Jeff Collins - Swinging sister

And then she came.

When she came, it was like a bomb exploding in her gut. A raging inferno spread through her body, scorching every nerve ending it touched. She shrilled crazily. As though her scream was a signal to come, he responded with a jetting tidal wave of jism and flooded her cunt, finally cooling her fiery pussy.

Sherry lay exhausted. Her pussy still felt magnificent… tired but satisfied. She lay there staring up, happily spent and still doped up enough not to notice the developing soreness in her body.

The man dismounted and his big cock popped out of her cunt with a loud sucking sound, leaving a round hole in its place. A milky fluid rolled out from between her legs. The animal scent mingled with her juice made nostrils flare and impatient cocks bob and spit cum.

Dimly, Sherry became aware of the others about her… of the many swollen cocks still pointing at her. She studied them. The realization of what they wanted, intended having, overcame the influence of the pot. It was impossible to think that they might want more of her than she'd already given.

But they did. And they got it!

The pain nearly made her faint. A heavy thrust of cock, and she was giving in willingly once more. She was turned into an insatiable whore.

She took them all on… one by one.

Then at last, she was down to the last three, and all three of them were fucking her, all at once. She had a cock in her cunt, a cock in her asshole, and a huge cock shoved all the way down her throat which she lovingly and loudly sucked.

Sherry was completely suspended off the bed now by the two pricks being driven into her cunt and shit-hole. She was shuddering as the waves of agony and bliss tore through her cunt and asshole. She was shuddering as the waves of pain ripped through her, her belly puffed and swollen, filled with the gigantic cocks.

Slowly, they fucked into her with long, hard strokes. Holding her by the hips, they fucked her up and down. She was only a mass of quivering flesh, begging to be fucked. Her hips lurched up and down on the swollen hunks of male meat, screaming at them to fuck her harder, to ram deeper, ever deeper into her body. Her head twisted wildly from side to side, her hair whipping crazily around the cock she sucked, as her climbing orgasm tortured her body.

Suddenly, there was a wild, wailing cry from all four of them, and Sherry's body accepted the cum from all three pricks as her pussy exploded in a nerve-shattering orgasm.

It was then that she passed out.

Much to Sherry's surprise, Don only shrugged and nodded when she returned home Sunday night and told him that she was going back to work, back to flying.

That night she disrobed carefully, in the dark, so Don wouldn't see the bruises on her body.

Monday morning she arose early, before Don, and showered her aching body under blasting-hot and then ice-cold water. When she could actually feel her flesh turning blue she turned the water off and quickly stepped out of the shower.

The rest of the bathroom was still warm and misty from the hot shower and she thanked God for that. A towel applied briskly to her skin got the circulation going once more and covered the blue with a tinge of red. In the mirror over the sink she gave herself a rueful smile.

Perhaps it was true with all people, but at least with her the shock of the cold shower in the morning, the physical discomfort, always made the world look better. Everything seemed to brighten.

She brushed her teeth and fixed her hair quickly, then abandoned the bathroom to Don. He would shower and shave and dress while she was fixing breakfast. She carefully wrapped a large bath towel around her body to hide most of the bruises. Don was awake and stripped out of his pajamas, waiting for the bath.

"Good morning, darling," Sherry said.

His only answer as he passed her was a mumbled, "Good morning."

Something was wrong, and Sherry knew it. His retort tore into her heart. Could he know? Could he have possibly guessed what she had been up to? She wanted to run to him and throw herself into his arms. But he was already inside the bathroom, and the door was closed.

She sighed and slipped into a quilted housecoat. Her feet kicked into a pair of slippers and she stayed in the bedroom long enough to put on some lipstick. It always paid to let the husband leave the house in the morning with a good taste in his mouth, with a good picture of his wife in his memory.

She made the coffee first, filling the percolator with water, adding grounds to the basket, plugging the thing into the socket. Then she prepared the frying pan and the bacon and eggs, but didn't start them cooking. There would be time enough for that when she heard him slam the bathroom door. It was the way he signaled her every morning.

For herself, she made a bowl of hot cereal, boiling the water and adding the cereal grains. While everything was cooking, or waiting to be cooked, she sliced a grapefruit in half and then sectioned it. The bathroom door slammed just as she finished with the grapefruit, and she swung into action.

Into the toaster went four slices of bread. Then four slices of bacon went into the frying pan. She was just turning the bacon when Don came into the kitchen. He swung his long leg over the back of the chair, pulled the four slices of toast from the toaster, buttered them, and turned to his grapefruit.

Sherry broke three eggs into the frying pan and while they fried she drained the grease from the bacon. After she turned the eggs over, she shut off the light under her cereal and poured it from the pot. When she slid the bacon and eggs onto the plate, the coffee stopped bubbling and there was a split second of silence in the kitchen.

The routine hadn't changed in years. It always worked. It had taken them a long time to set up this routine, but it worked like a charm. Everything got done and nothing got cold, and they always ate their breakfast together.

But something was different this morning. Sherry could sense it. The routine was boring, but she had gotten used to it. Now there was an added something, and she couldn't put her finger on it.

Don busied himself with his bacon and eggs while Sherry ate her grapefruit. Then she had her cereal while he had his first cup of coffee. She cleared a few of the dishes away while he gathered up the things he was taking into the city with him. When he was ready, he walked to the door and Sherry stood up on tiptoe for her kiss.

"I don't think I'll be home until very, very late tonight, Sherry," he told her, as he picked up his briefcase and paused at the front door. "Oh, by the way, there's a note on the pad for you to call your brother Ken. He's in a motel here in town. It seems that Fay left him. As a matter of fact, she wasn't home when he got there last Friday night."

And then Don was out the door and Sherry heard his car start before the full realization hit her.

Don knew – there was no question about it, now. Only the details weren't in the open, but he could probably guess most of them. Her alibi, her brother's wife being sick, was blown to hell.

"How did it happen?" Sherry asked, sipping her drink and studying her brother over the rim of her glass.

"It was bound to happen," Ken shrugged. "Hell, Sherry, I'm just like you are. Marriage bores me. I've been fucking around for months. It was only a matter of time before Fay found out. Then it was only another matter of time until she left me."

"She picked one hell of a time to do it!" Sherry laughed.

"Yeah. Hey, Sis, look, I'm sorry I screwed you up."

It was Sherry's turn to shrug. "I guess it was only a matter of time until I screwed up. It was bound to happen, the same as you. I think I've been bored with Don ever since the beginning. Did I ever tell you I fucked another guy during our honeymoon?"