Curt Aldrich - Deep Crotch Mother

Holding Marcella by the top of her head, with his fingers spread wide apart, he squinched her down to provide a better alignment. Then, gripping his tallywhacker in his other hand, he slapped the bulb-ended truncheon back and forth across her face, literally clubbing her with the wild-smelling thing.

She bleated in humiliation as his cock struck her cheeks and rubbed across her face, right underneath her flared nostrils. Gusts of cock-scent rose steamily up her nose, making her brain giddier than ever.

“Aaaaaaw… nooooh… yessss… oooh, give it to me!” she panted.

Floyd pushed down on his springy rod and shoved it at her mouth. By then she was ready, and she spread her lips into a wide, juicy O. When the farmer sank his raunchy cock deep into her mouth, she glugged. Her lips tightened around his hard column, and her tongue made a velvet cradle for his cockhead as her throat flared open. Her eyes were shut. Her entire body throbbed.

Floyd began to fuck his cock slowly in and out of the church-woman’s pretty face, and she responded by sucking heatedly on his randy-flavored bone. She gulped down a mixture of her own saliva and his sex-juice.

Just then Floyd’s frumpy wife appeared in the kitchen door. “Well, I never…!” she exclaimed, staring at the obscene sight.

“I know it, you prudish old hen!” her husband rasped. “Whenever I wanted this kind of love, I had to buy it. But I’m gettin’ it for free now, and it’s goddamn good!”

He drove his hips, plunging his prick more deeply into Marcella’s mouth… and into her clasping throat, as well! She shifted her eyes sideways to look at the farmer’s wife, then shut them in shame. If the Lord was with her at that moment, she didn’t hear His voice or feel His presence. All she felt was the big, bulb-ended pecker that rammed into her throat and held her lips wide apart as its veined, ridgy hardness stroked steadily between them… tickling and teasing her… turning her on, against her will.

She sucked gulpingly on the farmer’s cock, her cheeks flushed, her eyes remaining shut. She hunched against his rhythmic but not vicious plunges, and she found that her throat could accommodate his cockhead quite well.

Sarah watched for several shocked moments, through eyes that were wide open, then she turned and rushed back to the bedroom, sobbing in self-pity over the way her husband of thirty years was “defiling” their home.

He seemed unconcerned about her attitude, concentrating on the pleasure which Marcella lavished on his prick.

“Lick it now!” he told her and pulled his gleaming plunger from her mouth with a lurid popping sound. It was jammed straight up in front of her face as he yanked her close to him, her moist lips smacking the underside of his shaft near the base. He reached into his overalls and brought his hairy balls tumbling out against her chin.

By that time she was as sensuously involved as he, and of her own accord she began to lick his velvety, big brown nuts, picking up a sharp tang of perspiration. He shoved down not too roughly on the top of her head, and her tongue dipped beneath his dangling gonads. As she ricked him down there, his balls straddled her nose.

Breathing in the super-raunchy aroma of his sweaty crotch had the strange effect of turning her on all the stronger, and she opened her wet mouth to take in a testicle. As she let his throbby nut soak in her mouth, she rolled her eyes upward to study in response.

The farmer had his eyes closed, and his mouth was agape. His upthrust prick waggled like a semaphore across her forehead.

Marcella spit out his nut, licked his velvety sac some more, plastering down some of the wispy hairs that curled around it, then warmly swabbed her tongue up the underside of his cock until she reached the plump, flavorful head. She licked around the groove behind his cock’s ridgy collar, then covered the plumlike knob, thoroughly re-coating it with her wet, gleaming saliva. Her darting tongue took up some clear honey that oozed from the slit at the tip of his organ.

“Aaaaahhhhhngh!” she said, clasping his plump peckerhead in her hot mouth to suck some more.

She bobbed forward and back, entirely of her own accord, eagerly fellating him.

“Aaaaw, hellfire…!” Floyd croaked. “I’ve gotta fuck you!” Yes! Oh, yes! she thought. Please fuck me! Fuck me good! I haven’t had a real good fucking in a long time, and I need it-even from an old codger like you! PRAISE THE LORD!

She let his big prick snap free, and it swayed to and fro as he grasped her underneath the arms and lifted. Her head lolled, like that of a Raggedy Ann, and her legs felt rubbery when she put her weight on them.

Floyd stripped the open robe off her arms, her lush breasts bobbling, and he shoved her backward onto the kitchen table. She sat in the middle of his breakfast, his eggs and potatoes squishing into the crack of her ass.

The plate had tipped, but fortunately it didn’t break under her weight, and she reached behind her to yank it free and slide it across the table.

Floyd pulled her legs wide apart and jerked them forward a little, so that her buttocks were perched on the edge of the table. This puckered her cunt, and there it was, staring at him-a wet rosy hole surrounded by a thick fringe of dark hair. He grasped his cock and moved up to her, into the fleshy V of her thighs.

His bulbous cockhead socked into the circle of her cuntmouth, spreading it, and Marcella moaned. Her cuntflesh crept claspingly forward to embrace the fullness of his knob.

“Uuuuh!” she said as the rim of her vaginal mouth settled into the groove behind his glans, and his bulb throbbed inside her.

“Ooooooohh!” she breathed heatedly as he shoved his cock deeper, sinking it inch-by-inch into her fervid flesh until her vagina claimed his horny length and she was plugged from clitoris to womb!

“Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me… “ she panted, half under her breath, sounding not at all like a church-woman.

But as Floyd began to stroke his thick, long cock in and out of her, the Divine voice seemed to speak and tell her it was all right. It was the Lord’s power moving in her, she convinced herself.

She raised her legs at either side of the skinny, middle-aged farmer, bending them so that her bare feet swayed forward and back as she hunched heatedly. She clutched Floyd around his scrawny neck, because he wasn’t supporting her back. Instead, his hands were full of her boobies, squeezing and rolling the resilient masses of smooth, nipple-studded titflesh.

He stroked forward and back, steadily and long, gliding his cockhead from her cunt’s mouth to the deepest part of her vagina. His jolts shook her titties in his hands. His hard shaft rubbed her clit-tip exactly right.

“Ooooh Goddd… oooh, glory!” she said fucking fervently with him.

He thumbed her bristling nipples, making them tingle wildly as they snapped free. They swelled so ruddy full of warm blood that they looked and felt as if they were about to burst.

The farmer kept pumping his lengthy hard-on in and out of her cunt, still moving deliberately so that the strokes stropped her hot clit to a fare-thee-well, while not giving her the rapid stimulation she would need in order to get her rocks off. She moaned and wriggled, kicking her legs. Her ass felt sticky from the eggs and potatoes, which by that time had been ground into a mush.

“Oooooh, fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck me, you old fool!” she cried, and the farmer loved it.

She lasciviously imagined his wife listening from down the hall.

Floyd’s big prick felt better and better, ramming deep into her wet vagina, its ridge and veins rippling her clasping cuntflesh. She hooked her legs behind him so that she could hold on with them as well as with her arms about his neck, and this let her bounce her fleshy asscheeks right on the table’s edge, without fear of falling.