Perry Verihard - Lustin And Teasin

She made a vacuum in her mouth and repeatedly squeezed the head of his cock in and out. It was growing, pulsating, getting closer- with each powerful pull of her lips. Then she felt him jerk, felt his bodily heat, and his hand jerked her face away from the purple-headed cock.

Before her eyes he kneeled down and directed the red shaft at the floor. With several frantic strokes of his hand he brought it to a climax, his rump tightened, he inhaled with pleasure and sent stream after stream of white, sticky jism into a puddle right at the center of the pink pillow.

"Ohhhhh… " Darlene groaned.

She wanted to kill him, to rip the cock right from his crotch and batter his face with it. But the next man was in place and she knew what would happen. She wrapped her defeated mouth around his long pecker and sucked. This was the cock from her cunt, it tasted of petroleum jelly too and had traces of her own flavor mixed along with it.

She tried the same approach as she did on the first man but it got nowhere. Then the cock insisted on jabbing deep into her throat, that's what he liked. Darlene twisted her head from side to side, rolled around the axle of his cock and felt the heat in his limb growing.

She cupped his nuts with her hand and rolled them between nimble fingers while revolving back and forth on his cock. It didn't take as long to work this man up as it did the first, in minutes she felt him push her back, felt the burning cock slide frantically out of her mouth.

He cut it close, he didn't even have to stroke his cock it spilled so quickly. His abundant sperm gushed onto the pillow and puddled with the first pool of jism. Then he was away and the black man took his place.

This was the cock already familiar with her mouth and he put it where he liked. Deep in her throat. Again Darlene's nose was covered with hair and her neck bulged with the great fill. She felt his hands on her head, they grabbed and started to pump her like a melon onto his cock. She had had this done to her before and it flooded back the memories of the horrible nights, or were they days, she had suffered in this room.

The cock pounded unmercifully and she realized that all the nights weren't horrible, just the nights with men wearing the damned masks of Chuck!

The cock flew from her lips and the man wrapped his hand around it. She watched with dazed vision as his hose blasted gush after gush of frothing, plentiful juice down to make the puddle of jism enormous. He finally rose to his feet and backed away. The pillow sat before Darlene like the silk pillow before a queen on her coronation day. But this one had no crown, just a puddle of jism.

She hoped she was finished with the disgusting men as she reached out to retrieve the pillow. At least there was sperm, at least she could rub it into her cunt after they left and enjoy that much of this dissatisfying sex.

As soon as her shaking fingers touched the satin pillow Darlene learned how wrong she was. The men all came forward, two grabbed her arms and pulled her away. She didn't fight, she just went limp and moaned, it wasn't over yet. The black man picked up the pillow and held it before his leering mask of Chuck as the others placed her in the center of the room.

The tall black man approached slowly, he reminded Darlene of the ring-bearer in a wedding, or the bishop carrying the crown to the waiting queen. He stopped in front of her and paused. Then slowly, deliberately he lifted the pillow up and brought it down on her head.

Darlene sat in stunned silence as she felt the large quantity of semen trickle through her hair, into her scalp, down across her ears and onto her shoulders. It smothered her beautiful hair, coated her like a cream rinse. Then the men walked from the room and left her with her pillow.

It was Saturday morning so Ken stayed in bed. He felt relaxed, calm. The sun sprinkled its beautiful light on the bedroom draperies, it was a great day outside. But he had plans for an even greater one inside. He knew Betty would be coming over early to take care of the kids.

When he heard the front door open Ken's heart started to pound and as each step came closer to the hallway his breath grew quicker. He could see her through his half-open bedroom door, delicious, blonde hair trailing down her back, another short, flirtatious skirt, this one plaid.

The lithe, well-formed legs of her supple body glowed in his vision as she quietly walked by trying not to wake him. He saw the profile of her proud, full breasts and jutting little rump. The healthy plum had arrived, it was time for breakfast in bed.

"Betty?" he softly called out.

She froze in her tracks and Ken almost laughed. It had been two days since he busted her cherry, two days to recover and heal. But she didn't run home crying, telling, pointing a shaking finger at him and saying, "That's him! That's the man who put his thing inside me!" No, Betty played it cool, kept her sweet-lipped mouth shut. Ken appreciated that.

Slowly she turned around to face his open door with fright filled eyes. He hadn't touched her yesterday, acted as if the whole thing never happened. On the one hand Betty was relieved, on the other confused. What he did to her that night seemed terrible at the time but afterwards she found no scars, no visible signs of harm. It wasn't as terrifying as her imagination let her believe.

"Yes, Mr. Williams?" she quietly whispered.

"Come here."

She hesitated, took one step, then stopped. It wasn't her bedroom, it was Mr. and Mrs. Williams' bedroom, a place where she didn't belong. Ken saw the indecision in her face, the slight opening between her lips and darting eyes. He let her suffer a few seconds more before saying, "It's all right. Come on in."

That was all it took to lead the little bug into the web of the spider. Ken's cock was already growing stiff over the tender flesh of her exposed thighs, calves and ankles. And as he watched how the great masses of her firm breasts made gentle wobbles as she walked his cock grew even harder. She was without a bra and he could see the points of her nipples through the cotton fabric.

"It's Saturday," he said. "Let's let the kids sleep a bit longer."

She stood beside his bed with her hands in front of her, they hung down to her crotch as if they were protecting the little slit inside. "If you say so, Mr. Williams," she politely answered.

He grinned. "You enjoy doing the things I tell you, don't you?"

"I guess so."

"You're an obedient, well-behaved young lady and you like it that way, don't you?"

She nodded, swallowed. "Yes sir, I try to do what I'm told by adults."

"Good girl," he soothed. His hand pulled back the covers of the bed. Betty's eyes were captured by his long, hard prong as it stretched up from its nest of hair to lie across the hair and flesh of his stomach. Again, she swallowed, started to turn and leave.

But Ken's hand grabbed hers and gently drew her back. The big, curious eyes once more zeroed in on the red spike. She stood very still, very silent as his hand moved up her arm and undid the top button of the blouse. He could see her tender skin tremble and cover with goose-flesh as he undid button after button.

She remained motionless as he parted the white blouse and gazed at the breathtaking beauty of her upthrust breasts. The white, delicate flesh was flawless right down to the outer rim of the pink, cone-like nipples. They were soft, warm, loose and the color of papayas. But Ken didn't touch the appealing tits, instead his hand went down to her skirt and lifted.

He viewed the priceless ecstasy of perfectly formed hips and rump. The way they blended, curved and melted together with absolutely no excess meat fascinated him. There was only one other body he admired in such a way, Darlene's. Betty's undies were powder blue and quite brief. The crotch covered a filled hump of prime meatiness and wrinkled together to slide under the mound and nestle next to the lips of her amazing, tight little hole.