Curt Aldrich - Deep Crotch Mother

“Just where you were before you met me. But a little wiser, I hope.”

“Do you expect me to go back to Hazel, after all that’s happened between us?”

“What’s happened?” she asked as he stopped the car. “We just messed around, that’s all. Forget Hazel and go to California by yourself. You can find a woman out there to shack up with.”

“I just might do that-right now!”

Edna grasped his penis through his pants… and squeezed. “Not yet. Give me a chance to talk with Thad first. If I can’t bring him around-if he’s as mean and nasty as he was when I last saw him- well, I just might go with you to California after all.”

“Really?”

“You’re a pretty good hunk, Harvey!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Wait for me, hm?”

“Okay.”

Edna got out of the car and walked up the driveway toward the weather-beaten house and barn. She had almost reached them when she heard a motor vehicle approaching behind her.

She thought, Good old Harvey! He decided to give me moral support, after all!

But when she turned to greet him, she stared at a rattletrap truck that squeaked to a dusty stop. A gray-haired man sat behind the wheel, but it was the woman beside him who attracted Edna’s interest.

“Marcella Plummer!” she cried, her green eyes flashing.

“Why, Sister Savage!” Marcella replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Knock off that shit!” Edna said, stepping over to the truck. “Who’s this guy?” She jerked a thumb toward Floyd.

“He owns the farm,” Marcella replied. “Edna Savage, meet Mr. Floyd Wilcox.”

Edna ignored him. “Where’s Thad?”

“In town, I guess. He’s making arrangements.”

“Oh, yeah? For you and him to set up housekeeping, I suppose.”

“Well… “ Marcella lowered her lashes demurely. “We can’t do that right away, because the local folks might talk… but if the Lord sees His way clear to let us, I’m sure that Thad and me will get married.”

“In a pig’s fat ass!” Edna cried. “Get outta that truck!”

“Why, Edna, I don’t know why you’re so uppity!” Marcella replied.

The redhead jerked the truck’s door open, grasped the other woman by an arm, and yanked. Marcella tumbled from the truck, falling onto her side in the dirt of the driveway.

“Hey, now!” Floyd cried, and hopped from the truck on the other side.

By the time he had raced around to confront the two women, Edna was sitting astride Marcella’s wriggling form, yanking her auburn hair. Edna’s skirt had rucked high on her sleek bare thighs, and her breasts shook in her gaping blouse as she leaned forward.

Marcella was showing plenty, also, kicking as she squirmed and hollered. Her skirt had slid to her lap, exposing her pale wide thighs above the gartered tops of her nylons, and Floyd could see her pink panties.

He grinned perversely, and didn’t make a move to break up the fight.

Marcella was a heavier woman than Edna. But the latter was lithe as a wildcat, and she had Marcella down. While tugging at her hair with one hand and making her squeal, Edna grasped the top of her dress with the other and ripped downward. Marcella’s bobbling breasts spilled out.

Floyd had never witnessed such a scene in his life, and the wanton ferocity of it turned him on, especially since it was taking place in the broad light of day, right in front of his house. He should have been concerned with what the neighbors would think, but he already was too worked up for that. His cock was raising a tent in the front of his overalls.

“Hellfire!” he exclaimed hoarsely, and began to rub himself.

Edna backed up slightly to try to rip Marcella’s dress all the way off, and the woman on the ground succeeded in squirming out from between Edna’s legs. Marcella scrambled to her feet. Edna’s snatching hand succeeded in grasping only Marcella’s skirt as the latter started to run. The dress pulled off her, but Marcella stumbled forward.

Edna lunged to her feet and chased the other woman.

By that time Floyd’s wife, Sarah, was watching, horror-stricken, from the house.

Marcella’s cries also had attracted the attention of a farmer working in his field next door. He stared at the buxom brunette who was running across Floyd’s front pasture, her big tits making milkshakes and her plump ass wiggling in pink panties. Her alabaster thighs flashed in the sun, her garter clasps glinting. Right behind her was a slim, pretty redhead, running as she held her skirt high on her bare legs. And Floyd was standing there staring at them, pulling at his pecker in his pants.

Edna dived, tackling Marcella, and the latter rolled in the soft grass. Edna scrambled astride her just as Marcella turned onto her back, breasts flopping. She clawed at Edna’s face, but the latter grasped two squidgy handfuls of her bouncing boobs.

“Scratch me and I’ll tear your tits off!” Edna yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Aaaw, shit!” Floyd chortled, stumbling closer, and he yanked down the zipper on his fly.

The farmer next door leaped from his tractor and ran closer. But, as if fearful of what was going on or of what it might lead to, he remained on his side of the line. When he saw Floyd pull out his erect penis and begin to pump it, he gave in and did the same.

The women squirmed and tussled on the ground, Edna squeezing and pulling at Marcella’s breasts while the latter dug both hands into Edna’s fluffy red hair. She yanked Edna’s head down, mashing her face between the soft boobs she was gripping.

“Go to it, girlies!” Floyd husked, and stroked his prick like a moron, right in the center of his field.

But if he was mentally deficient, so was his neighbor, figuring that if Floyd could act that way, so could he. He tugged on his thrusting fuck-pole as he stared from the property line, his eyes bright and his mouth slack.

The harder Edna squeezed Marcella’s tits, the more firmly Marcella yanked on her hair, holding her head between the bobbling globes. Edna felt the titty flesh vibrating against her cheeks, and her mind rocketed back in time to an incident that had occurred with another waitress in St. Joe, Missouri.

Edna got hot.

She only had to turn her head a little to one side, and her lips brushed one of Marcella’s thrusting, plump nipples. She seized the nipple in her mouth and began sucking on it.

“Hellfire…!” Floyd murmured when he saw what was happening. He stroked his cock harder.

The other farmer couldn’t see well enough, and he finally crossed the property line, running up next to Floyd with his stiff cock in his hand.

“Well shit, Walter!” Floyd cried as he stared at his longtime friend jacking off.

“Shit yourself!” Walter retorted, and rhythmically rolled his rubbery foreskin back and forward, causing his purplish-pink peckerhead to swell.

Marcella was the most dismayed of all-except for Sarah, who was still staring from her living room window at the shockingly obscene spectacle. One minute Marcella had been struggling with Edna-for her very life, it had seemed-and the next, Edna was sucking her titty while she made gurgly sounds like an infant and sent radiations of surprising pleasure coursing through Marcella’s body.

“Nooooo!” she breathed, pushing at Edna’s head. “Stop it!”

But she didn’t push very hard. What Edna was doing to her felt too good-especially after Edna jammed a hand into her wide-open crotch and rubbed her tingling cunt through the thin silken shield of her panties.

“Will you look at that, Walter?” Floyd husked as both men stroked their pricks. “The redhead’s hot for the other gal!”

“Aaaw shit, yeah!” Walter rasped. “And the other one’s likin’ it! Look at how her tongue’s comin’ out, and she’s lickin’ her lips! Her eyes are gettin’ wild!”