Heather Brown - Door to door wife

Then, as he was drilling his prick inside me, the idea occurred to me to actually count how many inches he really had protruding from his loins. That way, at least there'd be no doubt that one aspect of the questionnaire was filled out with 100% accuracy from first-hand experience.

I picked up his penetration at what I estimated to be three inches, and started toting the increments of descent from there.

"Three…" I began. "Four… five… six… seven… eight…"

Eight inches. The amount he'd believed was the full extent of his prick.

I looked down with overwhelming curiosity toward the intersection of my loins.

Silly boy, I thought, you've got at least two inches to go.

I'd been right. He had ten inches between the legs if he had a centimeter.

"Keep going!" I feverishly instructed. "I want to feel every bit of your big, thick cock inside my pussy. Let me feel your hot hairy balls squashing against my cunt lips…"

"Ooommmmppphh!" he grunted.

Another blessed inch of phallic meat engorged my spasming twat.

One more to go.

I'd die if I didn't get it!

"Ooommmmppphhh!" he grunted again.

The last inch was in. His entire cock was pumping within the squeezing confines of my hump-tunnel.

"Ooooh, ten inches!" I babbled his dimensions deliriously. "Ten gorgeous, fucking inches!"

"You're kidding…" he gasped with astonishment as he pumped away.

"I wouldn't kid about a thing like that," I assured him. "Looks like you've been selling yourself short for years, big boy."

"You don't know how good that makes me feel," he said gratefully.

And I felt just as good. His ecstasy at learning the true dimensions of his most valuable bodily organ was just further proof of how much good The S.E.X. Report could do. My role in helping a man become justifiably proud of his cock was one of the most immensely satisfying things in my life. I was so glad I'd volunteered for this vital research.

"Now that you know how big it is," I gnawed ferociously against his ear, "why don't you stop holding back and come in me with it? My cunt craves your hot, sticky jizz."

"Oh, baby, are you going to get it," he promised me. "I'm gonna drown your pussy."

"Don't tease me," I giggled.

"No way!" he declared, and then he let down the floodgates.

The sperm came surging from his prick like a dam had just broken between my legs. Cum poured over my vaginal tissues, lapping me with its unbelievable volume.

There was so much of it that all of a sudden my womb was awash with hot stickiness. My ovaries were glubbing as the tide rose.

Then, it seemed to penetrate even further from there, until it seemed to be filling the hollows of my breasts. If I'd tried to nurse an infant during the subsequent week, I'm certain the child would have drawn semen rather than milk.

All the while I was coming myself like the Fourth of July was being held inside my body. This year, rather than fireworks, the organizers of the event were using my senses.

Bang! Pop! Pow! Blam!

My consciousness was given over to a display of pyrotechnics that would have put a twenty-one-gun salute of atom-bomb blasts to shame.

And you know what?

It only made me want more!

"Pull out of my cunt and fuck me in the ass!" I frantically implored, never thinking for a second that he might not have it in him.

"Boy, will I!" he eagerly confirmed my faith in the tirelessness of his prick.

"Your wife won't let you?" I guessed at the source of his enthusiasm.

"Check," he punted as he yanked his pecker out of my primary fuck-pit, and dropped it down a notch to my optional one.

"I know how it is," I empathized.

"You mean your husband…"

"Just shut up and fuck me in the ass," I cut him off.

There was no way I could tell him the truth. That just a couple of weeks previously I had been a shrinking violet in the bedroom. As unresponsive as his wife in my own way. Not only wouldn't he believe it, but I was ashamed to admit it.

"Stick it in and cornhole me to the hilt!"

He did. Zowie, did he!

With one single, wonderfully brutal thrust he rocketed his hard-on all the way up my ass. All of a sudden his cock-head was battering the shit in my bowels into pieces.

Even though he had just ejaculated in my cunt, it was obviously only a matter of seconds before he repeated the feat in my ass. Nothing could have pleased me more.

"Do it!" I shrieked. "Fill my asshole with your cum. Shoot so much of it inside me that there's too much and it sprays all over my buns."

All of a sudden an interior splash reverberated to my soul. He was, coming… coming like a firehose.

Whatever shit was in my lower intestine was swamped by a torrent of cum that seemed to back up all the way to my stomach. Then, when my insides could accommodate no more, the spunk surged toward my anus. Before I knew it I had my previously stated wish, as his jism spurted with divine pressure from the perimeter of my cock-engorged bunghole.

My crack became coated with hot spunk, and then it started dribbling down toward my cunt. Even though my pussy was like a blotter, it still couldn't sop up all the overflow, and excess cream began saturating my thighs. By the time he was finishing spurting, my lower body was totally smeared with his scalding cum.

Theoretically we were fucking in a cold-storage locker. But in actuality the temperature was about a zillion degrees. We were both sweating like pigs, humping and bumping as he buggered me on the stack of haddock. The yore would be lucky if the heat from our bodies didn't spoil the fish despite the refrigeration.

Needless to say, when we were finally finished, he was so mellow that it wasn't the most difficult task in the world to get the answers to the remainder of the S.E.X. interview. By the time I walked out of the store with the fully completed questionnaire, I was positive I'd stumbled onto the most sure-fire interviewing technique in the history of scientific research.

"Frankly, Debbie," Jason told me one afternoon after I'd turned in my latest data, "you're work for us has been terrific. You seem to be able to compile input that even the most experienced and educated practitioners have difficulty with. In other words, you're a real pro."

I didn't know what to say… I'd never been more pleased by any compliment in my life.

"That is why," he continued, "I've had a little talk with the board of directors, and we've decided to put you, along with another of our outstanding volunteers, on salary."

"You mean I'll actually be working for you?" I gushed.

"Yes," he smiled that winning display of teeth of his.

"Will my duties remain the same?"

"No, considering your expertise, they'll be intensified. You and our other selection for professional staff status will be working together as a team on particularly significant and challenging respondents. That is why I want you to get acquainted with her as quickly as possible."

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Gloria Schaffer and she lives at…"

"But I already know her," I interrupted. "We've been friends for years."

"Perfect," he replied with obvious satisfaction. "I suppose we should have known that two women with such similar ability in the same area would be acquainted. You know the old saying… birds of a feather flock together."

"Then you want Gloria and I to get together and compare notes," I efficiently picked up the ball and ran with it, "before we start on our next assignment."

"Precisely," he said.

"Well, frankly," Gloria said over a drink at her house, "I'm willing to go all the way to get the right answers to the questions."

"So am I," I replied, wondering if her interpretation of such ultimate dedication to The S.E.X. Report was as comprehensive as mine. "Why don't we share techniques as they suggested at The Exchange?"