The tip was frothy again.
Marlene laid her chin against her breastbone and, as his cockhead came squeezing out from her cleavage, she laved it with her nimble tongue, lapping up the delicious cream.
His cockhead was ballooning. She knew that he was going to shoot very soon.
She figured it was about time to get that big pecker stuffed up her slippery cunt.
She rose up slowly and moved her knees toward the chair, one on either side of his hips so that she was straddling him. His cock was pressed into her soft belly, indenting the flesh from the outside just as it would soon be from within. His balls were jammed against ha crotch and his big knob stretched all the way up her belly. It thrilled her to realize how deep it would fill her pussy when he was inside her cunt.
Her thighs tightened.
She rose up high and his peckerhead slipped into her creamy pussy. She perched on the tip for a moment like a flagpole sitter, with her cuntlips pulling on his meaty slab. Then she slowly settled down onto his prick, taking it inch by inch up her steaming hole.
She settled down until every inch of his cockmeat was buried up her pussy.
Linked to the hilt, they smiled contentedly at each other as she knelt over him.
Then Marlene began to go up and down on his cock and Charles fucked up from the chair, moving in counterpoint. As she lowered her smoldering cunt onto him, he pushed up into her; as she rose on trembling thighs, he sank back.
Her cunt clutched him like a tight-fitting glove the muscles dragging at his prick. She twisted her pelvis from side to side, adding torque to the vertical friction.
Her pussy was foaming, the cream running down the crease of her thighs and onto his balls. His heels drummed on the floor and he arched his back further, so that his pecker rose up high, the full length entering her. Then she threw her head and shoulders back, her lithe torso bending with lust. Her belly slid against his. Her knees embraced his flanks and she used his cock like a crank against her cunt, a crowbar with which to pry the climax from her cunt.
She began to whimper.
Charles had been holding back as best he could. Now, seeing that his wife was about ready to cream, he began to plow into her cunt, timing it so they could come together. His fat stalk slammed upward like a rocket.
"Come!" she cried. Then: "I'm coming, darling… came with me… shoot it up my cunt!"
Charles groaned and his cock went off like a geyser, blowing his led into her womb with such power that her slender hips were rattled by the spurt. He hosed her pussy down with load after load, his dick working like a fire extinguisher, as if to quell the flames of her cunt with his heavy foam.
Her cunt creamed on his cock as his jism played the catalyst, changing her cunt to juice.
Marlene went up and down jerkily, torn by the spasms of her cunt. Charles groaned as he darted his cum into her and emptied his balls to the dregs.
Then she pressed herself to him and, still coupled at the crotch they kissed lovingly.
She really did love him. If only she hadn't lusted for young boys.
But she had.
CHAPTER FIVE
Charles had been turned on by photography for a long time, but he had kept his kinky desires secret from his wife, just as she had kept her passion for young boys secret from Charles. Charles was slightly embarrassed by his turn-on – not that it was shameful in itself but because of the way that his fetish for film had begun.
Unlike Marlene's lust for youth, which had grown gradually over the years and which she had never really tried to find a psychological reason for, Charles knew perfectly well why he got turned on by taking pictures of naked women. He could place it to the minute.
Charles had been a teenager and a virgin – but a horny virgin. He jacked off with regularity. Whenever he found himself alone for five minutes, he pulled his cock. Bedrooms, bathrooms, closets – they were all the same to randy young Charles – give him a place to stand and he would produce his cock and move his dream world. At school he whacked off in the lavatory, the locker room, the cloakroom. In history class, where his desk was at the very back of the room, he pulled his prick under his desk.
Once, during a blackout, he came in the corridor. He poured out cum by the bucketful and the more he spilled the more his potent young balls seemed to produce, as if operating on the law of supply and demand that he had learned in economics class while shooting a creamy wad into a copy of Adam Smith.
In those days, his masturbation fantasies had no direction. His tastes were all-encompassing and comprehensive. Sometimes he thought about girls he knew, sometimes film stars or characters in comic books.
He liked to look at dirty pictures, of course, and did so at every opportunity, but at that time they had not assumed any great importance in his carnal category. He would much rather have looked at a flesh-and-blood girl than a photograph.
Two girls had allowed him to feel their tits, one inside the training bra she wore. One other girl had once rubbed his dick through his jeans so that he'd come in his pants. That was the extent of his experience.
Then he discovered that his father had a collection of naughty photographs.
He had discovered that one day when he had come home from school early and entered quietly, because he wanted to sneak straight up to his bedroom for a pull without having to pause for a conversation with his parents.
His route took him past his parents' bedroom.
The door was ajar and he glanced in, feeling guilty because he was en route to a hand job – and then he blinked and saw that there was, no reason for him to feel guilty at all, unless his father was equally, guilty, for that gentleman was stretched out on the bed with his fat cock in one hand and a cluster of photos in the other.
He had the photos spread out like a hand of cards and he was studying them intently, his eyes shifting back and forth along the line.
His other hand went up and down his cock. Amazed and intrigued, Charles crouched in the hallway and peered around the doorjamb.
Then his mother walked into the bedroom from the attached bathroom.
Oh, boy! Dad's in trouble now, thought Charles. From the perspective of his own station in life, he supposed that getting caught masturbating was always shameful.
Then he was even more amazed.
His mother was stark naked, glistening from the shower – and she was smiling!
Charles gasped.
His mother lay down beside his father.
"Here, let me do that," she, said.
The man took his hand off his prick and the woman put her hand on it and began pumping it steadily up and down.
Charles thought he was going to faint. That may have been from shock or it may have been because so much blood had suddenly rushed into his cock that his brain was starved for oxygen, for the sight had given him an instant hard-on.
Having a free hand now, his father cupped his mother's cunt and began to caress that hairy slot.
And they looked at the photographs together!
"I like this one best," the man said.
"Ummm… that is a nice one."
"This is a pretty sexy one, too."
"You're a very good photographer," she said.
"Well, I had an interesting subject."
Charles was getting shock after stunning shock. From that conversation he deduced that these were no commercial dirty pictures, but that his father had been behind the camera. He realized they were Polaroid pictures.
His parents were depraved!
Charles felt quite proud of them.
They lay shoulder to shoulder, masturbating one another as they studied the photographs and Charles, kneeling in the hallway, simply had to produce his own prick. He began to pump it up and down to the same tempo with which his mother was stroking his father's dick, emulating her rhythm – the child learning from the parents.