Simon Jillson - Driven To Depravity

Her hips jerked and twisted, forward and back and side to side as she stirred the monster cock around in her guts. She blazed higher and higher, until, like a tidal wave, an orgasm engulfed her. She collapsed forward on McCarter, exhausted. She was dimly aware of the fact that he was still moving under her.

Then he pulled his hands from where they had been trapped between them, and gripped the cheeks of her ass. The feeling of the crack of her bottom being stretched and drawn apart sent Judy's lust soaring again.

Chill air struck her anus which was sticky and wet with her excess lubricant. She felt cock sliding in and out of her pussy and clung to the big body between her thighs.

McCarter used his grip on Judy's ass to move her in opposition to his thrusts. He was close to the fiery blasting of an ejaculation. The feel of her little body sliding and quivering against his was exquisite. Her vagina was tight and hot around his phallus. He could feel her copious juices on his thighs and his fingers.

Faster and faster and faster he humped under her, slamming his cock into her body. His pubic arch was crunching and rolling against hers at every thrust. Fire was pooling in his loins. He worked closer and closer and closer, and then he was there, the muscles deep inside him spasming and jerking. His body was bathed in fire as he poured his flood of cum into Judy's tight vagina. His entire body ached and he rammed his prick into her like he wanted it to come out her mouth. His fingers bruised her buttocks as he held her welded tight against him until the pulsing and pumping had died away to just a delicious memory.

Then he relaxed.

Judy's entire body went limp as her second cumming faded along with McCarter's. She felt totally exhausted. She felt his prick shrinking inside her, leaving her feeling vaguely empty in spite of the copious cum he was leaving behind.

"Oh, God," she sighed at last. "Jesus!" She climbed off him, the shrunken remnant of his prick slipping from her hole. Aching with exhaustion, she sat slumped on the edge of the bed. She felt the bed shift as McCarter got up. Finally she stirred herself and began to dress.

"Mrs. Penncroft?" Andrew McCarter began.

"What?" she asked curtly. She was disgusted with herself, and with him.

"You've got yourself a sale."

Judy was too tired and too beaten to feel triumphant. "Great."

"Provided, of course, I can get a mortgage," he added.

"There won't be any problem with it, will there?"

"Shouldn't be," he acknowledged. "Ready to go?"

"Ready." She glanced at the bed. There was a wet stain on the spread.

"Oh, shit," she muttered.

"Nothing we can do about it," McCarter pointed out.

"Let's get the wrinkles out, at least," she suggested. "Right now it looks like the mating ground of a herd of crocodiles."

McCarter quickly helped her get the covers straight.

"Maybe it will dry before they get home," he noted.

Judy brightened. "Maybe. He's not supposed to get back until tomorrow."

She carefully locked the front door behind her and replaced the key in its hiding place.

"I'll check on the mortgage as soon as I can," McCarter informed her as she drove him back to his office.

"I'd appreciate that."

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," he said as he got out. Then he leaned in the window. "I hope your husband gets better."

"Thanks to you," she replied, "he just may live."

"Don't thank me, I'm just buying a house. Would it make you feel better or worse if I told you I would have paid the price whether you'd gone to bed with me or not?"

Judy digested this slowly. "Is that true?"

"What do you think?"

She smiled at him. "You bastard. You really are a sadist, aren't you?"

"You should know," he said, laughing.

As she drove to the real estate office, Judy didn't know if she was disgusted with herself, or what. Lurking deep inside was a bright glowing spot of hope. The possibility of getting the kidney machine was greater than ever. She pulled up in front of the office, got out of the car, and went inside. There was a stack of telephone messages for her.

"Hey, Judy," one of the other agents called to her just as she finished her last call.

"What?"

"You heard anything about Steven Shein putting his place on the market?"

Judy froze. She felt the blood drain from her face and hoped it wasn't noticeable. "Really?"

The man shrugged. "I just heard rumbles that he was considering selling."

Judy shook her head. "I doubt it. Someone's been feeding you a line."

"Well it's worth three times what he paid for it. Maybe Shein needs cash?"

Judy snorted. "He needs cash like I need another you know what."

"Now that might be interesting." The man snickered.

"You don't have enough for the one I've got," Judy retorted, and was instantly sorry she had said it.

The man flinched. "Boy, where did you learn language like that?"

"I worked as a go-go dancer for a while, remember?" Judy said sweetly.

Her insides felt like jelly. "As for Shein, forget it. I heard the same rumor last week and I've talked to him already." She picked up her purse and noticed that her hand was shaking badly.

"How's Mark?" the man asked as she started for the door.

"Not good. See you Monday, maybe."

"Maybe."

Once in the car, Judy began shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly the rumor mill was grinding, and was threatening to reduce all her plans to nothing. She was going to have to move very quickly or it would all be over – she would lose her sale, her commissions, and her job. And that meant she would lose Mark as well.

Muttering a mixture of prayers and curses, she coaxed the engine to life and headed homeward. The blistering hot air coming through the hole in the firewall dried the cum on her panties and her thighs to a scratchy crust.

Judy dropped her keys wearily on the counter, and turned the burner on under the stale, left-over coffee. While she waited for the coffee to get hot, she stared blindly out the window. The sound of the coffee boiling roused her from her stupor. She poured a cup of the steaming, dark liquid, then lowered herself wearily onto a kitchen chair. Bracing her arms on the table, she sipped the hot coffee, then frowned, and put the cup down. After spooning in sugar and creamer, she tasted it again, and decided it was drinkable.

She didn't need a mirror to know her eyes were bloodshot. She could practically feel the bags and dark circles. She felt pure bone weary.

Last night had been one of the worst ever for Mark. Overdue for a treatment, he had writhed, tossed, turned and sweated all night.

Although they hadn't touched or even talked, neither of them had slept, and they both knew it. Judy had finally buried her face in her pillow, and smothered her misery in the bitter foam rubber smell.

Mark was at the hospital right now. Judy had driven him there – he had been sweating and shivering the whole way as cold chills wracked his tortured body.

Now, alone in the silent house, Judy sipped the bitter coffee and tried to get her mind working. She couldn't think of anything she had to do, but had the nagging feeling there was something she should be worrying about. Slowly she goaded her exhausted mind into action, and forced it to review the situation.

Which brought her straight to what she had done in the past few days. A sour knot of misery formed in her throat, making it hard to swallow.

Taking a grip on herself, she thrust that memory down. Her mind then went perversely to the parting exchange she had had at the office the day before. Her muscles slowly knotted with horror as she reviewed the conversation.

How had the rumor gotten started that Steven Shein was selling? She had called on him routinely, the same way she did all people in her territory who had lived in the same house for over a year and a half.