Rick Jennings - Pet shop pussy

Justin watched her, a smile of pleasure etched across his lips. Her flushed naked body beckoned to him, calling out as he gazed at the musty smelling tangle of blonde fur that covered her thin yet puffy labia.

The folds of meat clung to each other and pictured the pleasure that would soon be his when he peeled them wide again. Only then, it would be as a result of the insistent invading pressure of his cock, not his fingers.

She tugged more vigorously, surprised that his jeans were as tight-fitting as they looked, difficult to remove as if he had worn them in the bath to get them to shrink to the very lines and proportions of his burly figure.

And then, even before she was rewarded with the sight and feel of his cock, even as he pulled off his faded blue work shirt, she was able to see the damp thick forest of his wiry black pubic hair. It made a thin furry line down over his flat washboard stomach and the hollow depression of his navel. Then, it thickened abruptly, fanning out across his groin, barely concealing the braided blue veins along his crotch.

Then the jeans were pulled lower and seconds before his dick was released, she was able to stare at it as if she had never seen a man's organ in all of her life. It had been a long time, in actuality, and though she couldn't say that she had forgotten what a penis looked like, she still stared as if she had never seen one before, or at least, never one as vigorously proportioned as that which Justin Whitlock now sported.

"Pull 'em down," he said with a note of impatience. He was shuddering, wanting her to suck him off before they would really get down to business. The latter was going to be a surprise, he decided. But first he fully intended to enjoy the wet slobbering embrace of her horny little mouth.

Pam certainly wasn't adverse to opening her lips wide and taking in as much of his dick as she possibly could. So her fingers pulled his jeans still lower until she had freed his cock. It sprang out at her like an uncoiling spring, the bulbous cap of his penis hitting her right across the lips.

After that, nothing seemed in the least bit surprising.

She didn't even have time to stare, to take in the details of his genitalia. Almost as if the motion was a reflex action, she opened her mouth, her jaws aching as she thrust her reddened and eager young face right down over the leaking head of Justin's penis.

"Perfect, perfect," he groaned, swiveling back and forth so that his glans banged against one side of her mouth and then the other. He didn't rush into things, nor push forward to greedily and excitedly impale her mouth over the entire length of his swollen member.

No, for he took his time, letting her get used to the virile dimensions of his manly rod. He could see how she was straining, how her lips were spread grotesquely wide, no doubt wider than she had ever opened her mouth before.

His cock was nearly as thick around as her girlish wrist and Pam was doubly amazed by its sheer length and breadth. Seven inches had always seemed large and certainly adequate. Eight inches of surging manflesh had been tried only once before. But Whitlock was hung to the length of nearly nine hard inches and the additional thickness of his throbbing member made it doubly difficult for her to get her lips all the way around his gristly cock-shaft.

"Take your time… and use your tongue," he whispered. He bent his knees slightly and kept his hands on his hips, his fingers dangling down towards the deep inguinal indentations that set his crotch off from his thighs and belly.

She slid her head closer, feeling the way she was taking in more and more of his joystick. And when the head of his cock banged against the back of her throat she gagged slightly and stopped, trying to grow accustomed to the unusually energetic dimensions of Justin's penis.

He is the guy in the dream, she told herself, for even down to this, the size of his dick, he had not disappointed her or proven to be in any way different from that silent stranger whom she had known through her fantasies, the jean-clad figure who stepped into her bedroom for his ritualistic round of early morning rape and forced sex.

This too was almost forced, but she rather enjoyed that as well. He didn't grab hold of the back of her head the way she had done to him, but stood there, almost cocky, his hands on his hips and his penis buried a good six or so inches between her tightly clinging lips.

She couldn't take in the entire length; having never learned how to avoid gagging when her mouth was so completely filled. But he didn't thrust or jerk forward. Rather, he slid his pecker halfway out, savoring the friction and tactile stimulation produced as he grazed his shaft along the edges of her small even white teeth.

She slapped her tongue along the ridge of muscle that bulged out on the underside of his tool and as she pressed her knees down onto the carpet, kneeling before him, her fingers reached down to lift up the dangling weight of his hairy scrotal sac.

His balls were like hen's eggs, heavy and filled with come. She ran her fingers over the folds of wrinkled flesh and let his sac dangle against the palm of one hand. And then she explored the muscular expanse of his hairy thighs, loving the very sense of strength, of power and animalistic fury, which seemed to be radiating from his body.

Justin had seen chicks go wild over him in the past, but none had ever carried on the way Pam Harper was doing. He didn't fully understand where he stood in the scheme of things, the true importance of being the reincarnation of her dream-figure. But even if he didn't understand what she was going through, he certainly could comprehend the way she was deriving just as much pleasure as he was. She shoved her face back and forth, slamming her mouth over his bulging dong so that the head of his cock tickled her tonsils and bent them back.

His tool was leaking pre-come at an almost alarming rate. The bittersweet oily fluid slid down her throat and she inhaled deeply, getting off on the smells of his body, just as he had enjoyed sucking up the heady scent of her pungent muff.

His crotch exuded a musty and sweaty aroma, piquant and intoxicating. Here was a man, she thought to herself, a man who would bring her out of herself, who would give her love and security and the pleasures of the flesh.

He made her feel more like a woman than anyone she had ever known and she slid her hands up along his wide-set thighs, moved them around and finally grabbed the tight muscular cheeks of his boyish ass, one in each hand.

She pulled him closer to her then, squeezing his buns, feeling the way they were hard and firm, silken as a result of the almost invisible gossamer down which grew over his rump. By this time, her cunt was leaking copiously and hot drools of sap trickled down along the insides of her shuddering thighs.

She could feel her sexual appetites flaring up and she wanted to jump up on him, wrap her legs around his waist and ass and let him slam his pecker right into her pussy, impaling her on his sword-like cock. Then, so she imagined at the moment, he would carry her around the room and she would feel the full length and thickness of his penis sliding in and out of her cooze, setting her passions on fire, milking her of every last ounce of erotic bliss.

She pulled her head back until just the plum-shaped glans was stuffed between her lips. Her tongue probed the slit of his piss-hole, tasting more pre-seminal fluid as he rocked back and forth, his jeans down around the tops of his cowboy boots and his body naked and shiny with sweat.

She looked up at him then and he was staring down at her with a grin across his thick sensual lips. The hard virile lines of his burly torso enticed her and she studied the definition of muscles that traversed his chest, pleased to see that he was the bear she had hoped he would be.