David Ingram - Hot bed family

"You're damn right you can be glad, because the first thing I'd do if you were, is insist that you stop fucking with your mother."

"Ouch!" Tommy said, almost laughing. "That hurts, baby. You know, I never told anyone else; I don't know why I told you. It just came out."

"You really fuck with your own mother?" Linda asked.

"I said I did, didn't I? And she's a damn good lay, too. Dad was gone a lot and she got lonely. I was only twelve when she seduced me the first time. After that it was a regular thing whenever Dad was gone. She's only eighteen years older than me, and built great for her age. Hell, she's almost as young as your mother." He gave her a sly gain. "Doesn't look quite as good, though."

"You rotten bastard, keep my mother out of this."

"Just kidding, baby. Kidding aside, though, learning about sex from your own mother has its points."

"It seems perverted to me. And dirty."

"And fucking with the best man in a church pew a day before you get married doesn't?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not the same." All of a sudden Linda felt dirty because she had fucked with her daddy, and she didn't like the feeling. "You're a bastard, Tommy, a real bastard. I don't think I like you very much, in fact, not at all."

She got to her feet and started from the pew. Tommy grabbed her wrist and spun her back to him. As she spun around, she saw Joan and her father slip down from the choir loft. She also saw the preacher slink into the shadows.

"Hold on, honey," Tommy growled. "You're going with me."

"Okay, Tommy," Linda said softly. "Is there someplace we can go? I don't like to make love in a car."

Tommy grinned. "I can get another motel room."

"And we'll take our time and do it right this time. Okay?" Linda said. "And let's get a bottle and get drunk. I want to get drunk… good and drunk. And we can fuck all night."

She pulled free from his grip and headed for the door.

After Dan and Joan came down from their love nest in the choir loft and Dan saw Linda and Tommy leaving together, he offered Joan a ride home.

"Thanks, Dan, but Rick is coming for me. He should be here any minute, and… Jesus, Jesus, you'll have to excuse me, Dan. I have to piss something fierce." She clutched at her crotch and made a wild dash for the potty in the church basement.

Her bladder was overflowing and the insides of her thighs were wet from the leakage, the hot fluid squeezing out with every step she took. She'd felt the urge even before Dan fucked her in the loft, and it was unbearable now.

Rushing into the toilet stall, Joan lifted her skirt. Her piss poured out.

"Oh, my God," she giggled, remembering her panties were on the floor in the choir loft, and then sighed with relief as her bladder emptied. Her hand went between her wet legs and she sighed again.

What Joan didn't know, was that her soiled panties weren't on the floor in the choir loft; they were tucked snugly inside the breast pocket of the preacher's coat.

After she had finished, she continued to straddle the bowl, her skirt held high, and she rubbed briskly at her distended clit. It was feeling good already. It would be her third spend, the most in such a short time since having the baby. She was near her climax when she sensed his presence in the doorway. She looked up and saw the good Reverend holding the booth door open, his eyes aglow with lust, his mouth open.

"Please, please, let me kiss it!" he cried, his voice little more than a strangled gasp.

"Why preacher man, what are you doing here?" Joan cried in mock surprise.

She spread her legs farther apart and lifted her skirt higher, her hand working at her excited cunt.

"Do you want to look at it?" she said, removing her hand.

"I want to suck it. Please, please…"

Joan held her skirt high with both hands. "Why, Reverend, you're a naughty, naughty man," she said.

Her cunt was covered with curly hair several shades darker than her blonde head, and it was wet, decidedly wet. She stepped away from the bowl, moved her feet wide apart, and arched herself out to him in invitation.

"Well, don't just stand there like a dummy; suck it, if that's what you want."

The preacher dropped to his knees, grabbed her by the hips, and jammed his face into her curly bush. He sucked at the wet hair and ran his tongue back and forth in her gash. He moved his head down and kissed and licked the insides of her piss-wet thighs. He moved back up, and when his lips and tongue invaded the hairy thing between her legs, Joan gasped with pleasure and pushed down against his sucking mouth.

"Do you like it?" she purred, pushing hard against him. "The hair's not all grown out yet, but it's still nice and fuzzy for you to suck on. I have a lot of hair when it's all grown out."

Joan loved a head job best of all, and even though she had made it with Dan twice, she knew she would be quick in coming now. His tongue was deep in her cunt and his teeth scraped at her clit; and the good feeling was there. She gave a little squeal when she came.

Her legs were as far apart as they would go, and when the preacher's hand came up over her ass, his finger found her bunghole stretched open and waiting. He pushed in to the first knuckle, then all the way. Joan grunted when he first penetrated her there, and followed it with it deep-throated growl as she started coming again. Her whole midsection quivered, her knees buckling, and if it weren't for the support of the preacher's mouth, she would have fallen.

"Oh, Christ, I'm coming so hard!" she moaned. "You really suck good, preacher man."

The preacher pulled his finger from her ass and got to his feet, his face a mask of lust. "Let me… let me fuck you now!" he cried.

"Hell no," Joan said, letting her skirt fall back in place.

"God, please… I have to fuck you!" he whined.

"I don't want you to fuck me. I already made it… twice," she said.

She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open, exposing both her fat, milk-swollen tits, the nipples a deep red and as hard as marble. Next, she reached down and opened his fly, her hand moving inside. The preacher groaned when her warm hand closed around his throbbing cock. She pulled it out and started slowly stroking the long stem of turgid flesh.

"If you suck on my titties, I'll jack you off," she said.

"No, no, no! I want to fuck you!" he whined.

"You can't fuck me!" she snapped. "And if you don't suck on my tits, I won't even jack you off." She let his cock fall from her hand.

He gave her a sick look and dropped his face to her breasts. "God forgive!" he wailed, then sucked one of her large nipples into his mouth.

Joan grasped his prick again and drew the skin back off his glans. He had a long, thin prick, almost pointed on the end like a dog's, and the foreskin was thick and long. She masturbated him slowly, pulling the foreskin all the way up and then as far down as it would go. The urge to bend and take his funny-looking cock in her mouth was strong, but she resisted, her hand increasing the length of her strokes as well as the speed.

He was drawing milk from her breast, the thin, watery fluid sweet and delicious. And then with a grunt, he came against her leg with a gush, the thick stuff spitting out in huge, endless gobs. She milked him dry, catching the stuff that only oozed out in her palm.

"Maybe after the wedding tomorrow I'll suck your cock, preacher man. You have such a nice long pecker, I might even let you fuck me," Joan said. "But you better get the hell out of here now before my husband comes down and catches you."

The preacher fled from the bathroom with his limp pecker hanging from his open fly. He felt humiliated and ashamed of himself. His long suffering wife deserved better.

Joan grinned and scooped the milky pool from her palm with her tongue. It was hot, hot and slippery. She reached down and wiped the slime from her leg, licking her hand clean again. She let the stuff slide around in her mouth for several minutes before swallowing. The stringy goo burned all the way down.