Dump Jackson - Uncle_s awful urge

Her tits jiggled to and fro, but he wasn't able to handle them with his fingers, so he bent his head forward and by stretching his neck down and then his tongue, managed to lick and slobber over her melons even as he plunged his hardon in and out of her juicy box.

"I… I don't believe it. I'm coming, oh shit I'm coming now, all over your meat, you fucking mule, you hairy stud, give it to me, yes, yes I'm creaming," she groaned then and flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.

The hot gushes of cunt juice he'd felt earlier now swirled down over his plunging heaving dick, coating his meat and making her muff even more juicy and lubricious. Juice dripped down his thighs and he kept at it, attacking her vagina with renewed fervor.

His nuts swung back and forth, heavy with a fresh load of come he could almost feel churning like butter inside of his scrotum. Any minute and he'd come too, but before he even had a chance to experience his own brand of sexual bliss Christine screamed out once more.

"Again, oh shit, again, again it's happening again!" she cried out with wild delight, coming a second time even as he kept ramming his meat in and out of her pussy with all of his strength.

There was no stopping either of them after that.

He lost count of what was happening to her after he'd triggered a third climax. Her multi-orgasmic response fed his sexual appetites and he was nearing his own pinnacle of release, his cock moving in and out like a sledgehammer.

Had her pussy not been coated with gism and cunt juice he knew his pecker would have been skinned raw as a peeled banana by now, for the teenager's vagina was extremely tight, the walls like gripping rubber bands which nipped and held onto his darting penis.

"Soon, soon and I'll come too," he promised her.

By now she was barely able to keep her legs locked around his back. Her head fell over his shoulder and he felt her heart beating at an incredibly fast pulsing rate. But still he couldn't stop himself from ramming his dong in and out of her snatch.

Everything seemed to be spinning around him then and he knew he was nearly exhausted. But still he kept at it, for any second it was destined to take place all over again. And finally for Drew Livingston knew the workings of his body on a most intimate and familiar level, the first sensations of his approaching climax could be felt.

First his nuts were pulled up involuntarily, high within his pendulous scrotal sac. And then his muscles stiffened and contracted and a roar of bull-like animalism flew out of the depths of his very being.

"You wanted it," he panted. "And now you've got it. Oh baby, feel Uncle Drew shooting. Feel Uncle's load, all of his come, now, yes fuck now!"

The hot bursts of gism cascaded like a geyser out of the deeply ensheathed and buried head of his ejaculating penis. Come splashed against her cervix and then due to the force of gravity slid down along her well-stuffed vaginal walls, barely able to flow, downwards, for her cunt was so amazingly filled and blocked up with the burning shuddering length of his joystick.

He leaned against her, groaning and shaking as more and more gism sprayed into her tender and battered private parts. She said nothing, too exhausted and drained of energy to move a muscle. But her vaginal walls contracted in voluntarily, responding to the pleasing soothing balm that was his hot viscous come.

How long they leaned against the wall of the stall shower he didn't know. How long it took for him to exhaust himself, to drain his hot viscous come.

How long they leaned against the wall of the stall shower he didn't know. How long it took for him to exhaust himself, to drain his balls and deplete them of their second and nearly as abundant load of semen, was something else he didn't know, either.

But that was of no ultimate importance in the scheme of things, anyway. Only pleasure was of the essence and please was most assuredly what Mr. Drew Livingston was able to experience as he and his Swedish teenybopper clung to each other, having exhausted themselves in the best possible way known to man.

When he'd managed to return to his senses and pull his head, not to mention his body, together, he gently eased back, letting her down to her feet once again. When his cock had slid out of her cunt, squishing loudly as he left he snatch and her cunt flaps snapped shut almost elastically, he turned around again and adjusted the taps.

This time they really showered and the warm and then cool water helped him clear his head and return to his senses. Ten minutes later he stood in the foyer of Rene Martinon's city apartment, dressed and ready to leave.

Christine had given him the phone number of Rene's house in Fontenay-aux-Roses but he didn't think he'd all and announce his upcoming visit, knowing as he did that surprise – in all things – was always a more successful approach to difficult situations.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me… before I leave?" he asked her as she stood near him, stark naked and just as inviting, just as much of a turn-on, as she'd been when he'd first entered the apartment.

"Yeah, there is something, Livingston. Come again, why don't you? If I'm here, I'd be more than willing to entertain, just the way you know how to entertain me," she replied with a suggestive and salacious little laugh and accompanying grin.

"Don't put it past me, either. I just might show up again, unannounced," he replied. "Esecoa, u of au osm't wjere sje's si – psed tp be. Who is this Martinon guy, anyway? What is he, a hypnotist, luring young girls into his clutches?"

"Isn't that what you like best, Mr. Livingston? Young girls, like me," Christine said with a conspiratorial wink. "As for Rene, I suggest you find out for yourself and then make your own value judgments. Anything I might say about him might be taken in evidence, against me, that is. And using his pad is so much more fun than staying in Stockholm and going to school. I'd hate to fuck up a nice cozy arrangement. So do me a favor and don't bring me up. What little Rene doesn't know, doesn't hurt him."

"My lips are sealed… until such time as I'll need to open them again." Then, with a sly chuckle, he dropped down to his knees, kissed her dry and fleecy little love crop with his lips and darting tongue and finally, though reluctantly, got back to his feet and made his goodbyes.

He cast her a last longing loving glance and then the door closed behind him. Drew made his way down the stairs and out onto the bright late morning street. He was filled with ambiguity, physically sated thanks to Christine Pedersen, but more emotionally disturbed and distraught about his niece than ever before.

For what he found most difficult to deal with was his growing awareness of his own jealousy, the fact that even if Amy was perfectly content, even if her relationship or arrangement with Martinon was completely on the up and up, he'd make sure to take her home with him and back to her parents.

Otherwise, he felt that he might not have another chance to seduce her, not for as long as she decided to remain in Paris, cared for by a man who seemed to share the same kind of sexual tastes as Drew himself. And that, when everything else was considered and all the cards stacked up and accounted for, was the most difficult thing to deal with of them all.

The only way to find out if Amy was till in Paris, still at Martinon's suburban retreat, was to go there and look for himself. A phone call certainly wouldn't have done the trick, though out of curiosity he did place a call, wondering if Amy would pick up the phone at the other end.

The voice he heard belonged to a man, though he couldn't tell if it was the voice of an adolescent or an adult. And he didn't wait around to ask, either. He hung up just as quickly, stepped out of the cafe where'd he gone to buy a jetton and place his call, and hailed the first taxi he could get.