Ron Taylor - Hot for dad

He knelt behind her, his dick-head bumping her finger out of its playground. Betsy's hand darted away, happy to surrender, and she felt Ed's prick begin to slide back and forth across her damp, dark beaver.

Betsy lunged forward in shock as his cock entered. Her cunt had almost reverted to its original shape and snugness, and his sudden insertion spread her immediately. She felt her pussy muscles stretching to accommodate him, tightening back as much as they could, and she reached back to clutch one of his hands for security.

He pushed his way up her in circular stokes, the head of his peter reaming through her wet, hot cunt, and Betsy couldn't keep her ass from wiggling joyously. He seemed to go even deeper this way, as if his cock were actually fucking into and not just against the opening of her uterus. Her belly swelled and that made her entire body glow and hum.

"Harder," she whispered. "Fuck me harder!" Her ass smacked against his belly, bumping him two or three times in quick succession while she bathed his dick in her cuntal juices. She wanted him and all he could give her.

Ed grabbed one cheek of her perky ass, his fingers digging into the soft, pliable flesh, and he pulled away from her, most of his cock vacating its squishy home. Then he shoved her hard, harder than she would have believed possible. His cock slammed in, held, then pulled back once again. His next shoving penetration was even harder, fiercer. Betsy howled like a bitch in the fury of heat and she squeezed his hand. "Yes!" she shrieked.

If he took it as a command, it was because she meant him to. Her cunt sucked him in, rippled as if it meant to keep him there for all time, then let him pull free for yet another smashing plunge. Betsy knew that her ass would be black and blue tomorrow, if it wasn't already, but she could live with that. The fucking – harder, faster – that, Betsy was certain, she could not live without.

Resisting orgasm was a strain upon the girl. She wanted to come. Her cunt, her ovaries, every part of her sexuality – all screamed for release. But she wanted to make it with Ed, to spill her fiery juices at the same blinding moment when he filled her body with his. She wanted to reach down afterwards, to touch the oozing jism mixture as it seeped from her gash, to know that they had shared the sexual joy from start to finish. Betsy nibbled on her lip, begging her body to endure just a while longer. Soon, she promised, it would be over and worth the waiting.

But her cunt nonetheless betrayed her. The scraping friction of Ed's knob withdrawing from her in a particularly wicked spiral pattern was more than her racked pussy tissue could bear. Betsy shivered, she sobbed, she wept, and she exploded. The nerves in and around her cunt felt as if their covering of skin had been torn away, leaving the raw wires exposed and vividly tactile, and she could feel the return of his cock with every single cell in the slick, squishy lining of her cunt. He rammed into her, knowing that she was in the throes of orgasm, and he seemed to take a particular pleasure in fucking her with an added degree of roughness, of slamming his cocktip against her womb and prodding her hard before he withdrew to do it again. The rippling muscles of her cunt licked him as he plunged, coaxed him as he pulled back, constricted delightedly as he thrust home once more. She sighed, licked her lips, she drooled upon the tiles beneath her head. Her tits were hard as stones, the nipples so incredibly stiff, tight and erect, she was certain they'd break off if touched too roughly.

Ed squeezed the buttock he held possessively. Betsy moaned, her eyes awash with tears of joy. "If it's not all right for me to come in you," he warned, "you'd better say so. Fast!"

"Come!" she cried, "please, please, please come in me!" Her ass twisted against him, her cunt still shimmering and bubbling, and she sucked at his cock with it, begging him with her body as well as her mouth.

Ed plunged forward, holding his cock firmly against the mouth of her cunt, and she felt the sudden jerks as he unloaded his jism. Each time he squirted – and there were at least six individual jerks before she stopped counting – Betsy's ass bounced up, and she felt as if she were floating by the third or fourth burst. It was safe – her IUD had never failed – and though her over-worked cunt was in an agony of muscular strain, she wanted him to keep on squirting his cum into her body. She tightened her cunt as much as possible, locking his dick inside her, and she squeezed him, anxious to tickle all the jism possible from his nuts.

He leaned forward, his body coming to rest upon her back. He bit her on the shoulder, a gentle love bite which made her purr for more, and he got one hand onto her tits. She felt his caresses, but neither nipple broke off. Stiff, she thought, but certainly not brittle. She turned and kissed him. Because of the position in which they rocked, Betsy couldn't kiss him directly. But she could stick out her tongue, stick it out so far its roots ached, and she could lick his mouth like a mother cat bathing her kitten. Ed's tongue lanced out in reply, met her own, and they dueled appreciatively while her breasts throbbed in his big hands and her pussy drank gluttonously of his cum.

Her knees ached where they dug into the tiled surface, and she didn't think it worthwhile to brace herself any longer. Betsy eased her body downward, the tiles coming up to meet her belly, and Ed slid down upon her, his hands trapped beneath her, still clutching her tits. She felt him jerk inside her cunt a time or two, and then his cock began, to soften noticeably. She sighed wistfully and she could swear that he did, too, as his slackening prick popped out of her sticky hole.

Ed rolled off her back and Betsy moved onto her side. She reached down between her legs to touch the ooze that flowed from her cunt. God, she thought, there was so much! Hem and his, mixed. She had never come so wetly, nor had her pussy ever ached so much after sex. But it was a delicious kind of aching, a satisfied, smug pleasance which imprinted itself unforgettably on her memory when she rubbed the slit and its tender, still half-swollen pussy lips. Any time in the future, she thought. Any time. One touch down there and she'd remember exactly how this was. Every lovely second of it. She stroked herself again, programming her pussy one more time, and when she took her hand away, the fingers were shiny and aromatic from the sexual juices which coated them.

Betsy turned her blue eyes upon his face. "I have never been so-so-SO fucked! Ever. In my life. I don't know how to…"

"Wanna go around again?" he asked, fixing her with a sure stare, and Betsy turned several colors in succession before she understood that he was putting her on. Then she felt safe laughing.

Betsy relaxed, her head on his chest. They were on the soft grass once again, the tree shady overhead, and if his hand cupped her breast or if her fingers made a loop round the base of his recumbent cock, both understood that these were only caresses rather than challenges.

It really was delicious, Betsy thought. She felt great. Fulfilled. She'd come a bucketful, and so had he. This was a day she could never forget. Kind of weird, though. She'd asked him why he hadn't resisted her initial pass, why he'd gone along with her, and he'd replied something about "swimming with the current" and "lines of least resistance" and what he called the Tao, none of which she understood precisely. What he seemed to mean was that he had decided, philosophically, that fucking her would be less bothersome than not fucking her, since she was determined to be fucked. But he'd taken over the aggression, hadn't he? When he dumped her into the pool, dived in after, and shoved his cock up her slot? So who was floating with the current or seeking the line of least resistance then?