Then the magnificent cock head withdrew, and with it, the unholy pleasure ceased.
Chapter 5
Trudy reveled in the incandescent, downy, elegant satisfaction of being thoroughly fucked. The hideous, terrible carnal demon that had possessed her mind and body these past minutes was finally slain and put to rest.
"Did you like that, sis?" Tom was resting beside her, trying to catch his breath. Trudy nodded, then felt the most terrible black guilt she had ever experienced. Mother of Jesus! She had screwed her own brother! What in heaven's name had possessed her?
"Wait until I rest some," Tom said, "and we'll do it some more."
"Ohhh," Trudy moaned from the anguish in her heart, and rolled off the bed and began donning her clothes. She didn't look at Tom. She couldn't, she was too ashamed.
"Hey!" Tom was startled. "Where are you going? It won't be a moment. I recoup fast. Whatcha doing?"
"I've got to go," Trudy stammered. "Hank might be waiting. He should be done by now."
"Nawww," Tom said. "Come on, there's no hurry. I've screwed mom. She can milk you for an hour and a half without you cumming. Hey!"
Trudy ran from the room. Tom had fucked their mother. Dear God, what kind of a family was this? But how could she talk? She had just screwed her own brother! God! What was next? Was she really a nympho? Was her mother right? Was she really like her mother? No, by God, she answered her own question. She didn't know why what had happened, had happened, but by God, it would damn sure never happen again. Never! She could control her desires.
She went downstairs and wandered around a bit more before Hank, looking flushed but happy in his achievements, bounced down the stairs.
"I can do it!" He hugged Trudy and danced her around the living room. "I know how, now. I can do it! Oh boy. Oh boy!"
Trudy got him away from the house before Tom came downstairs and ran off at the mouth. Hank preened and crowed all the way home as to how he was going to make her beg him to quit, but later, in bed, she begged off with a headache. Hank didn't seem to mind.
"okay," he said, "I'll catch you in the morning, but set the alarm an hour earlier."
Trudy wrestled with the quilt until Hank rolled in his sleep and his warm arms and legs encircled her body and twinged a spark of desire in her belly. Then the blackness of her incest turned to gray, and the gray to an off-white. After all, what had she done that was so terrible? So she had screwed her brother. Big deal! Hadn't her husband screwed Grace? Tit for tat, sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, and all of that stuff. The old sayings were right. She nudged Hank awake and offered her hot lips.
"Make me beg you to quit," she husked. "Give me your beautiful cock."
Hank's eight-inch prick was a disappointment after Tom's enormous prong. Still, he had mastered his quick cumming and was delighting her gluttonous, raging cunt with salacious, short in, pull out, deep in, pull out, short in, pull out steady strokes. At the same time his fiery insistent lips were sucking and nibbling on one of her submissive, yet lascivious breasts. He was sparking captivating, delicious waves of erotic glee throughout her body. It was good! Oh my yes, it was good!
She hunched and helped him ram it deeper into her craving hole. She even splayed her vibrant, satin legs as wide as possible and tipped her cooze to allow their pubes to mesh and grind on the down stroke, but Hank's god damn prick just wasn't reaching her awful itch. Then she remembered Chuck and his magic thumb.
"Put your hands back on my ass, honey," she breathed in his ear, "and squeeze them."
Hank did and it was better. His strong fingers were clutching and grinding at her thrashing, heaving ass hillocks, his scorching lips and sharp teeth were nibbling and biting on one of her erect, pulsating nipples and his iron-flaming horn was pistoning in and out of her love-juice oozing, insatiable, flogging pussy.
"Oohh!" She mini-came. "Oh! Oh!" And she climbed up the slopes of the glorious fuck mountain to the orgasmic apex. "Here. Here!" She reached down and grabbed his hand and set one finger on her quivering, wanting anal entrance. "Put it in me! Put it in me!"
Hank's hard scraping nailed digit popped past her tight ass sphincter, and Trudy went wild.
Hank loved the feel of his wife's tight, grasping, hot, moist ass-hole. It was gloriously, satin soft and squeezed at his finger like a pussy. That was it. That's what it felt like. It felt like he was finger fucking a cunt at the same time he was screwing. And did it ever turn his lovely wife on! He coordinated his finger with the downward strokes of his cock and when he was balls-deep in her, he could actually rub through the thin skin wall and feel his throbbing prick nesting and soaking in her raging, ravenous ravine. The goodness bounced and jingled in his nuts, hardening, lengthening and fattening his prong with luxurious, erogenous, majestic ripples of volatile lust. Good God! He was going to cum!
"Hit me!" he told Trudy. "Slap my face!" And he squeezed down on his ass-cheeks for his new found control.
Trudy was almost at the crest of the intense, glorious, erogenous orgasm and couldn't stop. Hank's glowing flagellum didn't quite reach the centre of her most ecstatic, insatiable orgasm plethora but it was so close! So God awful near that she couldn't have him stop the tremendous, lustful staccato. She squeezed with her perspiring satin thighs and hunch-fucked her salacious, insistent pussy up and down, over his volatile, rock-hard prick.
"No!" Hank strained, then gave in to the shimmering, raging, luxurious spasms of carnal ecstasy and surrendered to the jolts and cum spurts of ecstatic joy. "Oooohhhhh sshhitttt!" He quivered and released his boiling hot load.
The raging, torrid jism splashed into Trudy's glutinous furnace and sent electric bolts of erotic splendour ricocheting throughout her body. But! But, she didn't peak! Her deep inner cravings amplified but did not release. Oh shit! Shit! She bucked up and down against Hank's embedded spigot in desperation for the heavenly mind-blowing release. But it didn't come! It didn't come.
"Oh shit, God damn, but that was good!" Hank released his full weight on her fervent, craving, unfulfilled body and gasped for breath. "Did you like it, honey? Was that better?"
Trudy was tempted to tell him the truth. For one insane, awful moment the bitterness was on her tongue, but she choked it back and went into her act to save his ego. "Yes! Oh yes! That was wonderful, just wonderful." But she felt like crying.
Trudy was still awake when the alarm went off in the morning. The growling, snapping, demanding ache so deep in her womb hadn't allowed her to sleep. She reached out as Hank stood by the bed, stretching, and gave his prick a gentle tug.
"Do you have the time, big boy?" She grinned invitingly.
Hank smiled. "I gave you enough for now, you vixen. Now fix me some eggs and toast so I have enough strength to get through my Sunday golf game." He went into the bathroom to take his shower. Shit and double shit! Him and his god damn weekend golf!
It was a terribly long morning for Trudy. She wandered through the brand-new condominium that Hank had bought her and tried to get her mind off the craving, aching discomfort that nestled so deep in her groin. But what was there to do? Hank had bought everything new. There was nothing to clean, nothing to polish, nothing to redo or fix.
She emptied the dishwasher and cleaned off the sink. She did a small wash, then folded and put the clothes away after the dryer had done its bit. The living room was spotless. The stairway to the bedrooms upstairs was vacuumed. Their bedroom off the main bedroom was shiny clean. Trudy killed a half-hour rearranging her vanity, then stood looking out the upstairs bedroom window in frustrating boredom. Wait! What in the world was that?