Jordan Worthington touched her feet.
"Oh there you are, Elizabeth
His hands were resting on her feet, and he was trying to figure out how high up on the bed he would have to crawl before his cock got into her cunt. He started crawling.
"Please be kind and gentle, Jordan."
Reverend Worthington was trying to be as kind and gentle as he could. But it was so damn ridiculous trying to find her cunt in the dark. He knew it was around here someplace.
Ah! There it was. He had brushed it with his knee; he had moved too far up the bed. He backtracked, placed his kindly hands as gently as possible on Elizabeth's trembling hips.
Reverend Worthington could feel her legs start to move up; she was ready to receive his seed.
His cock was ready shit, it had been ready for this occasion for the last three weeks. Ever since the last time he had been over to Connie Ryan's place, fucking and sucking the shit out of her cunt. He thought of Connie Ryan now. Imagined that it was Connie Ryan he was going to screw.
His cock was quivering, the tip exuding droplets of pre-cum on Elizabeth's pussy-mound.
"Eeeeekkk!" Elizabeth shrieked. Why did sex have to be so nasty!
Jordan had almost jumped out of the bed when she shrieked. "Are you hurt, Elizabeth?"
"N-No, Jordan. Just nervous, I guess." Elizabeth bit her lower lip. She could feel that drop of sperm winding its way through the hairs of her pussy. sliding oozingly through the slit of her cunt, finally resting wetly in the crack of her ass. She tensed her body. Prayed to God.
"Are you ready, Elizabeth?"
"Y-Yes, Jordan. I am ready to receive your seed." Why did sex make her feel like she was lying in hog turds?
Jordan lowered his body atop his wife's trembling flesh. His prick-head grazed against the lips of her cunt, and Elizabeth jumped as if someone had shoved a douche nozzle up her ass. Naturally her hips lunged in the wrong direction towards Jordan's ready to fuck prick.
The prick slid in; the full knob of his cock was inside her pussy.
Elizabeth jumped again. Fear was commanding her movements. She didn't want that prick up her cunt, but she was becoming so anxiety-ridden that every movement she made was forcing her cunt onto the shaft of Jordan's prick. God worked in mysterious ways.
Blood oozed from her lips. Tears were beginning to sting her eyes. Jordan's body was shaking so hard on top of her that she thought she could hear his bones rattling.
Of course, Jordan was shaking because he knew he couldn't bring himself to fuck his wife like he wanted to. No, he would have to fuck his wife like God intended. Not with lustful, open-mouthed roars that spewed spit across the sheets; not with hammering hips that would aggravate his hernia condition; not with his cock jabbing quickly in and out of Elizabeth's dry snatch while he thought of Connie Ryan's hot cunt devouring his prick.
Jordan slid his prick into Elizabeth's twat as kindly and as gently as he could. Now his balls fitted easily between the gap of her ass-cheeks.
Elizabeth was ready to faint. Endure. Endure. Endure.
Think of how sacred this act was. Think of how holy this union was. Think of the children that this would create. Don't think about the pain that stabbed viciously into her cunt, that seemed to rip through her pussy like a branding iron when in actuality Jordan had slipped his prick in as easily as putting on a glove.
Jordan drew back, his haunches tense, the muscles of his ass feeling like steel cords. Then, slowly, back into her cunt, his cock separating her pussy-lips, opening up her inner twat tissues, fighting desperately to get as far up into her pussy as it could.
Shiiiitttt! He was ready to cone! In one sacred stroke he was ready to seed the furrow of her cunt.
He came.
In holy streams.
Hot and creamy streams that had been lying dormant in his balls for three weeks.
He couldn't help it.
His prick and balls couldn't help it.
Nature couldn't help it; she was making him ejaculate wads of sperm into his wife's tight pussy.
Even God was on his side, or so Jordan thought. He had never come so hard in his life, as the spurts ofjism pulsed from his flaring cock-head.
Elizabeth said "Eeeekkkk!" as if his prick were a mouse.
But Jordan's prick wasn't a mouse; it was a rat because the owner of such a boner was thinking all the time about Connie Ryan's pussy and how it would be grabbing his prick and shaking every drop of spunk out of it not like his wife's pussy was doing now. Shit, what a dead cunt, like fucking left-over meat that had been in the refrigerator for two days.
Jordan couldn't wait to get back to the old regiment of fucking Connie Ryan once a week. He had put off seeing her for three weeks because he had to show Elizabeth his faithfulness to her by fucking her as if he hadn't fucked in a year.
He thought he had done a pretty good job.
CHAPTER TEN
Lucas Trimble couldn't fuck his wife any more. Not unless he wanted to shovel up six feet of dirt and violate a corpse. His wife had been laid to rest ten years ago before that Lucas Trimble, the mayor of Weedville, had laid her ass every night except on her red days. Even on those occasions he had made her suck his cock.
Lucas Trimble was a cunt hound. He demanded his cunt-meat like kings call for their meals. He just had to have a cunt holding tightly to his cock as he fucked the shit out of the woman who had offered him a piece of ass.
Now he had gone three weeks without pussy. He had called Connie almost every night, and she had told him that she was too busy, or she was on the rag or she was going bowling over in Pattonville. Lucas thought his balls were going to burst every day of those three weeks. But he had reverted back to his younger days when he was a very creative boy. He had stripped off the rolls of toilet paper in the three bathrooms of his house just to get to the cardboard tubes that the tissues were wound around.
Some axle grease smeared all over the inside of the tube, sprinkle a few drops of perfume that he had bought from the Avon lady, snip a few hairs from his head and paste them to the rim of the tube, and Lucas Trimble was ready to whoop it up.
He had slipped that toilet-paper tube over his prick-God, it was a tight fit, but the axle grease really helped. He gripped the outside of the tube, then started the age old fuck rhythm.
He sure wished he had some pictures of Connie Ryan while that toilet paper tube jacked like crazy over his cock. Then he had come, or was starting to come, and he gripped the cardboard cylinder too tightly.
The fucking thing was falling apart. His jizz was spewing out of one end of the tube, while the hairs were failing all over his sweaty belly. Shit, it was tearing right in half!
Christ, it was a shit-hole of a mess that Lucas Trimble held in his greasy palm. The goddamn thing looked like the afterbirth of a mare that had foaled triplets.
Shit, three weeks without Connie Ryan's cunt. He dialed her number, then slammed the phone down after fifteen rings. She wasn't home.
Lucas felt how stiff his prick was. He had to have cunt. And he was going to find some pussy under aged, hairless, furry, jail bait or haggish, he didn't give a shit. He needed pussy.
They met in the alley. Elvia Schellenberg coming out of the Buckaroo Bar, her cunt acting like a cow-cunt in heat, drunk out of her mind, and screaming for cock.
Lucas Trimble was coming from the opposite direction, swearing that he'd pick up the first chick in the Buckaroo Bar and hunch-fuck her ass all the way across the state of South Dakota.
"Elvira!"
"Lucas!"
"What are you doing here? Why, you're drunk as a skunk!"
"Y-Yes, I… I am."
Well, here was the first chick he came across. He looked at Elvira. Jesus, was he had hard up? Yeah, he was.
"Elvira, my balls are killing me. I gotta fuck. How 'bout it?"