Austin Williams - Widespread whore

He was probing in her ass crack with insistent fingers. He knew the value of an asshole in love. He knew that inside the rectum of an aroused female there lies a nest of sensitive nerves.

As his mouth sucked and toyed with her tits, Rick gently inserted his middle finger into her asshole. Tuesday almost died in sheer rapture. The man knew what he was doing.

Though they were to fuck countless times before the end of their affair, Tuesday never became accustomed to the delicious thrill which Rick would wrest from her asshole by simply inserting his finger into her shithole and rotating it.

She was gasping for breath, and trying to get a hand around his cock. Ah, she got it! And it was the biggest prick she had ever touched as far as its girth was concerned.

Goddamn! He thought of how sweet that meat would be, rammed up her cunt, and she hoped that it would eventually go into her tail hole as well. But it never did. Rick kept his cock for her pussy.

He let his mouth slide down her stomach and kissed her full in the navel. Certainly, no one had made her pussy ooze by fingering her navel. But Brick again was an expert. He sank his tongue into her navel, and she gasped for breath, for as his tongue went down, his finger diddled deep in her asshole.

"Oh, Bick," she cried. "Let me have it! I really want your cock. Please, don't make me wait another second!"

"If you're ready," he said, "I'll put it in. God knows, I wouldn't tease you. When the time comes, we must always go together, pussy to prick, and try to come together."

"Ooooh! Wonderful! Wonderful!" She was thrashing about, waving her arms spastically as he sank his cockmeat into her gash. Of course, Tuesday's pussy was stretched to accommodate the big-shafted cock, and there was a certain amount of pain with the insertion. But Tuesday did not mind. His big prick rubbed so nicely on her clitoris, and it was almost too good to stand.

Once Rick was in to his full depth, he pulled out about two inches, and worked the deep stroke like that for perhaps a minute. He could see that Tuesday was ready to come.

"Go ahead and come when you feel like it;" he said, kissing her passionately. "Don't ever hold back. Get it on the upswing when it's the very

best."

Tuesday wrapped her legs about his back and locked her feet. Thus, her cunt was held up off the bed, and his activity in her asshole was made easier and more productive. Orgasm was imminent for them both, and he began to pull his cock further and further back and the length of his stroke was at maximum when they blew off together.

When he began to feel Tuesday's pussy biting on his cock, Rick knew that she was coming.

Jesus, she had never had such an orgasm.

When it was over, Rick lay lightly on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows and his knees; he let his cock soak, and every once in a while he would wiggle it slightly. Then, as his cock began to decline, he lifted himself off her, and withdrew his meat. Quickly, he produced a towel and shoved it between her legs.

"That'll keep it from running out on the bed," he said. "You wouldn't want to sleep in a wet spot."

"But, fuck," she laughed. "I'm not sleeping here. I live next door, remember?"

His face fell. "Yeah. I remember. I wish I could forget!"

In spite of having to bite Lance's cock almost every day, Tuesday was happier than she had ever been before. And as love will always find a way, hate is a fairly skillful improviser.

Tuesday found that the best way to keep Lance's cock out of her mouth was to cut it up so much he was forced to take a rest. He was no fool; he knew what she was doing.

Once in a burst of optimism, Tuesday asked Lance why he didn't just get a rusty old knife and slice his own cock.

"Big fucking deal," he sneered. "I guess you would like to have a brown handle to work up your snatch in place of that creep next door with his cock!"

Stung, she opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

Bick's capacity for lovemaking was seemingly limitless, and their opportunities were almost the same. Lance was not a problem as long as he got his cock chewed. Amy was staying away from home more and mare, always playing cards pr giving her time to civic affairs.

As the relationship between Rick and Tuesday deepened and ripened, there was no further demand made on Amy. At first she had been amused, believing that he was exercising a tremendous amount of self-control. Later, however, Amy had to confess to herself that the son of a bitch must be getting a lot of pussy somewhere else. Huh, probably that Tuesday hussy from next door.

Well, she didn't care. But if she ever caught them, she would, by God, go right over and fuck that darling Lance to death. She laughed as she thought of how jealous and mad Rick would be at that.

And so, it went on for nearly a year. Tuesday kept hoping Rick would say something about a divorce and suggest that she get one too. But he didn't. And in a way, Tuesday was relieved. She

was really afraid of Lance. God knows what he might do.

One night, while she was chewing cock and the blood was washing out of her mouth and dripping down on his balls, Tuesday pulled her lips off his prick, and said:

"What would you do, if I divorced you?"

He drew his hand back and struck her a ringing blow just above the ear with the heel of his palm. It sent her reeling across the room and she bounced off the wall. Quickly, he was on top of her, and he stunned her with a series of vicious cuffs about the head. Then, he drew back his foot and kicked her squarely in the cunt. She screamed in pain and fainted.

When she came around, the room was dark, and she knew that Lance had gone out. Painfully, she dragged herself to the bathroom and was appalled at the horrible bruises which appeared on her face. God! How she hated that mongrel son of a bitch!

After checking to make certain Amy's car was gone, she went next door and unfolded her horrible story to Rick. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed.

"Listen," he said. "You can't go back there tonight. Here, take my car and go down to a motel. Go to the Whispering Pines Court. A guy I know runs it. Get some ice and put it on your face. I'll come down later."

"Oh, Rick, go with me now!"

"No, you go ahead," he said. "I'll come along later. I've… Oh… got a couple of things to look after."

When she had gone, Bick took up a vigil at his front window; He wanted to be certain he would catch Lance when he came home.

About eleven o'clock, Lance sauntered into the yard. He had been out walking off his anger. Goddamn. Just as he was getting hot, the cunt started talking that shit about divorce. She must be crazy. Why in God's name would any woman want to divorce a man as pretty as he was?

No sooner was he in the house, than Rick knocked on the door.

"Hi," Bick said pleasantly. "Looks like we're by ourselves. Why don't we have a drink?"

"Sure," Lance said. "Come on in."

They sipped a couple of vodka martinis and made small talk, and then Bick decided to play his trump card. "Hey, listen; You're a doll of a guy. You know I been looking at you for months. I just can't take it any more. I got to suck your cock. How about it?"

Lance smiled to himself. Well, he got 'em all. Women and men. They all wanted some of him. "If you'll suck it like I say."

Bick licked his lips eagerly. "Man, if you'll let me have it, I'll do anything you want. Anything."

"Don't suck it," Lance said. "Bite it. Bite it 'til it bleeds."

"Yeah! That sounds great!" Bick said. "Get naked."

Lance was happy. Tuesday had fouled him up, and here was her lover-queer as a seven-dollar bill-slobbering to get his mouth on his bruised prick.

Lance figured a guy as strong as Rick would do a hell of a job. He wouldn't be chicken shit. He would bite the damn thing.