Kitty Spencer - Three-way weekend

Her body was slippery from the sweat of the wild untamed gyrations of her ravenous body and her head flailed crazily back and forth on the satin spread beneath them as she began reaching for the orgasm just beyond her grasp.

Carlo heard her sharp gasp of pleasure as his hands roamed on the softly yielding crevice of her buttocks and, surging with the building tempo of his lust, he moved his hands higher to draw her legs up and around his neck, clasping her ankles together like some human necklace. He fucked into her mercilessly now, skewering her, and she was loving it, fucking back shamelessly, urging him on, calling for more… more… everything!

"Darling, fuck me! Fill me!" she begged, gasping as if she were close to death.

"You're a little whore, aren't you?" he demanded, ramming harder for emphasis. "You love cock, don't you?"

"Ooooooooh, yesssssss…! Yesssssss! I love cock… fucking… cock!" she moaned, out of her head with the humiliating truth of her confession. Stirred by her own lewd words, she swung her ecstatically trembling thighs up and tightened them around his neck, grinding her naked young ass in uncontrolled frenzy up and down, from side to side, spiraling her sweet, hot young cunt along the full length of his huge ramming cock to gain every atom of pleasure she possibly could.

He knew that she was his now, completely, utterly, and had no intention of showing the least bit of mercy or human compassion. He wanted to hear her plead for his hot cum, to beg to be filled with it. And even she, in her mindless ecstasy, could sense the building storm of sperm in his testicles, that soon he would give her the load she wanted so shamelessly.

"Tell me, you bitch, tell me what you want," Carlo growled as he purposefully slowed his stroking movements and teasingly sank his tremendous penis only halfway into her. "Do you want my cum in you? Do you!"

"Oh yes, yes, please!" the voluptuous young blonde gasped, her pride completely vanished as she lay impaled and naked under his weight. The thought of begging him to drive the huge cock into her and empty his balls in her belly was unbearable, but she was beyond caring and yearned only to share a mutual pinnacle of pleasure with this tyrannical stranger.

Pleased that she had submitted to his demand, Carlo increased the tempo of his lunges until he could feel the load of his male sperm rising for an earth-shattering release, the huge head of his cock flexing and suddenly growing larger inside her ravaged cuntal passage. And then, at last, he grunted like a dumb beast and heaved forward, his hot thick liquid spewing deep up into her stretched and battered womb.

Elaine was stunned when she unexpectedly felt the gush of his hot cum shoot into her writhing belly. It was too soon… She was so near, almost at her peak, and the astonishing explosion of Carlo's climax brought tears to her eyes.

Carlo felt her cunt jerk toward him, the lips working and sucking at his spurting cock. Then… after a long moment… he rolled off her, breathing deeply in an effort to fill his lungs with air.

"No! No!" she cried, spreading her legs wider and raising her naked young cunt into the air in search of something to fill it. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" she pleaded hoarsely as she drew back her legs even further, pulling apart the fleshy wet lips of her cunt and presenting him with a perfect view of her open throbbing cuntal passage oozing his shining sperm. "More, you bastard, I want more cock in me!" she shrieked at him in her violent frenzy.

Carlo grinned lasciviously as he watched Elaine's cunt flailing wildly. Now, he thought, now I'll fix the little bitch. Reaching to the night table, he pushed one of the buttons – the button that would summon the surprise Marceau had arranged for him. Turning back to the writhing figure on the bed, he said, "Patience, my dear, in a few moments you will have more cock – plenty of cock."

"Please… Please…" Elaine moaned from the bed, her voice trailing off. She was going mad, and in desperation she shoved two fingers into her wetly throbbing pussy and began finger-fucking the hungry pink folds of her own hungrily clasping cunt. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was better than nothing. She was glad to have something to fill the void of her starving cunt that she did not hear the door open, nor see Nick and Trembles enter the room…

Meanwhile, Warren Craig, the Count's guest, sat in the center booth listening to the strains of rock music issuing from the empty stage. He was bored; everyone seemed to have disappeared to somewhere or another.

Idly, he switched on the television set above his head. When the picture came into focus, he was no longer bored. The picture showed the interior of a bedroom, with a couple rutting in the middle of a large bed. As he reached up to adjust the color he discovered that the room was decorated only in one color – green. He stared intently at the couple, trying to make out their faces. Ah, now he had it. It was a young man he hadn't met and the rich heiress he had met earlier, fucking wildly, oblivious that anyone was watching them.

Curiously, he pressed one of the set's colored buttons and watched the set change channels. What was there? The room was the same, just a different decorative color – yellow. And here too, was a couple rutting wildly. He studied their faces. It was Benito and his rich widow. He pushed the orange button. Ah, this was even better. His friend the Count was stretched full length on the bed with one of the young girls – the dark-haired one – straddling his loins while another one of the even younger nymphets eagerly straddled his face, fucking her little cunt against his mouth as though she had been doing it all her life. Hmmmmmm. If only the FCC could see this! He pushed the violet button. Ah, Marceau. Now this looks interesting. On the bed was the giggling redhead with her head buried in the loins of another of the young girls, who was equally enthralled with the private parts of the redhead, oblivious to Marceau who was using a big black whip on the 14 year-old blonde girl who had appeared on the stage. He tried to watch the girls on the bed but with Marceau's bare-assed antics, getting between the bed and camera, he couldn't see a damned thing.

So, he pressed the last button – the blue one!

Ah, ha, Carlo! And behind him, the big black drummer and the midget, Trembles, Marceau's chauffeur. But who was the blonde on the bed finger-fucking herself. He squinted to get a better look. My God! It's Elaine! Elaine! My wife… ex-wife. What… what in the hell is she doing here? And like that!

Without bothering to turn off the set, Warren left the booth and hurried toward the corridor…

"You wanted more prick! Well here it is!" Carlo said harshly to the writhing figure on the bed. "Look at it!" he commanded.

Elaine's eyes fluttered open, but her fingers continued slamming in and out of her cock-starved vagina. What she saw made her recoil in sheer astonishment – and her fingers stop. Nick stood alongside the bed, his huge black penis as thick as her wrist, long and throbbing, rising up in ebony hardness like a jerking tower from between his legs. Holding his rigid shaft proudly, Nick edged onto the bed, then reached down with his other hand to draw back the foreskin in a teasing motion that brought a smile to his lips.

"You still want some prick?" Carlo taunted.

Elaine's eyes were wide with fright as she stared at the inhumanely massive cock, but the drug's effect on her hungry pussy was stronger. If she didn't have a relief soon, she would go out of her mind.

"God, yes," she pleaded, not really knowing what she was saying. "Fuck me! Fuck me before I go mad."

Carlo nodded and Nick reached forward with both hands and pulled Elaine across the bed, forcing her head down between his dark thighs in a position that was uncomfortable to stand unless she moved to the floor on all fours.