Unknown - Charity Ball

Billowing scrotum wafted like a hot-air balloon. As the come coursed on down her chest, Constance swooned into his nest.

She felt the hot rush of jissom in her face. slugged down draughts of his joy juice.

Quaffed come into her tam-turn.

Inside her stomach, the jissom boiled.

Her snatch was a patch of hot oils.

Arturo wiggled his pecker.

A few snaggles of jizz traced the angle of her nose. Constance gnawed nuggets.

Played with his hose.

“So they got hostages in-where?” Arturo paused. “No hay problem, man.”

He wrapped his legs about Constance’s face. Brought her head up underneath his rump.

She sucked his asshole ravenously. Eating out anus about the crinkled rim.

His body jumped like a trout.

Constance’s fingers wormed in and out.

Her fingers hooked into the cranny of his fanny. Thumb banged on the outer edge of his asshole.

Corked right in.

“Awk! That’s a zinger,” Arturo stuttered, pulsing his buns. “Tell you what to do, though, man. Invite that father-fucking prime minister over for dinner.

Find out what he really, really likes. Then maybe you can take him aside. Get him addicted to drugs or little girls. You become his supplier, and, man- you be in like Flynn.”

Constance thumbed his bung as his ballocks bounced in her face.

She lapped the seam between his ass and his scrotum. Snapped teeth at his testicles.

Blew up his bottom until his legs spasmed weakly. Flailing her own clit maniacally.

Constance’s face was straining in the agony of her incipient orgasm.

Screaming clit touched off a frenzy from her toes to her brain.

Come rained from her cunny.

Pussy puled for attention.

Purring pussy, hungering for birdmeat. Mewing, stewing, fretting like a kitten.

Constance slashed her legs apart.

Rutted up into the air at his face.

Displaying widespread labia.

Pink, open lips.

Attempting to kiss.

Arturo’s mindless ranting excited her all the more. She suffered because she was ignored by her husband. Mental rough staff.

And.she was no creampuff.

She could take it.

Anywhere he gave it.

She snatched up his cock and waved it. The prong sprang forward.

Out and up.

Strutting like a fighting cock.

She hawked the head down her throat once more. Ate away the dregs of his last coming.

The dick jammed below her belly.

Slick underside of Constance’s haunch tickled as Arturo Mondragon Bourbon’s cocktip bounced back and forth between her cunt and her bung.

The balls swayed as they hung.

Then the twanger tipped into her front.

He began to rut.

The edges of her cunny stung.

She dropped her chin to her chest. Her tongue tolled forth and hung.

He pawed her tits as he syruped words into the mouthpiece of the telephone.

Droning on and on, wheedling deal after deal as he sent his pricktip home.

Constance felt the cockmeat quest deeper.

Drilling her to the bone.

Filling her froufrou with rivulets of rutsweat. Lathered ladyjuice caked the length of his stake. Constance’s cunt quaked.

Arturo patted the ends of her boobs.

Suckered them aimlessly in the sides of his mouth as he listened thoughtfully to the long-distance litany of monstrous problems of peculiar complexity. The blood in his erection increased in density. The size engorged to immensity.

Constance chattered wordlessly as the man’s blind (tick took control. She whirled like a spreading wildfire in the wind.

Din of orgasm ringing in her ears.

Sears of pain in her groin as the spear savaged her insides with tear after tear.

Arturo hunched his shoulders.

Threw his head back.

Flipped his eyes up and stared into the back of his brain.

As his dick drained nacreous sludge into Constance’s rawhide cunt.

The goo spilled over the rind of her froufrou fruit. Scum syruped between the crack of her ass as Arturo maneuvered fast.

He had his prick up inside her ass.

Pumped fast.

Erection returning as if he were automatic. Crack after crack into her rump.

He jackknifed forward over Constance’s haunch and peered through the telescope as he simultaneously spoke and lucked ass. He gauged the boob size of several Mediterranean Messalinas slinking along the surf line.

“What’s the matter?” Constance whispered. “Aren’t there enough tits for you right here?”

“Fucking gringuita bitch. You don’t never innerup me when I yam een conference.

Don you fucking laugh at me. Shut your sistersucking face. Theese ees is no something funny!”

Then Arturo snapped the telephone from his face. He gripped Constance about the waist.

Pulled her higher onto his cock.

Yanked her head back by her hair. Pulled it taut.

Gave her a shot with his knuckles on her chin. Tore her head to the side.

Pummeled her again.

“Unh.”

“I’ll get you for that,” Arturo spat.

“What?”

He smacked across her face.

“What on earth is that for?”

“Because I am your husband. And I will be king.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I talked to that ambassador man. That knight boyfriend of yours-”

“That was before-”

“But you see him now.”

“At parties-”

“Balls! He said to tell you he sends his best. His best right up your ass!”

“Ungh. Arturo. I’m telling you. If you hit me one more time when I don’t want you to, I will cut your face to shreds with my fingernails.”

“And he says that know he is no fucking knight no more. He is a lord! You don’t fucking think I don’t fucking know what the fuck-fuck-fuck that means. I know you whore for the lord!”

“Arturo, please-”

“My wife-she a slut. She a fucking whore. Puta. If! yam king, I can have you killed for even looking at another man. But you tuck him-”

“No-”

“I know you luck him all the time. But in this tucking gringo country they have laws to protect you tucking cunt criminals. I can’t do tucking nothing to you that I should do.”

“Do it to yourself from now on, your majesty. I’m gone.”

“So he really was a good screw, huh?” Veronica said. “Too bad about that temper.”

“So I did have an affair or two. Shit, Veronica. He was out banging every rotten slice of cuntmeat he could buy.”

“And he gave you a divorce?”

“It was my claim-abuse-at first. Then things got worse. The prick countersued, saying I was a prostitute from the first and entrapped him into marriage. Said it was fraud on my part.”

“Fuckingchrist. And him a fake king. Who won?”

“Well, no one. It was settled out of court. I guess if anyone won, the lawyers did.”

“All Jewboys, I bet.”

“Veronica-please be a bit more open-minded. Yes, coincidentally the attorneys involved did happen to be Jewish. But mine was a woman.”

“You fuck her, Constance?”

“You tease. If you didn’t have such tight little titties, Veronica, you’d never get away with half the foul things you say.”

“And who’s this private dick sucker supposed to be anyway?”

“He comes most highly recommended to me. He is apparently sensitive to the values people like us hold in our hearts and minds.”

“Can’t believe that. Are you gonna check him out? I mean, before you hire him for sure?”

“There is a minor task I have in mind that will assist him in proving his worth, Veronica.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to set him to a little matter that has come up pertaining to some of my pearls.”

“You mean the pearls you-”

“Those are the ones I have in mind. After all, it’s the season for the charity ball.”