"Now fuck her!" Ron ordered the boy. "Fuck hard!"
Sally gasped. She'd felt good when Tommy's prick had entered her hot box. But it was just a little feeling. Her whole body was filled with the hot ache of Ron's stiff column up her ass.
And then Tommy drove his cock in hard, the way he always did, and Sally went out of her mind.
Her cunt was a wonderland of feeling. His pecker seemed to rise up her twat and strike the inside of her ass just right to ring Ron's dong like a chime. Her body resounded to the sudden feeling.
At the same time, the force of fucking her was enough to move her butt on Ron's hard stomach, sliding the impaling prick out an inch and Sally was so filled with pain/pleasure that she was breathless.
The boy rocked backward and forward, pounding his cock in her wildly sexual hole and rocking Sally on Ron's huge stick. And the faster he went the greater it felt until she thought she was nothing more than a disembodied asshole and twat joined by a tunnel in between that filled and flowed with sensation.
"Harder, harder, more, harder," Sally gasped after less than a dozen beautiful strokes. In and out, in and out. She slid back and forth on that wonderful cock in her butt and loved the pistoning of her son's littler penis in her twat, and she couldn't tell if it was day or night or an hour or a month.
Sally was flying on sex. She was higher than a heroin addict. She arched her back and helped that wonderful flesh stick jab up her asshole. When Tommy bent forward and sucked her nipple she orgasmed and then orgasmed again and again.
She was full of sex. She was stuffed to bursting and when finally Ron and Tommy came, the two floods of hot sex cream running in from both holes seemed to meet in the middle and create a vortex that snatched her into oblivion.
Later Sally remembered waking and seeing her boys doing things with the little girls, and seeing that man doing things to his daughters. It was like a scene out of hell, the logs in the fireplace roaring with elongated flames that appeared to be snapping and lashing out at her.
Then she went to sleep again and the second time she woke, it was night and dark and there were only embers in the fireplace and the boys slept huddled up against her and she imagined it was only a dream. Only her cunt and asshole protested terribly when she moved.
After she went back to bed from the bathroom, she had to get up again and make sure the door was securely locked and bolted before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By mid-morning, Hal was up at the cabin. He ran around looking things over and, after finding out that everything had gone fine since they got there (Sally lied to him about what had happened) he happily began checking the place out. One of his favorite expressions was: "Once a real estate salesman, always a real estate salesman!"
When he came in after a couple of hours of scrambling over the building checking for termites and leaks and loose boards of roofing, Sally looked at him and realized that he wore his toneless skin with its loose layer of fat like a baggy suit.
"Guess what, hon?" he asked cheerily when he came in for lunch.
"What?" Sally asked automatically.
"The place is sound as a dollar. Sounder. Listen, I've got this guy who wants a place like this and I think I can turn a quick five grand profit, maybe five and a half. What do you say?"
"If you want to, Hal. This place is getting awfully crowded. There are always people around." Sally tried to disguise her lack of enthusiasm with a lack of real estate knowledge. She knew she'd never come up to the cabin again. Not now, after Ron Thatcher knew about it.
Sally didn't delude herself that she loved Hal. But there were worse things that a girl her age could be doing than staying married to an eager, successful real estate man. Ron Thatcher might have been spectacular in bed, but there was no love lost between them.
At first, Sally had tried to delude herself into thinking that there was something, a spark of some sort glowing between them. But there was no way. Thatcher had been after her ass and fun and games. After he got them, that was the end. He might be back, sniffing, but not for any of those girlish, romantic reasons she often dreamed up.
She ached all over and was glad Hal wasn't romantic. At least he was considerate and that counted for a lot under certain circumstances.
One of the times Hal breezed in, Sally couldn't resist saying, "I feel like fucking, Hal!"
"Later, baby. The kids are all running underfoot. Later."
Later they packed up the kids and got everything into their two cars that was personal. "I'll have it sold by next weekend," Hal boasted to John and Tommy while he supervised the loading.
"Aw, Dad," Tommy said, wrinkling his face in disgust.
"We like it here," John said hastily, before his father could ask Tommy any questions about his face or tone of voice.
"I know," Hal said, "But I'll have another place in a month. I promise you, even better than this one."
"Well, Dad, this place is like special personal to us."
Hal gave John a conspiratorial wink. "Listen, son. It's about time that you were old enough to know that no place is special without a little special pussy. Houses come and go, and you can't hang onto them. They're just a way to make money. The only thing that counts is a good cunt for dipping your wick." Hal had his arm around his son's shoulders. "That's something to hang onto."
"Isn't Mom a good cunt, Dad? Isn't she worth hanging onto?"
Hal laughed nervously. "Sure she is, son. But your old dad is a stud. He's got to get around and spread his wild oats. I was hoping by now you'd understand. I love your mother and want to keep her forever, and by God I will, but she just doesn't have it. I mean," and Hal seemed to stumble a little, "a hot ass she just isn't."
"How do you know?"
"How do I know?" Hal laughed and tightened his grip around his son's shoulders. "John, I can see there's a lot I'd better get down to teaching you, the sooner the better. Jesus, son, don't you know any girls to fuck with?"
"I suppose I do, Dad." And John smiled at Hal…
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
At home that night, Hal turned over in his mind what John had said to him and he realized that he was neglecting Sally a bit. If she weren't so cold, he figured, she'd probably be hurting for a little cock.
Sliding into bed behind her, he rubbed his penis against her nice, soft butt and hinted at what he meant by squeezing her breast. Sally had been half-asleep and she moaned and rolled over quickly, wakening with the thought in mind that it was Ron or Jason or even one of the kids. Seeing her husband was sort of a disappointment.
"What do you want?" she asked coldly. Lately she was always cold to Hal in bed – and he didn't seem to mind so it worked out all right.
"Hey, baby, this is your husband." He smiled. "How about a little ass to put me to sleep. You know, rock me to sleep." He laughed hoarsely.
Sally sighed and pulled her nightgown up to her waist and shoved her panties off into the bed. "Okay, lover?" she asked.
"O-Kay," Hal answered. He grinned and got into the saddle, enjoying the way her thighs gripped his waist so firmly and the fine fit of his cock sliding into her moist, warm cunt. It went so smooth it seemed to Hal like Sally had greased her slot.
"I'm sorry about selling the cabin," Hal said as he pushed his pecker in to the balls. "I guess this means you won't have any place to go for any more lost weekends – at least for a while."
"Shut up and fuck," Sally responded. Her arms dragged at his neck and pulled her husband's lips down on hers. Eagerly her tongue went in his mouth and darted around.
Hal was so surprised, he didn't even suck his wife's tongue while it was there. But he did allow her to suck his tongue into her mouth. And then he was banging his cock in and out of her sex hole and he didn't pay much attention to anything she did.