Lonnie felt like a lion. Clawing his way up Carmen's ass, he mounted her. His prick found what he wanted immediately – her asshole. Using all the strength and agility of his body, he forced his cock head between the sucking rings of her ass pucker, then lunged, driving all eight-plus inches of his cock up her asshole. His hard belly banged her round, upturned ass. His balls flogged her cunt. He was buried inside her ass to the tilt, his cock throbbing in the fluffy tightness of her asshole.
Carmen gasped. She cried out as if she had been stabbed. "Ohh, God, stud! I didn't know – uh, uh, awwww!"
Lonnie fucked her ass, his huge cock reaming her out like a high-speed piston. All he wanted now was to come, to fuck her as hard and fast as he could and then to blast her with his jism. Christ, he thought, I might blow my nuts right off! He'd never been this hot. The feelings needling through his prick had never been this intense. The sensations made him feel like Superman. He imagined himself fucking Carmen's ass to pieces. Then exploding into her like an atom bomb. His mind focused itself completely on his fucking. He became aware only of his spine working like a whip, of his loins slamming her ass, of his muscles swelling and contracting in a synchronized rhythm, of his prick fucking in and out of her ass like a flaming sword.
"Ohhhh, Lonnnnnnie!" Carmen wailed. "Ohhhh, God!" She panted and whined.
Lonnie felt his jism uncoil in his balls. Hot whips of cum zinged through the core of his long cock. He shivered from scalp to soles.
"Ahhhhhhhh! Awwwwwwww!" He roared out his pleasure like a lion. His jism rocketed into Carmen's asshole. He fell on her, biting her, clawing her, letting his hips jerk and shudder, letting his jism come and come and come.
Carmen whined louder than he had heard her whine yet. She quivered under him, squirming as if she was desperate to escape. Her ass shuddered rhythmically. Hot pussy juice ran from her cunt, and Lonnie's throbbing balls bathed and slipped in cuntjuice.
She's coming again for sure, Lonnie thought, and his jism exploded with such force that his head snapped back.
His orgasm seemed to go on for minutes. He thought he might have blacked out for when his orgasm was over he suddenly found himself lying beside Carmen, sucking at her tits like an infant. Her tits were tasty, the nipples bumpy and hard. He wanted to suck on them forever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The reddish light of early morning seemed to pulsate on the walls like the blood in Liz's temples, like the blood in her pussy. She hadn't slept much, and her waking moments had been less than satisfying. The night had been long, and Liz had felt a fever in her flesh during all of it.
Masturbation did nothing to cure that fever, the fuck-fever that she had contracted from Carmen like some kind of incurable disease. Rubbing cooled her pussy for perhaps a half hour, but then the fever would set in again with renewed intensity.
Carmen was to blame. Before Carmen had come along, Liz had been an average horny housewife. Stan would fuck her three times a week, and she would be fairly satisfied. Occasionally she would ask him for more, would need for him to fuck her every day for awhile, like in the early years of their marriage, but usually an every-other-day fuck with a little jerking off on the side would suffice well.
Now, having caught Carmen's disease, Liz was finding three fucks a day barely adequate – and jerking off was next to worthless.
The last four days had been especially frustrating. Stan was out of town on business, unavailable for Liz's bedtime fuck. And Carmen, the thoughtless bitch, had gone back to Chicago to close out the selling of her house there. Carmen had left without a word. Liz had called Carmen four mornings ago and Lester had informed her that Carmen had gone back to Chicago. Carmen's husband had invited Liz over for breakfast. He was anxious to meet Liz after Carmen had told him so much about her. I'll just bet, Liz thought.
Liz wondered what Lester was like. He had sounded friendly enough. She wondered whether he knew what Carmen was really like – that Carmen liked to fuck almost anyone she could, especially with teenage boys. She couldn't imagine the man knowing such a thing about his wife and accepting it. Perhaps Carmen sucked Lester so dry every day that he didn't have the strength to even get suspicious.
And what about Jade, Carmen's daughter? Jade was a duplicate of her mother physically, and she sounded a lot like Carmen when she talked. Except for the age-gap between them, and except for Jade's remarkable green eyes, mother and daughter could pass for twins. Being so alike, did mother and daughter have the same sexual needs? Was Jade a shameless nympho, and, if so, had she gotten her claws into Lonnie? Lonnie and Jade had been seeing quite a lot of each other, and Lonnie blushed like the sunset every time Liz asked him anything about Jade.
Liz couldn't quite imagine Lonnie fucking a girl. He was a shy teen. Liz couldn't imagine him becoming aggressive enough to fuck a girl. But then, Lonnie wouldn't necessarily have to become aggressive if Jade was aggressive. And if Jade was anything like her mother, then Jade had the aggressive drive of three grown women. Liz saw a vision of Lonnie lying naked and helpless in his bed while Jade hovered over him like a female vampire. Jade's nipples glinted like sharpened rubies. Her green eyes held the teen under, her spell. She swooped down on the teen.
Liz climbed out of bed, trying to put the vivid daydream out of her mind. She began to dress.
The daydream disturbed her because she saw herself in Jade. Ever since she had met Carmen a week ago, ever since Carmen had introduced her to the delicious tenderness and the musky heat of teenage boys, Liz had felt herself gaining in lustful strength, had imagined herself changing slowly into a vamp, a smiling dark lady whose sustenance was cum.
Like Carmen, like she imagined Jade to be, she too was becoming an aggressive nympho. The thought both delighted and disturbed her.
Even more disturbing to Liz than the realization of what she was becoming, and of the nature of her lustful desires in general, was the realization of where her lust was dragging her – closer and closer to Lonnie, closer and closer to the bed of her own son. She couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of her unspeakable lust for her son. She remembered having had an exquisite thrill at the moment Glen, had shot into her. "Oh, momma!" he had cried. She remembered how Tommy, the hippy teen she had sucked off in the park, had reminded her of Lonnie. And now, whenever she thought of the teens Carmen had picked up, the teens Carmen had shared with her, Liz would see them with Lonnie's face, with Lonnie's blond hair and blue eyes, and she would be filled with an insane lust for Lonnie, a lust she knew would torture her forever if she couldn't satisfy it, and a lust she knew she would never dare to satisfy. Cheating on Stan was bad, but she knew that he cheated on her. Sucking Carmen's pussy, fooling with teenage boys – those were worse but forgivable. The guilt she felt was minimal and temporary. But incest – going to bed with her own son and taking his cock inside her body – that was unforgivable. The thought of fucking her son made her tremble with a hopeless lust.
Liz walked down the hallway, passing the living room where this whole crazy dream had begun just over a week ago. The grandfather clock at the end of the hallway read seven-fifteen – still time for some of Lester's French toast. She slipped out the backdoor, her heart thumping. Maybe Lester would throw her across his kitchen table and fuck her while the forgotten French toast turned cold and stiff. With his nympho wife gone for four days now, Lester was likely going out of his mind. Liz wondered what he looked like. He must be well built, she thought, to have withstood the heated assaults of Carmen for the last fifteen years.