Michael Jaeggers - Honeymoon hotel

"Oh! Ahhh? Ahhhhaaa," she began, as if questioning exactly what was happening to her. Then she screamed, "Aiieee… Ah… aiiieee, I'm cumming, darling! I'm cumming!" Her body thrashed from side to side, her legs splayed open releasing his head, and her feet beat a tattoo of wild abandoned lust against the crumpled sheets.

Lord Medwell didn't even glance over toward Morgan. He could stand it no longer. Even as the girl was thrashing and twitching involuntarily in the throes of her orgasm, he grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees again and shoved them roughly back against her shoulders. His long rigid prick was placed against the visibly throbbing lips of her cunt.

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk," he said through gritted teeth, and suddenly began pushing forward. The elastic rimmed tightness resisted his huge circumference for only a moment, then rapidly gave way to his unrelenting pressure. Down, down, down, the pulsating white rod drove.

Dorothy tried to pull back from his attack. "No, Roger," she whimpered, "darling, you're hurting me."

Lord Medwell paused. The contractions of her cunt continued to squeeze at the head of his cock; he hadn't realized the girl's pussy was so tight. It fit his prick like a very tight leather glove, and he thought with some glee that the girl undoubtedly had been a virgin on her wedding night three days before.

She obviously had never had a prick this deep into her before, he gloated to himself, as he watched her from above with a lust filled smirk on his face. Her lips had curled back from her teeth. Pleading, incoherent whimpers of pain came from deep within her throat.

Abruptly, he could stand it no more. He rammed forward giving her all he had in one great implacable thrust; his huge expanded cock sunk in all the way to his pubic hair, and his balls – like weathered pendulums – slapped hard against her uplifted buttocks. Her legs jerked out wide on either side of his body as she kicked futilely into the air and screamed, "Oh, God! You're killing me, Roger. Please!" It was a scream wrenched from the deepest depths of her tortured womb.

As though he were demented, Lord Medwell screwed her brutally down into the squeaking mattress – pounding into her with the uncontrollable fury of a typhoon.

Morgan watched with some amusement as the old goat went about his business of ravishing the helpless girl. He had already shot two rolls of film on his tripod camera and had expended another two rolls on closeups. The girl's face was too distorted by pain to take any photos at the moment, but Morgan knew that her expression would change once her tight young pussy got used to the old man's cock. You bad to hand it to him, he thought in admiration as he watched the white pistoning rod being driven relentlessly into the girl's tightly clenched vagina. Medwell's hung like a small stallion.

Even as Morgan was thinking these thoughts, the girl's body seemed to be reacting slightly different. Her groans of pain came less often now; they sounded different – questioning, perhaps. Once, when Lord Medwell had pulled his prick out about six inches and then driven it inward with one masterful stab, the girl had moaned and an unmistakable flicker of pleasure crossed her contorted face.

A moment later, there was an almost imperceptible change in activity on the bed. Morgan saw it first, simply a small motion on the part of the girl as she pushed up to meet a downward thrust. The rest came rapidly; the young bride's eyes were beginning to glaze in pleasure, and her tongue had crept out of her mouth to rest quivering on her lower lip. It presented a lustful picture; Morgan lost no time in capturing her lewd changing expression on film.

Now the girl was moving, experimentally rotating her hips and putting her arms around Lord Medwell's midriff. Not satisfied with this, she reached down and cupped his buttocks in the palms of her hands and began of her own volition forcing him deeper into her.

Lord Medwell could hardly contain himself as he felt her abdomen begin moving up and down in time to the thrusts of his hardened cock. The contracting muscles inside her pussy were hungrily at work massaging and sucking at the inflated head. With each withdrawal of his long white cock, the pink lips of the vagina pulled and milked at the instrument. The girl was a natural born piece of ass, he thought in glee, as her quivering body pumped up and down on the rigid penis fusing the two bodies together.

Morgan had begun to feel some excitement growing within himself as he watched the girl strain against the older man. When she raised her ass from the mattress, he could see the little brown puckered anal entrance already covered with trickling cum. And he thought happily, eagerly: You're next, little asshole, you're next! I've got just the thing for you. Morgan took photographs of it all, capturing on film the utter abandon of her labours and the half-crazed erotic smile of lust playing across her taut lips. She was moving even faster than the old man now, and thrusts had become more violent as she desperately sought her second orgasm. Above the tortured creaking of the bed and the almost obscene slap of flesh against flesh, Morgan could actually hear the wet sluicing sounds of her hungrily sucking pussy as it reluctantly relinquished its hold on the lustfully driving cock sunk deeply between her thighs.

Suddenly the girl's back arched and she pushed upward with a frightening power that almost threw the old man out of the saddle. "Ooooh God… I'm cumming, love me. Fuck harder… fuck fuck… fuck, fucker, Roger… Oh, God… I'm cumming." With a deep throated groan: her body began convulsing in lewd untamed pleasure. Hot wet cum spurted from the throbbing passage. It's sticky warmth flowed down the crevice created by her buttocks; the viscous fluid inundated her anus – bringing an impatient groan from Morgan. She jerked about frantically, as though she were suffering seizure. She clawed at the old man's back; her legs pumped against him as she sought to drive him in deeper. Lord Medwell's face was taut as he sought his own release; he rammed his reaming cock forward with all his fading strength. His body drooped down heavily on her, mashing her full ripe tits against his own hairy chest. His long hard strokes moved violently in and out of the steaming passage that was now wet and slippery from the girl's continuing climax. Abruptly, he could feel the orgasm building up like explosive fumes inside his tortured balls as they beat against her unprotected ass. The lustful pleasure arched across the nerves of his abdomen and his prick throbbed once, twice… then began to spurt.

"Oh, yes, darling. Cum in me… cum all the way inside of me, Roger." Dorothy chanted as her head rolled laxly from side to side and she frantically pumped her vagina up and down the long spurting rod of flesh in an effort to drain it of everything.

Lord Medwell felt the hot slippery walls of her cunt sucking hungrily at his cock until there was nothing left in him, and his hardened organ began to deflate.

The girl lay back full-length in bed, with his prick still buried inside her. "That was wonderful, darling," she said, huskily. Her eyes closed in weary pleasure.

Lord Medwell slowly pulled his slippery penis from the girl. She moaned as though reluctant to have it leave her body.

Morgan, who had been becoming increasingly impatient, took a last closeup as the prick slowly slid out of her battered cunt. He could see the girl's wet matted pubic hair – like black moss hanging over a peaceful river bank – glistening on both sides of her vagina. The insides of her milky white thighs were smeared with the cum from both of their bodies. The open crevice of her ass was completely wet from it, and Morgan knew he could stand the sight no longer. If ever a woman was lubricated and ready for sodomizing this one was. He already knew how it would feel – hot, tight… oh, so very tight! – and beautiful.