Ron Taylor: Hot for dad

He felt his balls being suckled, one at a time, and he wished her mouth weren't quite so small, that she could get all his scrotum inside for some heavy duty nursing. He'd met a few girls who could do that, but not many. And the way Betsy mouthed him was so sweet, so perfect, that he didn't mind. She hadn't even been this good, this hot, this innovative, that day by the pool. He'd have to see her again while he and Sibyl were in Albany. Betsy was an acquaintance worth cultivating.

Almost before he knew it, she'd quit sucking his balls and was making an oral pattern of ascent on his stiff dick. Her lips clutched at his knob once again, tongue tracing a sensuous, almost evil course on the sharp, well-defined rim of his glans. Ed shuddered instinctively, repressing the urge to come immediately, all over her caressing lips. He was like a high school boy getting his first blow-job, he thought reprovingly. Where was his self-control? It was a point of pride with Ed that he gave his partners their pleasure before he took his own. He never threw himself upon a woman, humped until he'd emptied his jism, then left her to her own devices. Plenty of guys did that, sure, but those men rarely found themselves invited back for seconds. And as Ed licked the girl's cuntlips and responded to her inspired cocksucking, he found himself thinking ahead to fourths and fifths.

He felt her teeth, but only for a moment. They grazed his cock-head as she took him into her mouth. He braced himself, fighting the urge to thrust it home. Most girls didn't know how to take a cock fully. They could only suckle the tip and the stalk just below. And with a long, thick peter like his own, getting deep-throated was an even more elusive pleasure. The half-caste girl in Singapore – she could do it like a Goddamned angel. A secretary in D.C., too. Not many more. Plenty had tried, especially since Linda Lovelace had turned throat fucking into a household word, but the thickness of Ed's cock was an inhibiting factor.

Or so he thought until he felt his cock pressing home, into what seemed a wet, bottomless cave. The ease of it was most startling. Betsy had shown no indication the other day that she…"Jesus!" he groaned, his nuts dancing on her chin, his cock fully inserted in her wonderful, beautiful mouth! He could feel her tight throat on him, could feel the splendid suction of her cheeks, and he could taste the increased dripping of her slit which told him that she, too, was excited by her special talent.

Ed fought his dick out of her mouth, fearing he might strangle the girl in his enthusiasm, but she held him by the ass, refusing to let him be fully extracted. Her mouth was a toothed leech on his glans, keeping it in her, tickling with tongue to bring him back, and he gave her full rein. When she flogged him that way with her tongue, when she urged him with her lips and, teeth, who was Ed Bogart to refuse?

He went in her just as fully the second time, his balls again bumping her chin with a jolting shudder that made him fight back the urge to come once more. It was clear to him that he couldn't resist forever. Before many more minutes had elapsed, Betsy would have a mouthful of cum – a big mouthful, if that twinge in his balls was any indicator – and he wanted her to feel a release too.

She was taking care of his cock. Her head had assumed control and she moved on him like a tube, letting his dick thrust her throat-deep each time, her mouth fondling it unbearably. Ed let her go, resuming his cunt-gobbling, this time with a raw passion he had rarely exercised on a casual sex mate. She seemed to call for more than normal measures, and he gave her his very best. His fingers spread her pussy to its widest, he fucked inside with as much of his face as he could jam into her slick wetness, and he strove to bury his tongue in her sucking hole of a cunt.

Obviously Bets was relishing his mouth work. Her clit was swollen to enormous size, perfect for a session of biting and sucking, and he alternated that with his forays into her rippling cunt. She was so wet, so hot, so tight – if a model were ever needed for the perfect cunt, Ed had a candidate who could win hands down. He lapped at the pussy juices which seeped from her, then jabbed his thumb in as she came.

She whimpered to the prick with which she fucked her sweet, eager mouth, and the vibrato of that whimper was an invitation hard to resist. It tickled up and down the buried shaft and he could feel himself swelling like a balloon inside her. Ed didn't want to squirt yet – the buildup was so erotic he wanted to savor it – but Betsy kept groaning and moaning as the tremors of orgasm passed through her churning snatch. He grunted once into her wet, open gash, his lips brushed her clit, and he felt as if someone had suddenly pinched his balls with pliers. The stones slammed together, burst, and a river of jism rushed upward, its flood unstoppable.

He poured that cum into her mouth, straight down the open tunnel of her throat, and he could hear the mighty swallows as she gulped it down. He knew he was coming a torrent, that he was spilling a week's worth of hot, salty seed into Betsy's gullet, and he wondered if he'd have any left for later. But later would have to take care of itself. Her hands were caressing his nuts, her mouth was tight and furious on his dick, and she was drinking his jizz like a well-paid whore.

After he'd spilled his juice, after his cock had slipped from her mouth, she touched him there with fingers had seemed to take sadistic pleasure in stroking his raw nerve endings. His dick ached unbearably but it refused to go down. He touched it too, testing its stiffness, and he knew that he had to have her again, now, while both of them were still ripe and ready.

Ed shifted position. He grabbed her head and smashed her face with the power of his hungry kiss. Betsy's mouth was still half-full of his cum, and when he touched his lips to hers, the stuff began to leak from her in a thick stream. Ed didn't mind. He'd tasted his cum on lovers' lips before and he'd do it again. If it was good enough to pour into a girl's mouth, it was good enough to have in his own. He squeezed her tits, felt them harden in his hands, and then she was reaching for his cock, pulling herself upon it.

Her cunt opened as she scooted into position, and Ed was on her, in her. Her legs were up, resting on his shoulders, and he lifted her ass from the bed as he barreled into her. They couldn't kiss in this position, and he missed the fragrant, sexy taste of her mouth, but he could hear the moans of "Yes, yes, yes, just like that – oh, fuck me, fuck me deeper!" They were like whip cracks, spurring him to obey her panted commands, and he slammed his cock into her splayed cunt.

She was tight but greasy as hell inside. Her tightness, far from inhibiting the pleasure, intensified it. Ed could feel her inner cunt parting as his big dick speared inside, he could feel it springing back into shape as he withdrew for yet another plunge, in endlessly elastic recurrence. Now, here, in the dark, on his bed, she was so much better than she'd been the other time. He couldn't believe it was the same girl. There was a fresh, invigorating, openness to her response which he found more erotic than anything he had ever experienced. If she weren't so young, if she weren't Sibyl's friend, he'd have been tempted, strongly tempted, to make her his mistress, to move her into his home, his bed. He'd have taken her to California with him, too, ensconced her on the silken sheets she deserved, fucked her crazy every day and night.

If it weren't for Sibyl. He couldn't really have a sex life, not the kind he wanted and needed, as long as Sibyl was around. She wouldn't understand. Probably she'd never understand. And until she went away to college somewhere, or found herself a boy, he'd have to continue in just this fashion – hasty assignations with eager, complaisant women who had to be hustled out of the bedroom before his daughter got wind of what was going on. And there had never been a woman as eager or complaisant as Betsy Pike was at this very minute. If he'd been romantically inclined he might have allowed himself to fall in love with her pussy. Perhaps with the entire girl. Only teen-agers mistook hard-ons for the blinding flash of true love, though. Or did they? Ed closed his eyes in the darkness, trying to remember how the sun had shone in Betsy's golden hair, the way her muscles rippled when she walked, the firm uplift of her tits, the graceful curves of her ass. She hadn't seemed so distinctive at the time. Why was she now attacking him where he lived? Perhaps if he turned on the light and saw her smiling young face convulsed with the passion of fucking, she might lose all the allure given her by darkness. If so, he didn't want it to happen. He was in love with something – not Betsy, but certainly the way she balled, and he wanted to hang on to that feeling as long as he could.