Ned Samuels - Hand maid

Then he pushed his head right into them, almost swimming in her endowments. "Ooh," she moaned out, "feel them all over, kiss my big tits." Without hesitation, John pushed the spheres together, then up and down, apart, together again, until he could see them at every angle, could feel their weight as they strained under his fondling. "You really know how to man handle a woman," she said, encouraging him further, enticing him by the tone of her voice and the enthusiasm of her body; by the look in her eye and the motion of her hand which was already making its way down to his cock; by the arch in her back and the very erection in both her nipples. "Come on John, why don't you make yourself nice and comfy – know what I mean."

John quickly began to remove his clothing: first his shirt, which was already entirely opened, then his trousers, and finally all his underwear. He noticed that he was still wearing his socks, which looked a little foolish, so he removed them quickly, bending over and exposing the back of his balls, distended and fat, as he bent over.

"Oh, John," she said, "you are a hulk." With that she moved over to him and shamelessly cupped his balls from the rear, touching a spot so sensitive that the big man almost yelled out and jumped forward more than a few inches. "Come now, I know you can take it." She moved closer to him, and this time took hold of his balls with her palms, squeezing them gently, then harder, until he held her hand in a motion for her to have mercy. "Got you by the balls so to speak, don't I." After she eased up, she began to stroke his shaft, from the bottom or the base, up ward to the middle, finally right to the sensitive tip, and just under the glans. "You like that," she said demurely, "I know you like that." This broad was the sexiest thing Vern bad conjured ever, kind of an ultimate in womanly power, the kind of woman no man in his right mind could walk away from, especially when she looked him straight in the eye and seemed to call out to him, to deliver her entire message: look, I'm hot and available and want some real action, so if you have the guts I have the pussy. That's the way Veronica had always wanted to be, and she realized that she'd invented close to her feminine idol. Bernice pushed her breasts into the man's chest once again, "Why not taste my lower parts?" she knew this was an offer John would quickly honor, probably without hesitation in answering (no need for confirmation when a lady is so fabulously available).

He yanked her panties entirely off, basking his eyes in the sight of her jet black pubic surprise. She sported a perfect "V" which dominated her lower portion, an area which looked all the more attractive the way she charmingly pushed her legs together and made him want more than anything to have her spread, to expose her beautiful pussy so he could get a nice whiff and even better, a terrific taste.

John moved down. Soon she was on the floor, sitting on her buns, propping her body up by her elbows, her knees flush together. John took a hold of those knees, one in each hand, and pushed them slowly apart. At first, he could see only half-way down her legs, then further, until a portion of her magnificent pussy was visible, then more, until she could be seen in all her splendid, crimson, juicy, sexy glory. She was a nymphet, no doubt, a veritable Goddess of sensuality.

John opened his mouth slowly. That's the way Veronica chose to picture it: a slow-motion, almost painful sequence of lips parting, of tongue slowly moving outward, of body lurching forward, of busty Bernice spreading her legs as far as they would go, of John finally making ecstatic contact with her womanly inner tissues.

"This is too much," Veronica said to Monty as she noticed the kind of action which was taking place.

"Oh, yeah, she's known for her talents if you know what I mean. But I think you could give her a run for her money. Ever make it with a broad?"

"Not quite like that one."

"Well, knowing this bitch the way I do, I can tell you that she'll be plenty hungry herself after your boy's feast – not that he's not giving her a nice little treat – but you know, the girl's got quite an ap petite."

"Do you think she'd like to make it with me?"

"I've seen her make it with chicks who looked a lot less talented than yourself. Sure, I saw the way she looked you over, the way she eyed you on top and on bottom, the way she caught sight of that fabulous turning of your hips as you walked across the room. That's the real go-ahead."

Complimented, her confidence boosted, Vern said, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what'll happen, won't we?"

Just then, the bitch started to moan out, obviously overcome with John's technique, his oral action sucking, taking her beyond the bounds of propriety and into the hinterland of animal lust, the jungle-like craving of a desire gone beyond all civilized restraint.

She looked like she'd do anything to keep him going, that she was beyond all limits of restraint.

"Come on baby, suck my cunt, suck my fucking cunt."

Vern liked to see her language degenerate – and that's why she orchestrated this entire fantasy sequence in such a manner – because it added to the abandon. Her theory had it that if you scratch the surface of the most civilized, high-brow broad, you can find a raging animal, foul-mouthed animal just underneath, waiting to be released from the imprisonment of clothing and manners. Bernice was at that point searching a way to enhance her al ready mounting frenzy. She settled upon Vern and gave her one of those visual green lights which says, come over here you bitch, and suck my tits, feel them all over, do it to me the way this guy's doing it down below.

Almost hypnotized, Veronica walked over, aware of the weight of her own jugs, but aware even her endowments were not quite up to this bombshell's. She pushed her head downward until she was able to feel the woman's spheres with her chin. They felt marvelously firm, but not hard, in tact, but not lifeless, just the right mixture of soft and hard, pliability and durability.

Within a few more minutes, Bernice was almost at the point of a big "O". Hut that would be no problem. She was so sexed, so fired up, that she was good for multiple orgasms, for many sprees as she brought one guy and one broad after another to the point of ultimate excitement as they would be barely able to keep up with her. She must have been a bottomless pit of sex energy, Veronica thought, and she wondered if it related to having such a dynamite body. Probably not, she thought. After all, drive like this has to do with physiology, metabolism, nervous system and most of all psychology. It was just glorious coincidence that this bitch looked every bit as torrid as she most likely felt.

"Come on baby, do a real number on me."

With that bit of encouragement, Vern lowered her head all the way, stuck out her tongue, and felt the tip of Bernice's huge, erect nipple. It sent chills down our girl's back, exciting her no end. Veronica, who had rarely gotten a chance to suck tit, found the opportunity ultimately exciting, the perfect beginning for a real sex party. She could observe that Monty was being driven crazy by such action. He already had his clothes off and was sitting and watching with a huge boner, his cock grown to gigantic proportions, his face flushed with a sex blush.

Veronica knelt down and really got down to business. She kneaded the flesh of the huge tits, pushing them together, then apart, up and down, intermittently sucking and tasting the salty, sinuous skin of breast flesh, the best flesh.

"Suck them bitch," she said.

With that Veronica, who was well endowed herself, pushed her own knockers in the woman's face, an action which did not go unheeded. Now that the man was concentrating on Bernice's lower legs, Vern was able to straddle her, feeling her soft midsection make contact with her own soft pussy, encouraging the contact by pushing down harder with her weight. Basking in the sensations, Vern pushed her back down until her tits met Bernice's, breast to breast, nipples to nipples. Then she pushed into the woman's chest harder, until it was almost a contest to see whose tits would stay firmest under the onslaught, whose endowments had the most durability.