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David Crane: Mom_s donkey urge

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David Crane Mom_s donkey urge

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A last wild spasm rattled her and Valerie gasped and slid back in the chair, smiling. Her hands continued to move, making sure she had worked off every pulsing thrill. Her excitement ebbed slightly. But as she continued to rub her pussy, her clit began to tighten again. With scarcely a pause, the oversexed woman was working herself back up towards a second coming.

She hoped Linda took a long, long walk.

Valerie wanted to frig her cunt for hours.

And then the donkey brayed.

As Valerie creamed, the fragrance of her cunt got hotter and tangier and muskier. Her cunt juice turned to cum cream and the spicy aroma filled the mountain cabin and seeped from the walls and drifted out to the shed at the back, where the donkey stood, his prick still pounding. His soft, moist nostrils twitched and flared. As the scent registered, his cock pounded like a jackhammer and his enormous balls rolled between his hind legs.

He snorted and brayed in desperation.

Valerie heard the beast's plaintive cry. Her hands shoved into her groin. She remembered how huge and hard and hot that beast's prick had been – and, no doubt, still was. The memory inspired her anew and she began rubbing her cunt furiously, spreading the wet cuntlips open and fingering her inner folds. Her clit jumped out, tingling. Frothy rivulets of cunt juice spiraled down the inner rings of her fuck tunnel and spilled from out her fiery pussyslot.

Again came that mournful wail from the beast in the shed.

And again her hand slowed.

If it was thrilling to frig herself while thinking about the donkey's cock and balls, how much more thrilling would it be to be looking at his cock while she creamed! She shook her head, her mind clouded by desire. The image tumbled, but remained. It was as if the vision of the dumb brute's prick had been branded into her brain. She frowned, ashamed of her unholy fantasies. But shame was a feeble emotion, easily melted in the heat of lust. Valerie smiled, her mind made up.

She would go out to the shed and feast her eyes on the donkey's cock and balls while she finger-fucked her pussy to another dynamic climax.

It wasn't really wicked, she assured herself. Looking at him was not much more naughty than thinking about him – and that was certainly all that she intended to do. To her credit, Valerie really believed that. And, in case there were any doubts in her mind, she actually said it aloud.

"I'll just look at his cock," she said.

Then, as if reassured, she nodded.

She was no pervert. She was not depraved. She would never actually do anything with an animal… she thought.

CHAPTER THREE

Michelle Warden heard her husband's footsteps on the steps and then moving across the porch, and she wondered why his gait sounded so unsteady. He seemed to be staggering. She hoped he hadn't driven himself to the point of exhaustion as he chopped the firewood.

Then he entered the cabin and she saw why his stride had been unsteady. It was anything but exhaustion.

His hard-on was so huge that the fucking thing was almost throwing him off balance. The front of his jeans jutted out with a great, throbbing lump of cockmeat that was threatening to rip right through the fabric of his pants.

He halted just inside the door.

The two well-drained dogs looked up from where they were curled in the corner and wagged their tails feebly in greeting to their master.

He glanced down at them, noticing how slimy the heads of their pricks were and how their hairy cocksheaths were matted with cunt cream. It didn't bother him at all. He turned his gaze on his wife, and Michelle smiled.

"You got the fucking ax jammed down the front of your pants, or what?" she said, with a certain indelicacy of phrase common to her.

Dick grinned and pulled his zipper down, having some difficulty tugging it over the cock-bulge. His fly gaped open in a wedge and his cock came leaping out like a heat-seeking guided missile. Michelle's eyes widened. It was a cock that she knew well but seldom had she seen it this big and hard. The sight caused the core of her fuck-hole to tremble.

He reached in and hauled his balls out, revealing all of his massive meatrack to her gleaming gaze. Jamming his hips forward, he thrust his prick towards her. It was a truly impressive sight. His cockhead was a huge, mushroom-shaped slab of swollen purple meat, and his cockshaft was long and thick and gnarled by dark, pulsing veins as fat as Michelle's finger. At the root of that fleshy tower, his balls were inflated like balloons.

"Ooooh," Michelle sighed happily.

Michelle was insatiable. Although she had just creamed very nicely on both of the hounds' cocks, she was eager for a cuntful of human cockmeat now.

He moved toward her and her eyes crossed as she turned her vision in upon his looming cockhead. His prick was so long that, as he looked at his wife, he seemed to be aiming at her over the tip of his cockhead, as if it were a gunsight. He squinted. His prick-knob pulsed. The dark veins pounded up the underside of his prick, spreading out under his cock-knob.

Buck yelped. Old Blue whimpered. The dumb brutes sensed that there was more action ahead. Like their master, they didn't object to sharing Michelle between them in a bizarre sort of threesome – and they probably didn't notice that the man's cock was even bigger than theirs.

But, although he didn't mind that his wife was fucking the dogs, Dick didn't care to have them around when he was taking his own turn up her fuck-hole. He knew how excited the hounds could get and had a fear of suddenly finding himself with an asshole full of dog prick, by mistake.

"Out!" he commanded.

The well-trained hounds got to their feet and moved reluctantly to the door of the cabin. Their semi-hard pricks swung under them as, haunches lowered, they left the room.

Michelle hoped that, if Dick had noticed the state of their pricks, he failed to make the logical connection. But his eyes were on her, ignoring the animals. Then she wondered if he might notice the dog cum on her belly and thighs and become very justifiably suspicious. She figured her husband might object to taking sloppy thirds after his own dogs. She slid her hands inside her robe and moved them around in her crotch. Then, letting the robe fall open, she rubbed one slippery hand on her trim belly and drew the other caressingly up the inside of her thigh. Cunt cream glistened on her hot flesh, camouflaging the incriminating canine cum with her own juices. She leaned back, supported on her elbows. Her legs were apart, her bushy, creamy cunt thrusting upwards.

Dick stepped up to her. Folding his fist around the hilt of his cockshaft, he tugged back, skinning the cock-knob out in a flaring wedge. It was a mouth watering sight. Michelle leaned forward. Her flaming-red hair tumbled over his belly and thighs.

Her tongue flicked against his cock-knob.

"Ummm – yummy," she purred.

"Yeah, baby – lick my cock," he rasped.

That was no hardship. Michelle began to lave all over that succulent slab of purple prickmeat. Her tongue was nimble, sliding and slurping around the bulging contours, flicking against the tip, probing gently into his seeping pisshole. Pre-cum seeped onto her tastebuds, whetting her appetite. Her saliva drooled down his cockstalk as she slobbered heavily on the crown, her head turning from side to side as if pivoting on the end of his fuck-pole.

Dick's ass tightened and shoved, stabbing his prick up into her face. The cocktip bumped against her lips, then slipped into her mouth as she let her lips part around the hot wedge. With his cockhead buried in her mouth, his long, thick cockshaft stood out between his balls and her lips, like a hollow, tubular pipe linking them together, designed to let his jism flow from balls to mouth.

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