Ron Taylor - Hot for dad

She felt him there, trapped in her orality, and she sucked gingerly. He was by far the biggest man she'd ever seen. Not a foot long, but a good eight or nine inches, all of it throbbing gristle. He filled her mouth excitingly, and she struggled to pull more of him inside. "Take it easy," she heard him say. "I don't think you're experienced enough for that."

She'd show him who was experienced enough! Betsy had never swallowed a guy, not even the smaller ones, but she'd gulp this pecker into her fucking throat, or she'd die trying! She tried, and only when she was certain she was about to strangle did she give up the useless fight. He was too big. Struggle as she would, she could get no more than three or four thick inches of him into her mouth. The rest of his cock loomed just outside her mouth, a challenge that tantalized and frustrated Betsy traumatically.

But what she couldn't give him in the way of penetration, she could Goddamn well give him in suction. No one had ever found reason to fault her sucking. She pulled in her cheeks and began to treat him to the best she could offer.

As Betsy sucked, she could feel his finger, still buried in her pussy. It wriggled round, bumping her clit as it passed, and she writhed in happy acceptance. Sometimes he'd give her a wicked twisting shove, one that tested the elasticity of her snatch's lining, and when that happened she came nearest to actually swallowing his cock. Pleasure would course through her body – she'd sigh deeply, full-throated, and she could feel his dick pushing into her mouth, flirting with the back of her tongue, and she thought, if only I could stretch my mouth the way I can stretch my pussy, I'd have him in my Goddamn lungs! But her palate was a bony, immovable barrier, and his cock was too large to by-pass it, so Betsy had to content herself with sucking as much of his prick as she could stuff into her mouth.

He had the biggest cock she'd ever seen, and he had the hardest, too. She knew that she could never go back to fucking and sucking the meagerly endowed boys around Albany. She was being spoiled in a big way. She loved it.

The friction of his finger inside her cunt was whipping Betsy to the inevitable brink of orgasm. She couldn't help it. In two seconds she was going to cream all over his fingers. Tightening her mouth on his big penile crown, she started sucking him with all the oral power she could summon.

That left most of his cock, six or seven inches, outside her mouth. Betsy's hands were small. To get a good grip on him, she had to use both of them, one wrapping around him from each side.

They made a tight glove on his cock, then began to shuck up and down rapidly. It wasn't really a suck-off Betsy reminded herself. What she was doing was little more than jacking him off into her mouth. But plenty of guys enjoyed that, and she enjoyed the slutty way it made her feel, as well as the power implicit in the act. She was directing her partner, bringing him to orgasm precisely when and where she wanted. She'd begged him for cock, but only to get things started. Now Betsy wanted to be in charge.

He moved as she sucked him and handled him, his hips swaying where he sat, his cock pushing into her mouth occasionally, ramming a bit too deeply for comfort. Betsy let that pass. She could handle almost anything, and she still had a firm grip on his peter.

Again and again he tickled her clit, making her cream, making her squirm and wiggle. She fucked herself against him, wishing he'd forget about digging out her cunt and just start pinching her trigger. Some girls couldn't bear to be touched on the clit. Betsy felt deprived if she weren't chewed and bitten. But she could teach him.

Her hands raced on his cock. She felt it tense in her grip, as if it were ready to burst into her mouth. Betsy opened her throat to receive his offering, but it didn't come. He trembled inside her fist, but she felt the trembling diminish just as abruptly as it had started. Who's sucking this cock? she thought in a pout. I am! She clamped her lips fiercely upon his knob, washing it round and round with her tongue, and started to jerk him so furiously her fists kept bumping her in the nose and chin every time they raced up to meet her face.

Still his finger reamed her pussy, and she kept moving her groin closer so he could go even deeper. The depth was only an illusion, for his finger had a preordained limit to its penetration; but as he twisted it inside her, he made his fingertip brush areas of her pussy she hadn't known existed until Ed's stimulation brought them to life. Each rotation was a fresh lesson in cuntal arousal, and Betsy was a quick learner.

As it was, he was the first to come. Betsy knew how to give sensuous hand-jobs long before she'd surrendered her cherry, and she used every trick in her extensive book. Her hands experimented with rhythmic variations while her mouth continued to bathe his cock in wet saliva and vacuum-like suction. She was good, and she knew it. The next time she felt him quiver up and down the stalk of his rod, she knew that he couldn't avoid paying his dues. She opened her throat once again, ready for the cum that was definitely on its way.

Even so, the river of jism he spouted into her sucking, ready mouth was astonishing. Betsy had never been so drenched in her life, and the taste was even more incredible. It lingered in the corners of her mouth – she wished it would always remain there, so that on bad or dreary days she could close her eyes and taste his essence once again to brighten her life – and she let what felt like a cupful accumulate before she could force herself to swallow any. When she did take her first deep drink, it was with a gulping sigh that seemed to echo endlessly.

She kept on shucking, as well as sucking, working on his cock till he'd emptied. He took a minute's break from his finger-pronging of her vagina, and she felt neglected down there. As his limpening cock slipped from her cum-smeared mouth, she twitched her bottom and impaled herself afresh on his finger, wishing that it was his big dick instead. God, she prayed, don't let him be a one-shot Charlie! Make him hard again! I wanna be fucked!

His cock no longer in her mouth, Ed was free to move. He leaned forward, stretching Betsy in the grass face up. His finger thrust into her in this new position, but it was no longer alone. He shoved his face between her thighs and began to bite her cuntlips as he finger-fucked.

"Goddamn you!" Betsy screamed, not caring if the whole town of Albany could hear her. "Goddamn you, don't stop unless it kills me!" She wiggled one leg from beneath him and clamped it round his neck, locking him into the soppy gash of her pussy. She hoped he liked the smell of her aroused cunt, because he'd have to break her Goddamned leg to get free.

Betsy had been planning to zap Sibyl's father, to throw a seduction on him he couldn't resist, but she was the one being zapped, or so it seemed. His tongue lapped at her pussy, slipping in beside the finger he already had shoved up her hole, and she couldn't decide which instrument was the better trained. He was no novice at the fine art of eating pussy, and Betsy had never been sucked more deliciously. She was spoiled for life, she thought joyously. How could she ever go back to those silly boys who thought that kissing a slit was all there was to giving a girl head? They were eager to shove their cocks into your mouth and pump cum onto your tonsils, she reflected bitterly, but when you asked for turnabouts, they'd either say cunts smelled too raunchy to eat or they'd lick around a few swipes and expect that to do the trick. Not Ed Bogart! Betsy was sure that what he was doing to her was exactly what she'd been needing all her life. She'd have to remember to thank Sibyl for inviting her to come by. And to thank herself for neglecting to confirm a reservation.