Pamela Cooper: Suck fest family

Marge Clay trembled as she held her husband's head and pushed his face deeper into the gaping hole of her cunt. Below, she could hear Bill as his breath panted out in ragged gasps.

The perfume from her cunt rose to fill his brain with its heady odor, and it only increased the hunger he always felt when sucking his wife's beautiful pussy.

Over and over, Marge felt the cum-slimedwhip that was Bill's tongue as it flipped and lashed across the sensitive flesh of her crotch.

He slid it back and forth from her asshole to the blood-filled lips of her cunt, drinking in the juices that poured from her weeping cunt.

"Oh yes, baby," Marge moaned. "Eat my pussy. Eat all of it!"

Then his attacking tongue leaped away to torture the erect nubbin of her clit. A shock that was almost too much to stand shot through Marge's guts as the enraged flesh of her clit pulsed from his tongue attack.

A small mewing noise rose from deep in the back of her throat, only to die away and fade into a soft sigh. With one hand she pulled at his hair, as if wanting to push his entire head deep into her pussy.

With the other hand, she tortured one of her own firm tits into a swollen fury. The nipple stood out, angry and thrusting. The other tit seemed in sympathy with its sister, in spite of being neglected.

Bill took Marge's clit between his teeth and began the most phenomenal tongue-lashing the woman had ever known. At the same time he pushed two fingers of his free hand into the creamy brown depths of her plunging asshole.

"Ooooooohh, honnnneeeeyyyyy," she moaned, thrashing against his two-pronged attack.

Fire seemed to fill her belly and Marge realized that no amount of control could stop the earthquake orgasm as it began to rollupward from her cunt and fill all the space of her body.

She wanted to make it last, wanted to prolong the feelings of joy that his tongue caused as it danced through her private wilds and then dipped far into the foaming hole of her cunt like a ladle that her husband was using to dip out the -sweet juices of her lust. But nothing could stop it now.

"Ohhhhhh, God yessss! Suck me, baby," she grunted into the air. "Suck me dry!"

And Bill seemed intent on doing just that. Wave after dreamy wave of her cum pouted from her gaping cunt. It washed between the pouting lips of her cunt and onto Bill's waiting tongue. His face gleamed with her fluids, and time after time his mouth filled with the essence!

Her convulsions finally subsiding, Marge looked down across the expanse of her still quivering belly to watch Bill's handsome face as he continued softly kissing and licking at the lips of her pussy.

Oh God, Marge thought to herself, I'm so lucky to have him. The odds against the two of us ever getting together were astronomical; but we did it.

Bill had been the best friend of Marge's late husband, Charlie. The two men had gone through the army together, and afterwards both had attended the same college. Marge had always been attracted to her husband's friend. His rugged good-looks, his ready wit,the way a smile would just seem to explode across his face over the least little thing. But there had never been any thought of cheating.

Charlie had been only an adequate lover. But he had given Marge a beautiful daughter, Debbie, and had provided his little family with a comfortable home and the security of a dedicated family man. And Marge had always considered herself a "one-man woman."

So it was that when Charlie had died of a heart attack, Marge's whole world seemed to have collapsed around her. The financial security for her daughter and herself had been assured with Charlie's insurance and pension plan at work. But Marge found herself feeling as if there was no purpose to her life, no one for whom she could plan and work.

A huge hole had opened in her world, and at first she felt as if she just wanted to fall into it and pull the covers up over her head. She missed having a man around to do for, a man to curl up against at night. And more and more often, she began to realize that she missed having a man to love her, to take her into his strong arms and carry her to the point where every woman realizes just how much of a woman she really is.

Then Bill had come along. He had been out of the country on business when Charlie died. Indeed, it had been over a month before he had heard the news. Then Marge had received a long, supportive letter and a promise that he would drop by to see her and her daughter assoon as he could.

It had been another six months before his work finally allowed Bill to return, to the states. After that, other parts of his business kept him tied up for a while. By the time he did manage to get the time to visit his old friend's widow, it had been nearly a year since the death of her husband.

By then Marge thought that she had managed to pull her life back together again. She had taken a job, more for the sake of something to do with herself than for the money that she didn't really need. She was doing some volunteer work in one of the hospitals, and had met several new friends.

But when she opened the door and saw Bill's smiling face, all the old fears and pain that she had thought were buried deep inside herself came pouring out.

For what seemed like hours Bill had held her close, running his fingers through her long red hair and allowing her to cry herself out without any interruptions.

Years earlier he had lost his first wife in an automobile accident. He knew how much pain there was, how much loss and loneliness. He also knew the hardship of trying to raise a child as a single parent. His son Randy was now almost grown and fairly well-adjusted, but those first few years after the teen's mom had died had been really rough ones. "Okay, lady," Bill had whispered after Marge's sobs had finally stopped, "you just sitthere for a couple of minutes. I'm going to go make us some coffee."

He smiled down at where she sat all teary eyed on the sofa. "I'll tell you what.. Why don't you go wash your face in some cold water otherwise you're going to have one hell of a headache before this is over. Crying is good for the soul, but too much can be a real bitch for migraines, By the time you've finished, I'll have the water hot."

With that, he had gone off to the kitchen.

Marge went to the bathroom and cleaned up, freshening her ruined makeup and pressing cold compresses to her eyes to make them stop burning.

It was then that she had remembered that the only coffee in the house was fresh ground, and Bill was notorious about not being able to handle anything other, than instant.

She had gone into the kitchen to give him a hand, but the coffee never got made.

As she ran into the kitchen, she bumped head-on into Bill and found herself standing with her arms around the man's waist and his around her shoulders. For a moment they just stood there laughing nervously, and then Bill leaned down and brushed her lips softly with his own.

Hesitantly at first, he kissed her. But the hunger that they both felt forced its way up through their bodies until they were both pressed tightly together, feeling close to another person for the first time in all too amany years.

Marge had felt the stirrings deep in her guts as Bill's strong hands roamed freely across her back and then down across the rounded hillocks of her tight ass.

"Oh, Bill," she had started to protest, but the man's tongue had cut her off short and plunged deep into her throat. The need and hunger had been too great. It had been too long since a man had taken her.

Bill's hands had moved to her tits, fondling and gently crushing them beneath her bra. Then one roving hand had slid downward to cup the full mound of her pussy with its heat, and Marge had down that she was completely helpless in the man's arms.