F. Hemmingway - The kidnapped couple

Harry's body jerked. "Christ!" he grunted. "I don't know how much of that I could take!"

"Does it feel good… darling!"

"Too damn good! It feels like it'd make me cum… in about fifteen seconds!"

Experimentally, then, she ran it lower, until it was grazing the brownish, crinkled flesh of his anal opening. The vibrator made him jump, again, as powerful sensations flooded through him, and his massive cock began to throb, violently, in her hand. "Take it away!" he ordered. "It's too much! Too much!"

"Okay!" She snapped it off. "Now… you know what it does to me!"

"Yeah… but you can just keep popping! A man can't do that! There's a need for a little rest… in between times… so it's different!"

Tossing the vibrator to the foot of the big, double bunk bed, she held his pulsing cock in both hands, and her honeyed mouth came down to it, her ovaled lips encompassing the bloated head with warm moistness. Involuntarily, his prick kept jerking in her mouth, and the very thought of what she was doing gave him a large, erotic charge… as usual. It was the lewdness… the salaciousness of it, almost as much as the intensity of the keening sensations her mouth brought him, that seemed to increase his pleasure in it, giving him an added sense of voluptuousness.

Now, she held the massive length of his cock with one hand, again, while the other massaged his balls, below, caressingly, being careful not to hurt them; meanwhile, her cheeks began to hollow as she sucked on the head of his cock, rhythmically.

"God! That's sweet! You're mouth's just like honey… Vivian!" he moaned.

Her head began to bob up and down on him, her mouth absorbing more and more of his hard flesh with each steady stroke, while inside, her tongue swirled in wild circles around his throbbing cock's head. On the up-strokes he felt her trying to force the tip of her tongue into the split at the top.

Tensing his loins, he thrust his hips up at her face to drive his prick deeper into her mouth and throat. He saw it all go in… all the way to the root, as her nose was mashed into the curly cushion of his pubic hair. With a moan, he began to move in and out of her mouth, in rhythmic counterpoint to her bobbing head, her mouth a substitute cunt.

Harry was lost in a morass of all-consuming, pleasure sensations, centered there in his cock in Vivian's mouth. He watched almost as though he were in a trance, as her mouth began to move up and down the length of his shaft with increasing speed and pressure, her tongue executing an extra swirling lick to his lust-inflated cock's head on every outward stroke, and her lips seeming to nibble their way back, again, as she took his cock deep into her throat.

His wife's face, working over his loins was changed, and he realized that she, too, was in a sexual rapture of her own. Her eyes were closed. Her breath was gasping in her throat. It never failed to amaze him. Damn! She puts so much into it… now! He was glad, all over again, that he was still married to her. God…! And, we came so close to calling it quits!

Then, her long, straight black hair, hanging down in lustrous cascades over his loins caught his attention, and he reached out to her head with both hands, to guide her up and down the demanding shaft of his wildly throbbing cock. Ever more forcefully he thrust his hips up at her, driving his cock, relentlessly, into her mouth, and he watched with fascination as little ragged flanges of the inside of her lips was pulled out to slide along his length on each upward bob of her head, then it was all stuffed back in again, as her head came downward and he thrust up hard at her face. Her cheeks hollowed, too, as she sucked, hungrily, on him, almost constantly.

Suddenly, all the gathering sensations were concentrated in the blood-inflated head of his cock. He felt it jerk and throb, insanely, and it seemed to grow larger with every ecstatic, pulsing, while his wife's tongue swirled and tantalized it on every stroke.

He knew he would have to cum… soon. It was getting nearer, for he could feel the searing burn of it deep in his groin, as the impatiently waiting load of sperm began to demand its release, like a dammed up stream pushing with relentless force against the face of a mighty dam.

Words tumbled from his mouth. "Oh, Christ… that's good! A little more… just a little more… Vivian… and I'll cum! Just a little… while… now…! AAAaaaauuuuuuggghh! Christ!"

Strangling, unintelligible sounds replaced the words. He gasped for breath. It was almost there… for him! He was going to cum… now! Furiously, he rammed his hips up against his wife's sucking mouth, fucking blindly, animalistically, now, into the surrogate cunt of her oral cavern. He looked down to see the steel-hard rigidity of his spewing cock go all the way to the hilt. She had taken all of him… every last fraction of an inch. Her nose was mashed flat against the hardness of his pubic bone, and he saw that she was struggling with her breathing at the same time as she attempted to swallow his ejaculate.

His sperm pumped through him, explosively; the jet of hot, white viscous semen hosed through the length of him to spray from the slitted tip in the lust-bloated head of his cock deep into the honeyed moistness of her frantically swallowing throat.

"Now!" he grunted. "I'm cumming… now!"

Roughly, his hard hands on her head pulled her mouth down hard on his spewing prick, and his hips moved, spasmodically, up at her, driving his cock deep into her throat, immobilizing her, as he shot his cum into her mouth, forcing her to swallow the viscid liquid to keep from gagging. It lasted for several cruel moments, until at last his body relaxed and he flopped back on the bed with a loud groan of satisfaction.

Then, gently now, realizing that he had treated her more roughly than he had intended, his hands traced down across her cheeks, and he moaned, "Vivian… honey… that was out of this world!"

By degrees, his big cock began to deflate in her mouth, but she kept sucking and nibbling on it until every drop of his sperm had been consumed; then, sighing, audibly, she raised her head to look up the barrel-chested, hairy length of his body, as at the same time, she allowed his flaccid, detumescent penis to pull from her mouth. It glistened in the dim light from the moisture of her saliva.

"I'm glad you liked it, darling…" she murmured, looking at him through hot, smoldering eyes. Then, as she slithered up over him, she asked, "Would you like to have a drink… before I hold you to your promise…?"

"Okay!" he agreed. "Mine's double Scotch… on the rocks!"

While Lois tidied up inside the camper, after breakfast, getting everything ship-shape for travel, Stan Brewster put the repaired radio back into the dash and tried it out. He listened, critically, and decided that his tinkering with it had improved the reception. Satisfied with his work, he then checked the outside of the camper, looking at the tires and making sure all was in readiness for travel.

He went to the door, at the rear of the camper, and called inside to his wife, "Are you ready to go, Lois?"

"In just a minute…" she called out, forcing a cheerfulness into her voice that she didn't really feel.

"Well… hurry it up! I'm all set to roll!"

Lois didn't really like the way their vacation was going. They hadn't stopped to enjoy any of the sights. It was just go, go, go! Stan seemed to be more interested in covering miles than enjoying scenery. She had suggested stopping for more than one night, but he had cut her off, curtly, not really listening to her at all. He was going to do it his way… and that's all there was to it!

Finishing up the last of her chores, she came out into the bright morning sunshine. Stan closed and locked the door and settled down into the driver's seat of the truck, while Lois clambered up to sit beside him.