Chapter 47Content: MF ir M-dom sm
Candace had an unaccustomed busy day; it seemed like every time she turned around, some inspector or another was there to look at the new bathroom. For their part, the inspectors were pretty much of the opinion that ol' Fred Carter had stumbled onto a sweet deal, given that the babe in the bikini was the homeowner...
By three o'clock, she was cranky. "How many more people are going to come pounding on my door wanting to see the bathroom?" she snarled at Damian over the phone.
"How many have been there so far?"
"That's it, then," Damian replied.
"None of them appear to have wives, from the way they ogle a woman in a bathing suit!" Candace snapped.
"Put on decent clothes if you don't want guys undressing you with their eyes!" Damian retorted. "You show up at the door half naked and expect guys not to look? Fuck!"
"Well, nothing! Maybe I ought to invite 'em all over for a fuck! I bet they'd show, now!"
"Don't get snippy with me, then! You know what happens when you do that shit!"
"Okay, okay!" Candace came back more gently. "They're all done?"
"Yeah. I'll call Pa -- he wants to be down there banging around all day tomorrow. Be careful with him or you WILL get fucked!" Damian chuckled and hung up.
Damian called Fred at work, then settled back to think. Who could he put out there for his father and Rico on Saturday? Trish? Alyssa? Sonya again? On a hunch, he called Toby. "Hey, Man, I need to put some pussy on the ground for Pa and his bud on Saturday -- any ideas?"
"Gee, I don't know. Randy and Hank are up to something -- why don't you check with them?" Toby countered.
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Another one of Alyssa's girlfriends stuck her foot in the trap..."
"Cool. I'll call Rain Man." Damian hung up and dialed the Hayes residence.
Brie brought Randy the phone. "Yo."
"Hey, I need to put some cooze in the playroom tomorrow for Pa and his bud. They'll be working all day, trying to finish up over there."
"Yeah? How many? One? Two?" Randy asked.
"Well, we kicked ass with them thus far, but it's a Saturday, you know? I dunno what we can really expect..."
"Who do we not want down there?" Randy asked.
"Candace, Mama, probably Jean, Sally, Teela, your mama, Alyssa... You still shitting on Trish?"
"Well, she's done the duty."
"So has Sonya and Jiang Yi and Beth. What's left?"
"Hart?" Damian grimaced. "Bitch is fugly -- not to mention dumb as a box of rocks."
"Well, that may be all true, but she's also a stone slut. AND she's a helluva fuck!" Randy declared. "Not to mention the fact that I figure we could get her basically all day... Hang on a sec." Tabitha, still naked, was head down, using rug cleaner to remove the spot she'd made on the rug. "Tab! Come here a minute!"
Tabitha crawled over. "Yes, Randy?"
"Can you get out tomorrow?"
"Probably. Momma likes to entertain on the weekend... She'd probably like it if I wasn't around."
"Okay, then. Pack an overnight bag and come over here tomorrow about, oh, nine o'clock. Tell your momma you'll be back Sunday. I'm gonna take you someplace to do some stuff for us," Randy told her.
"What should I wear?"
"Old clothes -- stuff you can get dirty in. But bring a swimsuit and whatever you want to wear overnight -- and plan to go naked." Randy grinned.
Randy chuckled into the phone. "You get all that?"
"Well, yeah..." Damian was dubious.
"I'll bring her over. Just give her to them. It'll fly, Man, trust me." Randy assured him.
"Well, okay. What about backup?" Damian wondered.
"Jeez, I dunno. Trish and her old lady?" Randy grunted.
"Fuck, I dunno. Maybe." Damian shook his head. As many chicks as they had on tap, tossing over half of them to Pa wasn't happening... Awright, so, nine-thirty or so? Can you get her there?"
"Yeah, no sweat. See you there!" Randy hung up.
Tabitha was still there on her hands and knees, watching him with her head cocked -- sort of like a dog... "Go home and soak your pussy, Tab -- you're gonna need it tomorrow."
"I'm not done with the spot..."
"Finish that first, then."
"Thank you, Randy."
"Thank me afterward. There's no telling how this is going to go over." Randy couldn't resist reaching out to caress her cheek. "Oh, while we're at it -- look, you can't tell ANYBODY about what you're doing for us, understand? None of it -- no fucking, no sucking, no nothing. Think about it -- if you do, they'll probably trick you and find out the other stuff and you'll end up in Juvie. Tell your momma -- Hell, I dunno -- can you tell her you have a boyfriend?"
Tabitha thought about it. "I'm not sure -- do I?"
"A half-dozen, probably -- maybe more -- but don't tell her that -- she'll get all jealous." Randy grinned and Tabitha grinned back.
"Tell her you and your girlfriends started a club," Hank suggested. "That'll probably work. Questions go to Alyssa."
"Hurry up and finish and head on home, then," Randy told her. "Make sure you're over here by nine."
"Yes, Randy." Head down, Tabitha resumed spot cleaning.
"So, are you gong to climb back on the horse?" Martin asked Jean. They were hanging out on the edge of the pool, relaxing after some hard-fought sets of tennis.
"What?" Jean looked confused.
"You know -- another partner."
"I suppose." Jean eyed Martin, "What about you? When are you going to chase down another partner?"
"Soon, I think," Martin replied. "I have to keep up."
"You certainly do! I'm not doing this myself!"
Martin snorted laughter. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, what good does it do me to wander around hunting strange men if you're just going to sit at home and wait for me to come back?" Jean prodded.
"Is that what I'm doing?" Martin retorted.
"It looks like it to me!"
"That would seem to defeat the purpose of the exercise," Martin agreed. "Very well -- I'll ensure that I make some arrangement or another over the weekend. You be sure to continue your own pursuits, as I may catch up and try to break into the open ahead of you!"
"Heaven forbid!" Jean chuckled. "Shall we do a few laps?" She struck out for the far end of the pool, leaving Martin grinning. He never did quite catch up.
Hank was lounging around looking self-satisfied when Martin and Jean returned to Martin's house. Jean didn't hang around; something told her it was best that she stay away from Hank. In the first place, she wanted to avoid young guys --and in the second, having sex with Hank would complicate her relationship with Martin.
Her relationship with Martin. She had one -- and it wasn't just sex. What did THAT mean? They were friends -- well, acquaintances, anyway, edging toward being friends. They had a sexual relationship, too -- but that was different, wasn't it? 'I'm thinking too much,' Jean sighed to herself as she drove away.
"So, did you accomplish what you set out to do?" Martin asked Hank.
"Yeah," Hank agreed, watching his father.
"And did you hurt anyone?"
"No," Hank grinned. "I made someone's dreams come true."
"Oh?" Martin was confused.
"Some girls really want to have sex -- really bad, it turns out."
"Well, I guess that makes sense," Martin mused. "I hope she isn't moving on to wanting a relationship..."
"If she does, it'll probably be with Randy, not me," Hank replied.
Martin nodded. "I was thinking about looking around a bit myself."
"I thought you and Mrs. Flanders..."
"We've... painted ourselves into a corner," Martin related. "Each of us is supposed to be out comparison shopping."
"Sex partners. Jean -- well, you know about Toby, right?"
"I know they've been together. I hear she's pregnant," Hank confirmed.
"She was happy with him, but..."
"Things have changed."
"Yeah." Martin was silent for a bit. "Neither of us want things to change again AFTER we enter into a committed relationship, so..."
"You both need to fool around a little?"
"Exactly. I should probably get a move on -- she's out ahead of me."
"Well, what do you want?" Hank asked. "Does color matter? If you're just having sex?"
Across town, a similar question was being asked. "Okay, so Mom and you didn't hit it off," Rick shrugged. "That's probably not surprising. Try something else."
"Like what?" Frank Pendergast grunted.
"Well, in the group, there's Lon's mom and Toby's -- neither of them is anything like Ma, but I'm not sure they're for you. Hey, have you ever had sex with a black woman? We've got two or three out there..."
"I'd probably say sumpthin' fucked up and get my ass kicked," Poppa Frank grinned.
"Hey, you're not taking them to dinner," Rick replied. "I'll call around and get you something. You go up to her house and cut loose a little and come on home. No big deal."
"C'mon, it's Friday night," Rick cajoled, flicking a glance at Teela. "We've got plans."
"Awright." The big reason that Frank said yes was that nothing makes you want sex like getting sex; his run-in with Jean had whetted his appetite. He was more horny now than he had been forty-eight hours before, and the idea of suffering through another evening of listening to Teela's happy wails didn't appeal at all...
"Rain Man, it's Rick."
"Do we have anything available for an old guy?"
Randy blinked. "How old."
"Oh, your mom's age."
"Oh. Shit, that ain't old..."
"True, true," Rick agreed. "Look, Teela's old man needs a shot, you know?"
"Oh, hey, in the group then, right?"
"Yeah. His dues are paid up," Rick agreed.
"He's white..." Randy mused.
"Is that a problem?"
"I'm just thinkin'."
"What about your mom?"
"What about yours?" Randy retorted.
"He's done her. No chemistry."
That set Randy back. "Is he any good?"
"No telling. What I got was that they just couldn't get along -- the sex was okay, but nothing super. I think it was attitude, though," Rick related.
"Well, there's Mama or Trish's old lady -- but I think we've got her on standby for the construction crew tomorrow." Randy thought about it. "Hang on." Covering the mouthpiece, he yelled, "Alyssa!"
"Yeah?" Alyssa tended to be prompt in her responses, lately -- if she wasn't, she knew she would have to deal with Damian.
"Is tonight a good night to set Mama up?"
Alyssa thought about it, then grinned. "Probably. She used to fuck Dirk on Friday nights."
Several things fell into place for Randy. "No shit?"
"Okay, what if it's a white dude? Her age?"
Alyssa folded her arms across her chest and looked grouchy. "Why does she get a choice?"
"Good point," Randy nodded. "Send him over -- we'll feed him to Mama."
"Sounds good," Rick agreed. "When?"
"Yeah." Rick hung up.
Ten minutes later, Randy was talking to Hank. "Jeez, what am I? Super-pimp? Mama's tied up. Trish's old lady is on standby for the construction crew at the clubhouse tomorrow -- but she doesn't know it yet."
"Tab is gonna handle that," Hank replied.
"YOU know that, and I know that, but Damian and Terence and his old man and that other guy don't yet. What about Beth? Or Terence's mama? Or Lon's?"
"I'll call around."
A call to Terence got Louise at the hospital. "I'd be happy to, but Fred will be home," Louise sighed. "Ask him to leave a spot on his dance card for me, though. Beth..." Louise gazed at her friend and Robert in conversation at the other end of the counter. "Beth and the doctor have the playroom reserved for tonight, I hear -- although you know how Beth is..."
"Well, no, not really..." Hank muttered.
"She would probably be just as happy taking on two..."
"Oh." Hank scratched his head. "I think Dad is looking for a solo."
"Got her number?" Louise did.
"Candace? It's Hank."
"Oh, hi, Honey. What's up?"
"Are you busy tonight?"
"Well, no..." She'd been thinking about going out -- again -- to look for something that might compete with her current primary lover. "Why?"
"Think you might like some company?"
"You? Don't you have your eye on anything young, yet? You really ought to try Sonya, Honey..." Another kid wouldn't break her of her current fascination with teenage studs.
"I was thinking my dad..."
"Oh?" Candace came up short. "Coach?"
"I... might be able to make a spot in my busy schedule..." Candace teased. "Does he know, or are you just checking?"
"No, he's looking..."
"Can we go to dinner somewhere first? Nothing fancy..."
"Son?" Martin looked up.
"It's Candace -- Lon's mom. You need to negotiate from here -- she's looking for a date." Hank handed him the phone.
"Call me Martin. What were you interested in?"
"Dinner -- nothing fancy, I just hate to cook. Then we could come back, and..."
"Sounds good. What would you like to eat?" Martin asked.
"I don't care. Italian? Steak?"
"Not Italian." Martin was pizzaed-out. A light flashed. "Japanese Steak House?"
"Oh, very nice, Honey, very nice!"
"I'll come by at seven?"
"I'll be ready!"
Martin hung up. Hank snickered. "Gee, THAT was hard..."
The Carter boys were both at home for the first time in several days. Fred was in the living room, watching TV and generally acting mellow -- and Louise was steaming. "Boys, you're letting your old man live too high on the hog, and I'm not happy!"
"He's workin'," Terence replied, "HARD! What do you want?"
"What are you going to do when he's done with his little project? Keep him on the group dole forever?" Louise groused.
"Now, Mama..." Damian placated.
"When he gets more pussy than I get dick, you can expect fireworks, Boy! That isn't how it's supposed to work!"
Damian shrugged. "Get more dick."
"Where? Ain't nobody lining it up for me, pimping me off..." Louise ranted.
"Pa's riding high right now," Damian pointed out, "but Lon and Toby are planning something to rub his nose in it, I think. Hang on -- your time is coming."
"I want a piece of him! You understand? Before he hits the street and hangs us all out to dry!" Louise hissed.
Terence flicked a glance at Damian. "Remember that thing you said Toby mentioned the other day?"
"Yeah." Damian went poker-faced. "Been thinking about that some."
"What?" Louise demanded.
"Well, you know Pa is working on the project with his old bud Rico Gambrelli..." Damian murmured.
Louise didn't need to be drawn a picture. "You don't know where Rico's been."
"Yes, we do," Damian replied. "He went out and got a full STD workup before he did Sonya last night. He's clean. From watching him, I'd say he's a good fuck, too."
"When?" Louise asked, leaning forward intently.
"Let's wait until they're done."
Louise grimaced. "Okay." But she was sunny for the rest of the evening.
Adele got home a bit after eight. "Go get a bath, Mama," Randy told her, "You're entertaining in about forty-five minutes."
"Entertaining?" Adele was caught flat-footed.
"Yeah, entertaining." Alyssa's face was hard. "That's nice talk for spreading your legs when you're told -- like I do."
Adele opened her mouth, shut it, turned, and headed upstairs. Randy eyed Alyssa. "You didn't have to do that."
"She'd have argued, if you'd been nice about it," Alyssa replied. "Besides, if it's good enough for me, it's good enough for Mama. She's no better than I am." Randy couldn't argue.
Adele got no chance for open commentary; Frank Pendergast was sitting there, fidgeting in the living room when she came back downstairs. Adele blinked. "Hello..."
"Uh, hi." Frank was clearly nervous. "Surprised?"
"Well, not that much -- I was told you were coming," Adele covered herself. "I'm not quite ready -- I just got home a bit ago. Just give me a moment, will you?"
Adele backed into the kitchen. Randy and Alyssa followed, figuring something was up. "A white guy?" Adele queried. "You didn't tell me that!"
Alyssa was all over her mother like a duck on a june bug, "What? You've got standards? I'm not allowed any! Know how many white guys I've fucked? Besides, wanna bet HE has standards, too?"
"She's right, Mama. In the first place, the dude is scared shitless, probably; in the second, he's Teela's old man -- that makes him a member, and you're to be nice to him! Rick's old lady put out for him and if she can, you damned sure can!" Randy insisted.
"He's kinda scrawny..." Adele ventured.
"So? So is Hank. Nobody Hank has fucked has ever bitched..." The argument stopped there because there was a ruckus in the living room. Everyone boiled out to find Brie basically blocking Frank's path.
"What's going on?" Randy asked.
"I don't figure I'm really wanted here," Frank replied. "I figured I'd hit the door, but she come along and said I shouldn't." He pointed at Brie.
"She's right. You're invited," Randy replied.
"Yeah, well..." Frank flicked a glance at Adele.
"We didn't tell Mama you was white," Randy amplified.
"It doesn't matter," Randy added.
"It don't? You're sure?" Frank eyed him. "Kinda matters to me -- not sumpthin' I done before. Mebbe it's the same fer her." He shifted his eyes to Adele.
"It shouldn't be," Randy insisted. "She's had white guys -- haven't you, Mama?" His eyes challenged her.
"Yes, I have," Adele admitted. "I'm sorry -- I was just surprised."
"This isn't hospitality," Randy growled. "Frank, all three of these women are group members. If Mama is feeling snooty, then Alyssa might not -- and I'll have a helluva time keeping Brie off of you, anyway!"
"What?" Frank's surprised gaze swung to Brie. "Ain't you a bit young to be dancin' on a dick? Uh, sorry -- my mouth got away from me..."
Brie stood her ground. "They don't let me do that, but I like cum -- and if you're a group member, then I get yours, too!"
"You s--..." Frank stopped himself and flicked another embarrassed glance at Adele. "I mean..."
Alyssa let him off the hook. "If you're a group member, and you walk through that door, Brie figures you owe her a blowjob. We don't make her do it -- it's all the other way around. I can't keep her off my boyfriend!"
"Uh... huh..." Frank ran his hand through his thinning hair. He was feeling really shaky...
Adele stepped up and took Frank's hand. "C'mon, Baby. I'm sorry -- this hasn't gone right and you haven't been treated right and I apologize. It isn't as if I didn't WANT any -- I was just acting the fool..."
"You don't hafta..." Frank muttered.
"I like to have a little on Friday nights," Adele said gently. "Don't you?" She tugged his hand and Frank succumbed to the male Achilles Heel -- you DON'T turn down a willing woman! He allowed himself to be led up the stairs.
Dinner had been pleasant; Candace was intelligent, personable -- and opinionated and high-maintenance, but it was a nice-looking package, as far as Martin was concerned. Martin was witty and urbane -- much more sophisticated than Candace expected from a football coach. The food was marvelous and they were relatively easy with one another. Lon was gone for the evening -- at Sally's, maybe overnight -- so they had the house to themselves on their return. "Want to go down to the playroom? It's more or less suited for what we're planning. I can get us a bottle of wine and we can watch a little porn..." Candace proposed. She knew that Coach -- Martin -- had been somewhat out of it lately -- maybe he needed a jump-start...
"I probably don't need porn in the presence of a woman as good-looking as you," Martin replied, "but it's nice to know that you're tolerant of such things -- and it IS entertainment..."
"Fine..." They'd settled in and begun discovering each others bodies, their bravery and their ardor amplified by watching the antics of a blonde and two men when suddenly the doorbell rang. "What on Earth?" Candace rasped, irritated. "Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them." She adjusted her blouse to cover her undone bra and headed upstairs.
It was Beth -- and Robert Rankin. "Hi, Candace. Can we use the playroom? Robert wants to try his hand at a few things..." Beth took in Candace's somewhat disheveled appearance.
"I'm... entertaining right now," Candace replied, clearly irritated.
"Oh? Who? If you don't mind..." Beth asked.
"Okay, we'll run along. Sorry! It's just that so much of my stuff -- and the pillory..." Beth apologized.
Candace grimaced. That put a different spin on things. Beth and Robert wanted to play BDSM games -- and there WAS nowhere else... She stepped back. "Come on in. If Martin is hampered by what you two are doing, we can always go upstairs to my room."
Martin had put himself together by the time they made it downstairs. "I should be going..."
"Absolutely not!" Beth retorted. "We're here for basically the same thing -- can't we coexist? That will add a little spice, don't you think?" She introduced herself and Robert. "You two go on with what you were doing -- we're going to be over there... You won't disturb us -- in fact, an audience adds a little something for me..."
"Really?" Martin asked. "What will you be doing?"
"Well, we don't know how far Robert can carry it," Beth replied, "but the basic plan is that he will beat me then fuck me."
Martin's eyebrows went up. "No kidding?"
"No kidding. I'm a submissive -- and I haven't had it in a long time..." Beth confirmed.
Martin turned to Candace. "I'd like to watch."
Candace was philosophical about it. "Live entertainment is better than the canned stuff," she replied. "Let's get some chairs while they set up."
Beth laid everything for the scene out, discussing it all with Robert as she did it. "Okay, we'll use this quirt and this paddle -- that should be plenty," she said. "Now, Sweetie, it's your first time and my first in a long time, so we should have a safe word. If things go too far, I'll say 'Bombay' -- okay? If I say 'Bombay', then you should stop what you're doing right away and try to find out what is wrong. But if I don't say it, you're not hurting me and you shouldn't worry, understand? If I don't say that word, everything is fine, no matter if I scream and yell or cry or whatever -- if I don't say that word, you can continue." She led him to the pillory. "We'll put my hands in the holes but leave my head out. If we get to the place I want to get to, you may be able to turn me around and work on the front side, but for now, we'll start on my ass and back. Start easy, and work up slowly -- if you go too fast, I'll not be able to hold things together, but if you go slow and work up the intensity, sooner or later I'll be taking whatever you dish out. You'll be able to tell, and we have the word, anyway. Okay?"
"Okay," Robert replied uncertainly.
"If we don't get there tonight, but it doesn't bother you, we can always go further another time," Beth told him, "but if you can handle it, keep going. It's about endorphins, Sweetie, okay? You know what those are." She allowed him to fasten her to the pillory, and the session began.
Robert started with the paddle -- a basic, ping-pong paddle without modifications of any type. He was nervous and diffident at first, but Beth encouraged him quietly and soon he became somewhat fascinated with the effect of the paddle on her ass -- the flow of the shock wave rippling through her buttocks. He took it slow, as Beth had instructed him before the start of the session, pausing several seconds between strikes. As his confidence grew, he applied more and more force; Beth made noises in response to the pain inflicted, but avoided the use of the safe word and did not seem to be unduly distressed.
Beth's ass was cherry red when Robert announced, "I'm switching to the quirt, now." She nodded, but otherwise said nothing. She was sniffling and her cheeks were wet, but once again apparently in no serious difficulty. The first slashing blow from the quirt brought an "Uuh!" from her, but she deliberately turned her head to look at Robert, knowing he would be concerned, and nodded her head.
Candace sat wincing at every blow; Martin controlled it better, but he was amazed. After a few strokes with the quirt, Beth's thighs began to shake; Martin whispered, "Has she wet herself?"
"I don't think so," Robert replied, and stepping up behind her, rubbed three fingers along her pudenda. Beth wailed and thrashed -- and everyone present recognized an orgasm. Robert smelled his fingers and announced, "No, it's her juice..."
The revelation released Robert from his earlier concerns; confident, he continued to slowly ramp up the intensity of his strokes, stopping every ten to fifteen to touch Beth's vagina. She was there, in sub-space; every such contact elicited an orgasmic response.
Candace found herself becoming excited despite her dismay at the punishment itself; her hand crept to Martin's lap and discovered an erection. Moments after she broke that barrier, Martin's hand enveloped her left breast.
Robert croaked through a dry throat, "I'm going to turn her around." He released her, and more or less supporting her, refastened her to the device facing him, her arms running under the bars to reach the holes for her wrists.
He knew what she wanted -- they'd discussed it -- but that first stroke across her breasts was difficult to execute. The scream it elicited made it worse, until he realized that she was in orgasm. He waited until her head dropped and struck her again. And again. And yet again.
Ten strokes was all he could bring himself to deliver; at that point, he put the quirt down and released her from the pillory. Not surprisingly, Beth collapsed in his arms; Martin got up to help him place her on a mattress, where Robert joined her, holding her close.
Martin and Candace went back to the couch and the porn video, granting them a modicum of privacy. Both found that they were aroused to the point that clothing was a hindrance; in less than ten minutes, Candace was riding Martin's erection, bouncing on his lap on the couch.
The real surprise came as they wound down and Martin poured ejaculate into Candace's vagina. When she stopped and settled against him, having managed two orgasms, and the pair of them caught their breath, they became aware of noises of sexual congress that were NOT coming from the television! Robert was pounding into Beth from the missionary position, and she was purring and spurring him to further effort, wailing, "Fuck me, Sweetie! Oh, God! You have no idea what you've done for me! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Clearly, Beth was beside herself. Candace shook her head. "After what he just did to her, I wouldn't be able to move -- and I DAMN sure wouldn't want him fucking me!"
Martin nodded. "I'd heard of such things, but had never seen anything like it."
"Well, I get a little juicy if you spank me -- but it HURTS, you know? Something like that is just beyond me," Candace muttered. "Let's go upstairs and leave them to... that..." She took Martin's hand and led him upstairs. Her bedroom would do fine for Round Two.
It worked for Round Three, too.
Frank Pendergast was utterly relaxed and utterly drained -- for the first time in a LOOOONG time! Adele Hayes was a big woman -- with a big ass, and big hooters, and big thighs, and a little fat on her, here and there -- but she had big needs, too, and once they got past the color thing and being strangers and other embarrassments, he found out about her big, soft lips and how a woman with the proper padding could provide a big, soft ride.
Adele was soft; Frank learned that almost as soon as they entered Adele's darkened bedroom. She pulled him against her, saying, "Come here, baby, let me feel you." The woman was as tall as he was and definitely outweighed him, but he didn't feel threatened -- and he quickly discovered a pair of big, soft lips.
Adele was pleasantly surprised, too; Frank was kind of small, but you could feel his muscles, even if you couldn't see them very well. He was ALL muscle, as far as she could tell, and that was a lot more pleasant than some of her more recent older male partners.
The pair of them got undressed in the light of a rather dim lamp, each worried about his or her various shortcomings, both perceived and actual -- but when Frank stretched himself out atop her and started kissing her neck and worrying her big nipples while working a thigh between hers, Adele forgot all about much of anything but what he was doing to her.
Adele was fully receptive in very little time; she'd gotten more foreplay from Frank than she was used to. But Frank decided that it might be nice to get closely acquainted with the big clit his fingers found between her puffy pussy lips, so he scooted down to attack it and the shocking pink opening below it with his lips and tongue.
"Baby, you don't have to... OH MY GAAAWWWDDD!!!" Adele wailed, and she pinned his face to her with both hands while he wrung an orgasm out of her. "Oh, Baby! That was... Wow!" Adele squealed when he struggled back up to his former position, his face wet with her juices.
"Thought you might like that," Frank declared, self-satisfied. "I got somethin' else for ya now..." He dug his hips between her thick thighs, spreading them, and worked the head of his cock between her spread lips. Seating it was no problem, nor was the insertion; Adele moaned as his sinewy cock slid home in her.
This was a different situation than he'd had with Jean. Adele was no princess, no china doll to be treated gently and carefully. Adele confirmed that for him right away, and he never really got started worrying about it. "Oh, Baby, I LIKE that!" Adele panted and grabbed his ass -- and away he went, rocking and rolling.
From Adele's perspective, Frank was a perpetual motion machine made to fuck. His hips snapped again and again, pistoning his cock into her smoking cooze until her juices ran molten from it and she lost her mind -- and he was still doing it when she returned. He was bone and gristle and muscle and a cock that sometimes seemed to be a foot long despite the fact that she was pretty sure it was only half of that, pounding its length metronomically into her while he chewed one of her fat nipples until she was sure it was bloody -- and she didn't care... Four times he brought her to that place where nothing existed but pleasure before collapsing atop her -- but not before she felt him shoot long jets of his seed deep into her. Then he went to sleep -- and she didn't give a damn because he'd earned it, BIG time!
Frank had collapsed somewhat irritated with himself -- he was capable of riding a woman twice as long, he was certain. Maybe it was old age... In any case, part of the problem had been the feel of it -- Adele was good pussy, and he had everything he could do to control himself under the intense pleasure rubbing the inside of her twat generated in his rod. The bitch's inside lining was like gathered velvet -- soft and with deep folds that caressed his meat until he thought he was gonna go nuts from the feel of it. When he finally DID lose it, he thought he'd blown the head of his cock clean off, he shot jizz so hard, but it settled down pretty quick. He crashed against one of those cantaloupe-sized titties of hers and went out like a light...
He popped awake at one a.m. with a piss hard, drooling on the valley between them big-ass titties. He tried to get up without disturbing her, but, shit, he was using the bitch for a mattress... When she grabbed his bicep, he muttered, "Gotta go pee," and sat up, feeling blindly for his clothes.
She didn't let go. "You don't need that stuff," she insisted. "I'll take you -- but you're coming back to bed, hear?"
"You don't hafta..." Frank sputtered.
"I know I don't hafta," she replied, "but I wanna. It's nice having someone in bed with me, you know? I'm not soft on you, or anything, but sometimes..."
"Yeah." Frank had to agree with her. "C'mon, take me to the pisser before I leave a puddle." They padded down the hallway and he peed, then she peed, and they padded back; he got into bed and rolled onto his side and she pressed fifty pounds of tit flesh against his back -- and you know what? It was pretty fucking good...
He woke up again at three forty-three -- that's what the digital clock said, anyway. He was flat on his back -- and some serious lips were riding up and down his boner, which was at full extension. He reached down and got a handful of springy hair, "What'cha doin'?"
"I got so horny," her voice came, breathless, "I couldn't help myself. Fuck me again, please?"
"Bein' you asked purty..." He hauled at her -- and got instantly reminded that she was no little split. There'd be no ridin' HER on top, for instance -- that was for little shit like Teela, not big hammers... "How do ya want it?"
"Doggy. I want it doggy," Adele insisted. "Make me your bitch."
"Comin' up..." There was no problem finding her slot in the dark, but the hole proved difficult -- he almost poked her ass. Something told him that she'd have let him, too... Once slotted, he had a big ass cheek in each hand; if he tugged a bit, she met him halfway on the stroke. It was time to ride...
Adele thought she was going to go insane; Frank rode her like he'd ridden her before -- and just kept on going! She yelled so loud at four fourteen that Alyssa popped open the bedroom door and asked, "Mama, are you okay?" And she waved her daughter off, wordless, because the LAST thing she wanted was for that rangy little bastard pounding her ass to stop! She came seven times -- and collapsed, unable to cum again -- before he grunted, "Here it comes!" and painted her cervix.
"Now THAT's a FUCK, by fuckin' god," Frank muttered to himself, his lungs puffing like a bellows. "I gotta go pee again, then you're gonna let my ass sleep, ya hear?"
"Yes, Baby, I hear..."
'Bitch is smilin' -- I can hear it in her voice...' Frank thought, grinning, as he stalked down the hall to the bathroom. 'Showed her ass a thing or two...' This time when he came back he stuck his cock in the crack of her ass and grabbed a handful of titty, stuck his nose in her neck and went on out...
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