Paula Cash - Closet Queen

“They'll make a new friend tonight," he chuckled.

He peeled down her pantyhose and panties, exposing the creamy, bare flesh. She got goose-bumps of excitement as he bit and nibbled on the yielding flesh of her rear. He teased her crack with his tongue. That was when she blurted out the story of Alien and his tongue-reaming. In a flash John Wallace washed off her seam and gave her hot reaming on her pucker, which made her tense her legs and gasp in sheer delight.

"I'm going crazeeeee," she wailed. "Rub my clit-I-I have to go.”

His gentle finger sunk between her cunt lips and found her central joy spot. His avid tongue kept firing up those nerves that protected her butt hole. She tensed her buttocks, lifted, fell back, squirmed and panted.

"Holy-holy-oh, ooohhh! I'm goooiiiiing," she sang.

The best part about an orgasm was the swift, inevitable rise to the throbbing sex death. She gurgled impossible things as he pinioned her and took her to glory, finally locking her legs, freezing her belly and buttocks and spending off for him with magnificent spasms of both her asshole and cunt. Wham, wham, wham. It was the most delicious ass tonguing she'd ever felt, because John was a master and unafraid. At last she went passive and glowing, the first part of her anal trip exquisite and yet only a prelude to the main act.

She laid there squeezing her toes in delight as he undressed and got ready to cornhole her. It was so terrific to find herself secure with him, alone in this room, about to enjoy perverted sex. There were no fingers to point, no secret, repulsive thoughts going on in his head for her to worry about. They were birds of a feather. What a shame she hadn't known this last August.

His prick looked red and fussed and she worried that he might not have lasting power. As she lay there on the bed, her young, adult body nude, her creamy skin moist with sex desire, her beautiful buttocks with the dark, inviting crack open to him, she guessed he was about out of his mind. How many good looking young girls could he approach and ask for anal sex?

"Now, Abby, baby, don't worry about what happens," he told her. "If you like it even a little bit, it'll be a great trip.”

Then he parted her buttocks and greased her seam with Vaseline, working her sphincter. She thrilled to the exotic pressure. Over her shoulder she could see his prick and his face. His prick, which had loosened a little, now tightened to such a rock hardness that it got a slight bow in it. The congested blood made it almost purple. His face was a symphony of delight and wonder, as if he had experienced a miracle that might fade at any moment.

"You're an ass-hound, all right," he laughed.

His probing finger met minimal resistance. More than once in the secrecy of her bed alone, Abby had assaulted her ass-button for the high thrills it provided. Sometimes she masturbated with one hand while she cornholed herself with the other, a dark secret she'd never reveal to anyone else. She loved the slide of hard flesh on the tender mucous membranes just inside her hole. In point of fact, she'd trained that highly sensitive area to respond to sex stimulation, another example of the high adaptability of the human body.

He pulled up her butt, knelt behind her, and fitted the knob of his cock to her sphincter.

Golden moment. She felt her heart pump rapidly, her body alive to this perverted cock invasion. It was authentic kinkiness, a total perversion, or misuse of both his cock and her ass for sexual purposes. It was far past kid stuff like sucking, whipping, bondage and those perversions that didn't involve a true lock of cock and body hole.

She knew it would hurt, but in her white hot desire to experience a full ass fuck she didn't care. He did it expertly. With his cock heavily greased, he took hold of her hips and lanced her asshole like a doctor plunges a needle into the flesh while giving a shot. It would've taken considerable work with a non-anal girl to loosen her sphincter. With an ass-wild girl, he violated her ruthlessly with a powerful fuck stroke.

Her sphincter caved in while her eyes went wild, her heart raced, and her nerves thrilled and sang in ecstasy. A cock was far bigger than a finger and she couldn't believe the cruel strain of her tight muscle opening for that rape stroke.

There was a massive shock of pain, fear and embarrassment at taking his cock into that private hole. There was thick oil and hard meat friction on her interior tissues that she already associated with hot sex. She gave a groan.

"Oh, noooo. So hard-so fast.”

He gripped her hips and forced her ruthlessly, her tunnel unsealing to this strange invader, and it seemed to her that every nerve in her lower body quivered with the intensity of mixed pain and pleasure.

"Deep, deep," he intoned, like a man drugged.

His cock oozed, up, up, up, driving her crazy. She'd never felt so open, so violated, so exposed to the harsh world, as quivering pink and tender tissues were forced to accept his deep penetration. She thought he must surely tear gaps in her sensitized flesh and destroy her. His average-sized prick felt like a ball-bat up there.

He gave a cry of inarticulate delight. She actually felt his cock throb in her tight tunnel and then he exploded. She jumped as if shot at his fast bursts of jissum.

"Oh, oh,-ohhhh, noooo," she wailed.

She was hot and he'd already faded.

"Not… to worry," he gasped. "You'll see.”

He lay on her while his cock ejaculated body hot semen that burned and oiled her ass. Then he began to move, slowly, and she felt the true wonder of good anal sex. Her asshole was stretched, but the pain was gone. The Vaseline made the cock friction sexy for both of them. Added to that was the wonderful spill he'd just pumped into her, giving her tunnel a silken, creamy feel.

His cock did not soften. He kept working it up and down her bowels, lifting her to higher and higher heights of pleasure now that her fear was gone. The forceful action moved the skin of her entire crotch so that even her clit got stimulation. When he tried to finger inside her cunt, she pushed his hand away.

"No. Do it all-with cock-in my ass," she begged. It was her chance of a lifetime to explore her anal urge to the extreme and see if she could go to orgasm from the cornhole action.

She knew she could. For once those sensitive nerves, thick around her sphincter, got plenty of stimulation to send hot messages deep inside her body. For another thing, she thrilled to the forced action, the natural function of hollow muscles to expel. This gave her wild rushes of delight, because in a perverse way, most of the pleasure came from the back-stroke of his cock, not the penetration.

She grunted as he thrust forward, finding the invasion of his prick vaguely unpleasant and somewhat alarming. She cooed when he slid back, the hot, pink tissues thrilling at her gut power. She could pinch down on her anal passage as well, if not better, than with her cunt to tighten on his cock.

John was completely out of the world. Forced to restrain or even hide his urge from the women he dated as a widower, he found himself ass-fucking a luscious young girl who wanted a hot cock up her rectum. She quivered under him, rich buttocks working, tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing, smooth flesh and muscle caressing his belly. It felt like his cock drove to the deepest, most sensitive part of her being on each stroke, and he felt her insides shift in little spasms as he found new nerves to fire with his plunging prick.

"Don't understand-why-best fucking," he went.

It was true that in normal sex he was good for only one good session a week. In anal sex, his cock was a tiger. Too excited to hold back, he always burst once he'd forced a woman's ass open to his depth. But his prick stayed hard and then he could rock in her and whip up a new bath of sperm from the crazy friction.