Paul Conroy - Sex Sated Minister

The mighty truncheon drove forward again, going in full length, the pressure of her thighs aiding him. Half his cock came sliding out again, only to once more ram itself into her.

Ahhhh hahhhh… ahhhh hahhhh… ahhhh hahhhhh… " she grunted as he began a steady, cadent fucking into her. Her breath was the punctuation of his powerizing strokes. And though she felt the thickness grind deep into her body, there seemed to be no great effort on his part as he drove into her again and again. Yet the force of his strokes made the bed tremble, tightening and loosening the concertina like interior of her overanxious cunt. Each jolt made her heavy breasts bounce, forcing the meaty circles of her ass to open and close, making her locked thighs shudder and tighten like a winding clock spring. Jolt after jolt tremored through her firm body, backfiring into his body, an endless, vicious circle of fucking constantly renewing itself again and again.

Abigail's moans were a constant rhythmic tribute to his repeated plungings. Burning pleasure hurriedly ran through the entire length of her blazing canal as his bloated, swollen organ continued hammering away inside. Each concussion of flesh against flesh caused her senses to swirl and enlarge into an eternally growing sense of utter inner totality. Her dead husband had taught her the virtues of the cock, but it had been a strictly medicinal thing as far as he had been concerned. Now Abigail could understand the need for love in fucking as the second orgasm in her body began building. Because of this love, and her understanding of it, she knew the intensity of the oncoming orgasm would supersede everything else she'd ever felt. There was a wild, paroxysmic orgasm about to overwhelm her. Every magnificent plunge of his working phallus into her clutching cunt enhanced the turbulent sensation building in her body to unbelievable proportions. It was becoming more and more overpowering, even if it felt as if he could go on fucking her forever.

Yet even forever comes to an end. What starts moving, must eventually stop. What seems to be irresistible force must eventually spend itself, and what appears to be immovable must move. So it was with Davey and his mother beyond all infinities of rapture they'd ever believed possible. As a meteor, which goes on unendingly in space suddenly falls into the atmosphere of the earth and burns itself up, so did the thrashing couple move to their ultimate apex.

Davey felt an agonizing vortex of semen swirl through the depths of his testicles. It whirled and whirled until it seemed to be funneling itself up through the narrow tubes leading in turn to yet another narrow tube which would take the flaming ointment out of his body, jetting it into the tight, agonized sheath of the woman he called his mother.

"Maaaaa… " she heard him screech. "Oh ma, I love you, oh maaaa… I'm'… uhhh… commmmmiiiiiiinnnnnngggggguuuuhhhhh!"

Cataclysms of climactic turbulence swelled in his loins, tightened his backbone, and rattled the very ribs of his skeletal cage. Abigail's thighs clamped all the more tightly around him, her body a contracting cage closing with spine-bending pressure around him. She, too, was on the verge of orgasm. Her body was steel-hard and totally unbending as her mouth opened and her soft moan became a loud groan, which in turn became a noisy, violent, howling screech.

"Dawwiiiiiiddddd! Aaaarrrggghhhaagghh!"

Her screeching voice became a. solid vale of maddening sound enclosing the two of them as he fucked wildly into her, spurting the last of his cloying liquid into the farthest reaches of her cunnus. His white come splashed into the puddles of lubricious ointment she had filling her tunnel. The agonizing, wonderful peak of ultimate pleasure held them for a longtime, making them cling to one another, violently trembling and shaking, and yet, through all the violence and shuddering both felt the warmth and contentment of love for one another.

Sin? Abigail thought to herself. Sin? Is that what she had been taught in her youth, that this wondrous, shuddering, world-shattering sensation was sin?

Maybe there were other people in the world who would go on believing it, but she knew better, where was no sin in something like this. It had taken her second husband, more devoutly fanatic in his ways than she had been in hers, to bring her to this realization. For this she would always mourn him. His not being around to educate others was a great loss to the world as a whole.

This was her boy. He had made love to her, giving her all that was in his body. Anyone calling this evil was stupid and foolish as she had once been. And because of her stupidity and blind, unreasoning assininity, she had lost this family.

She wanted them back. Oh how she wanted them back. But she had no wish to deprive Betty of her husband. THAT would be a real sin. Betty had given her comfort and solace at a time when she very dearly needed it. One did not repay goodness with evil.

Abigail fell asleep clutching her son's body very tightly to her. It would be a body she would miss once she left the house. And she had to leave. She had no right to remain and destroy the happiness that existed here.

She awoke the following morning long after everyone else was up. In the warm, bright light of day she felt no sorrow for what she had done. She would gladly do it again and again and again, and not for the sake of others, either. She would do it for her own sake.

What was the use of ruminating. The time had come for her to find a place to live. She had to seek out a good man, and this time see if she could be as good to him as Betty was to Ira.

Dressing in the clothes Betty had given her, she went downstairs to the kitchen. The entire family was up and waiting.

"What are your plans now?" Ira asked.

"I… don't know," she replied, sitting at the table while Betty brought her eggs, toast, and coffee.

"I think you should stay here with us," Betty said.

"I can't do that," Abigail stammered. "How would it be, me, the former wife, and you, the present wife, living under the same roof. People would talk."

"Not really," Betty pointed out. "After all, you've just been through a crisis and we helped you."

"But how would you feel about my living here?"

"I think it'd be wonderful," Betty replied. "I love both kids, but I could never begin to take the place of their real mother."

"I know, but… "

"But what?" Ira asked.

"Ira, I'm not the same woman. I've changed an awful lot. I've come to realize how horrible I was to you. I had no right doing such terrible things. And it's because I've changed that I don't have the right to be here. I mean, watching you and Betty, and not having a man of my own… "

"You can use Ira until you do get a man of your own," Betty insisted.

"What?" Abigail asked.

"You heard me," Betty implied. "You need a man, Ira is at your disposal. And if you get tired of Ira you can go back to using Davey."

"You know… " Abigail said, blushing.

"With all the noise you made last night it'd be kind of difficult for us not to know," Susan told her mother.

"And none of you disapproves?"

"We kind of like the idea," Betty told her. "We also like the idea of you joining us. You see, we're every bit as loving as you've become. And if you want, we'll prove it."

"And in case you should happen to dig up another man you come to like very much," Ira told her, "you can either leave with him, or bring him in to join our love games."

"Are you all really sure you want me to stay?" Abigail asked.

"Positive," they all announced.

"Okay," she agreed. "But Betty is the female head of this house, not me."

"Who cares about the head," Ira laughed, approaching his former wife as she stood. "What I'm interested in is, who is the best cunt in this house?"