy rolled slowly over to his side as Connie lay flat on her stomach. He placed his arm across his forehead, closed his eyes as the pleasurable sensation of release and fulfillment coursed through his body.
Connie lay still. She was exhausted yet her spirit seemed rejuvenated. Every bone in her body ached, yet she loved the feel of such pleasurable agony.
Slowly she rolled over, saw Tommy breathe heavily as his cheeks glistened with perspiration. "You know what, Tommy?" Connie whispered, "What, Connie?"
"I think-I mean please don't say I'm crazy-but I think I love you."
"Then I must be just as crazy," Tommy replied, rolling onto his side and smiling.
Connie smiled. God, the whole world was crazy-but it sure was crazy good.
Elvira Schellenberg was fucking drunk. Blindeyed, pin-holed drunk. She had never been drunk before.
"Give me 'nother, Marty-farty."
Martin Seaman poured another Scotch straight. He slid it across to Elvira. "Gee, Miss Schellenberg, I think you better stop drinking so much."
"What's goose for the gander is goose for the goose.
"Huh?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up and lemme drink my piece in peace."
Martin shook his head. The whole fucking town of Weedville was going bananas. Shit, Delbert Fancy had come in asking for aspirin while grabbing his crotch. What the fuck did he think the Buckaroo Bar was-a pharmacy?
And at eight o'clock, Coach Crowley had almost torn down the bar, complaining about his piss-ant kids not running enough laps.
Hell, he had enough worries with the dusters, hog-farmers and shit-kickers. He sure didn't need no extra hemorrhoids to worry about-Christ, what a pain in the ass Monday nights were.
Elvira glanced up blearily at the TV set over the bar. Howard Cosell, old weasel-face, rhetorically announced that the halftime score was Buffalo zero, Chargers zero.
Elvira nearly toppled off the stool as she tried to get down. A burly two-fisted drinker helped steady her arm. s "Get yer fuckin' hand off me, pervert!"
Elvira dizzily walked out of the Buckaroo Bar. She knew she had gotten soused; she was trying to forget what she had seen at school that day.
Eddie Beasly fucking Marcia Moresby.
Eddie was really giving her the cock. And Marcia was moaning like crazy. Elvira had never seen such a sight
The horny kids were fucking right on top of her desk! Marcia was spread all over her history lessons, her legs sticking wide apart and straight up. Eddie was between the V of her legs, his pants heaped around his ankles, shoving his prick deep into moaning Marcia's pussy.
God, why had she gone back? Of all times to forget to bring test papers home. She had gone back and found them!
Why couldn't they have been fucking somewhere else? Why the hell had Eddie chosen her desk for a place to park Marcia's ass and plug her pussy? They could have at least gone somewhere private-like Lake Weed.
Oh, hell-ever since she had heard that lust-filled scream out at Lake Weed, Elvira knew that people did make love during the day. Out in broad daylight. And now she had found her own pupils not only screwing in daylight, but in a public building! Fucking on government property, in a building paid for by Weedville taxpayers.
Elvira's world was falling apart and she knew it. There was no decency left, no morals.
And then she came to the conclusion that maybe she was the one who was different. Maybe she was-abnormal. Of course, she had sexy desires like everybody else, but she didn't go around fucking in public places in the naked light of day. She just rutted at night-alone, with her cucumbers.
God, after seeing Eddie pound away at Marcia's cunt, after remembering that passionate plea echoing across Lake Weed, she needed a cucumber. Now!
Fuck the test papers!
Fuck the siren song at Lake Weed!
Fuck Eddie Beasly!
Fuck Marcia Moresby!
Fuck the cucumbers, because after having seven straight shots of Scotch, Elvira declared that she was not going to shove another goddamn vegetable into her cunt. She was going to be normal like everybody else-she was going to fuck a man!
Vance Manning.
Just as soon as the Bills-Chargers came was over, she was going to call him up and plead-no scream, like that passionate voice at Lake Weed-for him to fuck the shit out of her.
Vance had seen lots of assholes die before, but not like this one. This corpse was white as hell, naked as hell, and cum or something jizzy-looking was leaking from the limp cock.
Shit, he'd better call the cops. What was he saying? He was the cops!
Vance leaned down. Yeah, the old man was deader than a sock. He started to stand up, when he noticed the pictures scattered all over the studio.
He picked one up. He gasped. His prick lurched.
Connie Ryan, that's who it was, almost bare-assed naked. But she was too young-looking. Then Vance spotted the photo album.
He picked it up. His balls churned.
Christ, he was starting to come before he had gotten to the end of the book.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
Then Vance walked out of Boris' studio, he was a different man than the asinine clown that had barged in on a dirty old man who shot filthy pictures. Vance not only was going to be number-one asshole of Weedville, but he'd have everybody begging to kiss his number-one ass. For once, Vance Manning felt like he was the king of shitville.
CHAPTER NINE
Coach Crowley literally pounced on his wife when he got home that day. Shit, his balls were so uptight from remembering Marcia Moresby's hot ass sashaying around in the girls' locker room that he now knew what it felt like to have a case of "blue balls".
Delia had been washing dishes when Coach Crowley walked in through the kitchen door. The smell of roast beef wafted from the oven. The sports page was already set next to his plate on the table.