David Crane - Horse-loving farm wives

"Ummm… ummm, ummmm…" she purred, as her hungry mouth filled up with Molly's cunt-juice.

Claire realized that cuntsucking came natural to her, as it had to Molly. A woman needed no previous practice or training or experience, but instinctively knew how to eat a pussy. She knew that she was doing the job well because Molly was crying out with the ecstasy of it and churning madly about, working her foaming cunt around in Claire's face and on Claire's stabbing tongue.

Claire used her fingers to spread Molly's cunt-lips wide open and slapped her tongue up the woman's gaping fuck slot. Cunt-juice sprayed out. She fitted her lips to Molly's open pussy and sucked, filling her mouth with juice. She pushed three stiff fingers up Molly's cunthole, finger-fucking her, while she sucked on her throbbing fuck button.

Claire felt as if her mouth was coming.

Her tongue was tingling and her saliva flowed like cunt-juice.

"Come," she whimpered, the word muffled on Molly's pussy. "Come for my tongue, baby!" She was desperate to feel Molly's orgasm flood into her cum-hungry mouth. She continued to finger-fuck Molly's cunthole, driving in to the knuckles, while she tongued and sucked on her clit. Her other hand moved under Molly and she began to finger her asshole, gently probing up the woman's taut brown bud. Molly gasped and jerked. Claire raised Molly's pelvis higher and ran her tongue up the crack of the brunette's ass, then began to rim out her asshole. Molly wailed and humped, thrilled to feel her friend's hot tongue toying with her shit chute.

"Lick my asshole, Claire!" she wailed.

Molly was thinking that she would have to remember to rim out Claire's shitter, too, the next time she went down on the blonde.

Claire tongued out Molly's asshole thoroughly, then moved back to her cunt. She clamped her lips over the woman's hairy, juicy fuckslot and sucked ravenously, stirring her tongue around up inside Molly's flooded cunt tunnel.

"Cream, Molly!" she urged. "Feed me, fuck my tongue!"

Molly humped away on Claire's face, moaning loudly, her body heaving and vibrating. She felt as if Claire's tongue were an electric plug stuck up her socket, galvanizing her.

The rippling thrills built to the crest.

"Ohhhhh! I'm creaming!" she wailed. "Drink my cunt-juice, Claire, suck me dry!"

Her juices poured out, and Claire swallowed them hungrily, greedily sucking for more. She milked Molly's pussy dry, then tongued up the fuck cream from her crotch and from the crack of her ass. At long last, Molly stopped grinding and lay still, panting. Claire took a last slurp on her cunt, then moved up and lay in her arms. They kissed again, not passionately this time, but affectionately, each showing appreciation and gratitude.

"It was good, wasn't it?" Molly murmured.

"God, yes – I love sucking your cunt."

"I'm glad that we did it, Claire. We can do it a lot, from now on, can't we?" Molly asked.

"Ummmm, every day, if you like."

"Ummmm, I like!"

"Who gives a shit if our husbands stay in town overnight, now that we can take care of each other!"

The women were very happy that they had discovered a way to get their rocks off without fucking a man and cheating on their husbands. They didn't realize, yet, that there were other ways to enjoy sex without fucking with a man.

There was, for instance, a big bull mastiff with a hard on.

Mike Rowley drew his pickup truck up into the driveway of the Dupont house and got out. He knew that Harry Dupont would not be at home but, just to be on the safe side, he had brought a table that he had refinished for the Duponts.

Mike was horny.

He had been horny ever since that abortive session with Claire, when he'd played with her tits and she had rubbed his cock and balls through his pants… and then refused to go any further. He had been laid since then – fucking a local farm girl in a haystack, in fact – but he still lusted for elegant, sexy Claire. He had, in his own words, the hots for the blonde.

He intended to have her today, one way or the other. If she was willing, wonderful; if not, he was damned well going to force her. He wasn't worried about being charged with rape. He figured that Claire would not dare let her husband know about that abortive necking session that had inspired his lust.

Tall and good looking, in a rough way, Mike walked up to the front door, carrying the table. He put the table down, then knocked on the door. There was no answer. After a moment, he knocked again. His face had been fixed in a leer, ready to greet the woman when she opened the door. Now the leer became a frown, then a scowl.

Where was that cock-teasing bitch?

He knocked again, savagely.

If that prick-teasing tramp was off getting her ass fucked off by some other guy…

"Damn it, c'mon!" he shouted.

His cock was semi-hard and his balls were full.

Maybe she had just gone to the local store and would be right back, he reasoned. Her car was there, so she couldn't have gone very far… unless she had gone with someone else, some lucky guy! Not that Mike gave a damn if Claire fucked around, as long as he got his share. He figured that once he had fucked her the first time, she would want plenty more of his cock meat. He was looking forward to an affair, fucking her three or four times a week when her husband was in town. It was too good an arrangement to pass up.

Mike decided to wait.

He tried the door.

It opened. He hesitated, then shrugged and took the table into the spacious front hall. He put it down and went through into the large, oak-beamed living room. Mike knew where the liquor cabinet was, since he had fitted it. He poured himself a whisky.

He sat down to wait.

His cock was aching. After a moment he grinned and opened his fly, hauling his cock and balls out. His prick was fully erect now and it was an impressive sight. He gazed down at his fuck meat fondly. He liked his prick for the pleasure it gave him and he admired it for its size and contours.

The knob towered up to his belly button.

His cockhead was dark purple and so hot that it had started to throb. His piss-slit was parted and preliminary jism glistened in the slot. A thick, dark vein pounded up the underside of his prick shaft, and his balls were like over-inflated balloons.

He wrapped his callused fist around the root and gave his cock a long, slow pull.

His prick throbbed in his hand.

If the bitch ain't home soon, I'm gonna just have to beat myself off, he thought. Maybe he could find a bra or a pair of her used panties and shoot his wad into them. It would be better than nothing. But he was determined to wait as long as he could stand it, to keep that big hard-on for Claire, if he could. She had felt his prick, but she hadn't taken it out and seen it. Mike felt confident that once the woman got a look at his impressive cockmeat, she would be unable to resist him, that she would yearn for a cuntful of his big fuck-tool.

Mike sipped his drink.

He gave his prick another slow stroke, causing the knob to flare out like the head of a hooded cobra about to strike as his fist skinned the foreskin back.

Mike grinned at his cock.

What a beauty, he thought.

Mike reckoned that he had the biggest prick in the county.

That wasn't quite true. It was not, for instance, as big as the mastiff's cock, not to mention the stallion!

Molly hadn't bothered to put her clothing on as she escorted Claire to the door. The two women had made plans to get together for another cuntsucking session soon. The prospect was so thrilling that Molly was thinking that she might finger-fuck herself a little, after Claire had left, remembering what they had done.

At the door, they kissed, entwining tongue and rubbing bellies and tits together. Claire was dressed, but Molly was naked, and Claire slipped a hand between the brunette's legs and gave her cunt a squeeze. Molly purred and rubbed against her.