"Deep Crotch Mother" - читать интересную книгу автора (Aldrich Curt)CHAPTER THREEMarcella arose when the first light of morning flooded into the room. Her children were still sound asleep, and she shut the drape on the window so that the light wouldn’t disturb them. Wrapping a robe around her nakedness, she went to the bathroom across the hall and relieved herself. Then she brushed her teeth and combed her auburn hair, which tumbled in glistening waves around her shoulders. Floyd and his wife were having breakfast when she walked to the kitchen. “Hmph!” was all the plump, dowdy, gray-haired woman said in response to Marcella’s cheery greeting, and she got up from the table to march out of the room. “I guess your wife resents my being here,” Marcella observed sadly to the farmer, who was stuffing eggs and fried potatoes into his mouth. “Don’t pay no mind to her,” he replied, and wiped his lips on a napkin as he stared at the enticing swells in the front of Marcella’s robe. “Well, I would feel better about everything if she liked me.” “You just concentrate on makin’ me like you, honey,” Floyd said, and reached for her. His arm looped around her middle and he drew her close to his chair. His bony fingers parted the edges of her robe, spilling out her lush, rosy-nip-pled breasts. She had to hold onto the temporary home which the Lord had provided for herself and her children. That was part of His plan. And so she let the farmer clutch and lift one of her large, squidgy tits, directing its nipple to his lips. He groaned and fastened his hungry mouth around her inviting spigot. He sucked much more strongly than Timmy had done. “Unnnnnnh… “ Marcella breathed, annoyed because the farmer was so demanding but she couldn’t help enjoying the feel of his tugging lips and lapping tongue. His hand rolled her other breast and roughly bounced it up and down. “Mr. Wilcox, it’s… uh… early in the morning!” she said plaintively. “I woke up with a hard-on!” he panted after pulling his mouth from her breast. “I couldn’t think about nothin’ else but you!” He pulled Marcella’s robe open all the way down, and he stared at her auburn muff. Groaning again, he bowed his shaggy gray head, driving his face into the abundant hairy triangle at the base of her belly. Marcella thought about his wife, who had gone back to the bedroom but might return at any moment. However, if the Lord required that Marcella submit to the woman’s husband, in order to have a place for herself and her children to stay, she was prepared to do so. Sometimes adultery was permitted, the leader of her church had taught her, and this seemed to be one of the times when the Lord was telling her it was all right. She spread her legs and squatted slightly, making her warm, soft-lipped cunt accessible to Floyd’s demanding mouth. He plunged his tongue into the meaty feast she offered, obviously preferring it to the eggs and bacon on his plate. “Ooooooh!” Marcella breathed heavily, and worked her hips in a circle while still squatting. Floyd’s tongue reamed her elastic orifice and drew into his mouth the highly flavorful produce of several days’ sexual stimulation. The middle-aged farmer got carried away, and he clutched the plump cheeks of Marcella’s ass, his hands underneath her robe. He yanked hard on her spongy pillows and squeezed them, crushing her plushy, moist snatch against his mouth. He shamelessly sucked and tongued her tangy-tasting cunt. Marcella began bumping uncontrollably, her bare knockers bobbling up and down. She panted. Her spread-legged, bent-kneed pose was getting uncomfortable, and she wished that Floyd would sit her on the table. But either he didn’t think of that or he didn’t want to interrupt his eating for even a moment. Marcella settled more and more into his hands as he held the cheeks of her ass. His fingertips were between the spread, satiny mounds, tickling very close to her anus. Marcella thought of how he had stuck a finger right up her asshole while they were out on the road, and she kind of wished he would do that again. But in the meantime, his tongue in her cunny felt very good. (The Lord had never told her she should dislike what she did at His direction.) Floyd rotated his hoary head, his hair tickling the inner surfaces of her smooth thighs. But she hardly noticed that, because of the wild things his tongue was doing in her cunt. No man had ever eaten her quite so well or so thoroughly or had seemed to enjoy the feast quite so much. Just when she thought Floyd was through plunging his tongue deeply into her snatch and slurping the rich juices out, because he had withdrawn his tongue and was wiggling it through the lippy folds that surrounded her fuckhole, he drove it back up her channel, causing her to yelp with joy. Then out he went once more to lick through the curly hairs that covered her large lovelips. He found her stiff, tingling clitty and poked his tongue flutteringly at that. Again Marcella squealed. Now he sank his oral probe up her steamy twat once more. “Ooooooh… God in HEAV-eeennnn!” she panted, clutching Floyd by the head. “What are you doooooo-ing to meeee?!” She bumped her cunt fuckingly against the man’s face until she felt that if he didn’t let her set her ass on something solid she would collapse. Floyd didn’t, and she did. Her big bottom slipped from his hands and landed on the linoleum floor with a smack! “Hellfire!” he cried, and leaped to his feet, overturning his chair. Marcella stared at the high-standing peak in his overalls, which was right in front of her eyes. Hex brain went into a dizzy swirl. She wanted to free the farmer’s long, stiff love maker, which she had masturbated to a spurting climax yesterday-but she didn’t like the idea of having the thing rammed into her mouth, which was what she was afraid he might do, considering the position she was in. Sucking her son’s little cockie was pleasurable, because it had a nice, delicate taste and wasn’t big enough to hurt her throat. But the large, thrusting bones of grown men tasted much stronger, she had learned, and she got scared sometimes when they stuck them into her mouth. Also, she did have some pride, and the Lord had never come right out and told her that she had to suck cock! Her hesitation obviously frustrated Floyd, and he clawed at his fly, ripping down the zipper. “No!” she cried, and tried to struggle to her feet, her titties shaking. But Floyd pushed on the top of her head with one hand while he liberated his love tool with the other, and his eight-inch rod leaped out to stand quiveringly in front of her face. He clutched the blue-veined shaft and rolled back his foreskin, causing his lurid cock-knob to bulge while giving off a raunchy aroma. Marcella’s eyes rolled. Her mouth went slack. She knew she was going to get fucked in the mouth whether she wanted it or not. But Floyd didn’t push his prick right between her sensuous lips and start humping as she had feared he would do. First he played another little game: Holding Marcella by the top of her head, with his fingers spread wide apart, he squinched her down to provide a better alignment. Then, gripping his tallywhacker in his other hand, he slapped the bulb-ended truncheon back and forth across her face, literally clubbing her with the wild-smelling thing. She bleated in humiliation as his cock struck her cheeks and rubbed across her face, right underneath her flared nostrils. Gusts of cock-scent rose steamily up her nose, making her brain giddier than ever. “Aaaaaaw… nooooh… yessss… oooh, give it to me!” she panted. Floyd pushed down on his springy rod and shoved it at her mouth. By then she was ready, and she spread her lips into a wide, juicy O. When the farmer sank his raunchy cock deep into her mouth, she glugged. Her lips tightened around his hard column, and her tongue made a velvet cradle for his cockhead as her throat flared open. Her eyes were shut. Her entire body throbbed. Floyd began to fuck his cock slowly in and out of the church-woman’s pretty face, and she responded by sucking heatedly on his randy-flavored bone. She gulped down a mixture of her own saliva and his sex-juice. Just then Floyd’s frumpy wife appeared in the kitchen door. “Well, I never…!” she exclaimed, staring at the obscene sight. “I know it, you prudish old hen!” her husband rasped. “Whenever I wanted this kind of love, I had to buy it. But I’m gettin’ it for free now, and it’s goddamn good!” He drove his hips, plunging his prick more deeply into Marcella’s mouth… and into her clasping throat, as well! She shifted her eyes sideways to look at the farmer’s wife, then shut them in shame. If the Lord was with her at that moment, she didn’t hear His voice or feel His presence. All she felt was the big, bulb-ended pecker that rammed into her throat and held her lips wide apart as its veined, ridgy hardness stroked steadily between them… tickling and teasing her… turning her on, against her will. She sucked gulpingly on the farmer’s cock, her cheeks flushed, her eyes remaining shut. She hunched against his rhythmic but not vicious plunges, and she found that her throat could accommodate his cockhead quite well. Sarah watched for several shocked moments, through eyes that were wide open, then she turned and rushed back to the bedroom, sobbing in self-pity over the way her husband of thirty years was “defiling” their home. He seemed unconcerned about her attitude, concentrating on the pleasure which Marcella lavished on his prick. “Lick it now!” he told her and pulled his gleaming plunger from her mouth with a lurid popping sound. It was jammed straight up in front of her face as he yanked her close to him, her moist lips smacking the underside of his shaft near the base. He reached into his overalls and brought his hairy balls tumbling out against her chin. By that time she was as sensuously involved as he, and of her own accord she began to lick his velvety, big brown nuts, picking up a sharp tang of perspiration. He shoved down not too roughly on the top of her head, and her tongue dipped beneath his dangling gonads. As she ricked him down there, his balls straddled her nose. Breathing in the super-raunchy aroma of his sweaty crotch had the strange effect of turning her on all the stronger, and she opened her wet mouth to take in a testicle. As she let his throbby nut soak in her mouth, she rolled her eyes upward to study in response. The farmer had his eyes closed, and his mouth was agape. His upthrust prick waggled like a semaphore across her forehead. Marcella spit out his nut, licked his velvety sac some more, plastering down some of the wispy hairs that curled around it, then warmly swabbed her tongue up the underside of his cock until she reached the plump, flavorful head. She licked around the groove behind his cock’s ridgy collar, then covered the plumlike knob, thoroughly re-coating it with her wet, gleaming saliva. Her darting tongue took up some clear honey that oozed from the slit at the tip of his organ. “Aaaaahhhhhngh!” she said, clasping his plump peckerhead in her hot mouth to suck some more. She bobbed forward and back, entirely of her own accord, eagerly fellating him. “Aaaaw, hellfire…!” Floyd croaked. “I’ve gotta fuck you!” Yes! Oh, yes! she thought. Please fuck me! Fuck me good! I haven’t had a real good fucking in a long time, and I need it-even from an old codger like you! PRAISE THE LORD! She let his big prick snap free, and it swayed to and fro as he grasped her underneath the arms and lifted. Her head lolled, like that of a Raggedy Ann, and her legs felt rubbery when she put her weight on them. Floyd stripped the open robe off her arms, her lush breasts bobbling, and he shoved her backward onto the kitchen table. She sat in the middle of his breakfast, his eggs and potatoes squishing into the crack of her ass. The plate had tipped, but fortunately it didn’t break under her weight, and she reached behind her to yank it free and slide it across the table. Floyd pulled her legs wide apart and jerked them forward a little, so that her buttocks were perched on the edge of the table. This puckered her cunt, and there it was, staring at him-a wet rosy hole surrounded by a thick fringe of dark hair. He grasped his cock and moved up to her, into the fleshy V of her thighs. His bulbous cockhead socked into the circle of her cuntmouth, spreading it, and Marcella moaned. Her cuntflesh crept claspingly forward to embrace the fullness of his knob. “Uuuuh!” she said as the rim of her vaginal mouth settled into the groove behind his glans, and his bulb throbbed inside her. “Ooooooohh!” she breathed heatedly as he shoved his cock deeper, sinking it inch-by-inch into her fervid flesh until her vagina claimed his horny length and she was plugged from clitoris to womb! “Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me… “ she panted, half under her breath, sounding not at all like a church-woman. But as Floyd began to stroke his thick, long cock in and out of her, the Divine voice seemed to speak and tell her it was all right. It was the Lord’s power moving in her, she convinced herself. She raised her legs at either side of the skinny, middle-aged farmer, bending them so that her bare feet swayed forward and back as she hunched heatedly. She clutched Floyd around his scrawny neck, because he wasn’t supporting her back. Instead, his hands were full of her boobies, squeezing and rolling the resilient masses of smooth, nipple-studded titflesh. He stroked forward and back, steadily and long, gliding his cockhead from her cunt’s mouth to the deepest part of her vagina. His jolts shook her titties in his hands. His hard shaft rubbed her clit-tip exactly right. “Ooooh Goddd… oooh, glory!” she said fucking fervently with him. He thumbed her bristling nipples, making them tingle wildly as they snapped free. They swelled so ruddy full of warm blood that they looked and felt as if they were about to burst. The farmer kept pumping his lengthy hard-on in and out of her cunt, still moving deliberately so that the strokes stropped her hot clit to a fare-thee-well, while not giving her the rapid stimulation she would need in order to get her rocks off. She moaned and wriggled, kicking her legs. Her ass felt sticky from the eggs and potatoes, which by that time had been ground into a mush. “Oooooh, fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck me, you old fool!” she cried, and the farmer loved it. She lasciviously imagined his wife listening from down the hall. Floyd’s big prick felt better and better, ramming deep into her wet vagina, its ridge and veins rippling her clasping cuntflesh. She hooked her legs behind him so that she could hold on with them as well as with her arms about his neck, and this let her bounce her fleshy asscheeks right on the table’s edge, without fear of falling. The man had magnificent endurance, something she had discovered with other older men, and she luxuriated in his ramming thrusts of passion. She hoped the luscious fucking would last all day. But Floyd wasn’t that good a stud. He was already nearing the point where he would have to go for his payoff. Thinking about what had happened yesterday, he wanted something more before he finished with this woman-something really rare and thrilling. He didn’t know if he would have another chance with the buxom female or not. He pulled out of her sucking, clutching cunt, and his cock flipped straight up. “Ooooh God…noooh!” she cried. “Put it back innnn!” Floyd’s answer was to give her flopping legs a twist, and she rolled roughly onto her face on the table, her tits and tummy smearing through his spilled breakfast. “Oooooh!” she moaned, writhing, her big asscheeks quivering before him. She was a mess back there, and he snatched up his napkin to rub it through the crack of her ass, wiping the eggs and potatoes away so that he could see the little gathering of brownish puckers that marked the spot where he had stuck his finger the day before. “Oooooh, oooooh, please… yes… doooo it!” she panted, thinking he was going to ram her throbbing cunt from the rear. But he had something more exotic and even more stimulating in mind as he directed his cum-coated, rigid pecker to the small depression between her wobbly buttocks. When Marcella felt his cock-tip touch the dimple of her ass, she caught her breath. Not that! she thought. Oh, God, I’ve never had it there! A finger was all right-even fun-but a big, thick prick rammed up her anus was bound to hurt! However, Floyd was not about to be stopped. Throbbing with a greater lust than he had known in years, the horny farmer twisted his slippery cockhead against her crinkly nest of puckers and pushed forward. She bawled with pain as her asshole was forced to spread-wide, wide, wider than it had ever been stretched before. The man’s cock was so slippery, and he was pushing with such determination, that he quickly achieved a penetration of her rear. The taut elastic rim of her anus felt as if it was about to pop as it skiddingly encircled the fattest part of his cockhead. Her asshole burned like a ring of fire. Then Floyd’s knob was IN her, settled snugly and hotly inside her lush ass, and her rubber rim was allowed to relax just a trifle. This lessened the painful pressure right there, and she focused on the fullness in her rectum. What a feeling that was! It was as if a flagpole, with a huge, bulging knob on the end of it, was being forced up her backside. “Ooooh… aaaah! Pleeease! Ooooh, GODDD!” the impaled woman cried. But Floyd didn’t stop pushing, and his cock sank twistingly, inch by relentless inch, into her superheated, hotly clasping ass until she had at least four rigid inches sticking up inside her… the wrong way. She bawled, the tears streaming down her cheeks, as Floyd began to stroke, fucking her virgin ass with gusto. He didn’t push too deeply. He didn’t have to, because he was getting the thrill he wanted as her grippingly tight and slippery asshole rippled up and down across the ridge of his cockhead and along two inches of his veined, rigid shaft. He yanked her squidgy buttocks wide apart and watched her rosy rear-ring claim his penetrating thrusts, folding outward as he withdrew and turning inward with each plunge. He let her buttocks slap against his pole, and enjoyed the sight of his poontanger sinking rhythmically between her vibrating, creamy, curved asscheeks. She clawed at the table and flopped her head from side to side. The plunging pressure inside her was still intense, but she was getting used to it some. And her anus didn’t burn so much, although it remained stretched wide around the man’s stroking cock. What it did was to tickle pretty good. And it tingled even better. She writhed, rubbing her clit against the edge of the table as her legs flopped in mid-air. Her buttocks vibrated wildly. Up and down between them the man’s long, stiff lovemaker pumped, sinking into her rectum again and again. Marcella’s yelling had attracted the farmer’s wife, and she appeared fearfully in the kitchen doorway once again, to see what new fiendish act her husband was committing. She saw. And her eyes registered at least as much shock as before. “You see this, old woman?” he rasped as he fucked their houseguest’s hot ass. “I’m givin’ it to her right up the old dirt road! You’d never let me do that to you, either.” “Oooh, you filthy man!” she screeched, and went scampering back up the hall. “Do you think I’m filthy-huh, Bible-thumpin’ baby?” he asked Marcella as he kept stroking his hot rod up her tail. “Uuuuh! Ooooh! Yesss, you’re so filthy! But I… ooooh… “ She began to bump. “I love ittt!” She bumped her ass wildly as she clung to the edges of the table, and she thrilled to the asshole-pleasing plunges of the man’s thick, hard prick. His eyes rolled upward in their sockets, and he flung back his head. He fucked Marcella’s ass with all the fervor he possessed and, when he heard her squeal in frenzied climax and felt her asshole ripple spastically around his rod, his fiery bulk jerked in her rectum. He poured gush after spurting gush of thick, creamy cum into her bowels while she shook and climaxed deliriously. Later she used the telephone to send a mail-gram to the leader of her religious cult, charging it to Floyd. The message read: HAVE FOUND THE PLACE FOR OUR NEXT CONGREGATION. AM COMFORTABLY SETTLED AT FLOYD WILCOX FARM. PRAISE THE LORD! |
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