David Crane: The wild west family

On Sunday morning, Peter West woke up feeling horny – and with a huge hard-on to prove it.

The bedsheets were lifted up over his loins as if raised on a tentpole. Peter grinned. Having a hard-on was no hardship at all, since his voluptuous wife, Marianna, was in bed beside him, naked.

He glanced at her. She was asleep, but even in repose her lovely face was lustful. She had high cheekbones and a wide, sensual slash of a mouth. Her eyes were closed. When they opened, they would be misty green.

Peter gently drew the covers down and leaned up on one elbow, admiring her body.

She was dark and sultry and shapely. Her tits thrust up in perfect spheres, capped by the stiff, rosy peaks of her perky nipples. Peter's mouth watered at the sight. His gaze slid down her slender stomach and gently rounded belly. Her cunt-vee was a tangled thicket of raven-dark hair spreading out wide from her groin.

Her legs were long and lovely. They were closed, at the moment, but Peter knew that the cunt between them was a hot, juicy fuck-box.

He wondered how much fuck-juice he had pumped into her pussy during the years.

He also wondered if anyone else had.

Marianna had been promiscuous when they met and Peter had never been too sure or confident of her fidelity since they had mated. But the idea of his wife screwing other guys didn't really trouble him. The slight twinge of jealousy he felt only made him hornier.

He looked at her for a while, his stiff cock throbbing in response. As she breathed with regularity, her delectable tits gently rose and fell.

Peter leaned down and kissed a taut titty tip, then kissed the other. He licked them very softly, then sucked one into his lips and nursed on it.

The sensitive bud swelled and pulsed.

Marianna smiled slightly in her slumber.

Peter's head moved from mound to mound as he mouthed both nipples in turn.

"Ummmm," she whimpered.

He looked up at her face and saw that her eyes were still closed, although the lids had begun to flutter. He wondered if she were dreaming.

She looked to be about twenty years old, he thought. No one would ever think that she was in her forties, with two grown kids.

He worked on her tits for some time, moving between them. He licked the globes and ran his tongue up through her deep, smooth cleavage. Then he suckled on the tips again, very gently, not awakening her.

Her legs shifted, parting.

Peter's prick was pounding like a jackhammer, sending him urgent messages, demanding to be sunk up her cunt-gash. But he was in no hurry. Peter was a thoughtful lover who enjoyed lingering over the preliminaries, giving her plenty of foreplay before he stuffed her.

He was happy that it was a Sunday morning and that they could stay in bed as long as they liked.

He thought they might fuck until noon.

But because it was a Sunday, their teenaged kids were at home, as well.

And young Bunny was enjoying spying on her mom and dad very much.

Bunny was a bouncy, nubile young lady who promised to become as voluptuous as her mother. She had plump titties and a trim, round ass and a creamy cunt.

She was also a dreadful little peeper.

At the moment, Bunny was kneeling in the hallway, her eye pressed to the keyhole. The naughty little vixen often pecked into her parents bedroom and sometimes – like today – she struck it lucky.

She wasn't dressed yet this morning and was wearing only a flimsy nightgown. Her nipples were poking out in stiff peaks against the silky black material as she became aroused by what she was looking at.

She slid one hand up under the hem and stroked her sleek inner thigh. Then she cupped her hand over her smoldering cunt, rubbing herself sensually.

But she wasn't trying to cream off yet.

The girl wanted to save her own cuming until she had watched her dad fuck her mom.

In fact, she wished that her handsome, well hung daddy would give her a fuck, too. But she knew that would never happen, since incest was wicked.

Her pussy was bubbling over, a pool of cuntjuice forming in her palm. Her clit was tingling frantically. But she resisted the impulse to trig herself off and waited, watching through the keyhole in fascination.

Her young brother, Jack, was sitting downstairs, looking through the Sunday newspapers and waiting impatiently for his mother to come down and make breakfast.

He had two reasons for his impatience.

He was hungry for one thing.

And the potent young man had a booming hard-on that he was anxious to beat off.

Jack jerked off with regularity every morning. On days when he had to go to school, he always beat his meat off before he got out of bed. But on Saturdays and Sundays he liked to have his breakfast first, then go back to his bedroom and linger over a nice long hand-job or two.

C'mon, Mom, he urged.

He guessed she was sleeping late.

She was, too – but she was beginning to stir restlessly, as her husband fondled her tenderly.

Peter, his head cradled to her tits, slid a hand down her slim belly. The heel of his hand rested on her cunt-gash and his fingers dipped into her groin.

Her cunt was soaking wet and sizzling hot. Peter stirred his fingers in her gooey cunt-gash and stroked her fiery clit.

Her pussy felt so tantalizing that the thoughtful man decided to eat her out for a while, before he fucked her. He wondered if he could make her cream with his tongue without waking her up. The idea of giving Marianna a wet dream was very exciting.

He began to lick down her tummy, dipping his tongue into her belly button, then shifting lower. He lapped at the silken tangle of her cunt-bush.

Holy shit, Bunny thought.

Daddy's gonna suck Mom's cunt!

The prospect sent lances of lust lashing through her loins and her cunt steamed in her hand. She was so hot now that she thought her palm might blister as her boiling cunt-oils seeped from her slot.

She was plucking at her titty tips with her other hand, pulling and rolling the vibrant nubs. Her tongue slid back and forth across her sensual mouth, as if she were emulating the licking that her father was about to give her mom. She envied her mother. How lucky the woman was to have a cunt-lapping husband. And, in a strange way that she really didn't understand, she kind of envied her daddy, too.

Bunny was certainly not a lesbian.

But she had to admit that the thought of sucking a cunt was very exciting.

Peter ran his tongue slowly up the damp inside of Marianna's smooth thigh. He switched over and licked lightly up the other leg, pausing just short of her crotch.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled, breathing in the pungent perfume of hot cunt.

The fragrance tantalized him, whetting his appetite and making him drool.

His hands slid up and he cupped her flanks, lifting her pelvis up higher. She whimpered softly. He was looking hungrily at her fuck-slot.

Her cunt-lips were unfurled like the petals of a fleshy pink blossom. Her open slot was flooded with cunt-cream. Her stiff clit stuck out like a stump in a swamp. Her pussy looked scrumptious – and he knew damned well that it was. He stared at the feast like a glutton at a banquet.

His eager tongue slid out and he flicked it against her tingling clit. She sighed and squirmed. Her loins moved languidly as he licked her, and her tits loomed up as her breathing got heavier.

Peter lapped her clit, then ran his tongue up her parted pussy-lips, attentively, paying attention to the details. He nibbled and nursed on her clit then fluttered his tongue against it again. That sensitive little pink nugget was starting to vibrate like a tuning fork.