Duncan Fox - Deep throat wife

She felt another hot, biological need swelling in her belly, and felt her lust roar higher at the thought. It was so delightfully suitable! Just perfect for the meticulously groomed stud kneeling and munching on her cunt. She had to do it, she just had to. She used her grip on the man's curly locks to drag his face out of her snatch. His nose, cheeks and chin were slick and shining with juices. He looked up at her, lust and adoration in his eyes.

Keeping one hand twined in his hair, she used the fingers of her other to part her cunt lips. Humping her hips forward, she squeezed down inside herself, and a hot jet of piss shot into his adoring face. He didn't even try to pull away! His eyes closed against the hot, aromatic spatter, he let her cover him with piss. Swinging her hips, she hosed his handsome face with urine. She covered his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, even his mouth. He lapped up the flood of pee. It stained the shoulders of his jacket, drenched his necktie and his shirt, dribbled off his chin, spilled down onto his pants and naked prick.

The man's abject enjoyment of the vile humiliation was a real turn-on. She was giving him more pleasure than he had ever experienced in his life. He was jerking off while the hot stream played over his face, ran down his body, soaked his clothes. Then his cock was erupting, spraying the stage, spattering Karen's feet and ankles with thick cream. Her pissing faded, spurted, then died completely. Still his pecker lurched and spouted, added its load to the one left by the producer. Bernstein was now sitting like a dazed Buddha, staring at the soiled cigar in his hand.

With a jerk, Karen forced Sandier's mouth back to her twat, guided him to her cunt. "Suck it," she hissed as the piss on his face smeared her snatch. He licked her twat, sucked on the hot berry of her clit. Karen was suddenly overwhelmed by an incredible coming and smothered him with her sodden twat. The pink flush of pleasure blossomed on her naked torso and she flooded his mouth with cunt cream instead of piss. She held his head in her crotch until the last quivers of her coming were gone.

Then she let him go. She pushed him away, watched him sprawl out next to the producer. The MC's clothes were soaked with piss. On his face an expression of shame mingled with one of lusty pleasure. His dick drizzled its overflow on his soiled trousers. He stared at the still-stunned naked producer.

Karen glanced over them, toward the audience, and smiled. Hanging on the edge of the stage, his face shining with it, and enjoyment, and delight, was Jake, the security man from the market. He had made it, and she was giving him a show he'd never forget.

She was about to start on Shanda, when she realized the woman had already been taken care of. Shanda, cool, beautiful Shanda, was tangled head-to-crotch with the celebrity starlet who had been Karen's opponent's partner. The two naked women were a heaving tangle of madness as they ate each other's snatches. Shanda twisted and rolled her face in the starlet's jet-black crotch, dug her tongue deep into the woman's streaming gash. Shanda's hips were heaving and bucking, smothering the other woman with twat.

This was obviously no momentary aberration on either woman's part. There was a practiced skill in their stimulation of each other. They quickly reached a flaming, simultaneous lesbian coming. Their bodies bucked and heaved on the slick, come-spattered stage. Breasts were mashed against bellies, hands were clutching asses, painted nails were digging into tender white globes. They were trying to devour each other.

Shanda ripped her mouth off the starlet's snatch. For a moment, Karen could see come on Shanda's face. Then Shanda attacked again. She hauled on the starlet's bottom, reached with her mouth. Shanda found the starlet's bung and drilled her tongue into the tight pucker. Shanda reamed the starlet's asshole with total, wanton abandon. There was a collective hot moan of lust from the audience and her fellow workers.

Karen laughed. It was a laugh loaded with cruel satisfaction and hot lust. She felt her own come-flooded bung spasm. She remembered how a tongue spearing up into her winkie felt her twat drooled hungrily at the memory. She caught the ad man's eye. He cringed as she beckoned to him.

"No," the man mumbled. "Please."

She saw the hot desire in his eyes. He knew what she wanted, and he wanted to do it. He was going to do it, and he was going to love it. "Kiss my ass," she hissed.

"No," he groaned. The one word contained pain and shame and desire all at the same time. Even as he protested, he was easing down on his knees, kneeling in the spattered puddle of jism left by the two men Karen had already subdued.

"Do it," Karen ordered. "Do it!"

"Oh, God, you, you bitch!" the man moaned hoarsely as she towered over him. She was a naked lust Goddess. "Jesus!" he groaned.

"KISS my ass," she repeated, softly, confidently. She shoved his head downward and spread her legs. The man crawled under her dripping snatch, and turned. She stuck her butt out, and felt his hands on her an, felt him part her firm globes. His breath puffed on the come left from her buggering. She felt his nose sniff her soaked tail.

Then his mouth fastened on her winkle. She braced her hands on her knees. She ground her backside against him as she felt him suck her winkle. He probed his tongue at her crapper and her lust roared upward. She felt his tongue twist slowly into her tail hole, wedge the ring open with agonizing slowness. As she fought to let him deeper, she realized his penetration was being eased by all the come swilling around inside her butt. Just as she felt his tongue twist into her rear, her star partner crawled under her and fastened his mouth to her snatch.

Chin to chin, the two men drilled her with their tongues on her cunt, the other her bung. Karen shuddered from the double tongue-fuck, and began to come. Her juice poured over the sucking, working mouth of the man in her snatch, ran back, spilled over the sucking face of the man drilling his tongue into her bung. Her coming raging through her, Karen's muscles shivered and shuddered. Her full titties jiggled and swayed.

She had done it! She had them in her power. She had ground them into the dirt with her body. And every one of them was loving it, loving the power she had over them.

She kept the two men eating at her snatch and her bung until she was shuddering with carnal exhaustion. Her twat was a solid ache it had, done so much spuming. Finally, a determined thrust sent the two men tumbling to the floor.

Suddenly, without any warning, two men grabbed her and dragged her backward across the stage. Too drained to struggle, she was barely able to keep her feet under her. At orders from the producer, the naked, swearing producer, Karen was slammed back against the garishly lighted wheel of fortune. She was urged up until she was balancing on her tiptoes.

Shaking the hair out of her face, she tried to figure out what was happening. She tried to drag her wrists free as she felt the wheel behind her shift. She looked up, and shivered. Her hands were tied to the pegs of the wheel!

When she looked at the producer, he was not pleased with the expression on her face. Instead of terror or humiliation or wariness, it was a look of searing, eager expectancy.

Teetering crazily for a desperate moment, Karen lifted one foot, found a peg for it to rest on. The wheel swung unexpectedly from the pressure, yanking her other foot sideways off the stage. She kicked, slamming the heel of that foot down on the remaining peg, and her insane daydream was a reality!

She was spread-eagled on the wheel of fortune, surrounded by glittering, flashing lights, the axle digging into her back. The wheel turned until she was right side up again, and then her feet were lashed to the pegs they were on. She was pinned to the wheel like a specimen in a collection. It was like a circus act she had seen once where a knife thrower had outlined a shapely girl with glittering blades while she was turned on a huge wheel.