"Ummm, I love fucking you, darling," she purred, a dreamy smile on her lips.
"I love it when you shoot your hot, thick cum into my fuckhole. I can't get enough of it."
Tommy grinned sheepishly. His cock was starting to shrink and soften inside his mother's cunt. He knew that she wanted more because her fuckhole was rippling and sucking on his diminishing meat, trying to get him hard again but Tommy was finished for the moment. He had come in her mouth and in her cunt and- a fact that he bitterly regretted now-he had previously jerked himself off down by the stream. Potent as he was, the three dynamic comings had drained him. When he drew out of her, his limp prick flopped down and bounced on the floorboards. Catherine slid around and slipped her lips over his prick-knob, nursing skillfully, trying to get him stiff again. Despite her efforts, his cock continued to shrink. She sighed, knowing that she was being greedy, yet unable to help herself. The oversexed woman needed more cock and cum. Embarrassed by his lack of stamina, Tommy rolled away.
"We'll fuck and suck again soon, darling," his mother told him, looking forward to it. Soon-but not soon enough for her. Catherine had never been so horny in her life before. The more cock she got, the more she wanted. She had already, on this memorable day, sucked and fucked with her dog and her son but, instead of satiating her lust, her wanton and depraved actions had only made her want more. Her mind was aroused as much as her mouth and cunt. She got up and moved over to the corner, where the Alsatian was curled up, his big head resting on his front paws. She knelt beside him and began to fondle his cock. Rex opened one eye and gazed at her, his tongue lolling out. But his cock stayed soft and his balls were in a state of collapse. He arched his neck around and took a lazy lick at Catherine's frothy cunthole, but showed little enthusiasm. The doggy, like her son, had spent all the vitality in his loins. Insatiable Catherine had drained them both. She leaned down and slurped the dog's soft prick into her mouth, nursing hopefully, but to no avail. There was not an inch of stiff prick left in the cabin, nor a drop of jism. The woman sighed with frustration. She supposed that she could coax the dog-or the boy-into giving her some head and get her rocks off that way, but she wanted more than tongue now. What she wanted and needed was more hard prick. She wondered how soon her husband would be back. Getting fucked by her husband was not nearly as exciting as getting fucked by her dog or her son, of course, but Carson had a nice big prick and she would have welcomed his cock. She got up and moved to the window. There was no sign of the enthusiastic photographer. She looked back into the room. Rex was asleep again and Tommy was sprawled out, panting, his cock shrunk to a mere nubbin. Catherine stood there, sighing, cum and cunt-juice running down her legs. She couldn't wait. She decided that she would simply have to follow her husband down to the salt lick and insist that he throw a fuck into her on the spot.
It seemed a viable plan. The only thing was, unknown to Catherine, Carson had never reached the salt lick. His search for the elusive white stag had been interrupted in a very pleasant way.
CHAPTER 8
Leaving the cabin, Carson had cut through the woods and angled down to the stream, further along and down current from where his son was jerking off on the bank. Intent on seeking the stag, Carson failed to notice the thick globs of jism that flowed along, bobbling on the surface of the water, nor the open-mouthed catfish that nibbled at the stuff. He followed along a narrow trail, his camera ready, hoping to get a picture that might be published in
"Field and Stream." Although he had not had his customary fuck the night before, nor this morning, Carson, unlike his over-sexed wife, was not feeling at all horny. But that was a situation that was very soon going to be changed in a most dramatic fashion. He rounded a bend in the trail and halted. The trees ahead bent over the path on both sides, forming a leafy archway and through that archway a pony was trotting towards him. A young blonde girl was astride the pony, riding bareback. For an instant, Carson was puzzled, under the illusion that the girl had two heads. Then he realized that the pony was being ridden double and that the rider behind looked exactly like the one in front. Seeing the man blocking the trail, the lead rider drew back on the reins and the sturdy pony clattered to a halt a few yards from Carson. The pony snorted, twisting its neck from side to side and, from its back, the two girls smiled. The twin in back had her head forward so that she was cheek to cheek with her sister. The girls had short, curly, sunstreaked hair, wide set eyes, full, sensual mouths, and freckles scattered across their cheeks. Their eyes were green as the forest. Filtered sunlight dappled them. Carson noticed that the rider behind was clinging to the one in front and that her hands had shifted up so that she was cupping her identical sister's plump tits. His prick gave a little ripple at that sight. But Carson, who believed incest and lesbianism to be rare, supposed that the tit grip was accidental. Both girls wore very short cut-off jeans, the denim dragged up into the vee of their crotches. White cotton tee shirts molded their firm, thrusting tits. It was an erotic sight! Carson thought, those two sexy, perfectly identical young girls seated bareback astride the pony. But horseback riding was a good, clean, healthy sport, and the innocent fellow was ashamed of himself for seeing the girls as sex symbols. He stepped closer. The pony shied and nickered softly, tossing its head, its thick mane flowing. The beast's sturdy flanks and broad chest were frothy and lathered.
"Hi," the first twin said in a friendly fashion. "Sorry we almost rode you down, Mister. I didn't expect anyone to be walking out here this early in the day. We…" she turned to give her sister a meaningful wink "… we like our privacy."
Both girls giggled, surprising Carson. What was so funny about wanting privacy? He wondered.
"You a photographer?" the second twin asked, noticing Carson's expensive camera. "We like to have our pictures taken."
"Oh, well… I photograph animals in the wild," he replied.
"We're kind of wild," said the first girl.
"Errr… I was looking for the white stag that roams this forest," Carson explained, not wanting to get hooked into wasting film on human subjects or domestic ponies, although he had to admit that the sexy little sisters would make remarkable subjects. "I don't suppose you might have seen the beast?"
"Naw," the first twin said. Then she added, "I'm Molly and this is my twin sister,
Wanda."
"Errr… Carson Smith."
Carson was disturbed by the presence of these nubile, giggling girls. His cock was starting to pulse and swell alarmingly and he was terrified that the girls might notice the mobile lump in his trousers. How embarrassing for a middle-aged gentleman to become sexually excited by teenage girls! They were both giving him impish looks, as if maybe they were aware of his discomfort. He noticed that, although the pony was standing steady, the girls were sliding and squirming on the beast's broad back.
"Well, nice to have met you," he said, anxious to be off, thinking that maybe when he fucked his wife later that day, he would fantasize about these twin nymphettes. He stepped forward, turning sideways so that he could slip by them on the narrow trail. As he drew abreast of the mounted pony, Carson noticed a very interesting thing. The girl behind was still holding her sister's plump titties and her hands were moving, fondling those thrusting mounds. At the same time she was arching her back and rubbing her own tits against her sister. His eyes flickered lower. The girl in back had her belly thrust out, her crotch tight against her sister's shapely little ass. And, most exciting of all, the narrow crotch bands of both the girl's shorts were dark and damp!