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John Kellerman: Sisters in heat

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John Kellerman Sisters in heat

Sisters in heat: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Sam's prick had swollen larger than before. It was stretching her lips, sliding against the roof of her mouth when he stabbed his hips forward. And when it jammed her throat full, the gagging spasms were not quite so intense now. She didn't like that part of it, but the panic was gone.

There was a cock in her mouth, a large, male cock. It was full of blood and hot and spongy. When she danced her tongue along the crown, the sensation excited her as much as it seemed to excite Sam. There was nothing in her experience anything close to it. That prick felt so different, so out of place there between her lips… and yet strangely comfortable too. But the fire between her legs was making it hard to concentrate on doing what Sam liked.

Her mouth went slack… her tongue lobed loosely against the pisshole at the tip of the glistening, domed glans. Sam grunted with pent-up lust, ramming his hips forward.

"Ohhhh," she gasped, straining to free her hands, trying to twist her mouth free.

She was spinning in space, her sweat-slick thighs clamping together, then bounding apart as the vibrator surged against her clit, trembled against the convulsed, aching muscles that held it deep against the mouth of her womb.

"Bite it… Goddamn you… bite it!"

Sam grasped her slender neck in a strangle hold. Marcia found the spongy tip and sank her teeth into it. A thin spurt of hot fluid filled her mouth. It was creamy slick with a slightly salty taste. She clamped down on the bursting, throbbing cock and a second flood of semen boiled out. It was thicker and even hotter than the first and it was too much to get down her throat.

Marcia whimpered and the sound of hot cum crackling in her nostrils made her feel faint. The vibrator was tearing her pussy apart… holding her on the razor's edge of release. She bucked and snapped her hips, trying to get rid of the tantalizing, ravenous rape of her cunt. Thick curds bubbled at the corners of her mouth as Sam pumped his cum-slickened cock deep into her throat and dragged it back again. In and out, deeper yet until she felt the spraying semen coating her tonsils and throat.

She gagged, this time from the gloppy strings of cum that shut off her breathing. Sam fondled her large tits, trying to get his fingers around both quivering swells. Her nipples were gouged by his rough fingers and she whined and bucked frantically, grinding her pelvis hard against his foot. Yes, he'd slipped his ankle up against her pussy, shoving the dildo even deeper into her body. And that was all it had taken.

The touch of her clit, the feel of her hot cunt-juice as it spilled out of her swollen, hot pussy. She was coming at last and the ache turned to glorious waves of pleasure. She cried out, gargling the cum in her throat, muffled by the fucking cock in her mouth.

"Eat me good, you bitch… eat me damned good… Ahhhh!"

She felt Sam jerk. He rammed his cock past the entrance of her throat, back further until his balls bumped warmly against her chin. She felt her gags caressing the hot, smooth glans, felt the thick, potent cream being milked into her belly.

She swallowed fast. That made it better. The wave of sickness disappeared. Her asscheeks were still quivering with the passing rush of ecstasy. Why had it lasted for such a short time? Oh why couldn't that go on forever?

Her eyes were closed when Sam pulled his cock slowly from her mouth. She was in a trance and felt the wilting hot meat sliding out from between her lips. She closed them around it, squeezing one last droplet of his jizz onto her tongue. Why had she done that? She'd always thought that eating a man's cum would be horrible.

She was losing her mind. Maybe she'd dreamed the whole thing.

Sam was untying her hands. Then his fingers parted the aching lips of her pussy and she felt the plastic vibrator being eased out. He snapped it off and tossed it on the bed beside her. Marcia kept her eyes closed, breathed in huge lungfuls of air. She was exhausted.

When Sam went into the bathroom, she sat up and stared around her. Then she heard the sound of the shower and Sam was standing in the doorway smiling at her.

"Come on. You can get freshened up before I take you over to the party."

Marcia smiled weakly, limped toward the bathroom. Sam hooked her close to him as she tried to pass by. His fingers went to her pussy and tickled her clit.

"You're my pussy now, baby. Ain't that right?"

Marcia felt too weak to protest. She looked down at her tits, down over her flat, young belly. She nodded slowly.

Sam forced her head back and covered her mouth with his. She felt him probe her cummy mouth with his tongue and then he gave her ass a sharp smack and went across the room to where a bottle of whiskey sat in amber illumination under a lamp.

His cock wasn't so big now. She was still staring at his prick when he turned with the glass in his hand.

"Next time you can have my cock in your cunt, Marcia. You oughta be fixed up with something by then, right?"

Again she nodded.

He smiled. She smiled. She went into the bathroom and tied her hair up in a towel and got quickly under the hot spray of the shower.

When she came out again, Sam was dressed. And there was a box from the most exclusive dress shop in town lying in the middle of the bed. Marcia couldn't hide the excitement in her face when she opened it. Another silk dress, but prettier, more expensive than the one Sam had ruined. There was a pair of panties too. Gold silk with a tasteful edging of lace. She smiled her thanks at Sam.

He jostled the ice in his glass and watched her put her feet into the panties and slide them up her long legs. Then the dress. He came over to tie it for her.

"How do you feel?"

"Kind of weak. Like I'm dreaming."

"Is it a good dream?"

"I didn't know about dreams like this before tonight," she said.

"I guess that's an honest enough answer. Let's go to the party. You look like a million dollars."

Marcia tasted cum under her tongue. She swallowed and swished her mouth around but the taste lingered, even after she was sitting in the leather softness of the Lincoln rushing across town to meet Sam's friends.

Robin wanted to tell her folks that she'd seen Steve, that he was okay, that he had enough to eat. But she didn't. Steve didn't want anyone to know where he was. But the real reason she kept everything to herself was her father. He would just try and pin her down, give her the third degree.

Ralph wanted Steve to go to college. It was a typical thing for a father to want. Robin couldn't blame her dad. But she couldn't blame Steve either for wanting to make his own decisions about something in his life.

So when her folks asked if she'd heard anything about Steve she told them that yes, she'd heard through the grapevine that they'd seen Steve around and that he was okay. That took it off her shoulders.

On Friday morning she awoke after a crazy, disturbing dream about Steve. She lay there under the sheets, thinking about the dream. Stevie and she had been swimming. And the water had made their swimming suits just kind of dissolve. She remembered being frantic, trying to hold together the strands of material. Then Steve and she were standing looking at each other. He had a big hard-on.

When Robin woke up, her panties were damp through the crotch and she felt odd and breathless. It was ten o'clock.

She swung her legs out of bed and padded into the kitchen. There was a note from her mom to eat breakfast and stay around the house. Her father had gone to work. Robin washed her face, brushed her teeth and looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Short, turned-up nose. Freckles. Red hair hanging in twisted strings from having been braided the day before. Well, maybe her breasts were growing a little. She cupped her hands under them, lifted the soft, quivery flesh. Sore as usual. And nothing like the fantastic-looking tits that perched on her older sister's chest.

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