J Long - Neighborhood wives

Bobbie Jo spread her limber legs, gripped the sliver-like slices of her cuntlips and yawned open her pussy hole. Christ, the diameter of her cunt-hole was no bigger than his pinky.

Ooooooooh, was this going to be, fun!

Haskell was down on his knees, cock in hand. Then his prick was in her tiny hands and she was guiding him to her tiny pussy where a tiny drop of cunt-oil was winding down toward her tiny ass.

The head of his cock touched her cunt – oooooh! Her pussy was so tight – like fucking a miniature clam, a very dry oyster, the mouth of an angelfish see what an artistic imagination Haskell has.

Haskell shoved. But she didn't scream. She didn't groan and say weird things like, "Oh! It's too big! Take it out! Your cock's too big for me!"

No, she just lay there and watched his cockhead disappearing into the guts of her cunt like some snake crawling into a tiny gopher hole. Why, she didn't even cry, didn't even hunch her hips. What a terrific girl she was – so much more mature than her peers, more ladylike and demure.

Haskell's cock bent this way and that as it plunged deeper and deeper into her tight pussy. Sweat was pouring off his temples, off his forehead, off his bushy eyebrows.

He had never felt anything like it! Fucking Bobbie Jo's tight cunt was like screwing a stiff and stale donut hole. The grip of her pussy as he withdrew his cock to the glans made Haskell shudder and shake. And when he shuddered and shook, his balls shuddered and shook – until she cupped her hands around his hairy balls and stopped them from shuddering and shaking.

Oh, God! What a fucking lady! So helpful! Oh, God! He could feel the cum-urge starting, beginning near his balls and soon to end in her tight cunt.

It had to be cum that was oozing out of his prick because her pussy was too dry to manufacture all that ninny juice that was running out of her hole.

"I betcha you're gonna came now, Haskell baby. Oh, boy! I can't wait to feel your cock go spurt, spurt, spurt deep inside me! Hurry, Haskell! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!"

What could Haskell do? His cock was being gripped by a cunt-like vise, and his balls were being palmed by a young lady who knew about things like petting and caressing a man's testicles.

So he spurted.

Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.

"G-G-God! Oh, God! My jizz is just coming all over!"

Damn right his jizz was coming all over – and now that nice and tight and dry cunt felt as wet as a Florida sponge, as dripping as fresh coffee grounds, as wet as rain.

Yet he had to come some more.

Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.

"Oh, God, Haskie baby! Do you feel all that jizz coming out of your prick! Just look at that gooey stuff coming out of my pussy! Look!"

Haskell looked, almost died of heart failure right in mid-cum. What a stinkhole of a mess! White gluey strings of his seed, his own manufactured cunt, was just sticking to that part of his cock that was sticking out of her cunt. Runny rivers of white cum-balls were trickling down from her tiny pussy to the tiny starfish mouth of her asshole.

Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.

"You sure have a lot of cum in your cock, Haskie baby! Boy, doesn't your cock feel good right now?"

It did feel good ten seconds ago, but now his cock felt dead, felt choked and exhausted and just had to come out of that pussy to take a Goddamn breather.

Haskell fell on his side on the Persian carpet. He didn't want to think, didn't want to move, didn't want to clean up the shitty mess he had made of the Persian carpet.

A voice blared from somewhere overhead. A crackly, intercom-like voice: "All right, cocksucker! You've had your fucking jollies, now start earning your Goddamn money!"

Since Cooper and Wally were inseparable, they were in the suite next door to Haskell's and they were getting double fucked by two Swedish blondes who had only another hour of fucking to go before they went back to their jobs as airline stewardesses.

One stew's name was Angie Arguello, an Italian black-haired girl who worked for Scandinavian Air by passing herself off as Inger Johannson with a blonde wig.

The other blonde fly-by-nighter was a German girl named Heidi Himmler who was the bastard daughter of an Oslo cocktail waitress. Her father – an ex-Nazi who was supposed to be in Argentina with other members of the Gestapo – had decided on Norway because he liked sardine sandwiches.

Both of them had very good assets for pseudo-Swedish girls who like to fuck. Big tits with big nipples, small waists with small navels. Hot cunts with hotter clits.

Wally was banging the shit out of Heidi. She was on the bottom and he was on the top, being the aggressor. He was also putting it into her in that perverted fashion – dog-style.

Heidi loved it, loved being fucked while her titties were scraping against the Persian carpet and she was fingering her clit while Wally's cock rode in and out of her pussy. She loved dog style fucking because then she wouldn't have to stare eye to eye with the hundreds of men she had fucked.

The aggressor for the other couple was Angie – mainly because she was Italian and she had that Wop's way of domineering any situation. That was why she was astride Cooper's loins, riding up and down on his cock as if she were suspended from the ceiling.

Cooper didn't mind. It beat jacking off.

The moans and groans became atrocious.

"Aaarrrgggh! Oh, Wally, do me, baby! Give me all the cock you got to give!"

"Oh, Heidi, baby! I'm ready to split your cunt wide open! I'm ready to bugger the shit out of your pussy! Uuuuuuummmmmmm!"

"Oh, Cooper! What a cock you got! It's so fucking stiff! Jesus! Stick it in there as far as you can! Yeah,like that, baby! Oh, come on, mother fucker!"

"Aaaaaarrrggghhh, Angie! Angie! Angie! Oh,slide down on my prick – ooooooh, just like that! Oh, God, what a cunt you got baby! Eat my prick with your cunt! Move that cunt, baby! What a cunt you got, Angie baby!"

And what atrocious sounds those cocks made sliding in and out of those slippery pussies.

Slup. Slush. Whosh. Slip. Plunge. In. Out. Had it been recorded, they could have mail-ordered their erotic record at four dollars an album to all those perverts in America who buy dildos and ball stretchers and artificial cunts and plastic men with plastic cocks.

Wally couldn't take much more – he let loose with a curse: "Damn!" Then he let loose with a huge flood of white cum that at first dammed up the entrance to Heidi's womb before cascading down around his plunging cock and running over her thighs down to her tense toes and seeping into the Persian carpet.

"Oh, thata way, Wally! Pump all of your jizz into my cunt! All of it, Wally! ALL OF YOUR JIZZ! ALL OF IT!"

What could Wally say or do – shit, everytime he fucked a girl, he never gave her just half his cum. He always gave her all of his jizz – or at least what his balls could manufacture at that point in time.

When Cooper heard Wally coming like a baboon in heat, he joined the parade of spewing pricks. His prick spewed up into the clutches of Angie's cunt, which happened to be on the down stroke, which meant that the first heavenly shot of his cock-juice smashed against her warm womb before backtracking and running out of her cock-filled pussy.

Angie smashed the shit out of Cooper's nipples as she leaned forward, riding so fucking hard on his cock as it spewed all those delicious wads of webby sperm-balls into her pussy.

Then she began a grinding motion that rubbed her rubbery-feeling cuntlips all over his groin, rubbing all that leaked-out jizz into his loins. That was why she liked to be on top when she fucked – she hated having a guy's cock-cream leaking into her asshole when she was on the bottom. Besides, it was easier to clean her pussy after a hearty fuck.