Walter Ramsden - Doris and Dad

Her father snorted and grunted as he levered his plunging prick back and forth, reaming out her steaming fuck-chasm. For a minute, savoring the cock-pounding her pussy was getting, she glanced over at Phil, felt a twinge of pity for his tortured condition, wondered why her daddy had told her not to let him screw her anymore.

After all, Phil had a lovely cock and he could shoot her full of jizz in the cunt or the mouth lots faster than her daddy could. She loved his cock and having him fuck her and cornhole her ass and fucking her mouth. And Vern next door-and Yancy and Jack Ormand-were all good fucking their cocks into all of her sex-loving holes.

Too, she couldn't understand – "Eeeeeiijiaaahhhggghhh!" she screamed, cumming hard deep in her pussy like bombs going off-why Rhoda was no longer taking the boys between her long legs. The way she loved to be fucked and to suck off handsome young cocks.

"Here it comes, little girl," her daddy growled, slamming cock far into her cunt and stretching her, gushing her full of jizz that plastered the insides of her fuck-cave.

"Jizz my pussy," she sobbed, body squirming in enchanting pulses as his cock hosed her cunt full of love-juice.

In a daze of enchantment, Doris glanced fuzzily at her tormented older brother, could see the ridge in his pants, the outline of his cock down the left leg. She sighed with ecstasy as her daddy released her ankles and let her body unfold so her legs stretched down along the shanks of his legs.

His spewing prick was buried so deeply in her, however, it held her quivering little butt off the davenport seat. She felt so sorry for her brother and would gladly have him screw her to relieve his sexual tensions. Also, she reflected dreamily, he could really fuck her, being young and all.

She scowled in dismay as her brother began crying, tears running down his wan cheeks, and he sprang from the chair and ran from the house, a hand covering his monstrous, rocky hard-on.

"Aaaaaahhhh, Daddy, your nice, big cock feels so good in me, shooting me with jizz," she crooned softly, wiggling her small bottom on his big, pulsating prick. "Maybe I could sleep with you tonight and you could be easy with me and do it in my buttee-holee-cornhole me nice?"

Her young mind turned shrewd. Maybe she could slip around with Phil and they could have fun, fucking and sucking. She liked the feeling of having her highly sensitive little pussy licked with hot, rasping tongues. And if they were careful, Daddy would never know. And if Vern Myles would promise not to say anything-not even to his mom-she would think about letting him do it to her with his prick.

And there were Yancy and Jack Ormand. They were really good at fucking cocks into her, too,

Doris squirmed under her daddy's naked, feverish body. "It feels like your cock has stopped, Daddy," she whispered. "Why don't you lie down and I'll do it to it with my mouth. I like the taste of-" she started to say cocks, but changed the sentence-"YOUR cock."

With a groan, Orville Hagerman shuffled off his young daughter and she clambered atop him as he slumped to his back, spreading his legs wide for her to get her hands on his big, hairy nuts and gobble up his slackening prick.

In seconds, she had sucked and mouth-fucked him back to a full hard-on. As she savored his lusty cock, her thoughts grew wily. If she did decide to do it with the boys and Daddy did find out, she might tell. Tell who?

She forced her face down, her lips stretched around the thick bole of his fat, stiff prick and twirled her tongue around the thick root of his delicious fuck-organ. It didn't matter; she'd just say she would tell-and he better not whip her either.

Doris squeezed her father's stony nuts and she giggled soundlessly with his huge prick corking off her excited mirth. She would bet the boys could have their way with Rhoda Myles, if they hinted they would tell on her.

She sucked hard on her dad's cock and shivered delectably as he delved fingers into her soppy little pussy and into her torrid, itching rectum.

Norma Patterson had lived on pins and needles, so to speak, since she had devoured Vern Myles that afternoon for fear the youngster would talk around to his friends and knowledge would filter out and she would be in trouble again. Her uneasiness had been amplified after she had heard of the police raid at the annual picnic of the water company.

She had resolved she would confine her sexual antics to adult men. A lot safer, she frowned that evening after showering and dressing in half-slip, white panties and matching bra and a simple, light cotton dress.

But men had no appetite for an old woman almost fifty years old. Before buttoning up the front of the dress, she lovingly settled her ample breasts comfortably in the bulging cups of the brassiere.

Her eyes blinked back tears rapidly behind the dark glasses. Was she doomed-that was the proper word, she thought, pouring half a water glass of gin and gulping it-to live out the rest of her life without the pleasure of diddling around with husky cocks? Something she had been obsessed with most of her life.

Norma pulled up the hem of her dress and eased the double-ply of her panties from the pinch of her pussy. Tears escaped under the dark glasses and spilled from her chin. How she wished she was a young girl again, so innocent and attractive.

The most exciting times of her life had been when she was a desirable girl and young woman with the boys making passes at her and she was fighting them off-subtlety making it clear she wasn't serious about making them stop.

It had been such fun, being seduced even when the seduction would be classed as rape by more moral girls and young women. But she had loved it-being manipulated by older, experienced men or being mauled and forced, almost, by eager young bulls.

Well, she just couldn't afford the chance of scandal and arrest from messing around with young boys anymore. She measured gin into the glass again and guzzled it noisily, hiccupping sharply. It was saddening, the prospect of never being fucked again, never having the pleasure of going down on a nice, tasty, hard cock and blow-jobbing it.

Instinctively, Phil Hagerman hurried down the darkened alley to an old, abandoned warehouse near the railroad tracks where a lot of the boys gathered to scheme and brag and talk in quiet excitement about girls. It was there he found Vern Myles with an old kerosene lantern looking at naughty pictures of naked women in books and magazines the boys had hidden in a metal box under loose flooring.

Because they had pondered it before, Phil asked. "What's gotten into your mom, Vern?"

Vern shrugged, offered to share the magazines. He ignored the question. "You need it, too?" It was clear he meant a hot, wet pussy in which to soak his cock that was still hard.

Phil winced, looked away into the darkness, nodded solemnly.

"I bet," Vern said softly, determinedly, putting away the lascivious material under the boards, "I know where we can get it. I bet she would be glad to have us do it to her-pussy."

Seeing the quick interest in Phil's eyes, he continued, feeling superior and triumphant, "She even paid me once to screw her and let her suck my peter."

"Yeeeeah?" Phil breathed heavily, running fingers over his stiff prick. He hunkered toward Vern who buttoned his own cock back in his pants as he explained. All about Norma Patterson-"that hot old bag who went really wild being fucked and sucking peter."

Norma heard the bell tinkle over the entrance to the motel office and emerged from her quarters to find Vern Myles and Phil Hagerman getting root beers from the machine. Her heart bounded from a mixture of trepidation and yearning.

"Boys," she said huskily, trying to make it a question inferring what they wanted, Vern's burning eyes on the twin mounds bulging the bodice of her dress told her exactly what they wanted.