Duncan Fox - Deep throat wife

Hanging along the walls, on meat hooks, were sides of beet and pork and lamb. They looked naked and ashamed without their hides all pink lean and white meat.

"Now," Murph said, gaining assurance from the familiar surroundings, "just what was this order you wanted filled?"

Karen didn't hesitate. She stripped her dress up and off. She shivered, remembering that the ideal storage temperature for meat is about forty degrees. Her tits were hard as rocks.

"How would you like to carve off a piece of this?" she asked, fingering her brown-bushed cunt, rubbing her erect clit.

Murph turned pink. He licked his lips as he studied her. His strong, meat-cutter's hands came up under her jugs, lifted the heavy globes. His thumbs stroked her erect tits. Karen shut her eyes as excitement rushed through her. She imagined being caned up by sharp knives, and shivered as her cunt flooded.

His hands stroked clown her bold naked flanks to her hips. He gripped her crotch, slid his fingers in between her thighs.

"Choice grade?" she asked hotly.

"Prime," he answered. "Strictly prime nicely marbled. Not too much fat. Tender and juicy." He slid a thick finger up into her steaming cunt. She didn't tell him that half the juice there was another man's come. Instead, she spread her thighs and humped her pelvis. He fucked her with his finger, hooked it, so he was lifting her with it. She went up on her toes as be hauled upward on her crotch.

If they hadn't been so cruelly sharp, she would have asked him to hook one of his meat hooks into her snatch. She imagined his finger was one of those shining hooks. She imagined that she was going to be racked next to a side of beef, swung from the ceiling.

He toyed with her twat for a long time, until she was shivering from the cold. Then, with an easy lift of has muscular arms, he boosted her up onto the cutting table. The wood felt cold and greasy under her ass. As she lay back she saw him starting to strip. He was stocky, pale and pink. He had red hair on his chest, and a red bush.

His dick was sturdy and solid, ready to ream her cunt. Karen had the feeling the butchered animals were watching her as she stretched out on the carving block. Over her head was a glittering array of knives and cleavers.

The table shook slightly as Murph heaved himself up between her spread legs. She kept staring up at the knives, the shining, sharp knives. He lowered his bulk down on top of her. His cock touched her twat. Her hips heaved upward in welcome as his weight crushed down on her chest. His cock bored into her streaming tunnel. She spread her arms and legs wide. His hot, heavy body ground her into the fat-oiled top of the chopping block. He speared her on his thick, hard sausage.

She stretched herself, wider and wider. She imagined ropes were dragging her arms and legs out. She imagined her tendons were stretching and stinging as she was dragged open. She felt his cock pistoning in her cunt, felt him crushing her clit, and her lust boiled higher.

As butchered hogs and steers swung around her, she let herself be impaled on the meat-cutter's pounding prick. She slitted her eyes, and the gleaming edges of the knives and cleavers hanging over her spun out into shining clouds.

The butcher continued to slam into her, continued pounding her into the table. His dick burned in and out, in and out. Her clit was being rolled and squeezed between their crotch bones. Her coming went on and on and on, until she was a shivering, helpless carcass.

She didn't rouse until the might was off her body and the cock was gone from her cunt. She was lying on her back in a cold room, another load of come sloshing around in her abused cunt. The butcher was dragging his clothes on. She rolled off the table and got to her feet. He didn't even look at her ass he pulled her dress on and stepped into her sandals.

He cautiously opened the cooler door and stuck his head out. Then he escorted her quickly back to the right side of the meat case. Then he vanished into the cooler a frightened gnome returning to his cave.

Karen was shivering from the chill. And still more male juices were oozing down her naked thighs from her bare snatch. A wave of misery rolled over her. Two grotesque fucks already. And the rest of the day stretched ahead of her like a vast wasteland.

A hot lump of horniness burned in her gut, in spite of her multiple comings. As she wheeled her cart down the next aisle, she felt the insides of her thighs getting slippery and slimy. And all that gooey flow did was make her hungry for more. She was hungry for sex. She remembered her near electrocution the day before. Today's pleasure paled before that memory.

Swinging past a stack of cans, she started up the next aisle, and almost ran over a stock boy who was loading shelve. She cast a longing glance at him, and wondered what his cock was like, what it would feel like jammed into her snatch.

"Can I do something for you?" he asked, noticing her stare.

She wanted to ask him to fuck her. She shook her head tensely. "No thank you, I was just thinking. Prices sure are going up these days, aren't they?"

"Yes'm," he agreed politely, and went back to his stacking.

She lingered a moment longer, fighting the urge to rip her dress off and attack him. Finally, she forced herself away and continued down the aisle. She felt her come-smeared thighs stick together. She was going mad. First the vegetable department and then the meat department. And she had almost raped a stock boy right in the aisle.

Hiding behind a pyramid of soup, she got her list out and tried to read it. Her hands were shaking so badly, she had to steady them on the cart. She looked down. The only thing she had gotten was toilet paper. Suddenly, she realized she had forgotten her wallet. She almost broke down and cried.

How could she have gotten herself into such a state? It didn't seem possible. Sweet, innocent, demure Karen Calder was turning into a whore. Only, she wasn't even doing it for pay! In high school, she had been one of the "nice girls". Until she had married, she had been a virgin. Now, there wasn't anything she wasn't willing, eager to try.

Blinking back tears, she blundered toward the toilet paper aisle to put the package back before heading homeward. She overran the aisle and was about to turn back, when she was grabbed from behind. A hand clamped don over her mouth. She struggled weakly, but it was no use. She was dragged through a door into a storage room.

Rude hands fondled her breasts, and she felt her lust betraying her, boiling upward. Her dress was dragged up to bare her yet again. Suddenly the man who had grabbed her was slamming his cock into her hot snatch, and she was bucking with pleasure.

She managed to get her eyes in focus. She recognized the security officer of the store. His gray uniform cap askew, he was raping her with brutal single-mindedness. She began to come yet again. He was an elderly man, with a bit of a hunch. He was sweet and gentle-looking, usually and he was raping her. He had always been polite and courteous to her, opened the door for her. And here he was, stabbing her with his towering hard-on.

And she was loving it, eating it up, taking his drives, clawing at him. She pushed her against a stack of cartons. His face beaded with sweat as he rammed into her again and again. Then he began to come. His spurting cock filled her full of creamy juice.

"Awwwww," Karen moaned as she came again. Her body ached with exhaustion from all the spurning and coming. She shuddered as overflow of man-juice flooded from her snatch and spattered her thighs. A burp of air farted from her cunt as the man pistoned in her one more time in an effort to keep his climax going.

Then he was backing away from her, slumping wearily on a stack of boxes. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath. All Karen could do was lean back against the cartons. Her dress was still up under her arms her breast and belly and sodden snatch were all bare. She felt come drying cold and sticky and crusty on her belly. The inside of her thighs were rubbed raw from all the ravishings.