Robert drew back, surprised. Her nipple popped from his lips like a cork from a bottle.
"Does Joanne do things like that?" he asked.
"Well, she had no choice."
"Maybe I'd better have a word with that young man."
"Oh, I don't think she minded very much. After all, she is eighteen – old enough for that, if nothing more."
The knowledge that his sexy young daughter had jerked a boy off had a desirable effect on Robert. His prick snapped upright and tightened it was so taut that it began to tingle. For a long moment, they looked at each other, both of them thinking about Joanne with a handful of cum-spurting prick. Then Robert grinned and lowered his head to Catherine's plump tit once more.
Is he pretending it's Joanne's tit? she wondered. But, she didn't mind.
It only served to make her hotter, hinting as it did of naughty, incestuous inclinations. She rubbed her tits against him and fondled her fist around the root of his cock, holding him but not moving, not wanting to risk having him came in her hand – when her pussy was burning for that huge hunk of cockmeat.
She smiled impishly. "Did you have a nice dream last night, darling? A nice, wet dream?"
He looked up, his mouth still working on her tit.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"I sucked you off while you were asleep," she said. "I finger-fucked myself and sucked your big prick until you came."
"How very thoughtful of you," Robert said.
Catherine was really and truly getting in the mood now. Her imagination had worked her up to the heights.
"While I was blowing you, I was pretending that you were Joanne's boyfriend, darling – I was making believe that I was sucking off a teenaged boy…"
"Slut!" he said, but he didn't mind at all. "And then I made believe that it was you – and I was Joanne!" she went on. "I pretended I was sucking my father off."
Robert made a strangled, gasping sound as that erotic confession registered. His cock began to throb. He had often, had such incestuous thoughts, himself – not seriously considering it, but enjoying the erotic fantasy – and realizing that his wife shared those ideas filled him with wild lust. It was evident from the way his prick was pounding away like a jackhammer in her hand.
"You'd like Joanne to suck your cock, wouldn't you?" Catherine said, her voice husky with desire.
"I-I don't know…"
"I wouldn't mind, darling. I'd-I'd like to watch!"
Of course, this is merely pillow talk, Catherine thought. They weren't at all serious about such a wicked, depraved thing. Or were they?
Catherine could wait no longer.
Her steaming cunt was desperate to get fucked, her sexual nature abhorring the vacuum of an empty pussy. She drew away. Robert's lips continued to suck for a moment, even after her nipple had been withdrawn.
She pushed him down onto his back and rose onto her knees, throwing one thigh across his belly and straddling him. Robert settled back, quite happy to let her take the initiative and the dominant position, to enjoy having her ride his cock to a conclusion.
She began to rub the head of his cock against her flooded pussy gash, using his prickhead like a spoon to stir the creamy bowl of her cunt. She was trembling and panting.
He moaned softly, his eyes closing. Cunt juice was flowing from her pussy and running down his prick. He pushed up from the bed, wanting to bury his cock in that sweet, hot fuck-hole. The cocktip slipped in.
Catherine whimpered, her slim body vibrating.
Then she slowly lowered her pussy down onto his prick, feeding the big cockrod into her cunt inch by inch.
She sank down all the way.
His massive cock filled her loins and belly and his balls were jammed against her crotch. Her cunt lips plastered themselves against his belly like a suction cup. The two fuckers seemed to be glued together by sticky cunt juice, her pussy melting on his prick like a wax candle around a hot poker.
She held that full penetration, for a long moment, thrilling to the joy of having her cunt stuffed full of hard prick, and letting him savor the pleasure of having every inch of his gigantic cock buried in her pussy.
Then she began to ride his cock.
Her sleek thighs tensed as she rose up. She corkscrewed her hips. Her cunt pulled and dragged on his prick, sucking and slurping like a mouth. Her talented curd muscles began to frolic on his prick, closing in a series of concentric rings that tightened her fuck-hole around his cock and molded her inner pussy to his big plunger through every precious inch of his cocklance.
Her fat tits swayed as she gyrated and her trim, teardrop-shaped ass undulated as she ground her cunt down onto his prick. Her face was contorted by passion, eyes narrowed, lips slack, pink tongue running back and forth across her mouth. Catherine gave herself totally to lust and it registered on her face as a mask of lewd desire.
She moaned softly and punctuated the steady sound with little short, sharp gasps. She worked steadily, rising and falling. As his fat cock emerged from her fuck-hole, thick streamers of cunt juice poured down his cockshaft and pooled on his bloated balls. Then she went down again and his thick cock vanished to the hilt in her creamy cunt slot.
Robert arched under her.
He wasn't fucking up to meet her. He held his body stiff, a bridge on which she could set the tempo to suit herself. He reached up to massage her tits as they swayed above him. He stroked her flanks. He gripped her by her hipbones, then cupped her writhing ass. He finger-fucked her asshole and then dipped his hand in between their churning bellies and began to rub her clit.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Oooooh!"
She was soaring towards the peak.
Waves of sensation coursed laterally across her belly and loins and electric currents of lust ran up her thighs, crashing together in her pussy. Her cunt had started to cream. Her pussy was melting in the heat of orgasm.
"I'm coming!" she wailed.
Robert knew that.
He could feel her pussy melting. He fucked up from the bed. Then, driving his giant prick in as far as it would go, he came.
His rising geyser of cum blasted into her cunt with such force that it tilted her ass and almost blew her right off the end of his cock. It felt as if she had been standing astride Old Faithful when his prick erupted.
She wailed with joy as she felt all that hot, thick jism streaming into her pussy and she kept grinding away, working off her own orgasm to the dregs and milking his prick dry.
It had been a wonderful fuck.
Catherine thought so.
Robert thought so.
And Joanne, looking through the keyhole, thought so, too.
CHAPTER FOUR
As soon as she had told her mother about the sexual demands that Johnny Watson had made, Joanne regretted it. She had told the truth, but that was not the point.
The point was, she had enjoyed jacking the boy off.
Oh, she had been reluctant, at first. She was not a sexually experienced girl and she had resisted when he first tried to feel her pussy and, again, when he had asked her to handle his prick.
But she had been able to justify it, to rationalize it.
He had told her that if she wouldn't jerk him off, at least, he would make her walk home. Joanne had reasoned that it would be a long, cold, lonely walk home. It might well be risky, too – a girl all alone on a dark country road. Why, there was no telling what might happen to her, what dangers might be lurking in the fields and forests, that bordered the road, or in the cars that traveled along it in the dark of night. There might be rapists galore, sex maniacs in abundance, perverted friends in droves. She could see that Johnny was serious, that he meant what he said.
And after all, it was only a hand-job. It wasn't as if she had to fuck him or suck him off, or do anything really naughty. So she had agreed.