Louise, fascinated, did all she could to encompass his mighty prick. And Andrew, virile and God-like as he stood, arch-backed, away from her, drove on with the relentless, powerful strokes that were carrying him to the climax of his unnatural fuck.
Suddenly, on one forward, upward lunge against her chest, a splurge of white semen shot from the opened hole at the end of his prick, and after it another and still mightier discharge – two great gobs of snaking white-grey matter that sprang and splattered against Louise's throat.
Dementedly she seemed to grip at him with her breasts straining, and as he fucked furiously in his orgasm, more and more ejaculations spewed out, splashing against Louise's face, her throat, into her hair even. Greedily, where she could, she licked avidly at the discharge running down her chin, her cheeks, blinding her even in one eye, and lying like meerschaum over her throat.
And still Andrew fucked until the mass of his coming was spent and he could ejaculate no more. At least ten times his volcano had erupted its load forward and upward as he fucked away in an all consuming lust. Now he could erupt no more. Balls tight in their wrinkled scrotum, prick expanded to bursting point, he was finished. And he knew it. Yet he retained tenderness enough to whisper a fervent, heart wrung "thank you!" as he fell, sideways, exhausted, on to the bed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Louise and her husband looked at Andrew, utterly relaxed in exhaustion athwart the bed. Even in the defeat of fuck, he presented a pleasing sight as he lay there, sunburned and sinuous. But there was no longer any virility in him.
And they were roused, both of them, to the point where the plea for release was imploringly strong within them.
Louise's nipples were rigid brown nuts of desire, so hard that they puckered the brown areola out of which they swelled, hard and insistent, as the scrotum puckers in fuck. Hector's erected penis was again a throbbing monument of lust.
"My God!" he murmured. "I want you again, my beloved, more than I can contain…"
"And I you," she whispered hotly into his mouth. "I want your prick in me, Hector. I want to be swollen inside my womb with the volume of your come in me. Christ, I'm on fire inside, I swear to you. What a cock this Andrew has on him! What havoc he wreaks with it! Take me, Hector! Fuck me, I implore you! Slit me open from ass to cunt! Still this fucking desire that wracks me, quench it now and forever!"
Wildly, she reached for her husband's prick. Ignoring Andrew's prostrate, sweat-drenched body, she arched back over the bed. Writhing in her agony, she drew Hector's rod into her parted thighs and then, by some magic of contortion, slid down till it had left a wet trail right up her belly and between her come-bespattered titties and into her mouth. Getting it there, up to her snaking tongue, she received the salty taste of both her lovers, the sperm of one and the pre-coital juices of the other. And so she persisted, wriggling out of Hector's tight embrace again until she presented her opened, twitching twat to the penis once more. And so again. And again, running the length of her alabaster stomach against the agonized pleasure-pain of the tip of Hector's cock.
He could bear it no longer. Either he submitted to this orgiastic massage and left his wife unsatisfied, or he took part in the thing himself. Thus, when she next slid out of the clutching of his thighs, Hector rolled from on top of her, still ignoring the prostrate body of Andrew, groaning in memory beneath both of them.
"Give me this cunt!" he cried, inserting a thumb till it disappeared up to his wrist into the slavering, wet orifice. He quivered as he felt Louise's uninhibited reaction to the thing her twat had now captured. Furiously he slid his thumb into and out of her cunt, and Louise, surrendering completely to the ministrations of his hand, reached for the well remembered contours of Hector's penis with her own eager fingers.
Hector swiveled to kneel across his wife, now a maddened hex of a woman lying beneath him and at his side. Not for a moment did he cease tossing her off, gazing in sex-crazed gluttony at the sheer personality of the cunt in which his hand was frigging away. Louise, in her turn, frigged furiously away, to and fro, at the penis she was clutching… Great beads of spunk were hurled over the bed in their mutual masturbation. Hector's prick was shedding droplets of spunk. Louise, in her turn, was spilling frothy spume from the wetted hairs between her grinding, thrashing thighs. Her cunt, a thing in its own right, an entity, was actually reaching out to his ministering fingers, literally fucking away on its own. Her matted hair gleamed hotly beneath its foamy, flecked covering. And as she gave herself up to the agony of her orgasm, she felt the thicker, hotter spurts of Hector's semen jetting all over her palm.
Agonized, she, sought to deflect his ejaculation so that it might drench her body. One or two spurts jetted toward her face and, avidly, she licked at them, feeling herself being torn in two at the same time, with her clitoris seeking to burst out of its membranous container in the agony of her climax. She howled obscenities into the still of the room, seeming to spring out of her own loins at Hector's fingers, seeking to contain them or rip them from his hands so that her eager vagina could possess them completely, never to relinquish them. Her belly, her mammaries, her throat – all the splendid surf aces or her body were now covered by a foment of semen, and still she was tossing the final drops of Hector's discharge from the throbbing, painful, unendurable tip of his tool. In her agony, she suddenly wrenched free and took that prick into her mouth, seeking to suck what she could no longer cajole with her electric fingers from its rigid, swollen length.
Between husband and wife, it was the masturbatory coming of all time. Never had they been so stimulated before copulation. Never had their stimulation achieved so mighty or so perfect a response. The events of the past few days were so strong in their memory that they drowned out all thoughts of anything else save sex, come, fuck, cunt, cock, steaming sperm! Randy, swollen and satiated beyond human endurance, beyond capacity any longer to give or to receive satisfaction, all three of them lay there fuck-replete, cunt-gorged and even sick with sex!
Should somebody have come into that room then and seen them, it would have shocked them! Louise, sprawled naked and obscene, lay with her limbs lasciviously hurled in every direction, her thighs spread-eagled to maximum parting as if, in unconsciousness, she was seeking deliberately to cool off that gaping cylinder of bitch-heat within her loins. Her mammaries alone were magnificent, shining beneath their layer of male juices. Hector reclined, red-pricked from masturbation, his fiery penis now down to half its full size as his erection subsided. One hand lay across Andrew's body, cupping the spent, flaccid mass of prick and balls, yet feeling nothing of that once magnificent engine of destruction. Andrew sprawled idly, not feeling the weight of two bodies lying inert and weighty, across his own body. Just three human corpses, inert in the totality of collapse.
It was in this state that, hours later, in the advancing darkness of evening, Claudine found them. Each stirred as she came into the room. She switched on the light and drew up short, startled at the sight that met her eyes.
"My God!" she exclaimed as she took in the scene. "This? This I never expected to see! For heaven's sake!"
"Claudine?" said Hector, recovering consciousness. "What – I – what time is it?"