Emerson Taylor: Bitch mother

The extreme position she had adopted robbed her of most of her mobility, which was the basis for her main complaint against it. Paul preferred his women to be virtually immobile while they were being fucked. He had mentioned once that the women in the movies they occasionally saw had to be exceptionally depraved to mount a man and moved their bodies in such lascivious ways; it never occurred to him that his own hangups might be equally remarkable, and Marie knew better than to suggest such a notion to him.

Paul Ryan was an extremely complex man, no doubt of that. He had no compunctions about using his position as chairman of Midwood's school board to pressure the more attractive women teachers into going to bed with him, notwithstanding his reputation as a pillar of his local church and his married state. Hypocrites came in all shapes, sizes and colors, as Marie well knew, but she had never seen a more flagrant case than Paul Ryan. Still, for all his moral duplicity he was a man, she had to admit that, and the small, rural township of Midwood did not exactly have an abundance of attractive single men to squire her about. Except for the basketball coach who had left Midwood after one year, Marie had not screwed a man since her husband had left her two years ago – not until Paul Ryan had begun paying attention to her.

At thirty-seven, Marie seemed to be coming into her sexual prime, at least as far as her enjoyment was concerned. Never before had she ever wanted men so much, she thought, nor had she ever felt as much outright pleasure at having one, even so mediocre a fuck as Paul Ryan. There were days when her desire for a cock was so strong that she could almost feel one of the big, hot tools sliding into her cunt, which seemed to stay on a low boil at an times. Her taste for sperm was stronger than ever, too.

Paul leaned farther over her and extended his legs to the rear until he was supporting all his weight on his extended arms and the balls of his feet. His cock pointed straight down into her cunt and slithered in and out as he bounced up and down on her. Marie looked down and saw the thick spike plunging in and out of her; her cunt had already coated it with a rich coat of her juices. She remembered some of the scenes they had seen in the sex movies, and knew that Paul was consciously copying what he had seen there. A memory of those scenes flashed into her own mind and lent an added thrill to her enjoyment of the steady thrusting.

She knew that her asshole, tightly stretched and puckered, would be extremely visible. She could imagine the lips of her pussy stretching outward as he pulled his thick cock out, then being pushed down into the outer fold as he drove in once more. The sight of a hot, fat-lipped pussy being fucked had always struck her as sensual in the extreme and there had been a time, with Steve, when they had rarely balled without arranging mirrors around their bed so they could see themselves from a variety of angles. Paul's willingness to copy the styles of fucking they had seen on film would not extend to the final phase of the act, she knew, and this she found a source of occasional regret.

Ordinarily Marie would have preferred having her man shoot his balls off into her cunt, or possibly in her mouth or asshole, but there were times – perhaps once a week – when she would have liked for him to pull his prick out before coming and let her finish him with her hand. The mere thought of holding a big, hot cock, all slippery with cunt juices and fresh from her body, and fist-fucking it until the cum burst out in a fiery flood was enough to bring a low, guttural moan of desire to her throat.

Paul mistook the groan for lust and speeded up his plunging. Marie started to correct him, then gave it up; she would be able to excite herself enough to join him in his climax, she knew, and the hour was late enough that they ought to be getting back to Midwood anyway. She brought her hands up to her big, firm tits and palmed her nipples. The twin cones of lust-darkened flesh, sensitive in the extreme, responded quickly to her caress and transmitted extra amounts of sexual arousal to her nervous system. Her hips tossed jerkily and her cunt twisted around his pistoning cock.

"Unngghh!" he grunted. "God, make me come, honey, my balls are melting!"

"Aurrgghhh! Owwww!" she painted. "Oooh, fuck me, Paul, fuck my cunt off! Anngghh! Aiiieee! Do to me, do it now! I can't hold it any more!"

She shuddered as his prick drove into her pussy to the bans. The wiry hair growing around the base of the tool ground harshly against the lips of her pussy, mashing them against his crotch, and she felt his big, hairy bans scraping against the ultrasensitive mouth of her bung. She jerked up against him and sucked in a deep breath. Her abdominal muscles contracted with violent spasms when the climactic joy burst deep inside her cunt; the long, shuddering spasms caused her cunt to grip his dick tightly again and again. A low, quavering shriek of abandoned joy welled out of her throat when she felt his big cock heave once, then again, and finally begin spurting hot jizz.

Paul's orgasmic spasms never lasted long and the sperm only dribbled out in weak little jets but even so she felt him come. The pleasure of feeling a man's cock deep in her cunt, shuddering and quivering as his balls pumped out the hot cream, was enough to send her further into a delirium of sensual wonder. She continued grinding her hips around the impaling spike and clawed ever more furiously at her throbbing booby.

Just at the moment when Steve would have begun fucking her cunt with renewed fury, seeking to bring her body to another and even more abandoned stage of sexual pleasure, Paul collapsed weakly atop her. He released her legs and spread himself out on her with a long, wheezing gasp of satisfaction. Marie brought her legs down and locked them together around his thighs, giving one last flurry of movement, but she could feel his cock growing limper and smaller by the second. He was finished, she knew, and the knowledge that she had fucked the life out of his cock gave her far less pleasure than she would have liked.

Conceited bastard, she thought grimly. Pop your fucking nuts off and that's it, huh? Damn, what a waste of time! You can't even make a girl come twice!

There was nothing to be done, though. Once Paul had shot his wad, he was finished for the evening. No power on earth, she guessed, could get him aroused once he had emptied his balls in her cunt. He rolled off her with a grunt and lay on his back, dragging his wet, limp prick across her belly as he did so. She looked down at the small tool with a contempt she could barely disguise.

"It's getting late," he muttered.

"Yes, I suppose we ought to be getting back," she agreed, knowing that this was her cue to get moving.

They dressed quickly and left. Marie sat quietly as he drove her back to the spot where she had left her car; she could feel his cum slowly oozing out of her pussy and drenching her panties with its liquid warmth, but she did not move. Her skirt was due for a cleaning anyway.

Paul said little as they drove through the night, and his good-bye, when he pulled up beside her car, was only a perfunctory one. Marie watched him drive off and then, muttering a curse, got into her own car and drove away.

Marie eased her car into the carport beside her house, switched off the engine and went inside. She paused by the kitchen sink to pour herself a very stiff Scotch and water, figuring that the drink would help her relax and forget about the tensions still gnawing at her womb. She carried the drink through the darkened dining room and went directly to her own room, where she put up her purse and quickly undressed. The crotch of her panties was sodden with the sperm which had dripped from her cunt on the ride home; she used a dry portion to wipe off a trickle that ran down her left leg.