"Oh, I love your cock in me. I want to fuck you forever. I want you to fuck me every day I live...."
She continued her coital movements, climaxing in little tiny explosions every time his cock went in its full length. She humped him with a renewed fervor, with an unceasing passion that she didn't know she possessed. She stroked him fast and deep. She stroked him slow and easy. It didn't matter. Whenever his cock sank in all the way, a tiny new climax would burst in rainbow colors in her mind. It was as if her whole life depended on one vital thing-his cock deep within her pussy. Perhaps it was the weather-warm, tropical air made her very horny, to say the least!
CHAPTER ONE
Suzy Baker, sweltering from the broiling sun, was laying across her towel on the beach and feeling the confines of her pussy smoldering for some decent action. She hadn't paid all that airfare, as well as made expensive hotel accommodations, just to receive a gorgeous tan. No, she thought, as rivulets of sweat oozed from between her ample cleavage; the brochure from the travel agent specified a plethora of men craving fun in the same predatory manner as she did. The exploits at Desire Island were so well-publicized that the owners could afford to be selective in tendering perspective guests, in conjunction with charging princely rates that made it the hottest and most exclusive resort in the world.
Shifting her long, shapely legs so that their exposure to the rays were balanced, she again gave thought to locating an accomplished stud who could help rid her of this nagging frustration that fraught her furburger. Even now, as she was baking to a bronzed hue, her crevice was begging to be filled with a long, hard cock. The sensation of being brusquely penetrated, then robustly pumped, was undeniably of great urgency. It was with some remorse that she couldn't recollect the last opportunity she'd had in securing some vigorous pounding. The night she packed for her trip, she consumed a great deal of wine and inadvertently neglected the demands dictated by her entrapment muscle. Of course, she could have fucked one of the men from the office with whom she'd been drinking, if only for sustenance, but she continually dwelled upon the impressive pectorals of the studs in the brochure and declined all invitations for a nightcap in her apartment (after all, who wanted to settle for conservative sex from dignified peers when she yearned for the beasties! Besides, what could beat the bone-crushing hard-on of a muscle-bound hunk bent on creating varieties of soreness that only her wicked hairpie could endure?)
Upon arriving at Desire Island, she'd seen quite a few cuntal candidates, if only for an energetic session or two, but none that capably qualified by virtue of the brochure. If any prick was to be admitted into the steamy enclosure that was her snatch, then it would have to adequately measure to her particular stipulations (a requisite length of ten to thirteen inches, and a width not to exceed two inches-she wanted her cooze to be pleasantly molested, not mutilated!) The bulges she observed paled in comparison, though some offered promise. What she would have to do was cull through the scores of scrotums and separate those that could provide sufficient pleasure from those that didn't have a chance in hell. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it!
The pangs of her pussy could no longer be ignored. Their chant of "Mother, please feed us," reverberated and strengthened in pitch. It was obvious, even from this morning, that she would have to supply it with nutroll nourishment. Further denial could precipitate hormonal upheaval! (Why she deigned to submit to the pagan appetites of her temper mental twat was a source of untold aggravation! If you couldn't check its sexual proclivities, it could damn well run your life!)
A bead of perspiration spilled down the rounded contours of her big tits, gravitating toward her navel. She shivered as it tingled her flesh, rolling forward, then unceremoniously, dripping between the division of love lips. SSSSSSS! Immediately, Suzy's carnivorous cunt muscles went to work, sucking at the foreign fluid that invaded its dank region, believing it to have originated from a male culture and bearing spermatic properties. A second later, they squealed their disappointment, recognizing it as a female secretion.
"Obviously, you can't wait another fifteen minutes until my tan is even, can you?" she grumbled miserably, grabbing her towel in disgust.
"Very well," she sighed with resignation. She'd have to scout the area for someone suitable, though she extrapolated that the pickings were indeed slim. Stretching her curvaceous figure and permitting her colossal mammaries to assume full plumage as they quivered in their bikini-berth, a sensation of power throbbed from the pit of her stomach. She tossed back her fiery red mane, positioned her designer sunglasses over her sparkling green eyes and affected a sultry pout with glistening red lips. With very little effort, she could have any man that stuck her fancy, and on her terms. The trouble was, she wanted them only once. Relationships bored her and interfered with her lifestyle. The "find 'em, fuck 'em and forget 'em" theology suited her knack for spontaneity. Having impromptu, daring, clandestine couplings provided the most satisfaction, predicating upon the fact that each encounter featured a different partner. Suzy prided herself on never screwing the same man twice.
They all had one chance and had to make the best of it.
Charlie Jagger presided over the action on the beach below while sitting on the balcony of his condominium and contemplating his next sexual encounter. He took another sip of his beer, wondering if he should' roam the area for a delectable blonde to quench his randy thirst. The dead heat of summer invariably had a strong effect on his libido; as soon as he sniffed gash, his balls would churn with desire. Unconsciously, he stroked his erect cock through his swim trunks, fantasizing that it was plunging into a nice, tight cunt. He needed a good session and was determined to see the perfect situation materialize. Not many women discounted the efficiency of his tool, nor its capacity to render amnesia-inducing orgasms. Quite a few who happened to latch themselves onto his linkage found themselves beholden to his boner and were readily capable of murder to renew their acquaintance with its massive proportions. Charlie, however, carefully selected those who earned the right to perch their pussies on his meatpole. His big dick was given a steady diet of blondes and redheads, with a few brunettes tossed in should it favor his erotic palate. First and foremost, an aspiring candidate for organ-grinding was required to be well-endowed in bosom, preferably long, slender legs (shapely calves were an asset) set off by a trim waist. He fancied soft, feminine voices, though sassy tones captured his attention expediently. Brassy, sultry women were a challenge until he proved to them after a lengthy, exhausting fuck that he could surely deliver what was expected, then have sufficient (and decidedly, smug) stamina to give their furburgers another pistol-whipping.
Charlie was Assistant Treasurer to one of New York's biggest banks and encountered a range of bed partners that covered the sexual spectrum. Maintaining his bachelor status and earning a hefty salary afforded him with an image most women found irresistible. Of course, his handsome blond features and muscular physique provided an immediately attraction, with a telltale bulge that ensured prompt perusal. Under normal circumstances, Charlie was observant not to divulge his executive occupation during seduction, his ego reveling in the knowledge that he had crystalized his place in an appetizing girl's bed by sheer charisma.
As he drained the remaining portion of the can in one gulp, he caught a glimpse of an exciting redhead (replete with mammary overkill) saunter across the heat-baked sand. More than one wandering stud examined the curvaceous figure gravitate toward the rows of hotels that lined the stretch of beach. Her inviting, resilent flesh caused an urgent pang in the bowels of his stomach while he was afflicted with a full-fl-edged hard-on. His cock strained within the confines of his swim trunks, begging to be unleashed and given a proper crack at excavating the depths of her wonder hole. Besides being blessed with a body that inspired lust on a grand scale, she had a sweet, innocent complexion that drove men into a frenzy at the possibility of sweating upon it. This voluptuary, Charlie declared, was fit to receive the famous Jagger prick along with a healthy dose of the nourishing Jagger juice.
Brimming with confidence, he quickly crushed the empty beer can and cruised down to the beach.
Suzy floundered with dismay as she avoided the prolonged glances of several men leering hideously in her direction. True, she was looking to get laid", but not by just anyone. She did operate with a degree of discretion and never flagrantly advertised her intentions. Nobody could ever plainly label her a tramp!
"Please ... give us food!" came the irritating whine from between her legs. The muscles in her cooze were haggling with her knack of procrastination, demanding installation of thick, turgid hose for maniacal consumption without delay! There had been a couple possibilities a while ago, but none that promoted drenching wetness! Suzy realized that her hesitation would result in settling for a truly mundane dicking. Instead of treating herself to filet mignon, she would have to be satisfied with meat scraps off the butcher block (an indignty upon which she'd be forced to prevail)!
The assorted comments she elicited from the men positioned along the sidelines was a medley of crudities and vulgarisms hardly worthy of a friendly introduction:
"Hey, I'll do the bitch."
"How'd you like to park your ass on my axel rod?"
"Is your snatch tight enough to pop open bottle caps?"
"I'll bet that mouth used to swallow more than gold fish!"
"Did you ever do it with a hockey stick?"
"My tongue could wash windows and make 'em sparkle!"
"Could I bury my bone in your patch?"
Tossing her red hair over her shoulder (and punctuating the gesture with a sound bouncing of her titties), she proceeded on her way, undeterred by the negative computations that registered. If matters grew critical, she'd consider employing the use of an emery board on her clit (a regular nail file might scratch!)
Just as she was about to return to her hotel room and surrender to her own devices, she spotted a devilishly handsome blond man leaning against a palm tree, fixing her with a calculating grin. Appraising his hard-muscled body with frankness and paying homage to the dramatic mound at his crotch, he appeared to be exactly for what she'd been searching. She returned his expression with an engaging smile, then sashayed toward him with tantalizing aplomb.
Charlie surveyed the luscious contours of Suzy's body, drinking in the supple breasts, the engorged nipples, the splendid arch of back that brought emphasis to a slim waist and the roundness of hips tapering to succulent legs, then experienced what closely resembled a testosterone rush. He envisioned his head embedded between those marvelously tanned thighs, sampling the fragrant secretions that spouted from the opening beneath her red thatch. He imagined her fingers enclose upon his throbbing erection, speeding its dispatch into her quivering entrance. Desperately, he wanted to claim the moist region that existed inside those scant bikini bottoms with one powerful lunge and repeatedly violate it until she was flooded with his hot seed.
Suzy gazed at his raw expression and communicated her unspoken desire for him via a vampish twinkle. She was oblivious to the gloried chorus of "Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life!" singing from her muff as she proceeded in her quest for fulfillment, her cunt dampening with each footstep! Soon, her twat would end its reign of starvation and soon be deliriously munching on the portion of prick pile-driving into her pool of pleasure! Never before had Suzy been consumed with acute horniness!
"You look as though you could use a drink," Charlie, mentioned in a rich baritone that virtually curled her toes and increased the flow of saline secretions to her vaginal cavity. "Chilled bordeaux, Domaine de Chevalier."
"Actually...." she purred, brushing her abundant cleavage against the blond fur that covered his enormous chest (Christ! You could completely carpet a room with it! she thought in agony), "I'd rather work up a thirst before making my selection."
He grinned. "My name's Charlie."
Sex oozed from her simpering pout as she indicated his groin. "And what's your buddy's name? Duke?"
"If you'd care for a personal introduction, I'm sure it could be arranged."
She was thrilled by his lustful arrogance. "I generally have a busy schedule ... but I'm sure I could ... fit you in. The both of you, that is."
Their adjournment to his condo propelled a surge of excitement for their impending clash under the sheets.
Suzy attempted to affect an element of mystery, wanting him to wallow in an erotic delirium until she was ready to unveil her nakedness. She rolled her asscheeks with scintilating motion, advertising their functional aspect; once they were anchored on a rigid pecker, nothing short of a major tremor on the richter scale could shake them off.
Without question, he was intrigued with her seductive style, granting her full creative license. His dong twitched in his suit, primed for some heavy-duty action. If those little buns she was fanning at him were indicative of the performance she was prepared to render, then he wasn't going to show the bitch a shred of mercy! She was going to require oxygen, bandages and plenty of ice to calm the swelling of inflamed pussy tendons! His dick would slice her cunt in half and serve it up as pot-luck stew!
Suzy perceived his malign designs from his wicked glint. She'd recognized similar impulses from other sexual malcontents who implemented a degree of pain to facilitate their pleasure. Tsk, tsk! How this peanut-brained, big-dicked stud misjudged her! Apparently, he measured his ecstasy by the number of stitches required to mend her pussy. Well ... Charlie was about to sample her erotic repertoire of tricks, and should he find the stamina to abide them would surely test his manhood. She'd seen to the emasculation of lesser contenders. It would be interesting to see how he would pit his recuperative powers against hers.
She smoothed her fingers across the stiffened bulge of his crotch, rolling over its solid mass with a resounding purr. "Mmmm, Charlie, what a big cock you have!"
"The better to fuck your brains out, my dear," he retorted. Having reclined upon his bed, he awaited the start of the festivities. A savory aspect of a first encounter was citing which of the two parties displayed more motivation. Invariably, it was the female who insisted upon seeing his pecker in all its unfurled glory while he became spectator to the dispensed variety of acrobatics. Women couldn't wait to absorb his massive dong with their rapacious little mouths!
She observed, from his stance, that she was elected the aggressor. What dreary thing the male ego was! If only to stifle the repetitive cries of her hairpie ("Mother, this is getting ridiculous! We want food, pronto!), she unzipping his fly and stared ravenously at Charlie's pudd. The arresting vision of ten-and-a-half inches beckonned to her. "My God, it is huge! Jesus, that thing could hurt a girl!"
"I've been told it's a pleasant agony," he grinned. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
Suzy recaptured her composure. The column of turgid meatpipe jutted from his groin in scope and grandeur. Its head, enlarged from blood impaction, invited the oral cavity to freely explore and linger. His cock, she proclaimed, was highly suckable, if not richly suited to the dank, soaking environment between her legs. "Of course. I only hope you live through this ordeal to talk about it."
Without preliminary, she traced her poised tongue along the bloated head and its pinkish rim as she breathed hot air onto his uncovered balls. A dribble of saliva escaped and cascaded down the long stretch of rigidity. A second later, Charlie's hand patted the top of her head, prepared to give assistance in locating the desired points of interest. The very tip of her tongue tickled at his opening, tasting saline secretions emitted during the height of arousal. His satisfied grunts assured her that she traversed along the correct track of seduction, then resumed coating it with her special drool.
"Come on, baby ... suck it!" he coaxed, applying gentle, then forceful pressure on her head.
She wasn't apt to follow his heated instructions just yet. She felt the coagulated connection lean toward advanced petrification, but wanted to prolong consummation of the sex act for as long as possible. She drew her strength by draining those of their energy. Charlie would learn of her astute cocksucking skills, as well as her perspicacity in fucking! Subscribing to retalitory measures, she flicked at the underside of the dilated crown and raising its blood composition to a higher plateau.
Charlie gasped at the lips that pecked at the top of his whang, wanting them to descend the tumid shaft and annoint the remainder of his prick with her sexy spittle. Remaining steadfast in position, she nibbled his head while the rest of him ached for dramatic consumption! Was the little bitch afraid of orally engulfing him? Was she truly in fear of choking? Admittedly, he was exceptionally well-hung, but length shouldn't be a hinderance. From the manner in which his engorgement fit in her mouth, he could tell her jowls were made for sucking! If she weren't prepared to accommodate his cock's dimensions, then the tramp shouldn't have alluded to scaling new tantalizing heights! Now that she'd brought his hormone level to boiling pitch, she had little choice but to complete the prescribed task!
Ergo, he would establish dominance!
Cupping her doting head with his sweated palms, he drove her lips downward onto a frenzied concourse of congealed cartilage, calcified muscle, petrified bone and protruding veins! Suzy's eyes bulged in their sockets as inch upon inch of the solid mass attacked her throat structure. Charlie did not relent in her organic plunge, frantically feeding her his hardened hose at a maddening rate!
"GGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAA!" she whimpered in sputtering retort.
"Take it all, bitch!" he rasped. "Pack it all in! Then suck it for all you're worth!"
It took a few moments before Suzy's recouperative powers functioned. Christ! What the hell was this guy trying to do? Rod out her esophogas? His thick pile driver excavated the inner recesses of her trachea! The throbbing implement spiraling down her larynx resembled a cock-catheter! Compressing her lips, she felt the pulsation of excitement, of anticipation of having embedded itself in her oral orifice! Apart from its awesome measurement, Suzy previsioned no problem in its dispatch. Charlie might be under the delusion that he claimed the upperhand, but little did he realize that, if given the opportunity, she could readily suck the bone marrow from his fire hammer!
Big dick or no, Suzy welcomed the challenge.
Vibrating her tongue at full-throttle, she massaged his meat with slippery maw of her throat, recruiting her tonsils to constrict the movement of his colossal tool through her epiglottic region. Her mouth bore down on the rigid thing, gliding her gums along its distended diameter. His lumbering pole lurched from its anchored position and was propelled into free-flight! While his pillar of penetration disengaged from its berth deep in her ovula, Suzy utilized its transition to her advantage. Calling upon her profound resources, she unleashed the wrath of her suctioning forces. The velocity of a tornado was nothing compared to the hell-bent celerity of her windpipes! Suzy could siphon the water out of a flooded cellar more efficiently than a sub pump, if given half a chance.
"Jesus!" gasped Charlie as he relatively felt his kidneys, bladder and testicles get sucked from his body by her vacuuming orifice. Suzy clearly delighted in the resorption of his boner, undetered by its massive size. Her intake of its large dimensions attested to the frantic zeal of unadulterated cocksucking! The fervor of her gobbling receptable was proof of capillary attraction! "Mmmmmm, baby, you sure give a great blow-job!"
Rapaciously, Suzy's mouth absorbed the column of coagulation, obstinate in her mission to impact his seminal eruption. Already, she could feel the dense collection of ejaculate in his balls, and with the knowledge that he would consign their thick, creamy contents to her digestive system was an appetizing prospect! Suzy adored the flavor of hot male discharge as it spewed against her tongue in rapid ejection; it was the one moment when she felt fully in control, witnessing the weakness of another conqeust!
Charlie's hands clamped themselves to her head as he worked his phallic fixture into her oral canal. He was deriving the utmost satisfaction from her engrossment of his shaft. Stealthily, he guided her columnar consumption to the base of her throat, fascinated with how easily it probed the juicy gorge. His prong stiffened in response to her tantalizing licks, coursing with strength. As she delved even farther onto his ramrod, receiving additional inches of turgid beef into her gaping craw, he slammed his head resoundly onto the mattress and emitted a deep groan. Christ, this chick was fantastic. He'd never gotten head of this quality. She was going down on him like a seasoned professional. His rocks were veritably aching to shoot jism into that bottomless throat of hers, and given the seductive rhythm she affected, it would be a simple accomplishment. His perpetual coolness was swiftly abandoning him. He couldn't permit himself to come so quickly, not without furnishing the lady with some sexual gratuities for services rendered!
Without delay, he extracted his dong from her submergence, then roughly lifted her over his proud engorgement. Suzy was briefly suspended above the protruding pudd, watching it jut imperiously from his groin. She was also aware from the wicked glint in his eye that her descent upon it was imminent. While her jowls her ensconsed with sucking him off, her pussy had managed to sufficiently moisten with loin lubricant. The squealing muscles were at last to receive their day's nourishment! However, Suzy had some doubt as to whether she could adequately accommodate the proportions of Charlie's pecker. It was, to say the least, "family size, with fifty percent more!"
"Party hearty, bombs away!" he roared, then sacrificed her slippery slot to his jam-packed impalement. The crown of his shaft bore between the heavenly division of her creamy crevice and sliced into the subterranean region of her dicking ditch! The last thing she experienced was the wallop of his balls as they smacked her rump once his tree trunk-like cock was planted! Her entire cooze felt as though it had an overseas pipeline running through it! With little effort, Charlie had direct access to her fallopian tubes!
"Oh my ... GOD!" Suzy nearly fainted from the tremendous pressure his phallic fixture created.
Her twat had been recipient of many a big dick, but Charlie's tool was unique. Installation of it in her entrapment muscle resembled harpooning the hairpie. Every millimeter of her furburger was crammed with thick dong! "Jesus, baby, you're so huge ... it hurts!"
"Can't handle it, huh?" he grinned triumphantly. "Too much for you?"
Suzy, hardly the one to declare defeat so easily, matched his vainglorious expression. Plainly, this wasn't fucking but survival of the fittest. She'd show him a trick or two. They hadn't labeled her orifice "mighty muff" for nothing. "We'll see who can handle what, Chuckie-Boy!"
With the dispensation of pleasantries concluded, both Charlie and Suzy dove into some serious banging. Her cunt muscles and pussy tendons welcomed the challenge of the pulverizing peter, gripping the outsized beast and preparing it for the milking process ("Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go!") The lumbering meatpole was awash in a whirlpool of eggnog, the dank region manufacturing girl-goo at a frantic rate. The hairy maw that was her snatch grappled the stiffened pile driver and rinsed it with a thick coat of pussy polish!
Suzy groaned deliciously as she rose and sank upon his immense source of pride, enjoying the sensation of being completely filled with ramrod and having her clit coast along its rigid surface. Her hole burned with wanton desire as she feverishly humped his big thing, her juices sizzling. She anchored herself firmly in position, then fondled her breasts with sweet urgency, pinching the nipples until they throbbed with redness! There was always that irresistible threshold between pleasure and pain she loved to cross; she never was aware at which point the transition occurred, for she was thoroughly immersed in getting fucked. What was relevant was that her box receive a diligent dicking.
Charlie lay on his back with a thin film of perspiration covering his face as he watched Suzy rocking herself silly on his upraised prong. He delighted in her breathless whimpers as the column of turgid hose disappeared into her cock compartment, assisting in its penetration by giving it some powerized thrusts of his own. He also appraised the pendulous boobs that swung closely to his face, pleading to be roughly suckled by his mouth. The moment orgasm claimed her (and it wouldn't be long, from her blissful appearance), he planned on smothering himself into her cleavage and indulging in oral tittie-twisting! Merely by glimpsing those fleshy globes, he wanted to discharge himself savagely in her steam pit, ridding himself of an increased hormonal flow. But no, he would continue to let her ride his whang, affording her with a number of climaxes before he expulsed the famous Jagger juice into her sperm bank! His satyric reputation would be tarnished if he succumbed to premature enjaculation.
"Give it to me hard, stud! Don't hold back. I want it as stiff as you can get it, and as far into my cunt as it'll go. Try to make me sore, if you can.
Believe me, scores have tried, but none have succeeded. Show me what a mean fucker you are!"
Suzy observed his bristled features, then a fiery response of five consecutive whacks to her beaver as his boner became buried in her receiving tank! Inwardly, she marveled at his prowess. This man didn't have an ordinary prick, he had a roto-rooter. His colossal tool was burrowing into her hairpie without restraint, administering punishing blows that amounted to heightened levels of excitement for her! She swooned as his wonder rod pumped her cuntal cavity, slipping through her hot tunnel and smacking the walls of resistance mercilessly. Implementing retalitory measures, she ground her twat onto the pillar of penetration, feeling the release of beaver by-product that facilitated beastial mobility. Charlie was unaffected by the counterattack, instead wrapping his arms around her and forcing her billowy excess to press against his hairy chest (which was now matted from heavily sweating and expending incredible amounts of energy). Suzy moaned hoarsely as his engorgement slithered rapidly into tight hole, taking umbrage at his swift move. Charlie was relentless in sending his extensive tool into frenzied motion, filing down her clit as though its throbbing juiciness requires smoothing.
"I'm going to make you cream, bitch!" he growled. "All over my cock. I'll wring your pussy out to dry!"
Suzy detected a lack of control on her behalf as she fell victim to his expert fucking. Under normal circumstances, she was perfectly able to separate herself from the quality of a performance rendered, but Charlie was serving up a powerful dicking the likes of which she hadn't previously encountered. Without reason, she was enjoying the hell out of it. The worst part of it was that she openly showed it. Her incredible ego was floundering, patting that of Charlie's.
"That's it, you little tramp. Come for me! I want to watch you explode!"
Suzy was helpless in his clutches, her ovary oasis recipient of a harsh hosing. The cunt muscles and pussy tendons were exhausted, having been overworked by the congealed mass of meat! The urge to convulse, to welcome the searing contractions that rattled her very womb was too potent to combat! She stared profoundly into his eyes, wanting to capture the expression of power over her. This would be the only chance he had inside her cunt, the opportunity to let pour his hot seed in to her snatch after fucking her to distraction. Suzy never permitted a second time, no matter how wonderful the poking or how masterful the man. As soon as his jism spent itself into the folds of her furburger, she would instantly tire of him. Their assignation would be complete!
Charlie viewed none of this. He swelled with desire for this sensual woman into whom his petrified pecker was submerged. He wanted to see this episode repeated several times during his stay on the island, slipping under her sheets every night and sinking his hard-on into the confines of her frothing fur burger! Suzy appealed to him as no other woman had, despite their rather sordid meeting on the beach and its equally abject conclusion.
"Hurry please!" she implored, gasping for breath as her orgasm mounted. Charlie's enlargement quickened in velocity, causing her entire body to shake as she fought to remain atop his lap. She was so wet from the drenching flow of organ ointment that it spilled precariously onto his joggling balls. Her entire insides were turning to mush as she rapidly entered the point of no return. "I want you to come in me ... now!"
Although it was unintentional, Charlie found himself complying with her entreaty. Volcanic manstuff which had thus far been boiling in his sack, ejected savagely into her slot a second after she screamed in defiance the sweet agony his dick had taken her. She buckled from the flaming seizure, crying out shamelessly as her asscheeks (in automatic response) hammered fiendishly onto his groin and in the process, impaling herself even further onto the outstretched prong! Charlie's head was smashed into the pillows as he pumped his dense load into Suzy's pillaged pussy, digging his fingers into her buns and leaving angry red marks as proof of his satisfaction (though in the throes of wanton abandon, Suzy made a mental note to purchase some Dermassage to assist in their healing).
"That's it, baby," Suzy whimpered, "give it to me. Shoot it in me ... every drop!"
When she was positive his discharge had ended, she slowly extricated herself from the tangle of arms and legs. Charlie appeared fatigued, but hadn't fallen off to sleep. Even though she attempted to be lady-like in the aftermath of animalistic lovemaking, Suzy couldn't fight the compulsion to massage her cooze. True to his word, Charlie had made it deliciously sore, and in its delicate condition, it needed immediate attention.
His hormones now restored to a reasonable level, Charlie's mood softened. He observed the poor girl upon whom he had imposed his will and subjected to a variety of acts for his sexual appeasement. Though words of affection hardly mended loin ligaments, he plied her with his infinite charm.
"How about stepping down to the lounge in the hotel lobby for a drink," he suggested. "We could get better acquainted."
Suzy fetched the scant bathing suit she'd worn on the beach and dressed herself. "If that's meant to establish a relationship on more proper footing, I decline."
"Huh?"
"I have no desire to repeat this situation. I never sleep with a man twice."
Charlie was dumbfounded. "Never?"
"No." She fastened the clasp of her bikini top that held her towering pair of tits in place and offered him a complacent smile. "Please don't take offense. We both certainly had fun. Things went quite well ... but I do abide by the rules I set myself."
Charlie grinned. "Rules are made to be broken."
"Not these." She sashayed over to the door and blew him a kiss. "Please don't try to change them, either. I can be a cold, senseless bitch when I put my mind to it."
He was shocked, unaccustomed to rejection. Charlie Jagger was the most sought-after stud in the better parts of New York. Women chased after him, pleaded him to dispense with erotic favors. His cock was legend.
"You'll be back," he mentioned aloud before she left. "Without an invitation."
Suzy laughed. "That's what they all say. And I've yet to be proven wrong."
CHAPTER TWO
Elsewhere on Desire Island, the natives were restless, two of which were Gerry "Jab" Domboneski and Terry "Thrill Hammer" McGroyn. Having roomed together for the past four years at college, their sharing a condominium seemed the most natural thing. Besides having a friendship marked by an adventuresome spirit in pursuing outrageous sexual exploits, a physical similarity existed which left their conquests numb. Neither could decide whose equipment was greater in size, for Gerry's Jabber measured nearly thirteen inches while Terry's Thrill Hammer, though not as long, had amazing density. What afforded them the most pleasure was the stunned expressions they received prior to penetration. Women were simply befuddled as to how genitalia of their dimensions could conceivably fit in their cooperative-yet-reluctant snatches. Ramrod realignment was their specialty.
"Hey, look at that babe over there," Gerry cited. "How'd you like to do her?"
Terry examined the svelte contours of a prospective lay, her breasts large and ripe, her mouth sensual and pouting. He envisioned a number of erotic acts with which they could actively engage. "I'd do her."
"Yeah, I'd probably do her, too. You should see the chick I did last night while you were still in the bar. Big honkers, tight cunt, hot mouth. She just couldn't get enough of the Jabber. Once I slid it into her box, she went wild! I had to do her three or four times before she was satisfied."
"You really did the bitch. Weren't you exhausted?"
Gerry grinned. "Not a bit. She was fun." He recounted momentarily how responsive she was to his jackhammer thrusts, watching her groan as his swollen cock pushed into her damp hole. Customarily, he resisted from embedding his entire dick plainly because the chicks had a problem with its length (seldomly, he even had to completely cease and withdraw, the pain was too excruciating for them); but she urged him to pound it into her. Initially, he treated her request with delicacy, knowing that enthusiasm on his part could lead to permanent pussy disfigurement, but she extended to him full vaginal visitation rights. The term "Fuck me as hard as you can" was scarcely used after viewing his prof erred prick, but she had implored him to do so. And he did. And did. And did....
"I got myself into a nice sixty-nine scene with someone I met at the bar," Terry admitted. "She gave really good head, too, and went down pretty far. I'm used to having only my head sucked, but she swallowed a good portion of it. I had trouble concentrating on my cuntlapping job while she did me, but I made sure I got her twat soaking with juice."
"Did you do her afterward?"
"Nah. Probably afraid I'd knock her up." Terry's memory lingered on her absorption of his dong, particularly the manner in which her tongue slithered along the column of meat. Several times, he'd been on the verge of orgasm as she drew him further and further into her throat without threat of asphyxiation, orally clinging to his member as though it provided her with wonderful nutrition. He did, however, subscribe to grim mental pictures (i.e., toe jams, yeast infections, kneeling on rice) to impede prematurely spewing seminal fluid! His sporadic dabs at her clit were superficial to her pleasure; what she craved was his big thing in her mouth (though she did enclose him firmly between her legs and encourage his partaking of her slot solution). When finally the gush of dick dilution entered her orifice, she voraciously ingested the gooey load as though it were food of the gods. She appeared to reap the fruits of her labor, despite her crooked smile alluding to the necessity of jaw realignment (thanks to the dastardly diameter of his thrill hammer.)
In the midst of their captivation with the female populace and their tropical environs, two sumptuous girls observed the randy pair with more than passing interest. Both were clad in bikinis that revealed their fleshy assets to their best advantage; long, smooth legs; plump cleavage; and tiny waists. Throughout the morning, they were visually assessed by the male eye but their oblivious expressions preempted any delightful introductions (such as those experienced by our fair Suzy in the first chapter). No, this duo had their sights set on Gerry and Terry, and in the grand old tradition, were determined to get their men!
"Which one do you want?" quieried Kathy, whose glowing green eyes and flaming red hair could immediately capture a man's attention and render it her own. Silently, she cast her vote for Gerry, whose dark blond masculine looks she fervently favored.
Rosemary, unable to make up her mind, fiercely blushed at the possibility of permitting a man's touch to her privates. Resembling the sexy-innocence of a high school cheerleader (though well-established in her twenties), Rosemary was decidedly more a flirt than a participant. Replete with fluffy blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, she personified the conception of forbidden sex. "I ... I don't know. Really, Kath, this isn't such a good idea."
"The hell it is!" she flared. "Didn't you beg me to drag you to Desire Island to have your first, sacred fling? Weren't you sick of the oppression and dominance at home? Your mother-"
"Let's not discuss Mother. She means well."
Kathy sighed dramatically. "For crissake, Rosemary, you can't remain a virgin for the rest of your life."
Rosemary bit her lip. She should never have confessed that cherished secret to her friend, even though they'd known each other since Girl Scouts. Apparently, Kathy had abided by few morals, granting sexual license to whomever expressed an interest. It troubled Rosemary to see men shamelessly pawing Kathy, slipping roaming fingers into her panties and precipitously jabbing them into parts unknown. Frankly, it sickened her, and yet simultaneously, Rosemary became arroused. Not that she particularly cared to be mauled in the same revolting manner. Anyone who was that free with their sexual favors, in her opinion, had a serious defect in character! Once, she was forced to watch Kathy in the heat of passion with another boy, locked in the transports of true ecstasy, moaning and braying at the brusque manipulations of her breasts. From the manner in which they were carrying, Rosemary felt compelled to toss a bucket of cold water to blessedly separate them! Their behavior was similar to that of animals, but still, their primal chants sparked a barrage of emotional fireworks. She wanted a male hand to clutch her, squeeze the supple flesh and wrench free the dormant desires from their imprisonment!
Sadly, Rosemary was a product of her mother's stringent principles, a vestal virgin! She remained so, not from fear of what her mother would do should she violate her code of chastity, but of the startling changes that would commence once her seal of innocence was broken! Rosemary harbored the distinct feeling that a vile wantonness lurked beneath her pure flesh! If unleashed, she would transform into a disgusting creature of the night, preying upon scores of men, daring them to exhaust her insatiability! She trembled that such would happen to her!
She recounted, in grim horror, the first time the sensation nearly emerged! She had dated Don Mitchum and nearly surrendered to his lustful advances. Her mother was against her leaving the house that evening, suspecting the inevitable. As Don took possession of her hand while at the drive-in and clamped it firmly over his bulging crotch, she was incredibly wet, her panties soaked from the labor of her cream-releasing glands! She ventured to wrest free her entrapped palm, but Don sustained a ironfisted grip. His swollen tool was rock-hard, throbbing beneath her heated touch. She imagined withdrawing it from its zipped enclosure, then sampling its salty texture made her knees quiver. She had given thought to going down on him, taking the length of his distended cock into her mouth and frantically sucking it, but she was worried that subscribing to such frivolity would ultimately be a prelude to penetration. Having Don's large penis puncturing her moist innards was more than what she dared to cope!
"Feels so good, baby," he croaked. "Just rub it, up and down. Isn't it really stiff? Just like a stovepipe, huh? Can you fantasize how sweet it would be to get on my lap and let it sink into your hot, compressed hole? Mmmmm, I know it would be great! Come on, don't be afraid...."
"Don, please ... I can't." The image he spun, however, pierced her. Tremulously, she fought to marshal her forces of resistance. She could easily be swayed and succumb to his pulsating need. The urge to consume his boner was imminent!
"Sure you can. All you have to do is-"
"No! I'm sorry, but I can't!"
Angrily, Don brought her home, unaccustomed to being spurned. The handsome leading quarterback of the football team seldom encountered rejection. After depositing her at her front door without so much as a goodnight kiss, she tearfully went into the house, somewhat confused to find her mother waiting impatiently in the hallway.
"It's about time, young lady," she indicated her watch with nostrils flaring and pupils bright. "I've been sick with worry."
"It's okay, Mother," Rosemary explained. "Nothing happened. Don was the perfect gentleman." She saw no reason to instill panic, and so invented a plausible alibi. "I doubt I'll be seeing him again, though. He already has a girl friend."
Rather than being placated, her mother snatched her wrist and began dragging her toward her room. "I'm sure you're correct, dear, but as your mother, I feel it is my right to take certain precautions in seeing that everything is still secure!"
"What do you mean?" Rosemary fretted as she was physically pulled into her mother's bedroom.
The tone her mother employed alluded to dark, disturbing things. With one final push, Rosemary found herself thrust directly in front of old Dr. Miller, the family physician.
"I want a thorough examination," demanded her mother. "I want a certification that she is still a virgin!"
"Oh no!" cried Rosemary as she saw Dr. Miller extract a stethoscope from his black bag. "I'm so humiliated!"
"Shut up!" her mother snarled. "Take off your clothes and follow the doctor's instruction. Please, I have to be sure. You must understand that."
"Oh God, why is this happening to me?" Tears spilled profusely down Rosemary's anguished features as she submitted to the variety of tests, all proving conclusively that nothing afoul had occurred. She suffered the indignity of having her poor little pussy probed with that stethoscope (the cold metal touching her unsullied slot, leaving chills down her spine), while Dr. Miller's wrinkled, ancient fingers poked and prodded to ensure that his findings were valid (she was further taumatized by the discovery that he didn't have a decent manicure before this exploratory procedure)! When Dr. Miller nodded solemnly to her mother that everything was perfectly fine, Rosemary fled from the room and threw herself upon her bed violently sobbing that this scenario would never again be endured. No man would ever break down her moral defenses, not with the threat of Mother having to summon Dr. Miller for a repeat performance.
But as the years passed and Rosemary bluntly refused legions of young, horny, and alas, vituperate men from obtaining their sexual due, she concluded that denying herself of what other girls fully enjoyed was pointless. She took stock of her surroundings and deduced that those same girls weren't worried about having their mothers force them into taking medical examinations to determine their virginal statuses (not to mention fear of that predicament was clearly a distraction of energies)!
Which led her to this wild vacation with Kathy. Kathy, her liberated and totally uninhibited girl friend to which sex was hardly a stranger. Kathy was aware of her problem and resolved that several explicit episodes with the opposite sex would provide the requisite cure. Rosemary had agreed only in a moment of weakness, but now that they were encompassed with hedonistic men, she was quickly having a change of heart. Was she out of her mind? Could she actually grant sexual liberties to a random selection of men in a casual manner? The thought of it was thoroughly repellent!
"So who do you want?" Kathy asked impatiently, bringing her back to the present. "The blond or the dark-haired one?"
Rosemary winced. "Neither."
"Come on. Don't wimp out. From the bulge in their swim suits, either one is a winner. Frankly, I prefer blonds myself."
"Please, Kathy, this isn't an act of coercion. I couldn't honestly offer myself to someone. It's so ... cheap."
Kathy swung her beach bag over her shoulder, adjusted her sunglasses and sighed. They'd had this discussion before, nothing yet having changed. "Well, see you in the shower, toots!"
Rosemary watched with painful quiescence as Kathy approached Gerry in haughty style, sparked conversation and eventually slipped away with him. Her consenting glance left little to the imagination. As the couple vanished from sight (adjourning to more suitable quarters to consummate bone jumping), Rosemary pointed out to herself that Kathy was, in her heart, not a tramp, but simply a misdirected individual suffering from poor moral judgement.
Terry ambled over to her, a sheepish grin planted on his face. "How's about it, babe? I'd really love to do you."
"Do me?" she echoed with unfamiliarity. "I haven't the faintest idea to what you're referring."
Rather than expound, Terry clutched the outgrowth of hardened meat protruding from his groin and applied a hearty squeeze.
Rosemary was appalled by the sight of a man making lewd gestures for her express benefit and openly frowned. "Well, I never-That's utterly disgusting! I will have no part of it."
"Suit yourself, babe. But if you change your mind...."
"Never. You're imbalanced. A true reprobate. I will have nothing to do with you or that ... that thing!"
"You mean my Thrill Hammer. Hey, babe, don't knock it 'til you've tried it." He stroked it fondly, proud of his enormous equipment.
"Get it away from me!" she snapped, afraid that it would suddenly burst from its confines and brutally attack her. "I'm sure you'll have no problem servicing one of the many licentious women on this island. I'm sure most would qualify."
Terry was amused by her show of disapproval. "Don't get your underwear all in a bundle, babe. If you don't want me to do you, then let's leave well enough alone." On that note, he departed.
"Ooooooohhhhhhhhh!" moaned Kathy as Gerry's tongue slithered in to the drenched cove between her legs. She dug her nails into the sheets, blissfully undulating her naked thighs while her legs were draped over his shoulders (which accorded him with direct access to her frothy chambers), her flaming red hair splayed across the pillow. Her luscious features were a study in agonized rhapsody. "Oh Gerry, please, don't stop. Don't ... stop!"
His saliva washed against her burning clitoris, flavoring her saline secretions with his own flavor. He traced his fluttering tip along the smooth surface, initially dabbing it with playful strokes, then gradually increasing both pressure and frequency. His thumbs, holding open the furry entrance, became greased by the outpourings of fuck juice which flowed in a torrent. With her cunt in a state of aggravated succulence, he inserted his finger into the damp tunnel and vigorously pumped it! Her feverish respondence in the form of a sharp gasp followed by reckless quivering gave him a raging hard-on in the time that he contemplates actual penetration with The Jabber.
"Mmmmm, suck me, baby!" she whimpered. "Suck my pussy! Lick it hard, lap up those juices. Drink it all up!"
Gerry, at the ready to please, delivers a show of orality to which Kathy has never experienced. He suckles her hairpie with the enthusiasm of a seasoned professional, sipping the brew of scented juices that seeped from her sodden snatch! Oodles of girl goo rinse from her lubricated loins like a veritable stream, the frothy fluid flushing from her furburger in fine repartee! Persistently, he feeds from the tasty nectar which is reaped from the bountiful box, availing himself to its high concentration of calcium and vitamins! His tongue laps luxuriously at the inflamed clitoris, tormenting it with lingering strokes, vibrating it with his moist tip, coercing it to graduated levels of ecstasy! It swells to a point of near-bursting, reacting wildly to the consistent flow of oral attention. Even in that, Gerry is not lax in his duty, perfunctorily massaging her humping humidifier until there is no question of her compliance in fulfilling his own desires. He knows she must be completely prepared for The Jabber, to be sufficiently wet in accommodating his colossal proportions. She acknowledged The Jabber briefly before he immersed himself with muff-munching and exhibited optimism toward handling it. However, Gerry saw attitudes change once the moment arrived when favors called for reciprocation, and it was with mixed feelings that The Jabber found gainful employment. A few times, he was pleaded with to stop in the midst of a painful coupling and to slowly extricate its bone-crushing hardness from its embedment (though, depending on how closely he was toward orgasm did he actually obey; a man certainly possessed his own code of ethics)!
Kathy seemed hardly in danger of repudiation. "Christ, you're fantastic! Mmmmm ... harder, faster! Suck it, eat my twat! Lick up that beaver-by-product, sip that vagina vinagrette. You're making me sopping wet, leaking with juice ... slip that tongue into my hole. Nibble on my clit. Eat hearty!"
Gerry was wonderfully ensconced with her pussy precipitations, burying his face into her furry enfold. Her shapely asscheeks thrashed tirelessly on the mattress, enjoying his erotic appetite to thrive. Her fingernails continued to scratch the bedding, then pound frantically on his head whereupon she combed through the mane of dark blond hair. Her loins seared with an unstoppable blaze, her clitoris scorched from his consignment of hot licks! She tightened her legs around his head, wrapping them securely about his face to ensure uninterupted gorging! Sweat dribbled from her flesh in torrents, mixing with her brand of slot solution!
"Oh Jesus, you're going to make me come!" she rambled in her feverish delirum. "I want to cream all over your face."
Gerry's mind had clicked several frames in advance of her impending climax. He was anticipating the sensation of The Jabber grinding into her sluiced port, attaining a sexual asylum in her ovary oasis.
Kathy's whole being shook, her legs clinging tenaciously to his head, her contorted features bearing the intoxication of crazed nymphomaniac. "Ohhhhhh! Arrrrggggghhhh! Oh God! I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm ... presently in the creaming cycle! Arrgggghhhh!" She wrung the last of her cunt drippings, quickly dispatched by his efficient tongue and collapsed exhaustedly in a heap. Her limbs lamely disengaged themselves from their perch, her energy diminished from the delicious contractions. Her clitoris throbbed sorely within her cooze, oral friction having reduced it to a worn out wart!
On the heels of her peaked excitation, Gerry arranged to make his "grand entrance." No idle person he. Dick-dallying was his specialty. Kneeling proudly before her reposed form, The Jabber jutting spectacularly from his groin, he fondled it with preparatory measure, then regarded the set of stimulating asscheeks at his erotic disposal. Kathy was breathing deeply, eyes closed, unaware of his malign designs. Her hand fluttering to her brow, brushing away the film of collected perspiration.
"Come on, babe," he murmured to her as he gripped her curvaceous buttocks, marveling their smooth texture. She muttered sleepily, attempting to turn from the unbeknownst engorgement. Aggressively, he altered her position, easing her onto her stomach. The tempting arrangement of buns lurked merely a few inches from his towering tool. Haltingly, he propped them up, positioning The Jabber in direct line with the rear entrance to her muff. Kathy's face was smothered in the assemblage of pillows, oblivious to the world, fatigued and listless. Gerry took some satisfaction in having effectively disposed of her with his expert cuntlapping, then proceeded. Giving his monolith member a final carss, he brought the engorged crown to her still-moist opening and commenced feeding her its length! Inch by rigid inch, he began to fill her.
"Ohhhhhh...." Kathy moaned groggily. "Gerry, wait ... I need to rest. I'm still aching."
Grinning, he hushed her. "I'm gonna do you."
Another section of stiff prick slid into the dank orifice. "Not yet. Give me a chance to recuperate." This, she evoked, between sharp gasps.
Gerry was undettered by her discomfiture. Doing her was of vital importance. Despite her mild reluctance, he was certain he had her unspoken agreement; she wasn't exactly withdrawing her posterior from further impalement. "It'll be fun."
Kathy clawed at the sheet, her crevice a hot-bed of penile occupation. The Jabber's far-reaching dimensions lumbered into unexplored regions of the entrapment muscle-cavity. With each new milimeter he covered within her twat's terrain, she found herself brandishing the flag of defeat. The sweetness of being engulfed by his wondrous rod was overwhelming. "Oh yes, do me, do me!"
Gerry winked. "A little jab'll do ya." He punctuated his declaration with a resounding thrust to her rump, hurriedly sending the remaining inches of turgid cock home, the slapping of his balls on twin moons slightly more than love pats.
"OH MY G-O-D!" came her shriek of exasperation. The wet smack of two groins enmeshed in lustful union reverberated throughout the room as well as their audible groans. Kathy's hair resembled a hanging mop, the red tresses falling over her face. Gerry couldn't see the anguished features, her luscious lips compressed, muttering injured cries while extensively involved in doing her. The column of congealed meat slipped swiftly between her legs and hurled into the excavated hairpie with maddening speed. The gaping hole unwilling granted passage to the massive dong, parting furry lips to maximum capacity to house its amazing width! "Gerry, S-T-O-P!"
The command to have him cease and desist mildly irritated him, though he had no intention of doing so. He resolved that a little sweet talk would soften her enough until he could discharge. The dense load of jism he was carrying in his sack desperately needed to be voided into her juicy confines. Hot talk generally got one's adrenaline pumping, at any rate. "You don't really want me to, do you, babe? You want me to pull my huge dick out of your little muff when it feels so good? Jesus, you're nice and wet, clamping those muscles on my Jabber. Just relax and enjoy the motion...."
Kathy whined, "It's so big, though. I've had a few large ones, but yours surely beats the band. It's hurting me."
"Don't think about its size; think about all the wonderful sensations its causing. How awesome it is for my rock-hard thing to be pumping that tight box, and how that slippery wall binds itself to that thick column of meat." He paused for effect, then grunted, "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"
She didn't speak, trembling as the Jabber plunged into the saturated abyss. She was supported by her elbows, her body spiraling downward, her hair fanned across the sheet.
Gerry studied the heart-shaped asscheeks, then eagerly fed them his turgid hose. He relished the delicious compression of his boner as its length slid through her love tunnel! Vigoriously, he sent his engorgement into her cock compartment without restraint!
"There," he muttered, poking through the drenched orifice, slicing into the narrow canal that was her furburger, easing cockmeat into the central recesses of her snatch. "I can tell you don't want to stop. Listen to how squishy your pussy is. You got so wet for me, wet for The Jabber. You want my big thing up your beaver, doing you the way you want to be done. Ahhhh! You're pretty tight where it counts. I love that way your hairpie seizes my dick and milks it for all its worth. Mmmmm! Oh, babe, I know you don't want me to stop ... not for even a second!"
"Ohhh...." came a mild whimper, then a progressive shifting of weight. She seemed to be opening wider to receive him, to absorb his big prick! "Ohhhh!"
Gerry felt perfectly in control. Kathy arched her hips as he swung forward into her dicking ditch, accepting the tumid length of solidification harmoniously rather than thwarting its invasion. Blood surged through his groin and stiffened his impalement to a subline state of rigidity as pumped her, hosing her at a leisurely rate. He was determined to luxuriate in the sumptuous act of sweet penetration. "You like it doggie style, huh? Like my huge dong up your tight muff? You like the way I'm doing you, huh?"
To his utter surprise, he heard a soulful retort: "Do me! Do me rough! Give it to me, stud! Harder, faster! Don't hold back, I want you to split me in half!"
He reached under her upraised torso and fondled her breasts. Her nipples were stiff as gold nuggets imploring to be squeezed, which he did without reservation. His hands availed themselves to the billowy excess, thrilling to their buoyancy.
Kathy was elated by his absorption with them and soon found herself impaling her own self on his protruding manhood! No longer could she ignore the call of pleasure coursing through her body. Gerry had awakened her lust, revitalized it with his overwhelming prowess! She had little choice but to sexually capitulate, feeling her insides literally turn to jelly as his powerful hard-on entered her furburger with authority! The initial pain associated with the measurement of his sexual apparatus became secondary to servicing his intense need! If it were required of her to undergo severe discomfort if only to please him, then she would do so willingly! Gladly would she become his love slave, for however long he ordained!
She swooned from the thickness of his cock rubbing persistently against her agitated clitoris, which swelled to a throbbing tempo. The constant friction was precipitating another orgasm, one for which she wasn't quite prepared. Accommodating his penile dimensions had merely been one hurdle; managing to climax gracefully while utterly stuffed with petrified cockmeat was an acrobatic feat (i.e., grace under pressure)! Gerry's skillful manipulations to her mammaries, however, impeded her sense of direction. She was embroiled in a vortex of passion, hot swirls of ecastasy emanating from nipple to clitoris. As his thumbs enclosed the erect tips, she urgently spewed scads of organ ointment onto his charging phallus.
Gerry, perspiring heavily from the session, felt the clamor of orgasm settling upon him. From Kathy's increased breathing and thrashing, he was cognizant that their joint pleasure would be expiring simultaneously. Her sluiced cunt was so thoroughly drenched that when his hammering boner smacked her groin, his stomach got splashed with fuck juice. Rapidly, the delicious sensation to discharge energized his thrusts.
"I'm ready to pop, babe," he moaned. "Ready to give you your do!"
"Yes!" she screamed, shivering from the anticipation, stroking her palm over the enormous pecker as it ground into her gaping hole. "Do me right. Do me ... now!"
"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!" he roared as the gush of seminal fluid ushered from his balls and whiplashed mightily into her cock compartment. The strength of the spasms carried him through the vortex which had held Kathy a prisoner, hurling him through space and time. With one last breath, he clutched her by the breasts, raising her up against his chest and vertically introducing the flow of semen into her homogenized hairpie.
"OOHHHHHHHH! UHHHHHHHH!" she groaned at the flushing of the rocket rinse. Provoking convulsions detonated during the transference of male reproductive fluid, violent spasmodic twitchings radiating tremors of unprecedented gratification never before produced by inferior equipment! Kathy leaned her head back onto Gerry's chest while gritting her teeth and hissing sardonically as the ampage of vagina voltage registered record levels of excitement. She softly petted his nuts as the final spurtings of rod remittance soared into highly solvent sperm bank, his memorable deposit noted and acknowledged.
"Bravo!" clapped Terry McGroyn, who was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, having witnessed their dramatic rendition of "Hiding the Salami."
"Encore! Encore!"
Kathy, mortified that she'd been watched, unplugged Gerry's still-throbbing erection from her sore pussy and scampered for cover. Having lost herself in the transports of feverish rhapsody, she'd been oblivious of having courting an audience. "Shit. What's going on here?"
Gerry chuckled at her attempted modesty. "You remember Terry, my roommate, a.k.a. The Thrill Hammer."
Terry grinned. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, babe."
Kathy nodded speechlessly, reaching for her disposed bathing suit and dressing with what pride she could muster.
"Hey, didn't you do Kathy's roommate?" Gerry asked.
"Nah, the bitch stiffed me. Wouldn't put out."
"You mean she took a pass on The Thrill Hammer?"
"Exactly."
Kathy stepped back into view, fully dressed, looking every inch a voluptuary in her scant bikini. "I would hardly expect your blunt maneuver to be very successful. Rosemary, you see, is a virgin."
Both men gulped with excitement. "A VIRGIN!"
She smiled fondly at the male element. Whenever the mention of the word "virgin" pierced their hearing, the thrill of a challenge formulated in their narrow, scattered minds. Prominent bulges shaped their respective crotches. "Correct. She's never had a man before. Her objective in coming to Desire Island is to meet the ideal candidate who will rescue her from the dilemma. Either of you studs interested?"
Gerry's eyes were glowing. "Let's make a monetary wager right now: who can do the virgin first! One hundred bucks on the head!"
Terry appeared confidant of his credentials. "I'll do the bitch first, hands down."
"Not unless I show her what a little Jab can do ya!"
"Then it's settled. You have the remainder of the week to qualify. Whoever does her first wins the pot!" Kathy snickererd as she watched them brimming with intrepidity. Obviously, they were unprepared for the likes of Rosemary. Her virtue was her hallmark, and those who thought otherwise would equate breaking into Fort Knox a simpler task!
Let the best man win!
CHAPTER THREE
The ambiance of the Bare Butt Bar was precisely what Suzy Baker craved after a long day spent on the hot beach tanning herself to bronzed perfection. She entered the smoke-engulfed cocktail lounge in another of her scintalating bathing outfits (this one equally inadequate in covering the luscious abundancy of billowy boob and red little thatch between her legs), accessorized by a short silky beach robe and tall, spiked heels which accented her excellent calve formation. Gazing at the throng gathered about the bar (a good many lacking the lower portion of their bathing suits, thus qualifying them as members of this sensualist establishment), sharing potent drinks and exchanging room numbers, she wondered if there wasn't a man in attendance worthy of her boudoir charms for the evening. As if Charlie Jagger's prolific hosing hadn't sufficiently appeased her grumbling loins ("Mother, PLEASE feed me!"), she was again subject to their voracious chant for penile consumption.
Suzy ordered a glass of chablis and surreptitously watched a man massaging the asscheeks of a woman seated on a bar stool who was engaged in a conversation with a different male on her opposite side. The woman recipient of hindquarter inspection didn't show the least bit concern that her attention was being divided, permitting the man with roving hands to actually squeeze and fondle her naked rump (another claimant of the Bare Butt Bar's legacy) while absorbing someone else's running commentary. Suzy grimaced, feeling the woman was probably accustomed to having sycophants fawning over her and simultaneously having errant paws driving her to distraction! Some women were pathetically insecure. Why couldn't they enjoy one man's charms to their fullest before seeking the replacement of another's? Not only would this economize on the number of men crammed into this room, but it would afford everyone equal opportunity.
"Hi," murmured a richly-masculine voice from behind, "could I buy you a drink?"
Suzy whirled around to find an attractive older man (approximately forty years of age), trim and physically appealing, blond with a receding hairline and a devilish glint in his eye which foretold of a preponderance for wildness. She did a quick check of his crotch and noted that he bore a significant bulge. Without reservation, she knew it would be this man with whom she would take to bed. Slyly, she pushed her filled glass of wine from view and fixed him with an entrancing smile. "Yes, of course. I'd love that."
"My name's Tom. Tom Even."
"And I'm Suzy."
Tom traced the direction of her glance and observed the woman whose posterior was being mauled while otherwise preoccupied. "It's my guess she's casting her vote for the gent with which she's talking. If she were interested in the least, she would have turned to see who was grabbing her ass."
Suzy accepted the fresh drink brought to her and sipped it furtively, appraising her selected companion for the evening. For an older man, he carried about him an aura of mystery and sheer sexual energy. Suzy wondered exactly how it would be with him. His mouth smirked in an appealing way, as though he dared her to challenge his sexual prowess. It was his eyes, however, which mesmerized her: they harnessed the power to enslave.
She refocused on the odd trio at the bar and was bound to agree with Tom. The guy with whom she was exchanging witticisms clearly had the lead. They watched on as he skillfully maneuvered his arm around her and gently coaxed her into an embrace. Ostensibly, the two were on the verge of kissing, their mouths opening to receive each other's tongue. With that intimacy dispensed, the identity of the winner would undoubtedly emerge.
The man fondling her moonpairing, as it happened, elected to win her attention with a flair for the dramatic and perhaps pathos.
"GGGGAAAAAAAAAA!" the woman exclaimed, leaping from her bar stool and thus dissolving the seductive atmosphere perpetuated by the conversationalist (and also capturing the heedfulness of everyone within earshot)!
"My Lord," Suzy sighed with disgust, "what some people wouldn't do for a proper introduction. Talk about getting immediately to the point!"
"I suppose frequently a lounge of lurid repute and adhering to its practices might result in some spontaneity." He took a swallow of his scotch as punctuation of that wisdom.
It was of little surprise to either that the girl opted for the romantic charms of her pussy invader! Suzy shook her head in dismay as she watched them depart the Bare Butt Bar, their arms about each other's back (his hand resting triumphantly on her unclothed bottom, stroking it with the stroke of success)! Without question, she approved of expediency in reducing unnecessary delays, but that enactment was purely ridiculous!
"Mother," whispered the hungry pussy tendons from their cuntal confines, "please ... FEED us!"
"Shut up!" she snared. "You'll be fed!"
"What was that you just said?" queried Tom Even. "To whom were you speaking?"
Suzy flashed him a smile. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking aloud." (How could she begin to define the torrid relationship between herself and that furry nocturnal creature residing between her legs!)
Tom, interpreting her response as an invitation, set his large hand on her tanned thigh. Instantly, she felt a searing, molten sensation churn from the pit of her stomach, prompting production of beaver by-product! The spills of eggnog rinsed from her receiving tank as she considered admission of his throbbing prick! Why prolong the wait? If the couple at the bar used dispatch at their convenience, then so would she.
Relinquishing the glass from his hands, she addressed him with her famous "come-hither" glance. "We've business which to attend elsewhere."
"Oh Christ...." Tom gasped upon his back as the length of his rigid cock vanished into Suzy's accommodating mouth, her lips trembling as they received its enormity!
Moments before when he had undressed, she quivered at his protrusion's measure, the huge slab of meat jutting from his groin in resemblance to a magnificent flagpole! Summarily, her knees turned to jelly and she had little recourse but to pay homage to its size by way of orality! Tom, trained animal which he was, had ripped the bikini from her heated flesh, her big tits exploding from confinement and displayed in resplendent plummage (good thing she had brought a supply of the flimsy things, or she would have been incensed at its decimation)! Without preliminary, she scurried between his legs and took the engorged dick wholly into her throat!
"Mmmmm!" he muttered, gripping her head and directing the input of his enlargement into her oral chamber. "Suck my big until Put it all the way down! Ahhhh! Gobble it up! Blow that unit!"
Prior to disrobing, Tom had referred to his massive tool as his unit, and encouraged her to employ that word whenever making mention of its placement. Suzy was accustomed to the pet terms various lovers used in describing their respective equipment; "unit," for some inexplicable reason, got her quite hot!
Feverishly, she suckled the pulsating unit, gnashing her warm lips against its tumid surface, shivering from its invigorating taste as it slid into the inner sanctum of her throat! Her thumb lamely rubbed the underside of his balls, detecting the location of spermatic fluids as they gathered for volcanic ejection. Gently, she withdrew from his pulsing staff and redeployed her tongue at his sack, lapping the musky flesh and tickling the hair folicles of his pubics. She nursed his rocks with the delicacy they required, administering dabs of saliva where needed.
Tom was enthralled with her oral delivery, but wanted to keep his unit wet. "Come on, I want you to suck it ... suck my unit!" With great urgency, he hoisted her head back to its crown and force-fed its petrification. Inches of hardened hose slipped back into her trachea after a few insistent thrusts. That warm, wonderful feeling of being consumed by a ravenous mouth was one upon which Tom thrived. He loved when his unit was recipient of talented head, artfully executed licks and creative sucking. Perhaps the most inspired vision was witnessing its gradual disappearance between the lascivious lips of an eager participant.
A seminal explosion within Suzy's throat was not on his itinerary for the evening. Her success in perpetuating his loftly erection earned her the right to sit on his unit, but only in the style and opulence of which her sexiness accorded her. Tom eased her off his rigidity and caressed her smooth complexion tenderly.
Suzy realized precisely what he yearned. "You want to fuck me right now, don't you?"
He nodded. "Have you ever been a 'spinner'?"
"A spinner? What's that?"
He gestured to a Taiwan basket elevated by ropes and a pulley perched above the bed. Suzy noted the hole at the bottom of the basket and knew, without verbal explanation, to what he was inferring. "I've never done anything like that."
"It's quite pleasurable for both parties involved. You might want to give it a ... whirl."
She grinned at his awkward attempt at humor. "I'm not so sure I should...."
Tom reached for her cunt and firmly squeezed it. "If your degree of wetness is any indication, I think you've unwittingly casted your decision."
Chills of excitement coursed through her. Tom had the ability to predetermine her responses. Intuitively, he cited what mechanisms oiled her gears of passion! She stroked his impalement with fondness, feeling the blood ebb and flow in the congealed mass of stiffened dong, then consented to place herself in the contraption.
"I hope I don't get too dizzy," she said as he assisted her.
"You won't have to worry about that," he assured her. "Once I start pumping my unit into your snatch, you won't even be certain in which direction you'll be spinning."
Suzy tingled with excitement. She loved a strong, domineering man, one fanatical in dictating the order of things (not that Suzy preferred subservience, but it made the sexual proceedings more interesting if she feigned weakness at the appropriate intervals).
Tom adjusted the height at which the basket would sway above the bed, secured the rope, then laid back upon the bed. He held his colossal unit up right, the amazing stretch of tumid beef paralleling a giant monument. Ruminating about how fabulous it would be to have that bone-extention up her twat precipitated a fresh gush of girl goo! In fact, she was still so wet from having gone down on him that she was afraid of a hairpie-hydro-plane!
Tom grasped the basket and steered it directly over his swollen prick. His winning smile served to soothe any misconceptions she had about being suspended in a basket. She knew the hairy maw of her beaver was all that peered out from the hole at the bottom.
Suddenly, there was the titillation of his unit piercing the division of cooze lips and its ascending plunge into the far reaches of her cuntal cavity. Suzy couldn't supress the delicious groan of pleasure as she became impaled, his pillar of penetration lumbering into the sodden orifice!
"Ohhhh, Tom!" she whimpered. "Ohhhhh ... your unit is so ... long, so solid! Mmmmm! I love it. I want you to fuck me as hard as you can with your big unit!"
"It'll be fucking you in a way you never imagined!" he promised with an attractive leer. "Enjoy, for the moment, the sweet act of penetration. Take satisfaction in the fit of my unit in your hot crevice, filling you with coagulated cartilage. Doesn't it make you want to cream that much more?"
"Oh yes!" she panted. "There's cream deposits coated all over your stiffie!" The basket increased its descent on the embedment until Suzy finally felt their groins unite in the wake of submerged pain. The entire shaft of his unit was implanted, its hardness crammed in the confines of moist tissue and loin leakage. Suzy could scarcely talk while housing the tremendous pressure deep inside her snatch.
His hands readied the basket for propelling. "Are you ready, babe? Ready to take a ... spin?"
Suzy took a large, cleansing breath before answering. She filled her lungs with air, then screamed, "LET 'ER RIP!"
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
"OH MY ... GGGGOOOOOOOODDDDD!" Suzy bellowed as her clitoris did thirty revolutions per second on his powerful unit. She spun through a haze, her hair whipping behind her as Tom maintained a steady hand on the basket. His meatpole, inflexibly rigid, served as an axis onto which her entire body turned!
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
"Isn't this fantastic?" Tom groaned in the midst of rod-rotation, his features mirroring utter bliss. "Don't you feel as though your muff is on the maypole?"
Suzy equated the experience as being a whirly-bird in heat, what with the basket whisking around, transporting her into previously unexplored avenues of gratification. The center of her being was transformed into a hairpie-heli-copter, doing a twat-twirl. "Don't stop now, buffalo. Keep those gears grinding!"
Tom needed little more encouragement, for he was already thoroughly enjoying the juicy gyrations of her box, providing his unit with optimal pleasure. He was marvelously trapped within a vagina vortex. Thus far, her pussy was doing fifty R.P.M.'s without problem. "Come on, babe, do the twat-twist, the beaver bend, the cunt curve, the slot shift. Whisk that furburger on my unit. Let's see that pussy pivot. Do a wheelie on my whang. Swing that snatch. Fluctuate that fur-burger. Hurl that hairpie. Coil that cooze. Roll yourself around that rod. Swivel on that slab. Wrap that crevice around my unit. Ahhhhh!"
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
Suzy thrilled to the circular movement, performing in multitudes the pussy pirouette. Her love tunnel felt more as though it were on a turntable than in a basket, getting poked in the center. If Tom's unit weren't the whopping engorement it was, lodged within her fathomless furburger, she would have flown off the handle and bashed her head against the wall! She rejoiced in the solid feel of bone aggitating her innards, stirring her eggnog until it was a tart blend of pussy puree! Fervently, she humped his unit proficiently, coating it with cunt concoction to better facilitate its excavation (and in doing so, elaborating her march toward victorious orgasm)!
"Faster!" she whimpered. "Spin me faster, and fuck me harder. Drive that unit into my loin-J chopper. Feed that massive hose into my organ squeezer. My holding tank's in the rotary rinse cycle. Keep poking my merry-go-round muff. Aaaaaarrrrggggghhhhhh!"
Tom complied with all submitted requests, plumbing her muscle relaxer with a finely-stiffened cock. Exerting his resources, he sent the basket twirling like a roulette wheel, watching Suzy's mane of red hair resembling the flickering flames of a blazing fire. A few well-placed, energized thrusts to her groin elicited satisfied groans of ecstasy with the promise of more to come (speaking of which, Old Faithful was due to erupt shortly; Suzy would be hugely thrilled to discover his unit was replete with its seminal sprinkler system capable of extinguishing the most virulent form of horniness after a few dollops)!
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
It was during her hundredth or so revolution that Suzy felt the advance tremors of her own orgasm. They happened upon her with efficiency, clamoring at her churning pussy tendons and hankering her juice glands. Convulsions took root, sending her into a wild quiver. She was going to cream heavily onto his prick propellor!
"Now!" she wailed. "I'm going to come ... now! OHHHHHHH! MMMMMMMMMMMM! UUUUUHHHHHHH!"
Tom felt the ironfisted-grip of her snatch clench his unit, thereby ejecting a flood of rod remittance into her fun farm! In one spasm, a thick load of dick dispursement was siphoned into her cooze, followed by several spurtings of hot seed! His loins were ablaze with glory as he fitfully liquidated all holdings in his sperm bank. "UUUGGGGHHH! AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!"
The contraption finally halted with Suzy's limbs dangling from the sides, her red hair a tangled web. From below, she could hear Tom's labored breathing, and as she regained her composure, she was able to climb from her perch to check on him. As she stepped back onto the ground, she clutched to a dresser for support, still dizzy from the perpetuate spinning (she felt as though her space shuttle had just landed from a crazy orbit)!
"Oh, Tom...." she remarked with awe as she gazed at his unit. "What have I done-"
She supposed all that twisting motion was to blame, but his once proud and straight protrusion now resembled a corkscrew with circular indentations. He had, in essence, a screwed-up stiffie. Perhaps he would overcome his penchant for Taiwan baskets and set his sights for less hazardous forms of pleasure.
"Where are you going?" he asked as she retreived her disposed bikini and began to dress. "Certainly, you're not leaving."
"I'm afraid so," she addressed him with her most sultry gaze. "Thanks for the ride on your carousel cock, but I devoutly believe in one try per customer."
"But we've only just started," he was persistent. "Get back into bed and let's continue where we left off."
"Sorry, Tom. Fucking you was equivalent to sitting on an elephant tusk, which is fine by me, but once is quite enough. Frankly, I never repeat sessions. Never."
"Not even for another spin on my unit?"
She giggled, shaking her head, and set off for her next erotic encounter, leaving poor Tom thoroughly perplexed and in need of having his prick untwisted.
Terry McGroyn, hardly the one to waste time with strategic maneuvers, already formulated a plan as to how he would infiltrate Rosemary's chaste shores and authenticate her womanhood. His sharp brain whirred at the prospect of burying the pulsating Thrill Hammer into her most sacred place while obliterating her maidenhead with power-driven force and pummeling pussy tendons into submission with a single, fluent motion! True, Rosemary had resisted his antecedent request to provide sheer, unadulterated pleasure; now he was prepared to dispense it in such aplomb that she would invariably plead with him to extinguish her despised virginity with one brutal thrust. Unconsciously, he stroked the brimming hardness under his swimming trucks, emboldened by this secret of knowledge.
Rosemary had been under his astute observation, so he knew precisely where to find her. The beach was shrouded in darkness, the night breeze cooling the sun-baked sands as his feet shuffled along their determined path. Terry noted the absence of people along the shoreline, theorizing that most likely adjourned to the comfort of hotel rooms to consummate their lustful hungers.
At last he happened upon the diaphanous figure of Rosemary, luxuriant as she was seated before the waves as they smacked her front side with resounding force. She undulated with each swell, shivering as the tide broke against her supple breasts, and swooning as it impacted her groin. Terry imagined the sensation of water and sea particles swirling frantically between those gamine legs, the surf pounding insistently against the gentle mound with foam rinsing the softness of her inner thighs. It was equivalent to receiving a sand douche!
Terry viewed the complacency of Rosemary's features, the mute gaze, the glistening lips and deducted that the transfixed girl was in desperate need of a good fucking, particularly the kind at which he excelled. The surge of blood in his engorged cock throbbed with enthusiasm as he gravitated toward his quarry, prepared to unleash the fury of his hormones. Rosemary, he was certain, would be helpless in resisting the wonders of the Thrill Hammer.
Basking in the tide of titilation, Rosemary was oblivious to the invasion of her privacy. Her nipples hardened from the onslaught of rolling waves, the marvelous thrashing of combers with their salty spray, igniting the embers of passion. She longed for the male hand to reach out and touch her, to caress her billowy promontories and pinch the swollen nuggets that bobbed on their fleshy precipice! If only a practiced mouth could gain purchase of her furry enclosure and drive true with purposeful tongue into the fragrant wetness! She quivered as these visions gripped her, propelled by the continuous curls! She wanted not to dwell on wicked thoughts, but the motion of the sea invited them! If only a man were present....
All at once, she was actually aware she was being watched. She turned her shoulder to see Terry McGroyn sitting a few feet back with a cool grin planted on his face. Flustered, she worried that her wanton abandon with the natural elements was at public display.
"How ... how long have you-" she stammered.
"Long enough," he murmured.
She swallowed hard, then fought to rise. Her knees were rubbery and try as she did, she found difficulty in standing. She very nearly buckled from under his lecherous scrutiny. Had he caught her fantasizing, seduced by the lure of the ocean? Somehow, even in her uncomfortable predicament, she was incredibly excited. Although it would be uncharacteristic of her to admit it, Terry was darkly appealing. The thought of his arms encircling her, his mouth nibbling the nape of her throat and his bulging crotch pressing against her briefly made her quiver. In her enticed state, she was quite vulnerable. The urge to be deflowered by the colossal tool out-lined by his tight swim trunks was tremendous. The desire to stroke it and free it from its imprisonment was more than she could bear. She shuddered to venture how simply he could lower her onto her back, granting relief to her trembling legs, pushing her against the warm sand and removing her wet bikini bottoms. Once unclothed, he would guide his proud engorgement into her sluiced opening, penetrating the seal of her innocence and consigning her to the throes of unparalleled ecstasy! It took her very breath away to envision this forbidden union, the treacherous act of fornication which her mother forbade but ultimately compelled her. Desperately, she wanted to experience a huge cock embedded in her most secret place, in that part of her body which anxioiusly twitched whenever she had an impure thought! To have a man's prick buried deeply inside that tightened passage, muscles straining as it contained the penile girth inspirited her! Once again, she yearned to free herself from the bonds of morality and personify the soul of spontaneity.
Yet the ghosts of conscience precluded its occurrence.
"It's late," she mentioned. "I'd better be going."
"You don't have to go anywhere. Not when you're with me."
She wasn't alarmed by his brashness, merely resigned to her unflagging virtue. "Don't waste it on me, Terry. There's plenty of girls down at the bar which would welcome your company."
"I don't care about them," his gaze held boldness. "I know what I want."
Rosemary was cognizant that his stiffened member was in proximity of her clenched fist. The center of her palm ached to clasp the congealed mass of cockmeat, to encircle the bloated crown of his petrified thing.
Central to her list of priorities was to maintain her self-respect, however; yielding to the weakness of the flesh could invariably label her a tramp of the worst variety.
Terry sensed her detachedness from the impending encounter. His compacted boner twitched feverishly beneath the fabric of his swim trunks. Expeditiously, he wanted to insert it in her hallowed hairpie. If Rosemary remained disinterested, he would have little choice but to beat-off, and given the record of her virginal status, victory appeared bleak.
"I have to go," she repeated with conviction and began drifting away, shattering his dream of heaven and instilling one which included a cold shower with plenty of soap!
Terry was swift to react, refusing to have his loftly ego demoted (not to mention, having the door slammed in the Thrill Hammer's face)! His hand clamped firmly on her shoulder, pulling her back toward him, and in the process, making her buoyant bosom available to his touch. Her soft, supple flesh molded to his solid, muscular frame in sweet surrender. The searing outline of his tempered-steel hard-on made its agonizing impression against her firm asscheek. In a calculated move, Terry's fingertips grazed her navel and delved into the unchartered marvels of her bikini bottom!
Rosemary gritted her teeth as she felt the exploration of her pubic thatch, shivering as he wove through the tangle of curls. What was she doing, permitting this recalcitrant young man to fondle her snatch without admonishing him for the despicable deed? A sharp slap or a well-placed kick would bring him to heel, but she possessed little desire to see his efforts aborted. He cupped her mound with gentle persistence, rotating the flat of his palm over her furburger with delicious fluency. Genuinely, she wanted him to stop, but the sheer pleasure of the act prevented her from censuring him.
"Oh, Terry...." she whimpered, nearing collapse at the ministrations to her golden box, and almost tumbled to the ground if his hard body hadn't been positioned behind her. Rosemary groped the Thrill Hammer in the heat of her sexual delirium, thumbing its rigidity through its covering. Girl-goo flowed from her slot like a fountainhead, dampening his hand while leaving a fragrant residue. As nature had ordained, she was moistening herself for the act of penetration. Whether or not she feared the decimation of her hymen, her cunt had no conscience.
Terry was beaming from within. Not only had he reversed her decision to flees but he was about to do her! Even Gerry with his enormous Jabber couldn't have scored so swiftly. The gamble of whom did Rosemary first was ultimately a short-lived proposition. It was the easiest hundred bucks he ever made.
Employing action rather than verbage to coerce her, he let one finger precipitously drop to the slit of her unravaged-as-yet furburger and stealthily probed the sluiced opening. Upon entry, Rosemary gasped and ground her lush buttocks against his engorged pecker. Terry grunted at the compaction of ass muscle as they strained the thickness of his hairpie harpoon! A drop of seminal fluid escaped from his bloated head, indicating that his arousal reached an alarming peak; delaying penile insertion might result in premature ejaculation. If that were to happen, he would most assuredly lose the wager!
With smooth persuasion, Terry guided their molded forms down to the carpet of sand, his finger maintaining its vigil within the shallow depth of her twat and his dick tucked securely in the crack of her ass. Rosemary was still under the spell of his seduction and obediently followed by unspoken instruction.
Her tits had been pulled free from the bikini top, granting his thumb and forefinger unlimited access to her erect nipples; they pulsed and throbbed within his skillful grip. He cupped the wealth of pillowy softness, plying it with urgent pressure. She responded heatedly, burrowing his Thrill Hammer in the clutch of her buns!
The blood surging within his swollen shaft was at maximum containment; he would have to impale the bitch soon!
Rosemary was in the throes of excitation! An abundancy of beaver by-product churned from her cream-releasing glands with whirlpool turbulence! Her level of fuck juice was replenished. She was utterly amazed at the transformation of moth to flame. It went against the grain of her moral upbringing, it violated every rule of decency she'd been taught, it shattered the pristine images she'd nutured for years, but Rosemary hungered for the cock-connection.
"Wanna do you, babe," he muttered in her ear. "Wanna cream in your sweet little pussy."
Her clitoris vibrated from his manipulation, his expert finger work causing her muff-musculature to contract! Her humping humidifier was fraught with palpitations, dieting the perculation of fresh pussy juice. Her entire body was a conduit of pleasure, wired by vagina voltage. If Terry continued to finger-feed her fur-farm, she was going to have one hell of a blow out.
Unconsciously, she fumbled blindly into his swim trunks, seized the petrified Thrill Hammer and without preliminary, began to distractedly yank on it.
Terry's eyes lit up like beacons. In a few precious seconds, it would all be over. If she wasn't restrained from her pudd-pulling affliction, the rocket rinse intended for the introductory coating of her love canal at the conclusion of the breaking-in ceremonies would be voided into the night. "No, baby, don't-"
His strangled cry was lost as the potently erogenous missiles were fired. Rosemary's clit exploded into a twenty-one gun salute as orgasm washed over her. Gash grenades detonated with amazing fire power. Her loins were thoroughly bombarded with beaver backfire, leaving her cunt in shell-shock from the gunsmoke of his finger.
"Oh God! Urggghhh!" she howled euphorically.
Her meteoric convulsions precipitated feverish grappling of the Thrill Hammer, her repeated throttling urging it to expel its seminal content. Terry fought to focus on grim situations which would otherwise impede climax (i.e., jock itch, smegma, nose hair), but the rumbling in his balls precluded the fact.
With utter resignation, he relinquished his rod remittance on her exposed tits, and with it, the unrequited dreams of glory, the supremacy of ego, the chastity he almost ruined and the hundred dollars he would not get! His chance, like his beef brew, was being blow to the wind! "Uggh! Oh Christ!" Hot seed pumped from his turgid tool, creating a fountainous display of dick disbursement! "Take it all, bitch, for what it's worth! Ugggghhhhhhhh!"
Rosemary watched the expulsion of jism dampen her breasts in the aftermath of ecstasy. As the final spurts of manstuff were deposited of her mammaries, she sobered to present. Her excess of hormones depleted, her lustful tendencies satisfied, she was released from the clutch of dark desire. With mounting horror, she saw her virtue crippled, though still intact. What had driven her to such volatile extremes? Was she in that much of a hurry to achieve tramp status?
Mother would surely insist upon a medical examination this time.
The cold metal of the probing devices inside her snatch, the thick spectacles of Dr. Miller peering into the musky hole, seeking irreparable damage!
No! She would not submit to that again!
Not that!
"Wait, don't go," Terry gestured weakly, struggling with his recuperative powers. "Don't be afraid-"
But already, Rosemary had fled the scene, humiliated, torn, dejected, but still a certifiable virgin!
CHAPTER FOUR
Christine Martin had decided, when ending her twenty-year marriage with divorce, to celebrate by treating herself to a week's worth of erotic excursions at Desire Island. At forty-four, she still possessed a firm, luscious figure. To the untrained eye of the common male, she appeared a healthy, vibrant woman with ten years subtracted from her actual age.
Through she was not amply provided in bosom, as were her youthful adversaries, her body was lean and taunt, with nary a trace of excess or sagging flesh. Her breasts were resilient with protruding nipples which commanded pinching, squeezing and other inventive forms of mammary manipulation. To ensure an adventurously renewed life, she had also undergone vagina tightening (since having gone under the knife, her pussy felt tight as a drum)!
Christine was hardly a stranger to the diverse methods of pleasure with which men acquaint themselves. Some of them, she truly savored. Her former husband, Frank, an aeronautical engineer had a secret fetish for creative aerial maneuvers. After their honeymoon, he had a sufficiently sturdy chandelier installed in their bedroom from which Christine could hang! Initially, Christine thought this an unusual perversion, for she was instructed to swing nakedly over the bed (sitting on those damned crystals, which had a penchant of going up her anus) while Frank furiously masturbated below. Just as he approached climax, she was expected to leap from the chandelier, land precisely on his groin, impale herself on his jutting pecker in the process and receive his spurting ejaculate! It was a hot and acrobatic feat which she improved with each performance (given her expert timing and flair for the dramatic) but which she tired from over the years. There simply was no enjoyment from which she could derive.
Christine had her fill of flying fucks. She shed her man and wanted none to replace him. If she needed a cock-for-hire, a listing of unpublished numbers was furnished to her by her girl friend, Gail, which afforded her with a plethora of well-equiped studs. Finding a supply of functional phalluses was not her central priority.
Locating some available snatch was.
Because her sex life had become so drastically jaded, Christine relegated the male genitalia solely to reproductivity and since she wanted no children, it was grossly expendable. Why did millions of women clamor for the ineffectual penetration of that rigid outgrowth that oftentimes spewed its slimy secretions before it could promote genuine passion? Frank presumed she attained satisfaction from having his boner packed solidly in the sweltering confines of her moist slot (and the only reason she became wet was from her own digital ministrations). No, men cared not from the amount of gratification women reaped from their physical appendages, they only craved their ultimate release, their parting of seminal fluid and its consignment to the female orifice. Men were selfish, egotistical and inefficient lovers.
Prior to Christine's introduction to the complexity of lesbianism, she found it invariably repellant. Women communicating their desires via serpentine tongues, soft caresses and strap-on devices was a frightening conception. Equivocally, the seed of curiosity had been planted.
Christine's divorce lawyer, Olivia Barrett, sensed her client's disinterest in men. Both women were attractively staturesque brunettes with similar tastes in fashion and cuisine. Olivia was a sharp judge of character and interpreted Christine's invigorated response to her presence as a sign of sexual preference. Although Christine clearly hadn't garnered any homosexual experiences, Olivia deduced that carefully prescribed suggestions could elicit those hidden urges.
After inviting her to her apartment at the conclusion of the divorce proceedings, Olivia offered Christine a protent cocktail. Christine, unsuspecting of her lawyer's predesigns, accepted the beverage as a token of friendship and consumed it with little encouragement. The usual banter existed, composed of the gossipy chatter to which women were accustomed. As they conversed, Christine couldn't help from realizing how beautiful Olivia was, that her figure was perfectly maintained by a stringent diet and exercise regimen. She often wished she subscribed to the physical fitness programs of most women and made a mental note to make inquiries to register with one now that she would have more time on her hands. But her observations had erotic overtones as she traced the contours of Olivia's body, noting the succulent rise of breast, the delightful curves and the invitation of perfumed flesh. She envisoned Olivia's pliant mouth over her own bosom, suckling heartily on her nipples and pinioning their billowy softness with inquisitive fingers. To her complete surprise, the saline secretions of her cunt dampened her panties and her clitoris throbbed excitedly. Christine was so overcome by these fragmented images that she was forced to place her glass on Olivia's coffee table until she regained her composure.
Olivia's antenae discounted nothing. She moved closer to Christine and brought the enticing peaks and valleys of her voluptuous body at closer range. Christine was utterly mesmerized by the bounty offered her and instinctively followed her given lead. Olivia watched her client's seduced reaction to the calculated brushing of thighs, the wetting of lips, the suggestive arching of her spine. None of these subtle hints failed to escape Christine. She absorbed each morsel as an apprentice in training, storing these bestowed pearls for eventual use and let the frothy juices which flowed from her love tunnel spill in unfurled grandeur.
When Olivia's hand finally ventured under Christine's dress and enclosed her crotch, the flames of mutual desire ignited. Christine swooned as Olivia's fingers were granted access to her flammable furburger and inserted into the steamy passage. Her loins were lathered with eggnog, oozing from her sexual core. Olivia's palm was swiftly coated with liquid passion.
Expeditiously, Christine's panties were dispatched as Olivia's limber tongue found gainful employment at the source of her client's sweet nectar. Luxuriant dabs at her clitoris caused Christine to undulate in blissful surrender. Never had she experienced such joy as when the creative flicks of Olivia's tongue made wondrous contact. Christine thrusted her beaver resolutely in her lawyer's face, gifting her with a cunt cornucopia.
Recounting the episode customarily left Christine sopping wet. She had twisted wildly on the sofa while Olivia, having knelt between her legs, lapped the spouting lubricant. There was a wonderful style about her orality; Olivia simply never tired while giving head. Her energy was boundless. She could relatively suck pussy for hours, setting an effort few successive lovers could duplicate. She immersed herself in the task of cleaning the expulsion of juice from the bowels of her cooze, leaving no spot unclaimed. Her clitoris was inflamed from Olivia's proficient cuntlapping to the extent that Christine's nails dug into the upholstery and tore the fabric. Olivia was merciless in relinquishing her post, bearing down with fluttering strokes that made Christine's feature contort. She was determined to make her come as she'd never done before.
Christine brought her legs over Olivia's shoulders as she slouched further in her passive position. Olivia was making quite a meal of her twat, stretching her feast to its limit. The incessant flicking at her clitoris caused a peculiar sensation to build from inside, and since she'd never achieved fulfillment with Frank, experiencing orgasm was a foreign frontier. As the promise of unequaled delight mounted, Christine's worries materialized. The taboo rules she'd violated in allowing a woman to service her would now see that she'd suffer a cruel fate. No. She was innocent. The entire scenario was based on her inveiglement and not something she, herself, had perpetrated. Her clitoris was on the verge of exploding and she inhaled deeply as she awaited pronounced sentence. Olivia's tongue lashed marvelously at the love button, annointing the swollen tip with saliva and propelled it toward the sacrilegious threshold. Christine felt as though she were tumbling through a timeless void, spinning through space and eternity while sputtering fuck juice from her leaking muff. And then, her beaver blew up! "GGGGGAAAAA!"
It was a furburger fireworks display of which she couldn't have imagined in her wildest fantasies. It was a cunt concussion, a receiving tank eruption, a dicking ditch detonation, a pussy percussion, a cooze combustion, a hairpie ignition, a furburger fulmination, an organ outburst, a box blast and a pussy pop!
It was fucking fantastic!
After Olivia had finally climbed a ladder to unhinge her client's high heels from the ceiling (with Christine dangling, no less), it was time to reciprocate favors. If Olivia had supplied rocket fuel for Christine's journey into the stratosphere, then surely it was only polite to send her to the upper reaches of space.
Olivia, estimating that Christine's inaugural attempts at pussy-sucking were at best to be tolerated (for she fully expected a clumsy, amateurish delivery), slipped her panties off and gave an encouraging nod as she spread her legs.
It was all the incentive Christine required.
No sooner did the manicured hair of Olivia's crevice rear its shapened head to Christine's tongue, all hell broke loose. Christine descended upon the unsuspecting slot as a rattlesnake would strike its prey. Spinning her tongue similarly to that of a paddlewheel, Christine set about devouring the sluiced innards of the sacrificial snatch. Beaver by-product flicked from her darting like rain would splash from windshield wiper blades. Olivia was totally unprepared for the quality of Christine's oral performance, agog from the enthusiasm she projected. If Christine's fingernails had previously ripped into the sofa, Olivia was now yanking out the springs and hurling them across the room. Christine's lips were so voracious in their quest to provide ecstasy that they tore pubic hair from Olivia's thatch while gobbling up the geyser of girl-goo (Christine made her second mental note that night to floss before retiring). Olivia moaned in rapturous retort while Christine growled ravenously into the proferred box.
Christine, never having sampled a woman's secretions nor contemplating its consuption, valued Olivia's profusion of pussy polish as a quenching beverage! Greedily, she gulped the furburger formula, siphoning the slot seepage as though it were Dom Perignon! Licking a clitoris could hardly be weighed a perversion; not when one accounted for the rewards of ecstatical contractions from the deft strokes of a laboring tongue. Men, with their coarse methods, seemed ill-suited at rendering the level of inventiveness the art of cunt lapping demanded.
As Olivia rounded the final stretch of her erotic racetrack, she abandoned control. Her buttocks thrashed against the cushions while her fingernails raked through Christine's tresses. She mumbled incoherently as though battling a feverish delirium, with clothes disheveled and perspiration gathered at her temples. She clenched her teeth and slammed her twat mightily into Christine's face, daring her to finish her off. Between her legs, the musky scent of freshly-squeezed cunt permiated the air. The cauldron of hellish juices bubbled and hissed in her steamy vat.
And then, tremors which would have split open the earth racked Olivia's loins and caused her to scream with falsetto shrillness.
"OOOOOOHHHH FUCK!"
When it was over, when everything resumed normalcy, when Christine rose to her feet with her face moist with organ ointment and covered with stray pubic hair, when Olivia opened her eyes and felt the numbness of her lower torso recede, the entire world had changed. Christine had come to realize her true identity, the very purpose of her existence and Olivia had confirmed the necessity of reconstructive surgery to her injured pussy.
Life was reborn!
Christine gazed out the window of her hotel suite at the tropical environs that awaited her further adventures. Olivia (recovering nicely at a private hospital) had been her mentor, showing her the light. She would now take the lantern given her and shine it onto the lives of others who would appreciate its brillance.
It was here, at Desire Island, where she would practice her craft as it was intended, among nubile young girls.
It was here, at Desire Island, where she would suck pussy until her gums rotted.
Film at eleven!
Kathy was stretched on the bed, her magnificent tits gleaming in the moonlight, her mane of red hair fanned across the pillow. Her sensual mouth was wet and glistening, her eyes emulating sexual torment. She was positioned on her side with one leg arched in a provocative angle while the thickness of a huge cock repeatedly thrusted into her sluiced slot. Greg, someone she stumbled upon at the beach and invited to her room, was grunting from behind, feeding his engorged organ into her hot, compressed hole. His hands clamped at her hips, his pelting groin burrowed into the shelter of her buttocks, he was securely latched to her writhing form. Both sweltered heavily as they were imprisoned in this inferno of passion, ensnared by their latched groins!
But the heat of their union had long since cooled as Kathy referred to the dignital clock on her nightstand. She and Greg had been fucking for nearly two hours without intermission. Her cooze, normally the benevolent receptacle of many a prick, was fatigued, sore and deficient in juice. The friction of Greg's poking dong left a dull ache which necessitated immediate medication. Forty-five minutes, even an hour, was a sufficient length for intercourse to ensue; after that, it was rough-going.
The subject of withdrawal, Kathy learned, should be approached with delicacy. The male ego, when swiftly deflated, could be exacting.
Extrication should be broached tactfully!
Affecting a throaty wail, Kathy murmured, "Greg ... like, I've got to get some sleep. Okay? Like ... I'm really beat."
"Just give me five more minutes," he groaned.
Kathy, ever the humanitarian, acquiesced.
As promised, Greg's lumbering thing hosed her box for five additional minutes, interminably invading her cuntal cavity with his protracted pumping. Kathy resorted to counting sheep rather than the number of strokes it took to precipitate orgasm. Greg eased his measure of compacted meat into the base of her beaver, rhymically grinding his dick's diameter into the fatigued furburger. The crown of his bloated member traveled soundly into the depths of her dicking ditch, throughly submerged into her snatch, plowing through the tunnel of titilation as it gained passion's momentum! Driving his whopping tool with renewed purpose, penetration into penile-probed pussy assumed brisk definition! Greg's big dipper slammed with reverberating impact into her fur farm, mashing the muff-musculature and battering her box.
Kathy, already reasonably sore from his procrastinated climax, elected to phone room service in providing her with a wheelchair at the completion of Greg's slam-bang performance!
To accelerate his ejaculation, Kathy employed a medley of erotic comments in stimulating his sensual creativity (and thankfully deliver her from this agonizing predicament)! "Pound it in me, stud. Hard. Give me the best part of yourself, hammering my hairpie. Bash it up my hole. Nail me with your pulverizer. Sink that stiffie into that sperm bank and make your deposit. Park your love pistol into my cock compartment. Drop it down my mineshaft. Hump that hole, poke that twat. Fuck up a storm!"
Greg plunged profoundly into her abyss of pleasure, then, as his time-limit drew to a close, proceeded to convulse and empty his rocket juice into the ramparts of her receiving tank. "Uuuugh! Mmmmm! I'm creaming in your cooze! Filling up your furburger with fuck fluid. Gonna flood you with come, bitch! Aarrrrrggghhhhh!"
After two hours of unmitigated hosing, he had better have a brain-damage-rendering orgasm.
Greg, quite the typical male, slinked from her hotel room after divesting himself of his excessive hormones. Kathy was only too glad to be spared the torture of conducting polite conversation while nursing a wounded pussy.
A half hour of rubbing salves and whispering soothing words to the inflamed mound, Kathy concluded the only true method of restoration would take place in the Jacuzzi near the pool. The hot jet streams provided wonderfully recuperative powers.
Opportunely, the area was practically exempt of people. Though a few milled about in alcoholic stupors (some falling over each other and sustaining multiple contusions on the cement pavement), Kathy was amply afforded the degree of privacy imperative to pussy tendon regeneration.
Settling into the healing waters, she gasped at the immediate comfort. Her nipples instantly grew to erectness, protruding prominently from her towering pair. Kathy observed, with mild interest, how the two fleshy nuggets bobbed along the frothy surface. She was also cognizant that force from the propellants created a delightful billowing in her cleavage. Her boobs vibrated nicely from the hydraulic motion while her beaver was most assuredly on the mend!
Just as she became acclimatized to her tranquil environment, she heard a splash at the other end of the Jacuzzi and detected the presence of another individual. Shit, she thought before opening her eyes. Another horny male looking to make a conquest. After tonight's debacle, she'd had her quota of cock for the day, thank you. Her pussy simply wasn't capable of handling the surplus.
"Mmmmm, this is marvelous," declared a soft feminine voice.
Kathy found herself peering into the eyes of a luscious, older woman (of indeterminate age) with mammaries the size of overly ripe melons. Breathing a sigh of relief that she wasn't about to be mauled, she once again assumed gentle repose. At least a woman wouldn't foist her sexual charms at another woman.
Kathy wouldn't have so quickly dismissed the notion had she known her alluring concomitant was none other than Christine Martin, notorious lesbian!
Instinctively, Kathy sought out the nozzle from the water jettisoned and arranged her cunt in purposeful proximity. The blast alleviated much of the inflammation, refreshing her furburger. She let out a mollified moan as the remediable sensation engulfed her. The woman who joined her wouldn't be appalled by her use of the Jacuzzi, having probably incurred beaver bruises in the past herself (women carried the brunt of world's woes on their shoulders)!
"Would you care for a drink?" Christine queried, hoping to pierce Kathy's intense concentration. After taking a gander at those jugs, she wanted desperately to engage her in a frivolous game of twat tag. "I was on my way to the bar and I thought you might care for one."
Kathy considered the luxury of an alcoholic beverage in this heavenly whirlpool. "Yes, of course. I'm afraid I left my purse in my room, though."
"Not to worry, I have plenty of cash." And juice, she clucked wickedly to herself.
Kathy scrutinized the pair of shapely asscheeks drip with tantalizing flesh as Christine climbed from the Jacuzzi and displayed beautifully proportioned legs with muscled calves. She further traced her seductive walk as she strolled to the bar, observing the bounce which emphasized each curvaceous nuance of her sumptuous body. The added effect of water pressure to her throbbing clitoris promoted subjugation. Kathy felt herself sweetly lulled into a web of sexual intriuge.
When Christine returned, Kathy was exhuberant. She accepted the glass of chablis without reservation and sipped it furtively while availing herelf of generous glances of her ample busom. Briefly, she questioned what type of man was able to please this woman. Would a plentifully hairy chest, large penis and an acrobatic tongue be prerequisites? Irrefutably, a confirmed voluptuary couldn't possibly be content without the inclusion of all three stipulations.
Christine entered the invigorating waters with delectable panache, allowing her fleshy globes to gain pronouncement. The monolith mammaries bobbed and floated, an enviable bundle of billowy excess that inspired molestation. Taking a drink of her wine, she let her stringent gaze sweep across Kathy's succulent contours. Her flesh was young and vital, worshipped by the sun and brought easily into male subservience. A second glimpse was unnecessary to determine she had recently been with a man and that she'd come here alone to regroup. This girl, this mere child would acquire a sexual palette with a varied menu of delights.
"Doesn't this feel good?" Christine asked her, shifting gloriously through the welcoming turbulence. "Just to sit here and relax? The aches just disappear...."
Kathy promptly reflected on her ruptured snatch and its rapid revival. Not only had the pain receded, but her clitoris was strangely pulsating. The lure of the warm jet streams was more than she could resist.
Christine, however, presented a decidedly new temptation.
"It is nice. I could stay here ... forever."
The husky tone, the unmistakable hesitation. Christine interpretted each of the given signs of seduction. Smugly, she gravitated closer to Kathy, letting her eyes glaze over from the misty vision of her bountiful cleavage. While in transit, she felt the same thrust of water that evidently lashed at Kathy's hornified pussy. Mrnmmm, she understood the girl's easy surrender.
Kathy trembled at Christine's nearness and her inability to remove herself from the situation. Previously, Kathy had no problem becoming detached from another woman's advances, but Christine's hoovering presence was not one to be ignored.
Intuitively, Christine drifted behind Kathy and guided her directly in front of the waterpipe. The mighty gush assaulted her excited clitoris and momentarily stunned her. While her beaver battled the delicious blast, Christine caressed her shoulders, letting her perfectly manicured nails tease the smooth skin. Kathy whimpered at the uninterupted pounding of water of her love button and mildly struggled to avert its onslaught, but Christine prevented her escape with physical restraint. Gradually, the liquid propellants bested her beaver and she capitulated.
"Now," Christine muttered faintly, "I'm going to finger your snatch!"
Kathy nodded her consent, too stimulated to support opposition.
Christine's hand slipped smoothly into Kathy's bikini bottom, adroitly petting the pubic growth, her finger quickly located her clitoris and promptly set about lubricating her loins (digital invasion of the cuntal cavity could be disastrous if the proper level of arrousal wasn't totally achieved). Employing slow, circular motions to the swollen member, she heard Kathy's sharp intake of breath and felt her muscles tense. After having her hairpie water-whiplashed, she proceeded with extreme caution. The constant foaminess provided the essential element of maintaining their lame, indulgent mood.
Kathy was uncertain what warranted this dark craving. Her sexual orientation had been predominately male, yet Christine's accomplished touch reinterpretted those values. She was about to have her pussy poked by a woman, and although the notion was repugnant, she was unequivocably drawn to its procedure.
"Ohhhhh!" she gasped involuntarily at the skilled manipulation of her humping humidifier. Her box was abundantly dampened with slot solution! The cooze ooze simply spilled in torrents, lathering Christine's palm.
The consistency of cunt quencher pleased Christine, but she wasn't apt to feed so quickly. Prolonging Kathy's erotic torment was pivotal to success of her corruption! Busily, Christine applied vigorous clitoral digitation.
"Uhhhhh! Oh God! Don't stop!" Kathy groaned, unable to counteract the mass-production of cream! If Christine continued at this rate, her twat could qualify as a legitimate pasturizing plant, with a complete line of dairy products! "Mmmm! You sweet bitch. Jiggle those juicers! Snatch that snatch! Grab that box! Whisk that wonder hole! Pluck that pussy. Snag that slot. Hook that hairpie. Flip that furburger. Bounce that beaver. Fling that fur farm. Grapple with that gash. Seize that slot. Clutch that cunt. Enclose that cooze. Clasp that crevice."
The entrance to Kathy's love tunnel was sufficiently slippery to be evaluated as a thriving swamp. Doubtlessly, Kathy had attained a common wetness imperative for fist-fucking!
Beckoning her to perch those compact asscheeks at the edge of the Jacuzzi, Christine readied the girl for exquisite exploration. She appraised the furry little twat, speculating its receptiveness to a clenched fist. Perhaps subscribing to a preparatory measure would ensure cooperation of the pussy tendons.
Imperiously, Christine bared her tongue for the ordeal!
Kathy purred her agreement to the rush of pleasure furnished to her sluiced snatch as she propped herself backward on trembling elbows! The fluttering tip dabbed wonderfully at the well-attended clitoris, warranting the fresh perculation of vagina vinagrette! Didn't this woman ever tire of dispensing fragments of ecstasy? No man had ever personally seen to her consummation of sheer joy as Christine had so casually. A single flick to her love button brought more exhilaration then ten strokings of a thick cock! Involuntarily, she thrusted her groin into Christine's absorbant face, whimpering her appreciation.
"That's it, my darling," Christine cajoled. "Let spill your nectareous au jus! Mmmmmm! There is nothing comparable to the flavor of natural au jus!"
"Eat it. Lick it all up! Ohhhhhhh!"
"That, I will. Without failure!"
Kathy twisted in her grasp, thrashing her buttocks while Christine devoured her box! If her nipples had inflated in size proportionately with the amount of stimulus previously dispatched by the water pressure, then they were amplified by oral distribution. Christine had mastered the butterfly technique! Pussy-sucking was indeed her forte.
"You're making me cream, you bitch," Kathy sputtered, sweat dripping profusely from her brow, urging the disposal of beaver by-product.
"I'll make you do more than that, tramp. Much more!"
"Please do. Do me now!"
Hastily, Christine extracted her tongue from the preferred clitoris and stretched her hand in full nail-lacquered regalia before Kathy's face. "You needn't ask twice!"
S-P-L-A-T! went her fist into the pit of pussy puree!
"GGGGAAAAA!" Kathy screamed in sublime elation, kicking her legs in the aftermath of the blessed plunge. "Fuck me with that hand! Pummel those pussy tendons. Mash that muff musculature. Throttle that furburger. Rattle my receiving tank. Pound. Slam. Agitate."
Christine smugly complied. She hadn't anticipated such enthusiastic repartee. "You've got yourself a deal, honey. Man the torpedos. Full speed ahead!"
"AAAhhhhhhhh!" was Kathy's gratified reponse.
Christine's fist nose-dived into the sodden clutch of muscle, wringing it of its collective juices. She labored through the network of beaver brawn, twat tissue and pussy protoplasm, gathering slime in the process. The act of submerging her entire paw into the confines of one's snatch was infinitely more satisfying than any of her diverse sexual adventures. The moistness, the physical resistance and the final surrender was of premiere distinctions. Reaching into the drenched orifice and generating a fine friction established harmony of the hairpie. There was nothing debased or perverted about fist-fucking, merely a simple exercise in vaginal discipline.
Kathy moaned excitedly as the massaging of her muff. She equated the size of her fist to one of the larger dicks that infiltrated her furburger. Christine's vagainal vise in her gelatinous innards was an invigorating sensation. Au jus was in auspicious evidence.
Although embroiled in the pussy probatory procedure, Christine hadn't discounted the clitoris's perpetual need for inspiration. With expedition, she arranged for Kathy's explored orifice to be recipient of the flow from the sputtering spigot! The rinse of sparking water on her love button provoked many a shiver from Kathy.
"You're going to make me come, you bitch!"
"Precisely my intention. Cream on this, you little tramp!" Her fingers jiggled torturously in the swallow of her snatch.
The faucet on her furburger, the hand up her hairpie, the taunting from her beguiling authoritarian unitedly served to incite the wrath of orgasm! Kathy attempted to brace her loins for what she presumed would be hellish contractions, but as her humping humidifier registered their convulsive strength, she shrieked as they claimed her cunt.
"OH GOD! UUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH! You fucking bitch! Look what you've done ... AAAARRRGGGGGHHHHHH!"
She felt her slot splatter as the crippling seizures took possession. Christine could scarcely keep her fist embedded, for the pussy paroxysm sought to expulse it. At the concluding wave of her frenzy, she tore free her invading appendage to the explosive finale of a fuck juice shower.
"GGGGGAAAAAAAA!"
Kathy rewarded Christine with an impassioned kiss, burrowing her tongue deeply into her mouth. Both quivered in the wondrous aftermath, sinking into the inviting waters of the Jacuzzi. The nipples of their tits seared with urgency as hunger afresh overcame them. Christine prevailed over Kathy's inspirited squeezing, her fingers ravishing the softness of her boob and affected the appropriate groans as her finger's inquisitive introduction to her saturated snatch (further exhibiting her ardor by sucking fiendishly on the cream-coated digits)!
Christine was elated with Kathy's smoldering initiation, but she couldn't refrain from visualizing other encounters, equally steamy, tantamount in quality....
CHAPTER FIVE
The bizarre assemblage at the Bare Butt Bar was comprised of Charlie Jagger, Tom Even, Gerry Domboneski and Terry McGroyn. As it happens, the congregation evolved from commiseration over their misconstrued dalliances. None purported immunity to the augmented power harvested by Suzy Baker's vaginal firmament! Each had spent himself in the torturously hot enclosure, that scintilating nestle of scented secretions that inspired the fanciful nostril. In exchange for creative license of those exemplary loins, they rendered use of their excavation equipment (in forms of oral and penile) for her intense examination. Historically, utilization of the afore mentioned apparatus invariably led to sexual enslavement! Our gaggle of satyrs were accustomed to piteous women forging an addiction to their appendants, nurturing the dick disbursement as it was allocated!
But the constraint of Suzy Baker's edict that she experience the talent of their varied phalluses only once left them shaken. Wasn't it at their discretion to elect whether a further sampling of her succulent wares was warranted? How could a woman of curvaceous attributes impose a highly preposterous ruling and sustain its recognition? Who was she to repudiate their advances, to spurn their animalistic needs, to deny the sporadic flow of seminal fluid in whatever nooks and cranies for glutinous occupation?
The tramp!
"She was the best I ever had," Charlie bemoaned, recreating their energetic session in his room. He could relatively feel her tantalizing lips encompass his pulsating cock, devouring its turgid length with virtuoso. And of the golden moment when she installed herself on his proffered rigidity, humping herself to oblivious distraction brought him to immediate hardness. Wistfully, he took a generous gulp of beer, wishing to turn back the clock.
Tom nodded. "I drowned my sorrows in scotch the day my unit regained normalcy from its corkscrew condition; up until then, I had a tangible reminder of our intimate rendezvous." The basket supporting Suzy's delectable ass as it spun imperiously onto Tom's enlarged unit hung in bleak emptiness. Somehow, it was inappropriate to have a bevy of buttocks whirl from the suspended perch in Suzy's wake. Hadn't she been ecstasized by the dizzying motion while bisected by his meaty bulk. Since her abandonment, he considered switching from basket-spinning to basket-weaving!
Gerry and Terry had synchronically been recipient of Suzy's boudoir charms in a torrid threesome of which Suzy emerged the triumvirate. Recounting the episode inevitably led to brooding, for the elusive wench had finagled her furburger into their clutches and absconded with their reproductive specimens without so much as a backward glance. Indecisiveness of whether she genuinely achieved gratification from their combined efforts culminated in a deflation of egotism.
"We had the bitch," Terry lamented, "with our dicks up her cunt, down her throat. You would have thought she was getting her fair share of prime beef in that flurry of fucking and sucking. But right after we unloaded our stuff, flooding her at both ends, she vanishes without a simple 'thank you!' How's that for gratitude?"
Gerry's compunction was of increased severity. "The way we did her ... it was special. We don't usually do some chick quite the same, but with Suzy, well ... we figured she rated. We thought...." His voice grew heavy with emotion, facing in the vortex of incessant chatter around them. But then, with brow furrowed, an aggregate look of fury in his features took command of an otherwise placid disposition! Raising his stein in the air, he brought it with resounding force to the table, basking his sympathizers in a shower of fragmented glass and beer. The feral glint in his eye emphatically declared, "Smash! Kill!"
The collective commotion about the condolatory group ceased and every pair of eyes focused on the scene of aggravated violence.
Terry, swiftly recollected his senses, gripped Gerry by the shoulders and shook him. "Get a hold of yourself buddy. No need to tear the place apart."
Gerry, however, was implacable. Extricating himself from his friend's grip, he towered over them and growled his anguish to an enthralled audience. "THE FUCKING BITCH. I'M GONNA STRANGLE HER. YOU'LL BE ABLE TO FEATHER A BIRD'S NEST WITH HER CUNT HAIR WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH HER!"
"Aw, shut up and sit down!" someone barked. "Who cares? Stay off of the sauce and you'll be just fine!"
Mutely, Gerry sunk back into his seat. Under his comrades' surveillance, he lapsed into his previous lassitude. His brain whirred and morosely, he recounted the interlude which haunted him....
He and Terry had attended the wet t-shirt competiton down at the pool the other day while reflecting upon Terry's thwarted scheme to undermine Rosemary's virtue. Though his ardent attempt to impound his Thrill Hammer in the uncharted recesses of her pussy were commendable, receiving an impromptu hand-job scarcely qualified. The one hundred dollar bounty on Rosemary's cherry remained uncollected!
"You went about it all wrong," Gerry advised. "The caveman method is ineffective with all-edged virgins. You've completely discounted tact and style. Charm and duplicity are central to seduction."
"Oh yeah? Let's see you stake your claim, buddy. Pillaging Fort Knox is a likely alternative."
"Every woman has her weak spot, and the Jabber is a heat-seeking missile! I've scored more direct hits than you'd ever imagine!"
Before Terry was afforded the opportunity for rebuttal, both he and Gerry heard a muffled cry. Though neither could be absolutely sure, the utterance, "Mother, please feed me!" seemed to register. As they peered about them to ascertain the source of the ethereal voice, they were pleasantly confronted by a buxom redhead disdainfully swatting her snatch. As the surprise of their , collective expressions swam into her view, she blushed.
"Excuse me," her flushed countenance authenticated her acute embarrassment. "Damned mosquitos!"
"We quite understand," Terry said. "They're instinctively drawn to dampness."
Gerry adroitly butted him in the ribs to disguise his unintented barb. "We thought we heard something."
"So did I. By the way, my name's Suzy Baker."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Gerry Domboneski and this is Terry McGroyn. We're vacationing here for the week."
"Obviously, you're from the Midwest. Isn't that where you get the choicest cuts of meat?" Her sultry gaze practically caressed the solidified outlines of their cocks.
"You might say that," Terry took immense pride in his equipment. "Corn-fed and cattle bred."
"Hmmmm," she mused, inspecting each bulging mound with a bewitching grope, "something for a girl to really dig her teeth into. Steak-lover's delight. Filet mignon a la carte! I'll have the extra-large portion, if you don't mind!"
Generally, a declaration of this provocative nature is indicative of an impending sexual encounter, particularly hot and acrobatic. But Suzy's pendulous moods dictated that no man sustain her attention for a period longer than necessary, and so, enticed as they were, she took flight. Gerry and Terry stood agape as she bade adieu.
"Excuse me, studs, but I've enlisted myself in the competition," she purred. "Don't you think I stand a chance of winning?"
Surveying the succulent curves and sinewy limbs, they never doubted it for a moment. Their dongs twitched in their swim trunks, making the decision unanimous. "We'll be rooting for you!"
A line of voluptuaries were positioned at the pool, bestowing their mammarian attributes to full advantage. The pretified pretenders primped and stretched in preliminary stances, hoping to secure the judge's vote as the throng gathered. The bikinis they donned emphasized cleavage and exposed hip, some barely comvering nipples or pubic thatches. Their ravishing poses promoted a level of frivolity the event demanded, with inspirited cries from the crowd coaxing them to vampish affectation.
"Hey, tramp, come sit on my face!"
"I'll fuck that one, and that one, and ... that one!"
"Yo, babe, how'd you like ten inches of sheer pleasure?"
"Ten bucks says I do the bitch second from the end after this goddamn contest is over!"
T-shirts were then distributed, bearing the motif: DANGEROUS WHEN WET! Synchronously with the customary drum roll, the girls bared their backs to the avid audience and shed their bikini tops, to be replaced by the T-shirts. The hushed silence captured the multitude of unfastened snaps and the tormenting vista of evenly-tanned flesh.
"Oh shit!" proclaimed a lecherous male, "I'm already stiff, but I think I'm gonna leak!"
"Then get the fuck away from me!" scowled his disgusted friend.
Gerry and Terry's stringent gaze never wavered from the tantalizing strut of Suzy Baker, who was garnering wolf-whistles by the dozens. They absorbed the delectable cheeks of her ass, riveted to the sweet curve sweeping toward the tempting crack and tapering to long, shapely legs which could provide material for three wet dreams. When she unclasped her bikini top, scores of men endured what is commonly cited as " mental orgasm," their eyes glued to the appetizing visage until the garment was completely peeled from her body and the t-shirt obstructed their view.
"Christ, I want to do her," Terry muttered.
"You and me both," Gerry concurred.
The epicurean contestants, suitably attired, extended their busoms for watery resiliency.
"Wet down those tits!" the crowd rallied.
S-P-L-A-S-H! S-P-L-A-S-H! S-P-L-A-S-H!
As the buckets were flung, individual commentary was rampant. The dampened t-shirts, plastered to the proffered torso, borrowed ripe definition to the rippling promontories, the swell of boob precipitously hanging from each heavenly perch. The trickling residue sustained the erotic imagination as each awaited her pronounced sentence.
"Jesus Christ, that one wore falsies. Kick the bitch out!"
"Hmmmmm, that one tossed the water right back. Ten bucks says she did silicone!"
"Oh shit, I did leak!"
"Man, you got a serious problem! Now get outta here!"
"I wanna bury my head in that set of tits and hibernate!"
"Fuck the pencil test! You could shove a typewriter between those babies and it wouldn't fall!"
Suzy, as predicted, elicited the most favorable responses. The drenched shirt molded against her magnificent chest accentuated the plushness of her lofty pairing. Water still dribbled through the peaks and valleys created, wringing through the luscious labyrinth of her mammary maze. The nipples protruded dramatically through the scant fabric, affording the billowy excess with appropriate punctuation. By popular vote, her titties were the most acclaimed!
"Annette Funicello, eat your heart out!" Suzy threw bountiful kisses to her admirers as she was awarded a bottle of Taittinger's.
Gerry and Terry abandoned their lustful illusions of grandeur as the affirmed love goddess presided over the spouted accolades of her sychophants. The phrases "intemperately sensual" and "torturously seductive" were inadequate in describing the fervor she exuded. Before the day was through, Suzy could procure the services of every qualified stud on Desire Island. The feasibility of their gaining access to her superior loins was dour!
But just as a curtain of harsh reality dropped, Suzy spirited herself through the raging throng and engaged the dejected pair. "I'm bored. Let's blow this pop stand and party!"
Gerry and Terry were thoroughly ecstasized by her sudden proposal. They exchanged glances which implied, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!"
Muffled in the background of the roaring crowd, a small voice implored, "Mother, if you don't feed me this minute, I'll scream! Yaaaaaaaa!"
Suzy, the paragon of discretion and dispatch, stated her preference of adjourning to their hotel suite for a "private celebration." From her smoldering tone, the two gathered it was to be one hell of a feast.
The prized bottle of Taittinger's was uncorked and its bubbly contents poured into glasses for the frolicking trio. Suzy sipped the sparkling foaminess, tracing the rim with her tongue. Flicking her eyes from left to right at their straining hard-ons, she ravenously smacked her lips. From her ardent candor, it could only be concluded that she meant serious business.
"You two are old enough," she droned breathlessly. "I wouldn't want to contribute to the delinquency of minors."
Gerry laughed. "Are you kidding? We're both twenty-two."
"Are we talking inches or years?"
The carnal cousins delved into scintilating strategem as Suzy executed a flamboyant striptease, replete with bump and grind. Firstly, she unclasped her bikini top, gathering the fleshy excess in its berth to underscore her wealth of mammilla! She indulged herself with the intensity of her spectators' searing gaze before releasing both brassiere and busom in wild abandon. The protrusion of nipple from her magnificent udders quickened their pulses and spurred the urge for tit-suckling. Suzy's endowment of gigantesque jugs inspired the fanciful palate.
"Not a bad set of knockers, eh?" she jested, pinching the swollen nuggets to impel salivation. "I'm sure you'd prefer testing their suckability!"
Gerry and Terry were fraught with penile palpitations, assessing the surmountable task of fucking the shit out of this recalcitrant tramp. Wasn't she comprehensive to the fact that her suave manner was an irritant to their pituitary glands? Pudd, effectively jammed in to pertinent orifices of her delicious body, would reestablish her jaded values. With mouths afroth, they secretly plotted the punishment of her pussy utilizing whang weaponry!
Suzy, too preoccupied with disrobing to detect mounting disparity, launched into a theatrical rendition of "Madame Butterfly" with the divestiture of her bikini's lower portion. Thumbs, beating to a snappy rhythm, tucked themselves into the elasticized rim and eased the flimsy garment from her pandering pubis! The sight of natural fur caused a sudden heart murmur!
"Christ!" Gerry and Terry expounded.
Nonchalantly, the bottoms traversed the tanned thighs, slipping past the shapely knees and ending their destination in a discarded pile beside its companion piece. Suzy stood before them in full naked resplendence, baring box and boob to their exultation.
The musky redolence of furburger fragrance assaulted the nostril. Without the necessity of prefatory exploration, one could unmistakably conclude the superfluity of beaver by-product.
Smoothing her fingers over the thick protrusion of Terry's groin, Suzy grinned with satisfaction. Nothing equalled the thrill of stroking the pulsating mass of cockmeat before its exposure. Avariciously, she groped the throbbing mound, detecting Terry's receptiveness to inquisition!
"Mmmmm," she crooned, "this will feel marvelous up my snatch!"
"That's exactly where it's going," he mumbled as his stiffened member became liberated from the swim trunks.
Suzy's eyes grew large with excitement as the protracted length of Terry's shaft was grappled. "Oh my ... you're huge! Very huge! Painfully huge!"
The dispensation of compliments wasn't conducive to what Terry desired. Fondling the elongated Thrill Hammer, he prepared its deployment to her ovary oasis! "Come here," he grunted, already arranging her hindquarters for rear-entry, "nice and easy."
Suzy assumed the introductory position, letting the curve of her ass beckon to his vast boner. Doggie-style was exceptionally stirring. "There's quite a bit to handle ... but I'll try!"
The bloated head of the Thrill Hammer was propped at her honey pot's entrance, the division of love lips honoring its presence. A trickle of woman juice slithered from the crack, attesting to her proficiency of lubrication. Apparently, the little slut welcomed the opportunity to enclose his massive girth in her steamy gash. Well, his bounty of beef was indeed plentiful, so gladly would she reap its vast rewards!
Terry gripped the plush posterior and felt the surge of power coarse through his veins! A beatific smile creased his mouth as he elevated himself for admission! Hoarsely, he bellowed, "RAMMING SPEED!"
Gerry raptly watched as Terry plunged into her cunt, smacking her rump mightily as her anal embankment literally consumed his petrified impalement!
"OMIGOD!" Suzy moaned, vaginally ingesting the pillar of penetration as it was sent home! Immediately, she was overwhelmed by the impact of congealed dick as it was vertically distributed along her twat tract. "Ohhhhhhh! It's so big in me ... it's hurting!"
"Relax and enjoy your take," he crooned, steadily feeding the Thrill Hammer to her hot, compressed hole. The constriction of her sluiced opening lent a propitious effect to the lumbering tool as he did her. The driving bulk of bone would invariably disseminate the tightness of her passage, leaving her hairpie an excavated crater! Methodically, inch by inch of turgid prick ground into the quivering receptacle, deriving untold tumult in infiltrating her furburger. The column of congelation thrusted repeatedly into Suzy's stricken loins, harvesting pussy pandemonium.
Suzy, immersed in the subjugation of her slot, relented to the far-reaching rod as Terry laid pipe like nobody's business. Crouching on knees and elbows, she evoked a slew of whimpers which related her present anguish. Terry's brusque impalement of her entrapment muscle could hardly be censured, as the regalement she procured was whole. She thrashed her fiery red mane in wanton retaliation, engrossed with the bludgeoning bridge that coupled them. The throttling weight of Terry's corporeal frame caused her to slump even further on her trembling haunches at the further enrattlement of her receiving bank.
Gerry, afflicted with hose inflammation, found residing amid the festivities intolerable without his active participation. The Jabber vibrated with mounting frustration, demanding instantaneous release and embedment into an unoccupied hole. Since access to her cunt (and rectum, by the default properties of doggie-style) was eliminated, Gerry focused upon her mouth. A blow-job was decidedly a worthy consolation prize.
The extraction of his aroused dong was accompanied by a complimentary whistle from Suzy. She marveled at the outstretch of solidification as it jutted significantly from his groin. "My, my, aren't I the lucky girl! Haul that motherfucker over here, stud, and give Mama a throat massage!"
Parting her hungering lips, she greedily accepted the prof erred appendage in a steady gobble. Her aperature accommodated its extraordinary length, filling her oral cavity to its limit.
Gerry groaned at the sensation of warm saliva and hot breath on his enlargement. "Oh baby, take it ... aaaaallllll! Suck my big thing! Blow me. Eat it!" The rapid interpolation of his hips was accentuated by her sexual gluttony. Suzy took him deeply into her throat while handling the massacre of meat. The magnitude of the excitement in progress exceeded belief. Suzy was orally-and-vaginally-plugged betwixt their pumping peckers, ensnared by mouth and muff, her freedom predicated upon their achiving aggregate orgasm. He and Terry were ensconced in double-duty and loving every fucking second of it.
Suzy's cream-releasing glands functioned at maximum productivity, gushing slot solution to facilitate the containment of cartilage. Muff-meal was replenished. Terry's harrowing polevaults into her viscid muscle-relaxer were assigned guttral screams when Suzy extricated her suctioning orifice from Gerry's distended dick; concurrently, the Jabber was recipient to Suzy's collapsible jowls, with teeth tucked, tongue bared and spittle afloat!
"Jesus, don't stop!" Gerry gasped as the upper portion of his cock slipped down her trachea. "Let it go ... all the way down!" Applaudably, this was headgiving at its best.
Terry was lost in the flood of moisture and gelantious tissue, pounding his hard-on into the network of pussy pectoral and beaver biceps. Suzy's snatch was so thoroughly inundated with girl goo that the Thrill Hammer sloshed, rather than poked through her love canal. To ensure his balance, he bound his arms to her waist, riding her sweet buttocks with the stamina of a bull. "I'm gonna do you good, bitch! Gonna fill your hot crack with jism!"
Suzy's muffled squeals confirmed her delight with his denounement (notification of a deluge inescapably coaxed her to creaming)!
The two young men sweltered as their loins labored, assaulting their sexual captive at both ends! In one socket, out the other, Suzy thrived in her sandwich predicament. There was a sufficient quantity of beef absorbed by her body to nourish a starving pack of dogs. Suzy luxuriated in her post, offering her lovers whichever outlet was available in consummating their volcanic urges. The final spurting of their seminal discharge, however, would signal the termination of their relationship! Despite the quality of the arrested performance, Suzy never attempted to duplicate her efforts with the same individual (or the plurality of, as evidenced in this case).
From the perspiration dripping from their temples, both Gerry and Terry were thwarting the inevitability of climax. Tormenting emanations from their balls casted the fate that rod remittance would surely follow.
The rinse of organ ointment contained in Suzy's cunt solicited Terry's contractions. He gripped her elusive hips and slammed his groin into her firm asscheeks before ejaculating his load. The fuck fluid shot from his convulsing cock as a cannon expulsed its cannonball in retaliation. He poured his seed into her box while howling his disgruntlement. "Tart! Wench! Cunt!"
Gerry's spasmodic conclusion was highly theatrical. His features were contorted as he delivered his gooey allotment to that awaiting larynx. "Gulp that nutmeg. Suck that shaft.
Mouthwash that meatpipe! Choke down that bone brew! Wet your whistle on my whang. Grease your gills. Swallow that stuff. Quench your thirst. Eat my cream. Aaaaarrrgggghhhhhhh!"
Gerry tightly squeezed his eyes as he consigned cock custard to Suzy's digestive tract. Whang whorsteshire whooshed down her windpipe in a scalding torrent, thick rocket rinse firing into her oral orbit! Holding her hair as one would a horse's reins, he siphoned an influx of prick pudding to her esophageal sperm bank. Her vocal cords would be submerged in dong dilution.
The dicks of the depleted duo finally disengaged from furry and frothy fulcrum, their energy diminished. Recovery was not swift, especially from the dramatic loss of hormones. But when the smoke, so to speak, finally parted; when their strength was renewed and their prowess restored; when they regained equilibrium and their testosterones had regenerated, they were jarred to discover that Suzy Baker had vanished!
In place of the buxom beauty who reared posterior and mouth for the express purpose of their fulfullment with a glistening puddle of semen. They gazed at each other with blank reflections, bewildered by her hasty exit and more importantly, by a strange, distant voice which preceded the mass exodus of their reproductive fluid:
"Thank you for these gifts, for which we are about to receive, by Thy bounty, Amen!"
CHAPTER SIX
Rosemary inventoried her beach paraphernalia before speeding her departure to sun, sand and slanderous sentiment uttered by the male sector of the island. Designer lenses accessorized a bathing suit which enhanced her ripe, tanned body and high-heeled sandals accentuated the lusciousness of her calves. She caught a complimentive glimpse in a vanity mirror that affirmed her nubility would be debated among the lecherous throng. Wicked candor was particularly prevalent at the pool, where salivation and groping set the moral precedent. Having frequented the area (as did many a siren), she subtantiated the determinant that mens' interest lay principally in the protractive muscle between their legs (what impudent swine they were)!
On the verge of making her flamboyant exit, she addressed Kathy, who gazed forlornly at her reflection. "Aren't you coming with me?"
"I love to ... but my hair looks like shit." She flicked an errant curl in disgust to punctuate the remark.
Rosemary sighed tolerantly. "You're perfectly fine. Come on, we'll both make a splashy entrance."
"No! God...." she lamented, raking clawed nails through her fiery mane, "it'll take hours to whip into shape!"
"I can wait, then. I'd only be subjecting myself to depraved commentary, which is basically mild fare. Besides, I prefer spiritual reinforcements." Kathy's presence generally deflected gregarious annotations and redirected them toward herself.
Her best friend, however, glared contemptuously. "Why would you require protection? I thought the express purpose of our vacation here was to alleviate a certain problem. Unless...."
Rosemary paled in the light of truth. "I can't feign passion with someone I barely know. The thought of letting some strange man pawing me ... much less, risking the threat of bacteria to my system...."
Kathy, the paragon of commiseration, sighed. "It's really quite a simple procedure, darling: after spreading your legs, a stiff cock will swoop into the cleared area, travel toward your hairpie; become lodged in the furry enclosure, embedding thickness in the narrow canal, and, steadily driving through the entrapment muscle, will continue hollowing-out gelatinous tissue until the crown of its arterial armor-plated head performs a puncturing wound to the hymen, thus signaling the end of your fucking virginity."
"I appreciate the vote of sympathy."
"Haven't you been burdened long enough with a blocked beaver? Whoever deflowers you will be brushing cobwebs off his prick. Why, you could have broken-in your first cock before you were out of a training bra!"
The harsh edge of her indictment raised her conscience. Rosemary knew the soul of a pagan goddess lurked within, awaiting release. During moments when she felt especially weak, the wanton spirit almost emerged victorious. The lure of hard male flesh, piercing her chastity, penetrating her hermetic sealing left her in a heated pant. She longed for the burial of rigid genitalia, having it engulf her innards, taking possession of her hot cavity, thrilling to its ecstasizing thrusts before emitting its full potential. If it weren't for Dr. Miller and his dreaded medical examination (with her mother pronouncing her a tramp from the sidelines), she would welcome these hedonistic inclinations.
Rosemary was also at the height of her dejection as she regarded Kathy's sardonicism. What had become of her childhood friend? In their youth, Kathy displayed an extraordinary perspicacity for erotic awareness. In their prepubescent years, Kathy had a penchant for simulating sexual encounters with her Barbie dolls during pajama parties. Rosemary realized with acute embarrassment how the other girls watched on with mounting horror and repugnancy as Kathy positioned Ken above Barbie and breathlessly gasped for effect. "Oh, Ken, no, don't do that ... please, stop, you'll get us in trouble. Oh! Oh! Ooooh! Ohhhhh Christ! No! Oh! Oh! Get off of me before it's too late ... Oh! Oh! No more! Nooooo...." As Kathy's guttural rasp reached screeching levels (and inspired the curiosity of the mother in the next room, who wondered why it was necessary to lock the door), she began to violently shake the dolls to allude impending orgasm (or something equally wonderful, as the girls had only a vague understanding of what was actually occurring). The smirks and grimaces on their innocent faces gradually melted into one of enlightment and awe as Kathy sent the dolls thrashing to the floor, bellowing in defiance as they careened against the linoleum and bore witness to the miracle of plasticized gratification. Staring down at the disposed figures, the girls erupted into delighted applause and congratulated Kathy for her inventive contribution of the evening.
Rosemary had endured the Barbie doll abuse as a symbol of her loyalty to Kathy despite being plagued with worries that she was indescribably demented. Friends offered support and promoted even their most heinous deeds (as evidenced with Barbie and Ken) as expressions of creative flair. Now, having advanced to adulthood, Rosemary's allegiance was repaid with sheer bitchery for which she was totally unworthy. How could Kathy serve her with unjustice?
Of course, why would you assume compassion from someone with relatively little respect for her Barbie dolls?
"I'll be at the beach if you change your mind," she murmured as she withdrew from malign company, swaying her considerable assets.
Upon the heels of her departure, Kathy's melancholia dissolved as she applied the deadbolt to the door and produced from the depths of a bureau drawer a six-cylinder vibrator!
Bbbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Ah, the beauty of modern technology. With one flick of the finger, exquisite pleasure could be had. Initially, she had packed the cuntal contraption in anticipation of a scarcity of serviceable studs (though one should have her brain examined when accounting for the vast penile resources yet to be tapped on the island), but it was the hunger for pussy that drove her to her frustrated state. She disliked her rudeness toward Rosemary (whose droning of virtue was enough to contemplate pistol-whipping), but her hormones were definitely thrown off kilter by her sensational awakening at the depraved genius of Christine Martin. Previously, lesbian tendencies were deemed vile, hideous interpretations of love by imbalanced women. Kathy could scarcely envision quenching her ill-gotten thirst on a juicy snatch, but Christine had proven her a beaver boozer. Once she'd slurped that first furburger, it was all down hill!
Kathy examined the vibrator before applying it to her humping humidifier and surmised that it resembled a deranged version of an egg-beater (if so, the better with which to make eggnog)! Intensity of orgasm predicated upon the level of sustained excitement, and since masturbation was her single option, a stimulating fantasy would fetch related results. Kathy mentally perused her erotic glossary, scanning for the appropriate mood (and feeling much like the proprietress of a pornographic video establishment without the criterion of Beta versus VHS)! Was she seeking sadomasochism fervor, incestual spirit or barnyard favorites? At length, she selected a forbidden category, one which procured the most pleasure: "lesbo love!"
BBBBBBBbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzz!
Kathy settled into a supine position, thighs splayed open, red tresses strewn across the pillow as she lowered the gash gadget to its throbbing target. Her clitoris was splendidly reactive to the oscilatory tip, causing her to shudder as it made wonderful contact. Gritting her teeth, she half-buried her face in the bedding as her hips undulated to a rapturous rhythm. Her sodden box swirled with girl goo, the syrupy rinse coursing from her crevice much like Old Faithful. As she moaned her regalement into the tepid air, her mind wandered to impelling heights....
Her reverie began on a simple note, with Kathy detained at the office to minister a backlog of work. Her desk is inundated with files and although she is consumed with completing the task, she is rankled by the lateness of the hour. Because of her dedication and professional integrity, her social life languishes. Her fellow peers, having vacated the premises, are imbibing cocktails at a maddening rate in the downstairs lounge and busily attending to the dictates of the pituitary gland while she is slaving over scattered repositories! She is, needless to say, disenchanted with her evening's agenda.
Her solitariness sparks other, profound emotions. She begins to sense, through gradation, the vacancy between her legs and an overt desire to have it filled with hard, pulsing cock. Kathy suspends the moment with sensual imagery, beseeching the penile occupation of her hot slot. Her aroused clitoris tingles from the vision of slowly impaling herself on a thick protrusion, the swollen offering achieving swift penetration as the slick walls of her cunt are veritably lined with ball bearings.
In the clutch of her fantasy, Kathy is stricken with an uncontrollable urge to slip fingers into the sopping wet panties and give herself a vigorous frigging. Yet, as much as her expert judgement is impaired, she is haunted by the probability that someone might reappear and bear witness of her self-abuse. Since Kathy has worked dilligently in earning her esteem, it was viewed impractical to be caught jiggling herself. Still, the temptation of instant gratification was (excuse the pun) at hand....
Bbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
As it happens, Kathy's boss, Rita Dellano, breezes into the area after a prolonged meeting, thereby circumventing muff molestation. Kathy immerses herself in the assemblage of files and refocuses on expediency. If she can only get through three more folders, she might be able to join the others in the lounge and salvage what is left of a sabotaged evening....
Though she endeavors to fulfill her goal, the sumptuous vision of Rita's fantastic ass spirits her gaze from the scores of paper, posted to its delectable contours. Rita is endowed with a pair of buns that transcend any garment she wears, drawing emphasis to their curvaceous form. Kathy, an astute observer, acknowledges the eloquent calibre of her posterior and has mused secretly over many a chablis its appearance undraped. When Rita saunders by, she captures the undivided lust of her employees via buttock gyration.
Once again, the nectarous flow of beaver byproduct spills in frothy profusion from her cunt's interior. Her love button issues the proclamation that digital manipulation is obligatory. Her trembling fingers seize a pencil (the first object within vicinity) and, fraught in feverish delirium, she directs the eraser end toward her soaked panties. Will she succumb to the overwhelming vigor of prurience and bring abomination upon herself by jabbing her clit, or should she calmly place the pencil down and prevail over her susceptibility? Will a vituperative Rita snarl her wrath as the writing instrument seeks out the orificial ornament which can render her loins insolvent of their wickedness and deflect its path! Will a profane Kathy weather the shame of crippling contractions as the pencil ignites hairpie horsepower and furburger fireworks at Rita's utter dismay?
Can a goddamn pencil even do that?
Before the pencil can be prompted into action, Rita (sashaying her gorgeous rump) rests her hands on Kathy's shoulders and commences with a cultured back massage. Kathy can scarcely repress groans as nimble fingers stroke her aching flesh. Her whimpering articulation is the very provocation Rita requires to bring seduction to its next tormenting level. As her pliable hands extend themselves into the firmness of her upper torso, Rita applies stimulating pressure to her breasts. Kathy quivers as her mammaries are mauled and drops the pencil (so much for that, anyway), then exhales a series of sharp, husky moans through wettened lips. Rita's manual movements accellerate, urging her to sputter ecstasy for their combined enjoyment. Kathy's booths are eompressibly resilient, withstanding their intense interogation. Consigned to hornified dementia, Kathy tells her of her swollen nipples and of the harmonious administration of forefinger and thumb necessary for Rita to derive optimum gratification (after all, if she was on a roll, she might as well get a little coaching from the sidelines)!
Rita was to solicit no supervision in her erotic assault. Instead, she abruptly swiveled Kathy's chair so that the two women confronted each other and without further adieu, plunged her tongue into Kathy's mouth (which was agape from indignation of having her nipples ignored and Rita's sudden extrication of masseuse detail)! Kathy swooned as Rita flicked at her tonsils and gradually relented in her malice as she adapted to this auspiciously oral invasion. A woman's blabber probing her throat culture was a propitious gesture, compelling the procreation of organ ointment in her panting pussy. Though orally ensconced, Rita launched into another session of digital disbursement of Kathy's titties. Kathy whined as she was getting her knockers squeezed, reclining in her chair's capacity while Rita feverishly mounted her. The influx of slot solution not only drenched her panties, but was soaking her skirt.
BBbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Rita, displaying adventurous vitality, withdrew one of her hands and brutally shoved a finger into Kathy's sodden hole (mind you, Rita hadn't bothered to remove the dampened panties, instead perforating the fabric with her nail and plowing her member in one, violent motion). Kathy retaliated by kicking her typewriter from her desk and sent it crashing to the floor amid a barrage of electrical flashes.
"Oooohhhhhh!" she declared aloud in windless awe as she feeds the vibrator to her raging clitoris, "rough trade!" Briefly, she wondered if this machine wasn't batteried-operated and rather functioned with spark plugs!
Oh well, back to the fantasy....
Bbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Zestfully, Rita thrusted her finger into Kathy's steam pit while their mouths were locked in agonized splendor. Kathy found she was deprived of an outlet in which to vent her squelched screams, as her boss was sucking the very breath from her windpipes while digging in her ditch. Still, the inhabitation of her appendage wasn't summarily a poor elective, as Kathy's clitoris was granted direct satisfaction (whereas the pencil, had it found gainful employment in her cunt, would have ineffectively scratched at the sensitized love button)!
The fingering of Kathy's cooze proved to be a preliminary ordeal as Rita, tremulous on spiked heels, hoisted her up and deposited her squirming ass atop her desk (the woman was truly a reservoir of strength)! Since Kathy's panties carried a single hole in the crotch area, it was a simple feat for her to again claw the fabric with a protrusive nail and sever the remnant covering to her dank chamber. Revealing a serpentine tongue, she descended upon heavenly hairpie-hash and feasted upon unfurled fur!
Slurp! Slurp! Sssssssllluurrrrrpppppp!
Kathy, previously recipient to Rita's mobile extemities, was now ecstasized by her repertoire of cunnilgual skills. Squirting pussy juice onto Rita's aperature, she crooned approval at the softening flicks to her sluiced innards. The taste of loin leakage flavored Rita's palate as readily as its wondrous essence was consumed by her nostrils. Rita suckled the torrent of beaver brew as it oozed from her creamy crevice, sampling its delectability with volatile lips. Kathy gasped in rapturous bliss as she periodically ripped strands of hair from Rita's scalp in guiding the passionate ministrations of her tongue (i.e. no, not there; here!)
Kathy writhed and undulated from Rita's proficiency as her reserve of woman rinse was siphoned from her hole! She babbled unintellible invectives as fountainous froth was dutifully lapped by a laboring tongue (and contemplated the permanent attachment of Rita's head to the nestle of her furry plummage)! Rita's stamina was indefatiguable as she rippled over the besotted entrance, ingesting the surge of muff moisture. Each succulent flick escalated Kathy's pleasure (and left a pool of womb residue on the disbanded files across her desk)!
Alas, the moment approached in which Kathy knew reciprocation was a matter of courtesy, but with her hands and mouth incapacitated, she was met with an artistic challenge! Adroitly, Kathy dangled her shoe from her toe, then with the panache of a skilled archer, ejected it with a sharp kick. The shoe, as it invested with supernatural properties, hurled between Rita's thigh until its high-heel sailed through parted vaginal lips and became lodged!
Rita rewarded Kathy's erotic ettiquette with an ardent brushing to her agitated clitoris. The pandering of her humping humidifier was perceptibly drawing her closer to climax. Kathy knew prolonging her pleasure was an impossibility and voiding the dissipative emanations inescapable!
She howled her perturbation into the office enclosure (rattling the staplers and vibrating paperclips) while fraught in the grip of hellish spasms. Rita bore defiantly into her convulsing nest, enhancing the induction of seizures. Kathy's twat was ablaze with cuntal conflagration as the luminosity of her loins flared.
Shutting her eyes, she imagines her entire body spinning through a vortex of searing urgency with Rita's head clamped firmly between her legs, sprinkling cunt juice in torrential force as she crosses the threshold to a magnificent conclusion....
Bbbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Upon awakening from rapturous ruminations and feebly disposing of the vibrator, Kathy is amazed to see that a large portion of her pillow and some of the bedding are crammed into her pussy. Delicately, she extracts the saturated linens from her box, sighing as they are pulled from their juicy clutch.
Kathy is resolute in overcoming her lesbian affliction, as she worries that at the termination of her next exotic flight of fancy, her mattress may wind up plugging her snatch.
Christine Martin stood at the entrance to the Bare Butt Bar and surveyed the availability of snatch for inventive purposes. She chose for the occasion an enticing ensemble which the saleswoman assured carried full sensual value. Christine's appetite for fresh pussy equalled a vampire's thirst for blood, so consummate was her hunger. And similar to the noctural creature, she wanted her victims only once, reveling in their initiation into the dark world of lesbianism. Thus far, a variety of bimbos had fallen prey to her mysterious charm and whether it was due to curiosity or submerged proclivities, she was undecided. The artistry of her tongue and dexterity of touch challenged the abilities of an enthusiastic male, with Christine reigning supreme. She claimed to be the catalyst of proposed decadence, the purveyor of immoral deeds. If another woman doubted her inherent power, Christine bared her tongue and watched as her observer crumpled into pale silence from its magnitude of authority.
Swaying fashionable hips, arching her spine to boast perfectly rounded cleavage, Christine assessed the conclave of felines flanking the bar area and ventured as to who would carve the next notch on her bedpost. The determinants of blonde, red-hair or brunette in addition to their buxom measurements were largely considered.
As she plotted as to who would be promoted her next sychophant, the jarring laughter of a boisterous female thoroughly rattled her. The familiarity of its melodious tone immediately alerted her. As she glanced to the source of the officious voice, she was rankled as her identity was established.
Olivia Barrett, her divorce lawyer and premiere lover, had come to Desire Island. Christine had ascertained, before her departure that Olivia was still recovering in the hospital from their first encounter, but evidentally, her muff was fully mended. Olivia's very ubiquity threatened Christine's recruitment of innocent beaver. No seduction could be marked as her creation if traces of Olivia's saliva tainted a prescribed pussy. Where Christine had thought she'd retained a monopoly on muff, she found her camp infiltrated. Competition was the last thing she needed, so in emerging the victor, she had to outdistance her enemy factions!
Clicking spiked heels along the bar's linoleum, Christine prepared to do verbal (and if required, physical) battle in securing custodial rights to corruptible cunt! She vaguely noted the fairness of the young girl clad in a scant bikini who antimately conversed with her arch nemisis!
"I feel positively guilty for leaving poor Simone in a kennel so I could go on this vacation," Olivia garnered sympathy. "She's more than a cat, than my pet ... she's the only family I've left. When those green eyes recognized my abandonment, I grew misty...."
Christine, glaring defiance, shuddered with rage. The Anti-Cruelty Society would condemn the bitch. Spouting the virtues of some goddamn cat, will she? A woman who would inaugurate an illicit passage using the premise of a fucking house animal was beneath contempt.
"Poor Simone," she lamented. "My poor baby...."
With an outstretched finger indicating fraudulence, Christine interjected. "Is that thing still alive? Do yourself a favor and put it in front of the lawn mower!"
The young girl, visibly stunned by Christine's censure, shrank in her seat. Olivia, however, swiftly regained her composure and with hands plainly resting on shapely hips, sought revenge.
"Well, if it isn't the Queen of Castro Street!" she clucked in sinister reply. "Tell me, darling, has the gay community elected you Honorary Den Mother?"
Christine addressed the girl. "You're wasting your time with her, honey. All you're going to find is Geritol in her withered cunt. You'd score a better lay in a Convalescent Home!"
Color draining from her face, the girl made a speedy exit.
"You're a fine one to make mention of age. If my memory serves me correctly, your hairpie is in dire need of a face lift. And even that would predicate upon whether it was worth saving that dried up old thing. I've detected more liquid content in a piece of dehydrated fruit!"
A throng of people arranged themselves around the harranguing duo, lending their ears to the litany of insults from two proclaimed dykes. Money exchanges hands as wagers were made in guessing who would land the first blow!
Christine, thriving upon bitchy repartee, stalked her quarry with poised talons. "Did you think you could fleece a little wool from the flock? Why you haven't pursued the profession of sheepherder is beyond me!"
Olivia, an expert at dispensing malice, stood her ground. "I'm surprised you're even out on the prowl. Aren't you forgetting your old dowarger habits? Normally you'd be sitting at home, cleaning out a purse. Or is knotting socks a welcome alternative?"
"Ha! Even if I were comatose for several months, it'd still be the best you ever had!"
"Believe me, toots, the sweet wine it once was is now putrid vinegar!"
Christine fetched a beer stein from the bar counter and sent it hurling toward Olivia's head. "The stitches will be an improvement!"
Dodging it with the celerity of an accomplished stuntman, Olivia kicked two tables and viciously shoved several chairs aside to clear the area for bloodshed. "Come on, bitch. Let's settle this with a little fisticuffs. You won't survive a single round!" She clenched her fists like a prized boxer and jockeyed into position.
"Nail the bulldyke!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"Let her taste your knuckles!"
"Punch her lights out!"
An enthusiast tossed Christine a beer bottle which she caught with ease. Holding it by its neck, she cracked it open against an adjacent table and heralded the ugly weapon with which to fence. The crowd went wild at the sight of the jagged edge in her deadly embrace.
Olivia, not to be upstaged, was also bestowed a beer bottle, which she transformed into lethal armament.
"En garde!" she hissed.
Christine swung first, her aim swift and true, but Olivia was unquestionably a resourceful opponent. Broken glass whistled past her ear as she exchanged swipes. Hopping onto a table, she held her rival at bay long enough to gain leverage, then booting her high heel into deft arc, she disarmed Christine.
"Surrender, Dorothy!" she cackled haughtily. "Get out of town by sunset ... or else!"
Christine scowled. "You haven't foiled me yet." With that, she grabbed the edge of the table and sent Olivia toppling. Olivia screamed as she fell from her perch, relinquishing her weapon in the process. Christine wasted no time in tackling the demobilized woman, pinioning her shoulders to the floor.
"Get off me, tramp!" she snarled.
"You're out of here, bitch. You're through. Time to clear out. On the double!"
Olivia sighed, admitted defeat, but even as she trudged from the scene of her adject humiliation, she vowed to settle accounts with her former lover!
CHAPTER SEVEN
The inebriated figures of Charlie Jagger and a young woman (whose name has escaped his mental grasp, given a vast consumption of alcohol) stumbled into a darkened hotel suite in a flourish of shushing and giggles.
Prior to their adjournment to private quarters, the pair witnessed the inflammatory exchange between Christine Martin and Olivia Barrett while separately having cocktails at the bar. As the brouhaha culminated, they glanced at each other while in fits of laughter and toasted the incumbent winner. Wagers were being placed by an entourage of sparring enthusiasts in favor of Christine. The spectacle of two lesbians, firmly established in their forties, locked in mortal combat was unanimously the event of the season! At the festivity's conclusion, Charlie purchased fresh drinks for the two of them and together, they reiterated its highlights.
After several refills, conversation alluded to sexual experimentation to be conducted elsewhere.
Her Gallic features intrigued him, with long sandy hair and cornflower blue eyes, but it was her other qualities that brought recognition. Though his brain was convoluted with distilled temperance, there was no mistaking the succulent crest of asscheek, the prominent swell of busom, the muscles calves and sinewy thighs. Charlie stiffened within proximity of that luscious pubis tucked neatly into a bikini and could veritably feel the sweet recoil of her groin at the penetrating thrusts of his cock.
As bare feet pattered across the floor, their mirth dissipated into mounting anticipation as primitive hungers flared. The girl (Mary/Meredith/ Myrtle?) quickly discarded her flimsy garment and settled into a prone position on the bed. Charlie managed to dispose of his swim trunks, but not without some difficulty. Though he bore a tremendous hard-on, his comprehension was slightly dulled and vision somewhat imparied. Subconsciously, he knew he wanted to fuck this woman (Mary/Meredith/Myrtle?), to feel her soft body undulate beneath him, to have her sodden crevice absorb the length of his engorgement and afford him with pleasure. His prick, he was certain, was quite functional (and not afflicted with the dreaded whiskey dick, as is the case for some men), but his judgement was reduced in value. There existed a distinct possibility that he'd discover two cunts lurking between her legs!
"Come here, baby," the woman (Mary/ Meredith/Myrtle?) moaned, cajoling him to the bed.
Charlie obeyed her command and promptly collapsed over her reposed form. She had, as prognasticated, the smoothest buttocks against which he'd ever ground his organ. The stretch of petrified meat rested along her sumptuous crack!
"Mmmmmm," came her throaty retort, "I sure would love to feel that big thing in my pussy. You'd like it, too; I'm really tight!"
Charlie conjured the last time he'd sent his tool into sweet quarters. It was at (Mary/ Meredith/Myrtle's?) suggestion that he pound pork up her tiny pussyhole, sweatily offering her cunt to his jutting hammer. The coupling was hot and exciting, with Charlie creaming excessively. The prospect of mating in similar fashion echoed an acclamatory response in his groin!
Charlie was in full compliance. "I'm gonna fuck you until I come inside you. Gonna fill you with hot seed!"
"Oh yes!" she implored. "You're to fuck me as hard as you can. Make me sore. I want my cunt to ache from your driving cock!"
Further into her snatch he sunk, feeding his measure of hornified hose into her warm enclosure. Charlie groaned his approval of her hot constriction, the taut muscles challenging the passage of dick. Feverishly, he groped her billowy excess, squeezing the bloated nuggets as he gained purchase of her pretty pussy.
"Yes!" was her suplicant decree. "Do it now!"
"Aaaargggghhh! Ugghhhh!" Like the detonation of a megaton blast, Charlie discharged his ejaculate into her sweet abode, bellowing reparatively as the onslaught of spasms purged his reproductive system. Hot urgency spewed into her tummy. His thick seed was volcanically dispatched to her inner recesses, the expulsion of viscous rinse correcting the level of his hormonal constitution!
While acquiring fuck fluid in her receptacle, the girl (Mary/Meredith/Myrtle?) violently convulsed from digital ministation. Charlie's manual expertise to her agitated clitoris rendered her into orgasmic oblivion, affording her with multiple contractions. She brayed and pulsed from finger-impetuosity, heavily creaming onto his hand and thrashing her hips until the last afflecting wave of pleasure.
At passion's finale, Charlie lifted himself from the spent form, relishing sweet extrication from her thighs. The gentle popping of his swollen head from the narrow canal was accompanied by a wistful sigh, with the scent of musty secretion prevalent to the nostril! Collapsing with utter depletion, he was consumed with a task which still rankled him, a job yet undone! Characteristically, he knew its fulfillment was imperative before he left the island!
He was going to get Suzy Baker!
During the time that Charlie was embroiled in pussy annihilation, Tom Even indulged himself with a buxom blond expressly versed in the art of cocksucking. Though he contended that the masticatory talents of Suzy Baker exceeded those delineated by Pamela McLish, whose mouth presently was in demonstration, he was elated his unit had an outlet in which to expurgate its fluidized fury. The whiskered-wonder, which lay between Suzy's exquisite legs, had served as the bane of his existence and since it was denied him, he was left to sodomize the throat of a compliant vixen.
Feverishly, as he was propped up on tremulous elbows, he observed Pamela's oral artistry unfold as her limber tongue whipped furiously at his engorged unit. She studied the column of congealment as it jutted from his groin with ravenous intent, dabbing it tenderly with warm saliva, then swallowing its girth! Tom grunted as his unit promptly disappeared behind gnashing lips, sensing its passage from larynx to esophagus to trachea. Pamela's eyeballs temporarily protruded from their sockets as his unit delved into the main trunk of her respiratory system, but resumed normalcy as she swept upward. Tom suppressed the urge to hamper her freedom and sustain her oral hold over his engulfed unit, not wanting to restrict her oxygen supply. At any rate, Pamela's familiarization with the male apparatus was commendable and duly noted.
"Yeah," he cajoled, applying insistent pressure to the top of her head, "suck that unit. Go all the way down ... take the whole thing. Show me what a good girl you are...."
Pamela's mood brightened when his sexual expression was brought into this vernacular. Dutifully, she suckled the stiffened dick, appraising its rigidity with tongue afflutter. Her fingers grazed the flacid flesh of his scrotum, tickling his testicles and detecting their heavy seminal content. Delight of the knowledge that his reproductive fluid would splash down her windpipes was conveyed by her abundant taking.
Tom mused as he judged the status of his position. Pamela apparently suffered from the Oedipus complex, pursuing carnal refuse with older men rather than younger studs. He'd encountered this personality disorder on myriad occasions and felt competently able to dispense the level of virility desired.
"Daddy wants a blow job," he divulged in appropriate candor. "He wants his big unit taken completely in your mouth. Every inch, glommed by your adolescent lips."
Apart from the divulgence of her age (a rakish twenty-five), Pamela extolled the virtues of pre-pubescence. Since "Daddy" had professed a craving for genital consumption, then it was her familial obligation to provide that service. Never had the proficiency of lips adorned his unit with ardent splendor, nor had inspirited twirls of a tongue been the cause of intense revelry (with the marked exception of Suzy Baker)! Pamela proved to be quite an afficionado of cock cuisine!
"Let that stretch of meat slide down ... don't hesitate as it extends into your throat ... keep fluid the motion of ingurgiation. We want to test the range of your bovine proclivities, measure your intake of pork and establish your invulnerability to trichinosis. Don't we, little girl?"
Pamela sighed contentedly, absorbing his pearls of wisdom as she purloined his pillar of penetration to the moist chamber of her oral cavity. She flavored with phlegm the surface of his jutting pulsation, practicing tonsillar tricks to his aggregate satisfaction.
Tom couldn't resist from pealing his eyes to the glory of her admirable curves, the flexuous breasts and hips choreographed with her brusque, involved movements. Specifically, the pubic wisps captured his attention and with routine interception, explored the possibilities of penile enthrottlement. This, of course, predicated upon the resurgency of his hormones.
"Mmmmm ... Daddy likes the way you suck his unit. He enjoys putting it in your mouth while you lick. Don't you love my unit? Don't you want to choke on it, little girl?"
To punctuate his statement, he sent his unit jabbing to the inner sanctum of her esophogas and drew the suitable gagging response he sought. Pamela, hardly inured to this tactic, proceeded to cleanse his calcified cartilage with zestful technology. Vigilantly, she ingested the bloated offering in her sunctioning orifice, determined in the relieving of its voluminous seed.
As Pamela worked fiendishly on his imbibed unit, Tom settled upon furnishing her furburger with an avenue of sexual release. Reaching for the source of her slot solution, he inserted a single finger into her sopping hole. Pamela, engrossed in her sword-swallowing tenure, paused and emitted a gratified scream, then resumed vacumming detail! Tom's appetite for cooze quiche was inflamed, but fingerfucking seemed less of a strain on his nervous system, given his comfortable prone position.
"I'll bet you'd like to have my unit up your little twat," he ventured in lecherous repartee. "Imagine, that huge thing shoved up your poor little pussy, pushing and pulling at your juicy innards. Wouldn't that feel nice, having my hard unit in so tight and fertile a hole, hmmmm?"
Pamela, suspending induced garroting, nodded in agreement!
"But if I were to ... put it in you, I'd be taking my little girl's virginity, wouldn't I? I'd be deflowering her with my unit!" Transiently, he glanced at the Taiwan basket hanging over the bed and considered installing her sweet little ass in it! No, he rejected the vile allusion, wanting only Suzy Baker in its wicker confines. "No, I don't want to hurt you with my big thing. What an abominable act, violating one's daughter ... but that shouldn't prevent you from providing oral respite to Daddy. His unit so enjoys a fevered sucking. Ahhhh...."
Like a pacified child, Pamela acquiesced!
Tom sweated profusely as his unit was felated, sharpening his view of the distended shaft as it was attended by obedient laps. At one scintilating moment, saliva dribbled from its dilated crown to its glazed sides while Pamela's fluttering licks were stationed at his scrotum! Lazily, the drool trickled down the pulsing exterior of his unit and created a mild titilation in the center of his groin. He watched as the warm slime oozed in its descension when Pamela abruptly ended her auspicious assignment and took his entire unit into her mouth, errant spittle and all. Tom gasped as her lips enclosed his unit and involuntarily, clutched at the bedding with a jittery hand. Uhhhhhh! Further suction warranted animalistic growls which were attributed to Pamela's deft execution. Tom opened his thighs wider, increasing the spanse in which to make available every inch of his aroused equipment. His unit was in a high condition of excitation and could relatively explode from the vast number of incensed blood corpuscles.
"Christ ... suck my unit! Make it squirt ... then eat the cream! Oh ... so good ... mmmmm!"
The operative word was "suck," and Pamela sucked for all that she was worth, adrenalized by Tom's harsh breathing and tormented declaratives! Her head bobbed upon his swollen cock, blowing his boner with fiery acceleration. Hardly one to rest on her dissolute laurels after securing accolades which inferred professional prick puckering, Pamela was fixed upon extracting his beef brew and winning his favor. Her lips grappled his rigid cylinder with a salivary applique and gunned her jowls. Tom's unit vanished into her oral recpetacle in one fell swoop as Pamela made short order of his dick.
From the effectiveness of Pamela's displayed talent, Tom experienced a gathering of force in his loins! Whether he was prepared for the debilitating spasms was inconsequential for they advanced upon him in swift pursuit. Tom elapsed Pamela's pivoting head as tremors with the strength to inflict injury erupted the frothy expectorate.
"Arrrrrgggghhhh!" he howled at the spermatic disposal to her throat. "Take Daddy's big load ... swallow it, like a good girl. Uggghhhhh!" Fuck fluid splashed into her mouth, gushing dong deluge down her esophogas! His discharge was of such voluminosity that seminal revulets escaped her gaping maw and dribbled from her chin, though she ingested a large portion of it!
When the last drop of nutmeg was wrung from his unit, Pamela brandished a proud smile as she made the proclamation: "PAMMIE MADE ... ALL GONE! ALL GONE! HOORAY, PAMMIE! WHAT A GOOD GIRL I AM!"
Tom groveled in her success, wishing it was Suzy Baker's tonsils which were maimed. That bitch had departed his Taiwan basket intact, but before he finished his vacation, she would have another spin!
A non-stop spin!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Surely it was an anomaly, a cruel paradox of life, but Suzy Baker condemned Mother Nature for bestowing her with a conversing cunt. It was a damned nuisance to be going about one's business and have the thing sounding off at the aroma of beef abundancy (the chant, "Mother ... please feed me!" was initially diagnosed as a mild form of schizophrenia; now, it accounted for imbecility)! In relation to a tree's trunk, her twat was going to be lined with rings to denote her myriad sexual daliances! If she had three cocks daily (at mealtime), then it was her extrapolation that she consumed one thousand, ninety-five penises per annum! Shit, the stupid thing didn't believe in taking time off for the holidays.
How had this absurdity occurred, this malformation of the female reproductive system (certainly vocal cords couldn't be grown in the southern region of the human body)? As a young girl, there was no detection of vaginal variability from those of her peers. Not a word (distinguishable or otherwise) was uttered by her little snatch to her knowledge, yet when she reached the period of the sexual revolution and was exposed to situations which necessitate the use of her equipment, that little fucker demonstrated a mind of its own. Suddenly, ignoble sounds spouted from her dank hole, vile renderings which insulted the probatory equipment of a lover while in the throes of heated passion ("You call that meat; hell, give us trail mix!") Of course, if the sacrificial offering was of an admirable composition ("Yum! Yum! Yum! It's All-You-Can-Eat Night!"), then the declaration was approbative.
For a limited time, Suzy disregarded their carnivorous pleas, blotting them with a pillow firmly established in her lap. Discounting their cries had unfortunately resulted in severe cramps (worse than menstruation) as the rebellious pussy tendons and beaver biceps conspirited! The remedy for this ailment was simply the plentitude of prick poking her pussy.
Though she sought to censure the rapacious rapscallion which dwelled between her thighs, there was no denial in the exquisite pleasure it brought her. Orgasmic tremors which could shatter glass, productiveness of lubrication that could shame a Juice Bar ... it was an oiled machine, geared for maximum overdrive (at this rate, she feared the threat of overhaul)!
"Oh Mother ... we're getting the munchies!"
A chill swept down Suzy's spine. Goddamn it. It was time for the Midnight Feeding. If it was the last thing she would accomplish, it was to put her gluttonous gash on a diet. Her version of a peaceful evening included perusing fashion magazines and sipping vintage wine, not raiding the boys' locker room!
"You must learn ... moderation," Suzy bristled. "I know the word doesn't exist in your abbreviated vocabulary, but you should attempt its practice. Why must I stand on ceremony to serve your decripit aims? Instead of being concerned with situations that are sexually remunerative, you should be expanding your horizons, developing worthwhile characteristics of which libidinous gorging is exempt, nurturing significant traits-"
"Quit the fuckin' hysterics and get me some grub! Now!"
Shaken by its defiance, Suzy disposed of her periodical and reached for her purse. Of all the audacity, the temerity, the outspoken insolence.
She'd been foiled by a ferocious furburger!
The Bare Butt Bar was an assemblage of aspiring hopefuls, but none that wrought inspiration. Selecting a phallic fixture with which to showcase her enticing repertoire insisted upon extensive study, sensual cohesiveness and broadly, attainability. As procuress of passion, Suzy was often met with a challenge and had submitted her succulent assets to many a ne'er do-well. Often, Suzy attempted to convey her objection of spreading her legs for random reprobates to insert their protusive pricks, getting fucked the last thing she wanted from them, but her snarling slot refuted her charges! Already, the seed of suspicion had germinated within others and the classification of "tramp" designated. Suzy knew of the vicious rumors in circulation of her erratic behavior, yet there seemed to be no reprieve from their manifestation. She was truly a victim of circumstance, a freak of nature, an icon to the worshippers of debased privilege!
As she approached a dark-haired man with a well-tended mustache and a devilish grin, Suzy conjectured whether he was a qualified candidate. Surely he possessed some alluring aspects, from impressive pectorals to a trim physique, with the added largess of a bulging crotch.
"Mmmm," Suzy commented, "probably hung for days. Wouldn't you like to place 'nurse' to his 'doctor?' "
"Negatory," intoned her pussy, "he was on Tuesday's menu. Don't you remember? His seminal specimen had insubstantial ejectory power, was of a watery consistency with a low sperm count, briefly subsisted in a dank environment and incapable of reproducing life. Summarily ... the stuff was shit!"
"Thank you for your analytical studies, Dr. Ruth."
She redirected her attention to the opposite side of the room, where a redheaded Adonis flexed his muscles for her sole amusement. He seemed particularly accomplished in lifting a prominent appendage.
"Think you could go for a pumping session with Charles Atlas over there?" she mused. "I'll bet he could curl your whiskers!"
"Have you taken a leave of your senses? You were together Sunday night, and I might attach the postscript that his bodily character, though exceptional, was incongrous of his sexual apparatus. It's entirely misleading to line one's swim trunks with padding to compensate for a lack of configuration. These weightlifters suffer animosity from anatomical disproportionation, or denial of the ability to develop their entire physical nature."
Suzy winced. How could that furry thing remember all this crap? More importantly, how could she forget having been with some of these hunks? She'd prided herself on her photographic 'memory, but being surrounded with temptation for an entire week had caused a retentive malfuction. What induced her to come here with mild fervor to assist her waning motivation, anyway? Fucking was no longer a priority, it was a liability!
"Now that one has possibilities...." the ephemeral voice had a suggestive mew.
The prospective entrant was a dark blond, ostensibly of German-Irish extraction and athletic persuasion, with brown eyes from which deviation and calculus were scarcely a stranger. Suzy was familiar with both the type and his methods, having had the distinct pleasure of making the acquiantance. Handcuffs and spewed obscenities marked their passage. Delicious pain and grinding buttocks, with plenty of sweat, brought the illumination of hot and acrobatic sex (precisely the variety which entralled her)!
Snatching up her purse, Suzy purred, "Come on, honey, we've got a date."
"Just one moment, please," interrupted a succinct voice from behind, one which conjured feminine rivalry.
Whirling upon her intruder, Suzy was confounded by the propinquity of a staturesque woman with heavy breasts and a wicked glint to her eyes. A fair estimate of her age would place her in the mid-forties, but largely, she retained an epicurean flavor. As a matter of principle, Suzy was not given to lesbian proclivities, but admittedly, the woman temporarily ensnared her pre-coital interest.
"I was just admiring your bathing suit," the woman mentioned by way of introduction. "It simply moves with your body, and affords your optimum advantage of your natural endowments...."
From the heat of her gaze, clearly her bikini wasn't what provoked conversation, but rather sublime intent. This woman fostered aspirations of erotic scheme from reveling eyes to indulgent hands. Though homosexuality intrigued her, it was not her suit.
Also, she received cryptic advice from below:
"Hey, bumping pussies isn't your style. Scram, before she makes a move!"
"My name is Christine Martin. I've noticed you several times on the beach and around the pool, but have been remiss in extending pleasantries."
"And I'm Suzy Baker." Boldly, she elected to put Christine's sexual preferences to the test. "Yes, I can understand the distraction with a band of studs!"
The noticeable flinch was a sufficient reading and the defiant step forward made it unanimous!
Christine, alerted to Suzy's defection, forged ahead with a last resort to recapture their rapport. "Could I buy you a drink?"
"Sorry. I'm with him," she indicated the dark blond beefcake nodding in her direction, "or will be, momentarily. Tah, tah!"
Christine shrank at the sight of Suzy pandering herself to the rival gender after detecting passion's spark. Hadn't the little vixen been enamored of her tongue, keeping her eyes pealed for its emergence (perhaps, if she'd quietly escorted her to a darkened corner and shown it for her exclusive benefit, they might have quietly adjourned to Suzy's room)! Purloining her beaver of its delectable ingredients was central to her endeavors, with serpentine tip poised to clarify her clitoris' lickability. Ohhhh! Christine was thoroughly enraged by rejection, especially when her quarry was on the brink of authorization.
Adamantly, she thought of ways to reverse her decision! Before her return to civilization, she would stake her claim on Suzy's ellusive loins!
"Oh, babe...." Terry McGroyn mumbled at the Thrill Hammer's acceleration into the proffered sluiceness! Cindy, a wanton wench with whom he was consummating illicit pleasure, was propped on elbows with ass raised upward and legs spread to accommodate the placement of his swollen tool. Hunched over in this passive position, she afforded Terry subterranean access to her juicy cunt while moaning from the resounding thwack of united groins. Their coupling ensued in a secluded area of the darkened beach where nary a spectator's eye was privy.
Cindy, a girl of gamine appeal, had initiated the encounter after a round of seductive sparring, with Terry playing thrust to her parry. Her wandering glance to the significant mound at his crotch gave impetus to a thorough examination of his penetrative equipment (much to Terry's concealed delight)! After a smoldering session of suck-face (with Cindy fondling the afore mentioned cock throughout), Terry's swimtrunks were lowered to reveal the distensibility of the Thrill Hammer! After muttering a few expletives to describe her joy at unmasking the eighth wonder of the world, Cindy vigorously sucked his appendage in exhilarated glee! With the Thrill Hammer being pressed into service, Terry committed himself to the pagan worship of erotica's icon by employing corrupt terms to depict the gratification derived (i.e. "Suck my cock, you lowlife bitch!" or "Blow me, you cheap Christmas trash!")! Cindy's head-giving had reached its pinnacle and without having to resort to hasty discharge, Terry adroitly disentangled her vise-gripping lips from the Thrill Hammer, repositioned and took her doggie style. His penetration of her rear entrance was the cause of spewed curses, but Terry was unbothered by blaspheme and fanned her furburger's flames with his firepoker! While her oral orifice found easy adaptation to his bludgeoning boner, it bore an adverse effect to her cuntal quarters. Cindy equated housing its largeness to fitting a telephone pole in a telephone booth. Ugggh! The occupation of limited space by a prevailing object of incomparative size can be quite discomforting (actually, it can fucking hurt), but Terry persisted over her muted cries!
"Oh Christ, I'm gonna come!" Terry growled as orgasm's depleting spasm washed over him. In high gear, he extracted his pulsatory organ from her inflamed slot and expulsed his hot seed over her quivering buttocks. He observed with fleeting distraction the arc of fuck fuel spring from his convulsing crown, rocket rinse spiraling toward her backside. The warm, viscid secretion prickled her tepid flesh as she endured its splashdown. Thick rivulets of semen dribbled into the division of her moon globes, moistening the agitated crack.
Desire was not expunged, however, with passion's eruption. Terry's satyriasis thriving, his lasivious impulse resurgent, his hormones replenished, he returned the Thrill Hammer to her well-lubricated opening! The slab of adrenalized meat slid securely into her furry enfold unimpeded by constricted muscled!
"Jesus ... no!" Cindy gasped, her restorative powers having little time to function! Bracing herself on raised haunches, she absorbed the piercing plunge of prick as it became embedded to the hilt. Had she known in advance of his incredible stamina, penetration wouldn't have been the product of her design!
"I'm doin' you, babe ... the way you always wanted to be done!"
"Hurry!" she implored. "Finish!"
On bended knees, arms wrapped around her stomach, his energized thrusts were respondent to her feverish plea. Perspiration dampening his brow, he delivered brutalizing bone to the narrow crevice suffering from blistering ventilation. The consignment of swollen dong into her ermine furnace was equivalent to poking a slushy passage. Fatigue from constant friction, Cindy yielded to the horrendous hosing. Her pussy was relegated to a moist receptacle for seminal emission.
At length, the column of meat revisiting her steamy enclosure was not wholly the enervative force. Cindy shivered as Terry fed her his tool in full measure, respiring from her pussy's carnivorous intake. Where his far-reaching phallus had once inflicted loin laceration now was responsible in harvesting slot splendiferiousness. His thickness passed through her cunt's corridor with searing import, slicing into contracted muscle as it laid claim to yon womb! By nature's ordinance, Cindy was compelled to pushing her firm buttocks toward Terry's pulsing distension and further impalement. Ohhhh! In answer to her newfound eagerness, Terry sent solid numbness into her frothy fissure. His brisk strokes excited her endlessly.
"Ahhhh ... you're so big, stud!" she crooned. "I love when you cram it up me. Jump my bones. Do me with that motherfucker. Bang me hard ... and make me come!"
"Slam those buns against my dick. Milk my cock. Feel that whopper up your box, pumping your snatch. I've still got plenty of cream to flood that beaver ... gonna shoot a huge load up your muff!"
"Yes!" she panted, writhing in his grasp, urging the release of male secretion in her warm pussy. "Squirt my hole. Fill me with the hot beef injection. Splatter my twat with jism. I want your gush of molten seed. Pour your manstuff into my manhole. Now ... faster, harder. Oooohhhh! Baby...."
Ensaring her buckling pubis with fuck juice-soaked hands, Terry hastily hosed. The Thrill Hammer clamored in its sodden environment, compact cartilage catapulting into her furry firmament. Her boobs, though small, shook with each fitful lunge, the nipples vibrating targets of titilation for roaming thumbs.
Cindy whimpered heatedly as she jostled her asscheeks onto his outstretched prong and felt the delicious ingression to Wombland. U.S.A.! Consumed by her torrid delirium, she gave fully to the pillar of penetration that prevailed upon her posterior, devouring its throbbing bulk via rear entrance!
Her flesh was thoroughly coated with perspiration, making her body slippery, but Terry's passion-seeking missile never left the incendiary reaches of her hairpie. Though his hormone imbalance had lessened, he still had every intention of spurting come up her little snatch. The urge to dispel his thick secretion was imperative. With frantic perturbation, he hammered her hindquarters into submission, sinking rigid hose into her love tunnel. The narrow chasm through which his cock passed provided him with immeasurable surfeit while her sluiced chamber enticed ejaculation. Cindy's pussy was a blazing conduit of pleasure.
"You're making me come!" Cindy intoned as contractions raced to take command of her clitoris. "Oh Terry ... don't stop. Fuck me harder. Make me come hard!"
His groin rebounded on her buttocks as he mashed the Thrill Hammer into her liquid loins. Wet, smacking sounds reverberated in the room at his prick percussions, her fustigated furburger received a flagellation to within an inch of its life. He drove his big dipper with unmitigated force, beating her beaver with subversive strokes.
Cindy moaned in excited pitch at gratifying seizures' usurpation of her furry flanks. "Ohhhhh!
You sweet stud, making mama come! Oh yes! Now! Give it to me ... now! Uuuugghhhh!"
Terry's whalloping rod delivered, wringing the severity of convulsion for which she hankered. Squeezing her twin globes in his palms, crushing the pulsating nuggets with pincers, he sustained the bursts of sexual intoxication which coarsed through her. Cindy undulated as the waves of indulgence washed over her electrified flesh, her haunches quivering with sparks of stimulation, the febricity of foam unfurling from her fur farm. Heavily, she excreted a rinse of beaver by-product onto Terry's plumbing apparatus while throttled by orgasmic throes.
Cindy's paroxyms of passion was conductive to Terry's spewage of seed. While her asscheeks were in high buckle, he released his hot discharge into her blistering channel.
Despite his earlier distribution of dick dilution, Terry grunted as the torrent of tool mixture spurted into her cunt. "Gonna come so much ... gonna fill your box. Ugggh! Ugghhh!"
But it wasn't Cindy's slot that was recipient of the McGroyn reproductive fluid, but that of Suzy Baker's. While ernstwhile ensconced in divesting himself of his hormones, he hadn't forgotten her to the score with which he must settle.
CHAPTER NINE
The natives were getting restless on Desire Island!
Perhaps it was due to the heat, the water, or the fact that it was the final day before returning to civilization and order for some vacationists, but a definite pattern of behavior was prevalent. Those who shunned sobriety, hugely indulged in the lure of strange flesh, or practiced depravity in its base form came upon the reality of impending departure with the utmost gloom. Maintaining privileged lifestyles was essential, but their forged dependencies on simpler needs would create an unpopular void when deprivation was complete.
With the full moon beaming brightly from a starlit sky to the celebrants below, the air was ripe with danger as the last night of festivities commenced....
Gerry Domboneski laid in a profusion of clammy sweat without a proverbial stitch while the head of a luscious brunette descended upon the length of his rigid Jabber. Richly-painted fuchsia lips clamped onto the throbbing engorgement and applied suction of a virulent order, salivating as they went. Gerry, attempting to balance himself on trembling elbows, observed the divine gobbling of his manhood with incredulity. Though the offer of a blow-job was highly appealing, he didn't entirely approve of her methods. The girl's mouth was a veritable cleaning device, her gums molded to his cock. He could scarcely breathe, she had nearly sucked the oxygen from his lungs. No woman had held his dick in her throat with greater constriction!
"Hey babe," he managed to say, "are you trying to check my blood pressure down there?"
She responded with a satisfied sigh before gunning her chops at full throttle.
The quality of lip service was commendable, but for Gerry, it was all for naught. Why had he agreed to let this little bimbo go down on him when his mood for head wasn't synchronized? Admittedly, her adventureous tongue brought him to vibrant erection with a single slurp, but it wasn't spiritually uplifting as he'd hoped. The image of Suzy Baker still rankled and his period of brooding unhappily persisted.
It was useless. Unconvinced of his ability to achieve climax, he detached (almost requiring the assistance of a crowbow) the brunette's bobbing head from the Jabber and returned it to hibernation in his swim trunks!
"Sorry, toots," he apologized to her disbelief, "but it's back to Spankin' Hank, if you know what I mean."
After placing a bandage on the minor cut to his temple inflicted by the thrown metal ashtray before her indignant departure, Gerry regarded his morose reflection in the mirror. Should he simply pack his things and retire early this evening as a means of quietly forgetting his painful passage to these tropical environs, or should he adjourn to the Bare Butt Bar and drown his sorrows in a beer mug? Since remaining in his room would inevitably increase his level of melancholia, he opted for alcoholic release....
Terry McGroyn, Charlie Jagger and Tom Even were gathered in final tribute to a wild, hedonistic week on Desire Island. Gerry joined them in rapt silence, motioning to the bartender of his liquored preference. His consumption of the amber brew was expressly for medicinal purposes.
The trio's attention was sharpened to the persona of an abundantly endowed blonde seated in a booth across from them. Word had filtered through that she was recently wed and on her honeymoon. They had supposed that the man with whom she was conversing in a rather smitten manner was her husband.
"What an ape!" remarked Terry after glimpsing her companion. "How could she want someone like him?"
Charlie concurred. "He is a beast. Must be hung like a horse to garner any affection."
"Shit, just look at those tits!" said Tom. "For me, that's breakfast, lunch and dinner. What a meal of them I'd make!"
"Yeah," Terry gasped, "she's sure stacked. I could shove my cock right between those babies and come like a faucet!" He turned to Gerry, who merely nursed his beer. "What do you think?"
Gerry shrugged. "Only one thought comes to mind: will she be able to walk after the honeymoon's over?"
Charlie held up his glass in mock toast. "I'll drink to that!"
"Salute!"
"Here's mud in your eye!"
Several rounds of drinks later, Gerry's pessimism reached an intolerable level. Where he had seen reason in an abstinent frame of mind, his world became sheer pandemonium from the bottom of an empty bottle! His eyes darted about as they glowed with apocalypticism! The others were wary of his transformation and ventured to reduce his consumption by gesturing to the bartender to avoid serving him. Their efforts were aborted as Gerry filched beers unbeknownst from neighboring drinkers. His demonic gleam put them on alert.
"FUCKING BITCH!" he roared with sudden ferocity. "SHE DUMPED ME. SHE FUCKING DUMPED ME! NO LITTLE CUNT GETS AWAY WITH THAT SHIT. NOT A ONE!"
Terry, concerned for his friend, muttered in his ear. "Come on, Gerry, this is our last night. Don't work yourself into a lather over a cheap piece of ass. Forget about her. She's history."
"I AIN'T LEAVIN' THIS ISLAND 'TIL I DO HER ONE MORE TIME. SHE'LL HAVE MY COME UP HER SNATCH BEFORE SHE FUCKS SOMEONE ELSE!"
Tom and Charlie sighed sympathetically over Gerry's lementation. They, too, had suffered from Suzy Baker's defection of their respective dicks, but since she wasn't apt to reverse her decision, containing their grief was imperative.
"Bring him into the can and have him relieve himself," suggested Tom Even. "Perhaps it'll clear his brain."
"Yes," Charlie concurred. "Or he'll be on a murderous rampage!"
Terry led Gerry into the men's lavatory and coerced him to urinate at the stall. "It's the beer," Terry commiserated. "Go on, buddy ... before you go nuts!"
Gerry was in total upheaval as he precariously beckoned to the porcelain god, the Jabber poised for voidance. He stared down at himself, ashamed at his inebriated behavior, his emotional outburst and began to cry. Slouching at his post, he appeared totally incapable of concentrating on the act of which Terry encouraged.
"Oh God ... this is a nightmare!" he moaned.
Terry, embarrassed not only for his friend, but himself as well, reddened as an intoxicated gentleman entered and peered distrustfully at Gerry's disheveled form. "Excuse me, but ... does he spray?"
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, JAGGOFF!" Gerry snarled hotly. "I'LL FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS!"
The drunkard merely nodded that his lethal message had been perceived, then skulked into a cubicle and quietly locked the door.
Gerry, literally a malignant force with which to deal, replaced the Jabber in its proper quarters and glared defiantly. "I'm going to find the bitch right now and do her! Whether she wants it or not ... and I guarantee once I put it in, she won't let me take it out!"
Terry shrank at Gerry's declared lunacy. "You can't go around doin' some chick if she don't want it. There is a law-"
"Fuck the law! I'm doin' her now!"
At the moment of their emergence from the restroom, Kathy and Rosemary were rounding the corner with the intention of enjoying a few cocktails before packing their things. Gerry's maniacal glint promptly captured their attention, with Rosemary cowering from his menacing approach.
"Gerry, what's the matter?" Kathy queried, alarmed at his crazed expression.
"You!" he indicated Rosemary's study of abject fear. "So you're the resident virgin, the one everybody wants to nail. Want a good time, little girl? Want to be stuck by my Fire Jabber!"
"Stand back!" she croaked. "Keep away!"
"It'll be the best doin' you ever had, I promise!" he leered, then endeavored to seize her.
Rosemary retracted her steps and quickly took flight, racing toward the stairs while emitting blood-curdling screams. "He's insane! Somebody stop him ... before it's too late!"
Terry watched as Gerry was in hot pursuit of his prey. "We'd better catch up with him before he hurts her!"
Kathy couldn't help repressing her smile of delight. "Nah. Leave 'em alone. Believe me, it'll do her a world of good."
"Eeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" they heard Rosemary's cacophony of shrieks as she scrambled upward.
"You'll be screeching louder than that when I put it in you!" Gerry announced in heckling glee. "A little jab'll do ya!"
"Nnnnnnoooooooooooooo!" came her terrified response.
Rosemary managed to outdistance him, but only at a marginal pace. Gerry's agility and excellent conditioning made for a great challenge. By sheer fortune, she was able to leap through the opened doorway of a suite and secure the latch in one fluid motion. Slumping against the door and heaving a sigh of momentary relief, Gerry's fists pummeled at the obstruction and threatened forced entrance via battering.
"You're not safe!" he howled. "You can't prevent the Jabber from giving you a well-needed poke. I'll get my cock up your cunt so fast, your head will spin!"
"No!" Rosemary defied. Thoughts of Dr. Miller's formidable medical examination surfaced. Probing fingers, cold metalic instruments...."No! Stay away from me!"
Scanning the suite for a method of escape, she scampered into the bedroom. Perhaps there was an adjacent balcony onto which she could decamp! Despite her dread of heights, anything was preferable to having Gerry introducing his excited penis into her vagina. Oh God! Where were the Royal Mounties when she desperately needed them?
Inside the dim bedroom, she searched for sanctum. The drapes were drawn and the moonlight summoned from beyond. Gerry's assault of the door worsened as the sound of tortured hinges sent chills down her spine! In seconds, he would be inside the suite and (gulp) herself as well! Vainly, she pleaded for salvation!
"You can't get away from me, bitch!" his voice jeered behind walls. "One thrust ... and you'll be shrilling like a stuck pig!"
In the darkness, Rosemary spotted a basket hanging from the ceiling, suspended by rope and a pulley. Though it wasn't destined to be a hiding place, she chose to climb into it. Gerry, in his besotted state, could easily overlook searching it! Perched in the wicker contraption, she lowered her head so as not to be conspicuous and inhaled deeply. The next few minutes solely depended on her remaining absolutely still!
Otherwise ... ouch!
Seconds after Rosemary alighted to her roost, a mysterious hand brandishing a knife set about cutting the rope which elevated the basket. Steathily, its serrated edge tore through the filament!
Rosemary briefly sensed something amiss, but dared not to investigate. The horrible pounding from the other room rose to a torrid crescendo as Gerry's scornful cries reverberated in the hallway.
Finally, the twine was severed and Rosemary's eyes grew huge as she plummet. The sick feeling of hurling downward cluthed at her throat, but only for a bare moment as something painfully huge penetrated her loins and pulverized her cherry from beneath the basket!
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Rosemary hollered. "AAARRRGGGGHHHHHH!"
"Contact!" Tom Even heckled under her, his naked body sprawled across the bed as he twirled the knife in his palm. His colossal unit was embedded in, her pussy, its awesome width crammed tightly into her gaping snatch! Evidently, the enormous motherfucker sliced right through her panties and impaled her hairpie.
"How 'bout a spin, baby?" Tom snickered, grasping the rim! "Pilot to co-pilot, are you ready for take off?"
Rosemary, scarcely recovered from traumatiza-tion, regarded him with befuddlement. "I beg your pardon?"
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
"Oh no!" she yelped as he sent the basket into mad rotation. The walls of her recently excavated beaver did a complete turn with Tom's massive unit resembling an axel. He'd converted her twat into a turbine, a furburger flywheel, a slot swivel! Swiftly, she gyrated, feeling his buried hardness twisting within the clutch of terrorized tissue. "Oh no! No! JESUS CHRIST, GET ME OFF THIS FUCKING THING! GAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
"That's it, toots. Just relax and enjoy the ride. Let that unit grind your gears. Pirouette that pussy. Circle that cock. Wheel around my rod. Lurch those loins. Curve that cooze. Circumvolve that snatch. Trundle that twat!"
Rosemary spun furiously on his unit, ailed by dizziness. What a cruel twist (no pun intended) of fate, to wind up as a human turntable. And to have some stranger's ... thing shoved up her, altering her virginal status with a single poke. The medical examination, Dr. Miller's spectacled frown as he applied probing fingers, her mother's vituperate scowl as she was pronounced "tramp" of the highest ranking ... her anxieties had materialized, the substance of many a bad dream. Somehow, her innocence just wasn't destined to be ruptured on her wedding night, but instead taking part of a pagan rite (ala vagina vertigo!)
Her mother had once told her, "If you're stuck with a lemon, then make lemonade." Well, if Prince Charming happened to be a personified pivot, then happily, she would enact the turnspit. If she involuntarily bid a sad adieu to her chastity, then she sure was hell was going to enjoy herself.
Fuck the medical exmination!
Fuck Dr. Miller!
And Mother ... get fucked!
"GIVE IT TO ME, STUD! I WANT ACTION. PRESS THAT PRICK INTO SERVICE. SHOW MY CUNT A GOOD TIME. RIVET. HAMMER. MAUL. THRASH. WHALLOP. FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF IT. PRONTO!"
Tom, grinning at the metamorphosis from moth to flame, gladly obliged her amorous directives. While in the thick of revolvency, he administered sharp, puncturing thrusts to her sluiced crevice. In transit, Rosemary bleated exhuberantly while humping the proffered meatpipe rising through the basket's opening. Rapaciously, her fuckhole devoured his petrified pulsation, crushing its hardness in the dank casing of her cunt. Tom was largely overcome by her astringent muscles locking about his unit, applying significant pressure! Distracted by the snug fit, he could barely turn the Taiwan basket. Briskly pushing through Rosemary's previously uncharted region was of monumental value (especially with the raw alacrity she displayed). It was of her own volition that she implored the ravishment of her chaste shores, bucking and preening for additional footage to be stored in her cooze. Seizing the rim of the fiendish contraption, she smashed her moist pubis onto his rigidity until their groins were molded together, his entire length of manhood captured in her damp enclosure, and reliquished a deafening scream that underscored her imminent gratification.
Tom lying in recumbent pleasure, relocated his energies and spun the basket with zestful determination. The urge to cream heavily into her snatch was of bestial impulsion. He sensed in his scrotum the dense secretion churning for volcanic emission!
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
Rosemary, suspended in wanton abandon, wildly responded to Tom's enchantment with her purity's demise! Why hadn't she listened to Kathy earlier and permitted nature to take its course? Submission to an enthusiastic dicking was a thoroughly satisfying adventure! Feeling a man's cock, hard and throbbing, within her womb both excited and compelled her! Having Tom, an accomplished and considerate lover, to acquaint her with the thrills of inventive fornication and uncover her penchant for nymphomania was an enriching experience.
As she rode the peaks and valleys of naked desire, a foreign sensation soared within her loins. Unaccustomed to achieving this level of sexual complacence, she forged ahead, humping herself to immense distraction. Her pussy watered with fragrant juices, dribbling them onto the turgid protrudence as it continued to molest her innards. She could feel Tom's unit secure in its position, having infiltrated the inner recesses of her receiving tank. As his tool lumbered in its quest for climactic release, a distinct tingling in the pit of her groin wrought fiery emanations. Having earlier discussions with Kathy on the subject, Rosemary prepared for her initial encounter with orgasm!
"You're making me come!" she panted in a profusion of sweat, leaning over the basket's rim to observe his flushed countenance!
Tom, equally pleasured by sweet constriction of his unit, hesitated in rotating her perch and urgently pumped her twat! The accelerated movement of his meat caused her to flip backward and cry out in anguish as it intensified the prevalent tremors. When he sensed she was at the brink, he let fly the vortex vehicle!
WHIRL-WHIRL! WHIRL-WHIRL!
"Yes! Yessssss!" she howled, consigned to passion's spasmodic throes. Tom's unit seared her insides as she convulsed wildly upon it, thrashing about its perforating exterior. Girl goo sputtered its viscid substance onto his far-reaching pole, while pussy tendons became wrapped around it.
Rosemary's outward display inspired Tom. Observing her inflamed reactions from below, he was aware his containment of cock custard would erupt momentarily. Now that she had passed the desired threshold, nothing prevented him from exhausting his multiplicative hormones in her cunt. Grinding his unit with the utmost fervor into her hairpie, he was quickly defeated by the harsh percussion of seizures that amounted to frantic squirting. Jism of a dense variety entered her beaver, spewing into the agitized hole.
When the last drop of fuck fuel had been siphoned into Rosemary, the basket was just completing its final revolution. Rosemary, having recovered from both her deflowering and first taste of forbibben fruit, beckoned longingly to Tom.
"I wonder what the freight charge is on one of these things?"
Suzy Baker was in the midst of illicit vibration in her hotel suite after having listened to her pussy's voracious demands for a sufficient length. She held the buzzing contraption between her legs, sprawled across her bed, muttering inane phrases at the furried wonders dictation of her life. Damned nuisance, that's what it was! Designs of purchasing a muzzle tempted her.
"The trouble with you is, enough is never enough. Must you make a pig of yourself? Must you be a glutton for punishment? Can't you stay home and relax for a change? Take up knitting, perhaps basket weaving?" Suzy paused for a moment, squeezed her eyes and released a low, guttural moan. Ohhhhh! Mmmm, this wasn't half-bad, she silently admitted. "But ... but yet you persist. You pout ridiculously if denied, not to mention inflicting me with horrendous cramps. It's unfair! I object-"
"Awwwww, shut up! Just keep the buzz!" BBBBBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
CHAPTER TEN
Suzy Baker was most assuredly on the lam (at least, as far as most of the island residents were concerned).
Why hadn't she assumed that the immoral majority would require second and third tastes of her wares? Furiously, she gave her beaver both a tongue-lashing and brow beating (along with some serious thought of pistol-whipping) for warranting her given predicament! She detested having to hide, but revealing herself to those seeking retribution would unavoidably put her cunt in peril.
At the present juncture, she had fled to the backroom of the Bare Butt Bar where boxes of name-brand labels were stacked for public consumption. Conversations among the assorted carousers filtered into her hideaway.
"Don't you think you've had enough to drink?" someone slurred.
"Nan. I just got started," came the maudlin reply.
"You've put away a dozen glasses of Chivas Regal."
"S'aw right. Tomorrow after the plane lands, I'm checkin' into a hospital and gettin' a blood transfusion. Ya come out good as new!"
"Might try that. "
"Hey ... I hear that little cunt Suzy Baker took a powder tonight after a couple people tried collecting on a few old debts."
Coarse, ribald laughter followed. "Ever haul your ashes with ol' Suzy?"
"Yeah, gave her a poke through the whiskers! And you?"
"We rubbed a little bacon, he-heh! How's about findin' the little tart and givin' her somethin' to remember us by?"
"Took the words right out of my mouth. Let's go."
Suzy listened with mounting horror as she heard their shuffling departure. Shit, it was Open Season and she was considered Fair Game. What could she do? Tonight was the last night for most of the guests on Desire Island; they ought to be packing their bags. Intead, their operative was: Pussy Posse!
The inflammatory exchange between Gerry Domboneski and Terry McGroyn further disarmed her. Their gruff tones were within carrying distance from the entrance of the bar.
"You find her yet?" Terry asked.
"For a few minutes, then she disappeared. But don't worry. I'm combing the island. Let's search the Bare Butt first."
"Man, is she ever gonna get it. One thrust, with no lubrication!"
Suzy felt the color draining from her face. Hostility reigned supreme. If she remained in the storage area much longer, the safety of her snatch would be jeopardized. Taking into account what mayhem, malice and maelstrom would occur once snared by Gerry and Terry was sufficient in making her blanche!
A small window leading to landscaped grounds and the beach presented a method of escape. Springing to it, she climbed in clandestine fashion, alerted to the growing din in the background as the rummaging due were in closer vicinity.
"Ollie-ollie oxen, free-free-free!" proclaimed Terry in true hornified spirit. "Come out, come out, wherever you are ... or there won't be a strand of pubic hair left on your twat!"
Into the night, Suzy Baker and her fugitive furburger stole!
Kathy's lone voluptuous figure roamed the darkened beath as she reflected upon the varied illuminations of the previous week. During her sojourn to these serene environs, she uncovered latent homosexual tendencies. Her rendezvous with Christine Martin was still fresh, the skilled wielding of her clitoris and deft disposal of trickling girl goo an awesome revelations. She wished there could be a final adventure for later retrospection. Christine's cool reception, however, had made it plain it was a chance encounter not meant for repetition.
Throughout her reminiscent stroll, she saw copulating pairs lining the sun-baked sands, each forging a token memory for posterity's sake (very in flagrante delicto)! Famished lips suckled engorged cocks, sluiced cunts received pricks in variance of thickness and length, and protrustive tongues flicked surreptutiously at exposed clitorises! The warring strain of muffled gasps and moans stirred her, but it was Chrstine's pederastic talents she craved! The wonderful whips at her love button, devoted to furnishing unrivaled bliss was her most cherished thought!
"Ooooh yeah, suck it, suck it nice," instructed a reposed masculine figure with thighs widely splayed so as to afford his female companion with access to the steep column of congealed meat rising toward an opened mouth. A second later, it was consumed to perfection, the man shuddering with delight. Kathy saw the girl's fingers tenderly caressing his balls as a stimulating postscript to her oral endeavors!
"There you are, Suzy Baker," growled a besotted Charlie Jagger. "Thought you'd outwitted me. Well, I've found you at last!"
Kathy attempted to extricate herself from his clutches. "Come on, Charlie. Your brain is polluted. You know I'm not Suzy."
"The hell you aren't!" he raged. "Perhaps you've disguised yourself!"
"What have you been drinking: Rustoleum? Obviously you aren't playing with a full deck!"
"Bitch!"
Rapidly, he was forcing her against a palm tree with his intent plain. Under duress and the influence of alcohol, he boasted disturbing delusions!
"Hey, come on, I'm not Suzy! Really, Charlie, you have it all wrong," she hoped he hadn't interpretted her fear in her voice; it might reinforce his conviction.
Charlie, unobservant of her pleas, took her hand and smothered it over his inflamed crotch. Kathy could feel the heat emanating from his jutting bulge, as well as its portended hardness. Being reacquainted his man's throbbing excitement after the passage of time triggered a barrage of mixed emotions, some favorable.
"Feel that," he coaxed. "Feel how stiff I am. You've made it that big, that thick! I've thought about nothing but putting it inside you again, grinding your little fuckhole with my huge cock. Press it, hold it ... don't you want it, tramp? Wouldn't you like me to ease it into your cunt?"
Lamely, Kathy tended to be in agreement, dwelling on another memory that included heterosexual dalliance. Yet, she hesitated. Her predilections were altered. "No Charlie, not now. I'm not the same. I've changed...."
"Bullshit!" he stated, then with grim certainty, tore the lower portion of her bikini to yield admittance to her elusive chamber.
Kathy was appalled at the violence of his actions. Alcohol had largely affected his ability to recall and his behavior. She was the victim of mistaken identity. Underscoring the ensuing trauma was his rough separation of her legs and the extraction of his cartilaginous tool. Oh God, he meant to fuck her in a standing position against the palm tree!
"Charlie, don't do this!" she exclaimed. "I'm not Suzy! You wouldn't be forcing yourself if you realized the truth!" Cornered, she was unable to flee and with Charlie holding her captive, insertion of his engorgement appeared immenent!
"I'm putting it in!" he insisted. "Now!"
Though she pushed and struggled, Charlie brought the bloated head of his dick to her damp entrance. She tried sinking her nails into his flat stomach, but his strength was overpowering. With minimal effort, he slid his pillar of penetration firmly into her resistive snatch. His belief in having landed the role of Suzy Baker's chief tormentor was consummate.
"Ohhhhh!" Kathy gritted her teeth and felt her muscles go numb as his turgid hose claimed her loins. Flashes of her former sexual partners appeared before her, stylishly choreographed to ensure dense wetness of pussy. Had she truly forgotten the marvels they rendered, the panache of their performance? Application of tongue to nipple to clitoris with utter verve sparked the imagination. Men, as different as they were from women, provided a higher level of animal attraction. With their coarse hands, unrefined mouths and ubiquitous peckers, they presented a unique challenge. Though demanding obsequiousness from the female gender, a decisive brand of fun surely could be had.
"Gonna fuck you so good!" he murmured, pounding her box into submission. "Gonna make your muff warm with my big thing!"
His battering boner caused her body to buckle from the impact, with her box absorbing the brunt of its force! She toiled to push him away, but found his resoluteness unflappable. Charlie meant to give her a boisterous poking, with or without her blessing. Fiercely, he worked the pulsing column of meat into her beaver, its diameter shoving into the slippery fist of her furburger!
Kathy accepted his erect offering with a heated simper, letting the engulfing percipience soar in the pulp of her being! There was a torturous satiation in having a large penis incessantly pump her sodden hole, its solid girth rubbing her narrow canal until it prickled her senses.
"Charlie...." she bewailed. "I love it!"
"Of course you do," he jeered. "Go on, enjoy the hell out of it. Hump that dick. I'm gonna shoot ... in your most private place, putting hot cream up that cunt."
"Yes!" she implored. "Do it! Fuck me harder. Oh yes! Yes!"
Kathy sighed as her tits were mauled, Charlie's thumbs kneading the swollen nipples. His hands amassed the billowy excess, plying them with subtle pressure which increased substantially. She cried at his harsh use, yet entreated their molestation.
"I love these goddamn tits!" he rasped. "Gonna squeeze the fuckin' shit out of 'em!"
"Oh!" she gasped, then let out a low moan as his prick pierced her womb, slicing through her steamy tunnel. In her sweltering delirium, she raised her right leg and wrapped it securely about his waist, providing him with a better angle in which to puncture her. She lost herself totally in the clutch of phallic friction. It mattered not that his joint was firmly established in her entrapment muscle, buried to the hilt, only that he was treating her to a savory sample of old-fashioned fucking!
"Little tramp, pretending you can do without it," he grunted. "You're addicted to cock. You need a big, stiff whang stuffed in your twat, laying major pipe. You aren't happy 'till your muff has been rodded-out. Bitch! Cheap, lowlife trash!" Energized thrusts replaced steady pounding, indicative of unbridled anger.
Kathy was euphoric. His expanse of beef brushed her clitoris with the proper amount of traction to incite disruptive spasms. Already, she detected the advancing tremors of the march, in pursuit of liberation. When Kathy ventured to this point, she knew climax was inevitable despite any attempts to prolong ensuing passion. Instead of drawing away from the intoxicating mood, she embraced it, clinging to Charlie as his recoil-operating dong urged weakness to possess her. Each authoritative plunge into her sopping slot was a brusque statement, warranting feeble reciprocation. Kathy closed her eyes and let his powered strokes navigate her path toward certain release.
"Charlie....ohhhhh!" she exhaled in short-winded ecstasy. Creaming was an act of coercion. "Pump me full of come! Now! I want your jism flooding my cunt!"
Kathy need not invite the mass exodus of nutmeg into her love tunnel, as it gushed torrentially into her steam pit. Bastions of beef blew into her beaver as Charlie emitted his fiery potential with a hoarse cry of victory. The two rattled the tree with such vigor that it was nearly uprooted!
When all was done and Charlie, smiling beatifically in aftermath's glow, withdrew from his menacing stance, he examined Kathy's contented features for the first time since plugging her with prick.
"Hey ... you're not Suzy!"
"No kidding. But why cry over spilt come? Put it in again, loverboy, and let's party 'til we drop!"
"There she is!"
"We've got her cornered!"
"Get her! Get the bitch!"
Suzy looked about helplessly as her former sexual partners gathered in force, surrounding her at the pool area. She'd purposely disguised herself as a Swahili tourist, but was unable to compile the list of articles needed to affect realism. Gerry Domboneski, Terry McGroyn, Tom Even, Charlie Jagger and scores of strapping studs formed a menacing circle around her. She floundered helplessly in their pervasive presence!
"Attention!"
"Come on guys, give a girl a break," she attempted lightness to camouflage her terror. "Present arms!"
The multitude of men dropped their swim trunks and gripped their jutting dicks, aiming them with deft precision at Suzy.
"Right shoulder arms. Left shoulder arms."
Feverishly, they then yanked. Furious masturbatory movements were issued, with pudd-pulling at its most organized.
"Hey, just a minute!" Suzy interjected. "I think you've taken this entirely to an extreme level...."
"Order arms!"
Suzy cringed. Was she the target of a bizarre shooting match? Did they mean to foist her into a seminal firing squad? The notion seemed preposterous, yet she never doubted for a moment that their cocks weren't loaded. Had everyone taken a leave of their sanity? From the glazed look in their eyes, they meant business.
"You're all demented!" she charged. "Unbalanced! Reprobative. Deviates. And ... if I get one lousy drop on my Yves St. Laurent swimwear, you'll be sent the cleaning bill!"
From between Suzy's legs, an androgynous voice expounded, "SLIME ME! SLIME ME, BOYS!"
"Fire!"
SQUIRT! SQUIRT! SQUIRT!
Suzy grimaced as ejaculate poured from the heavens. Her face, her hair and her revered bikini were soiled with spewed seed. The timing, the choreography and the dash of flamboyance resembled a Busby Berkey Production!
"At ease!"
Christine clucked wickedly from the sidelines. "I'm glad the little bitch got it. She had it coming!"
Rosemary, having witnessed the debacle, nodded in agreement. Tonight had ended in a comedy of errors. Tomorrow, most would fly home and to lives filled with order, while new vacationists landed on Desire Island and beckoned to a week of mixed frivolity. She could virtually see the throng deplane and head directly to the infirmiry where the resident nurse would dispense penicillin shots as part of orientation. Oh well, at least she's acquired basic training and was prepared to do battle with her mother and that pervert, Dr. Miller.
"Hello, Christine," warmed a familiar voice from behind.
Christine whirled upon her ex-husband, Frank and let out a startled gasp. "What are you doing here?"
He whispered something in her ear. A second later, with the color draining from her face, she nodded her consent and they departed.
"I wonder what that was all about," Rosemary remarked to Olivia Barrett, who siddled up next to her.
"I think he mentioned something about having plastic explosives attached to his body, and that it was best to leave peaceably with him."
"My goodness!"
"Yes, isn't it?" Olivia, scoring triumph, latched her arm through Rosemary. "Come on, dear. The night's still young. Let's stop at my suite for a nightcap and trade war stories. I'm sure you'll be amused...."
