Bob Wallace - Eager wild wife

"Yeah, baby. Cream! Cream!" Bart's speed increased. He jammed her into the desk, grinding her clit into the wood with each jab. "Cream, bitch. Cream!"

Tiffany rocked from side to side. She snapped her head back, her dark eyes on fire, her mouth open, and her pussy creaming.

"I'm cumming! Cumming," she screamed as each violent lunge of Bart's cock drove her clit into the desk. She shoved back, only to be driven into the desk again. "I'm creaming!"

Orgasms bombarded her as Bart ripped through the narrow canal of her tight asshole. Defenseless against his attack, she wallowed in it, seething in the depravity of being fucked in the ass while someone watched. She felt like an animal – a bitch in heat. Her ass muscles contracted around the bulky width of his cock as her cunt convulsed.

Savagely, Bart fucked her ass. He watched her twisting quivering body – full hips; slender back; gorgeous ass. Watching her climax enraged him. He fucked his cock into her maniacally.

"Ooooo, it feels…" The words were lost as she screamed. Her face flushed red. Her arms gave out. She fell to the top of the desk, tits crushed, asshole skewered with cockmeat. "Aghhhhh! More, fucker. More!"

Wave after wave of orgasms washed over her body. She quivered, unable to control herself. Violent eruptions exploded deep inside her sopping cunt. Her asshole clamped tightly, milked Bart's prick. "I'm creaming! Cum! Cum, you bastard! Cream my asshole!"

Bart fucked away at her vulnerable ass. His cum, churning in his huge balls, was ready to erupt, ready to blast. "I'm ready, bitch. Ready to cream your fuckin' ass. Aghhhhh!" His body tensed. "Here it comes!"

"Cream me, fucker! Yeahhhhhh!" She thrashed on the desk, her clit mangled, her tits crushed.

Bart's balls blasted, and a thick jet-stream of jizz spewed from his cock. Thick white wads of cum squirted out, shooting deep into the tight narrow canal of Tiffany's contracting asshole. "Here, baby. Hot cum for your ass!"

Tiffany felt the spraying wads of gooey cum fill her ass guts. "I feel it! Unnnn, so deep! Unnnnn, a fuckin' enema!" Cum seemed to squirt into her belly. "Oooh, God!"

Tiffany tried to stop her wild gyrations, but it was impossible. She had lost control. Her body belonged to Bart's ass-splitting cock and the orgasms that were devastating her.

Grunting and gasping for air, Bart fucked his cock demonically into the writhing mass of flesh twisting on the desk. Hard fuck-jabs took his cum-gushing cock deep. His balls swung between his legs, slapping into her quivering flesh each time his groin fused with her ass cheeks.

With her ass pulsing rapidly around his burrowing prick, he lurched forward. The desk creaked. Tiffany squealed. Hot jizz gushed from his cock. The cords in his neck tightened. His face screwed up into a mask of lust. His hips became driving pistons.

"Ohhh, I can't stop creaming," Tiffany shrieked hysterically. "I… can't… stop!" She took Bart's cum into her ass. Her own cum flowed from her pussy. She jerked against his cock, her knees banging into the desk, her tits flattened against the top. She held on for dear life, knuckles white, clutching.

She raised her head, stared back at Bart fucking his prick into her ass. She felt each stab, each squirt of jism. Her eyes widened. Everything became a blur. An orgasm of severe intensity rumbled through her body. She screeched, lowered her head, losing consciousness for a moment.

With Tiffany's asshole greased with his cum, Bart was able to fuck faster. He pounded her ass, drilled his prick to the hilt. Her screams, twisting body, pulsing ass muscles against his cock, carried him into another roaring climax. His head snapped back. His back stiffened. He was creaming like never before.

He emptied the last of his jizz into her asshole, his eyes fixed on her rotating hips. His driving hips slowed, came to a stop. He took a deep breath, letting it out noisily.

Tiffany blinked. The room was coming into focus again. She glanced at Larry, who had watched it all. "I thought I was going to die."

Bart eased his cock out. It was covered in his own cum. He dropped into a chair, exhausted. "Baby, I never thought anything would be better than your month, but I was wrong. Your asshole is."

Tiffany laughed. She dressed, a hot triumphant smile on her face. "I want two sets of those photos," she said.

"Sure," Larry said. He pushed back from the desk and scooped up the pictures off the table, then produced another packet from the file. He slipped both packets into a manila envelope. "Here, Tiffany. We've got the negatives, if you need them."

"I don't know how to thank you two guys."

"A check will be fine," Bart said.

"All I have are credit cards." She laughed, tossed them on the desk. "A present from my husband. Take your pick."

After they had used one of her cards, Tiffany left. For a brief moment, she paused at the door to her husband's office.

"I'll be back, fucker," she muttered, and strode forcefully down the hall to the elevator. The evidence was in her purse, and she'd had a ball, but she didn't feel at all like she had won anything. In fact, she felt shitty, as if she had lost everything. She held back her tears and stepped into the elevator.

Steeling herself to what she had to do, Tiffany returned to the Howard Building a few hours later. The palms of her hands were sweaty.

Although she looked terrific, she felt terrible. Her marriage was over, and she had acted like a tramp. Ryan had his little blonde bitch, and she had nothing. She didn't even want the credit cards. They were no substitute for her husband's love.

She felt alone, although she was crammed in a crowded elevator. She rode it up to the sixth floor, being squashed by noisy animated people whose lives she sensed were a lot fuller than her own.

She walked down the hall, stopped at the door to Ryan's office. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and went inside.

For a moment, she had second thoughts, but seeing Kate, Ryan's little blonde secretary, made her more determined than ever to go through with everything.

"Can I help you?" Kate purred, looking up.

"You already have," Tiffany snapped. With Kate staring at her, not understanding, Tiffany reached into her purse and grabbed a packet of the photos. "I'm Ryan's wife, and I think you might be interested in these."

Kate gasped. "I… I didn't recognize…" Her eyes settled on the first photo.

"You little whore!" Tiffany spat. She slapped the startled secretary across the face and stormed into Ryan's private office.

"Tiffany! What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you a present." She strode over to his desk, tossed the other packet of photos on his lap. "I thought you might like these for a souvenir." She kept her control, watched his expression turn to shock.

Ryan picked up the pictures. His heart sank. The explicit photo on the top told the story. Silently, he slipped them into his desk. There was no sense lying about it. She had him cold.

"I gave the little bitch a set too." Tiffany's voice was wavering, cracking with emotion.

Ryan looked at his wife. "I have no excuse. It just happened." He felt his gut churn. "I love you, Tiffany… more than anything."

Tiffany found it difficult to speak. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "If you love me, what about the pictures?"

"Four days ago," he began, "after we argued on the phone, I was feeling shitty." He took a deep breath. "Kate came in, must have sensed my mood. She came on like a steamroller. Because I neglected you for so long, I in turn had neglected myself. I didn't stand a chance."

Tiffany's breathing was shallow. "Never before then?" she asked. It was barely a whisper.

"Never," he said. "After that… what can I say? She was available. I mean really available."