Jack yelled and fell over backward in the grass…
***Over their drinks, Rhoda and Durward had discussed her session with Tom. Actually, once Durward smoothly maneuvered her onto the subject, Rhoda had done almost all the talking, with only random questionings and noddings and grunts from Durward to encourage her.
But the end result had been a strong inner excitement for both of them. Rhoda relived parts of the thrilling episode as she told it, and Durward vicariously thrilled to the lusty exploits of his son, though only a little more than he would have to any such story.
"At any rate," he commented, when Rhoda had told all, "I get the impression that Tom accounted for himself pretty well. I just hope his youthful vigor didn't spoil you for the enjoyments an old bastard like me can provide." He grinned winningly at her.
"No, to my surprise," she said thoughtfully, "I found that even though it was an exciting novelty, I was eager to get back to the more experienced men. His control was good, but he lacks the… instinctive perception of a partner that will develop with enough practice. I guess the only really plus factor in a young man like that is that he can shoot his semen harder and more bountifully… and more often, too, with a minimum of recovery time."
"But you prefer the techniques and instincts of the older males, if you have a choice?" he asked, needing the assurance. He was about to service her, and he wanted to dispel the virile shadow of his son's performance, especially since Rhoda obviously recalled it with some excitement.
"Definitely," she told him. "Which is why I'm sitting here and creaming so much I've soaked the slip cover on my bar stool! I'm dying to have you fuck me, Dur!"
"Jesus! What are we waiting for?" he asked. He slid off his stool and took her hand. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's make it!"
They hit the bedsheets like a returned sailor and his bride. Rhoda had not been kidding about soaking the bar stool. When she spread her legs widely and drew up her knees, Durward saw the shiny ooze on the insides of her thighs and the glistening drops that hung in the black hairs near the lower edge of her cunt. The outer lips were swollen to bitch-heat thickness, and a darkening was spreading through the pink meat rapidly as her sex flush progressed.
He stared at the tempting sight, feeling an added lust as he recognized the truth of her proclaimed passion for him. She was all woman – primitive in her basic lust and as unabashed as a sow in shoving her soupy cunt at him to be serviced.
"Fuck it, Dur!" she moaned. "For God's sake… ram that lovely cock in my hole and fill me up with it!" Her ass left the sheet as she tossed him a desperate grind and bump.
He ached to fill her itching swat, but he absolutely had to have a taste of that creamy ooze that was forming a glass-like pool in the upthrust cup of her pussy! He gave out a low wail and made a dive into her crotch. His tongue licked upward and he sucked at the juice as his lips covered her box.
"Dur!" she cried. "Don't make me wait… I'm too far along to be sucked off!"
He came up with the taste of her cunt filling his mouth, her smell fresh in his nostrils, and a hard-on that threatened to outlast his patience. He shoved it into the messy center of her twat and heard a distinct splash as his knob displaced the pool there.
Like a glove full of warm oil accepting its owner's hand, her sheath encompassed him. He slid his prick up the tunnel and felt it undulate around him as her excited cunt muscles swallowed at the welcome meat.
"Oh, Dur! Fuck me fast and sloppy!" she yelled. Her maw had already begun to pound up at him, taking him in great gulps that worked at his cock with cannibal-like greed. The lubricant soaked his whang like saliva in the avid mouth of her cunt.
He drove back at her, forcing her ass down onto the bed with merciless power as his crotch mat battered into hers, mingling their hairs and splashing her cream all over his groin and belly.
The room echoed a composite of sounds. There was the steady, muffled pounding of their padded pubic bones, the wet suck of their withdrawals, and the grunts and gasps they emitted in their mad frenzy to out fuck each other in what had to be a mutual desperation.
Durward had his hands on her tits, working at the udders and nipples with every finger and thumb. Her legs gripped him, holding them together as he fucked into her, leaning over her sweaty body with his sweatier body, aware of the drops that fell from his hairy chest to splash on her belly.
"Empty your balls, Dur!" she cried in a panic as her body's reflexes took control away from her. He felt her start to slide away from him as her legs – which locked them together – stiffened out in the throes of orgasm.
He grabbed her ass and pulled her toward him. Then he uncorked the biggest load he had shot off for years. It gushed into her cunt in angry blobs of cum that wouldn't quit; he felt drained, and still he was coming powerfully, forcing the overload out from around his plunging prick.
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bed at either side of her. She was panting so hard her tits heaved as if they would be launched into space. Her sweat and his had pooled in her navel; and her entire body, as much as he could see of it, shone as if it were oiled.
Her cunt kept convulsing and he let his cock marinate in their mixed juices, too exhausted to withdraw. But there was powerful inner satisfaction as he continued to lean over her, panting just as hard as she. He had turned her on as few men could, he knew; his self-confidence had never been greater.
Realizing that he had created a subconscious feeling of competition with his son, he grinned to himself and pulled his cock out of Rhoda, then lay down beside her. When he stopped panting, he indulged himself in a laugh.
"Dur? You're not flipping, are you?" Rhoda asked in a small voice.
"More like unflipping," he told her. "I really had myself buffaloed a while ago, envying Tom his youthful potency. After this boiling fuck, I'm convinced that I'm still quite a cocksman!"
"You've got this girl convinced, too!" Rhoda assured him. "You not only turned me on, but you stayed at the controls until you got the job done – with whistles and bells!"
"Right now, my whistle's too soft to blow, but if my 'bells' could ever ring, they ought to sound out loud at any moment; God knows they must be dry enough to rattle around in there!"
"Don't you believe it!" Rhoda protested. "I'm a little proud of my sexual prowess, too. And I'm going to show it off by blowing your whistle and getting another big load out of that bull's bag of yours. Just as soon as my cunt stops jumping around, that is!"
"The way it was going when I left it, Rhoda, that might be sometime next week. But don't rush it on my account. My pappy always told me a mare should be cooled down slowly, and the stud that served her, too."
"I know. I was born on a farm, Dur. With the mare, it's more to make the fuck 'take' so she'll foal. We're not after the same thing here."
"Yeah, but if you're not careful with the stud, you might lose the use of him for a while. Can't overwork a good stud, you know!"
"Okay. I'll be a good scout. I'll wait a whole fifteen minutes before I attack you."
"Thanks a lot!" he said, groaning. "Why didn't I realize long ago what a considerate doll you are?"
***This time the smell of hot wet pussy and the sounds of fucking had no effect on the white dog. An hour before his arrival at the cabin, he had come across a woman sunbathing in the nude down the beach.
The woman had been startled by his growl, and she had stood up fearfully.
He circled the woman, snarling every time that she looked like she was ready to run. His prey had tried to talk to him, using soothing words. But the gentleness in the tone of her voice didn't dissuade or diminish the urge that the odor of her cunt had sparked.
Tentatively, the woman bent over and slowly reached out for his fur. Her hands trembled as she slowly stroked the nape of his neck.