Ray Todd: The family_s naughty habit

"Oh shit!" she screamed with joy. "Oh, sweet fuckin' Jesus, that's good!"

"Hang on, baby!" he roared. "Here it comes, honey. Here it comes!"

"Squirt, honey, squirt!" she shrieked. "I'm coming again, too!"

It felt to her that he was driving that glorious rock-hard cock all the way up into her guts when the man's hot white jizz began spurting against her cunt-wall. Exploding into her third orgasm, Della could feel his thick hot cock-cream flowing into every part of her convulsing slit.

"Oh, sweet baby," she sobbed as the man lay perfectly still over her while his big belching rod shot spurt after spurt of cum into her jizz-flooded twat. "That was so fuckin' wonderful!"

While Della was busy balling with her boss in the motel, her husband, George, was at home watching television. He'd looked forward to this evening as channel 32 was showing a Super Bowl game that had been played six years ago, and George had played one of his best games in this one.

Betty, his eighteen-year-old daughter was sitting by her dad, while her twin brother, Bobby, was sprawled on the floor, watching their father's finest hour.

"Now watch this one," George said, taking a long sip of whiskey from the bottle that was on the floor by his chair. "Watch how I knock that quarterback on his ass on this play."

The three of them watched excitedly as the offensive team broke huddle and lined up over the ball. When it was snapped, a hulk of a man crashed through the line throwing the quarterback for a big loss.

"That's me!" shouted the man. "Boy, did I sack that bastard!"

"Was that really you, Daddy?" Betty asked.

"Sure, dummy," said her brother from the floor. "Can't you tell?"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped at her twin. "I was talking to Daddy."

"Shhhhh," said her father, reaching down for his bottle when the team went into punt formation. "Watch me block that kick."

Once again they stared at the screen as the linebacker crashed through and leaped high in the air, blocking the punted ball with his huge hand.

"Oh, Daddy!" Betty gasped. "You were really good!"

"I know," her father panted excitedly. "I was the best, and I'd still be if it weren't for this damned knee."

George was vividly reliving the game as play after play unfolded before their eyes. He could remember each and every detail of that glorious Sunday afternoon as if it were only yesterday. Watching the game was making him feel youthful and vigorous again. God, how he'd loved the brutality and glory of those wonderful years spent on the gridiron.

When the television show was over and the twins had gone to bed, he continued sipping from his bottle, reliving the game in his mind. Helped by the booze, he seemed to be feeling stronger and er than he'd felt in years. In his foggy state of mind, George's thoughts turned to Della and the lusty way he used to fuck her. George suddenly wished she were home so he could slam his cock up her cunt like he did in the good old days. If she hadn't had to work tonight, Della could have watched him on television and she would have felt the same excitement he was feeling. Despite the large amount of booze he'd consumed, he was getting a hard-on as he thought about his wife. He became so sexually amused that the thought of jacking off crossed his mind, but he decided to wait and shoot his hot load into Della's cunt when she got home.

George was slouched in the chair, half smashed, when Della walked in shortly before midnight.

"Hi," she smiled, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Hello, sugar," he slurred, rising unsteadily to his feet. "You sure missed my old game an television tonight."

"I'm sorry," she smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Shit, yes," he chuckled, holding to the back of the chair for support. "I think I'm the best fuckin' football player in the world."

"That's nice," she sighed, noticing the empty bottle on the carpet next to his chair.

"Don't you think I'm the best fuckin' linebacker in the world?" he slurred.

"I'm sure you are," she answered to appease him, realizing for the first time how drunk he was.

Clinging to the rail as he struggled up the stairs to his bedroom, his stiff boner was throbbing wildly in his pants. He could hardly wait to stuff it up between Della's legs.

Completely exhausted from the thorough fucking she'd had from her boss, Della dropped into bed when George staggered into the bathroom.

"Della," he called out as he returned to the bedroom with his stiff cock thrusting up from his naked loins. "Look what I have for you."

Opening her eyes, Della was shocked at the sight of the gnarly shaft he was lewdly grasping in his hands. Right now, the last fucking thing she needed was her husband's hard cock. She was completely fucked out and was in no condition to take another dick into her weary pussy.

"Oh, honey," she sighed, not wanting to hurt him. "I'm so pooped tonight."

"Don't worry," he slurred, pulling back the covers. "This nice big cock is just the tonic you need."

"Please, George," she whispered, suddenly wishing she didn't always sleep in the nude. "I just couldn't."

"Sure you can, baby," he laughed, throwing his massive body down over hers. "My fuckin' cock won't take no for an answer tonight."

With his enormous body pressed down on hers, Della could hardly breathe. The feel of his big hot cock digging into the soft flesh of her bare tummy was filling her with disgust. The last thing she wanted was to be mauled by this huge drunken bear.

"Goddamn it, George!" she shouted. "Leave me alone."

"Ah, shit," he laughed, prying her naked thighs apart so he could force his dick into the hot moistness of her cunt. "You're gonna love it!"

"NO!" she shrieked. "Keep your fuckin' hands away from me!"

"Stop that bullshit," he panted, trying to force the head of his swollen prick between her cuntlips. "You're gonna love it!"

"You rotten bastard!" Della cried, slapping him across the face with all her strength. "I told you to leave me alone!"

He just stared at her in stunned silence. In their seventeen years of marriage, neither of them had ever struck the other.

"Della," he gasped.

"I'm sorry," the woman sobbed, "but I think you'd better sleep in the guest room tonight."

Numbed and shocked, George slowly crawled out of the bed and staggered down the ball toward the spare room, his amused cock thrusting up in front of him. Grasping his throbbing dick, the man began masturbating as he walked. He had to release that big load in his balls, and the only way was by jacking off. With his mind completely fogged by the alcohol, George leaned back against the wall to support himself while he stood there wildly stroking his throbbing boner. Sliding his thick foreskin back and forth over his bloated cockhead, he could feel an ejaculation building up deep in his loins.

He was about to spray a hot load of jizz all over the carpet when he suddenly heard sobs and moans coming from Betty's room. Only faintly aware of what he was doing, he quickly opened the door and staggered in to investigate the trouble. He could hardly believe his bleary eyes when he saw his daughter writhing around nakedly on the bed.

The teen's legs were opened wide, her knees drawn up and the middle finger of Betty's right hand was plunging in and out of her wet pussy. The fingers of her left hand were squeezing the big swollen nipples on her newly sprouting tits. Her big blue eyes were tightly closed and a series of cries and moans were coming from deep in her throat.

George hadn't seen his daughter nude since she was a small child, and the sight of her slit started his cock throbbing even harder. The wet pinkness of her slippery cuntlips was surrounded by a swirl of golden, downy-soft pussy hair. A stream of twat juice was oozing from her slit and covering her plunging finger with a thick film of slippery fluid.