!ADULTS ONLY! DIRTY PARTS!

hissed right now and lashed out and bit her on one of her big toes, it wouldn't have surprised her a bit.

      Earl, with his black half-socks still on, walked over to the side of the bed and stood there. His crooked, humongous lady-thriller snake wobbled and swayed from side to side as if it sought out the best place to strike. He took it in his right hand and shook the huge, bent salami up and down at her.

      "Ain't it a beaut, Darlin,' he said. "Cluce couldn't get enough of this little fella, dontcha know?" He waved it around in a circle and, as he did, a pre-cum blob flew off the tip and landed on her left nipple. It both startled and titillated her.

      "Like it?" he asked. Not knowing what else to say or do, she nodded, her eyes a-bug.

      "Soon, Honeybunch . . . you're gonna love it!"

      Just before he got onto the bed to place his body alongside hers, he gave a wink to the wall space that was behind and above her head. Earl's favorite picture of our Lord, the one with the eyes that follow
you all around the room, now looked directly at him. It also watched him as he placed his left knee on the bed, but it did not hear, one could assume, the bed groan from the now added extra weight.

      He kissed her lips, sloppily and wetly. He smothered her body in slick tongue kisses, all the way down to her toes. He groped her and he felt her. He trembled. He sweated. He wiggled around on top of her and beside her, as he groped, kissed and devoured her.

      His left knee went between her thighs and
opened them slightly. He pressed his knee into her vagina. He moaned and she moaned. A kiss. A grope. A feel. A squeeze. All geared to get her honey-motor started.

      As he worked on her body, her arms merely rested, in turn, on his back, his shoulders, his sides. Then he plunged a middle finger into her vagina. He wiggled it and probed. Farther in now. A push upwards. Then it was joined by a neighbor. The two now probed and pushed in a frenzy to find the elusive starter gizmo.

      She moaned louder now. Her arms now found more of him. Her hands squeezed, pressed and explored. Her fingers wandered and stumbled on
Cluce's favorite thing.

      She could hardly get her small hand around it. It throbbed and pulsated as she explored its circular length. He moaned.

      They writhed, entangled, and kissed and groped some more. His fingering of her increased and her passions rose. They both sweated, slippery together.

      Her hand went farther and found his balls. Hairy. Combined, they were as large around as an orange. She squeezed and massaged the orange sack tenderly and felt the two large egg-sized lumps just beneath the hairy surface.

      She massaged his scrotum knowingly. As if she had done it dozens and dozens of times before. He moaned. She moaned. The bed shook. Sweat flowed. Their heat rose.

      "Oh, baby," he breathed hotly in her ear, "You are
one hot Momma! . . . And your Daddy's gonna fuck you silly." She shuddered. Her mind was jumbled.

      She was ready. Ready to be fucked silly. By a man twice her age, who reminded her of her father.

      He knew she was ready, too. The moment for man and wife coupling had arrived. The foreplay was over. Earl's fun part had arrived.

      He parted her legs with his lower body and got between the two alabaster-hued gams. He reached down with his left hand, found his member's large plum-like head and started rubbing it up and down
furiously on her moistened slit.

      She moaned and marveled at the strangeness of it all. And his size. As a drop of spittle fell from his chin and landed on her shoulder, he whispered, "Get ready for your Daddy, Shugga!"

      He pushed his member into her to the depth of its head. She felt her vagina spread out wide by the intrusion. He gave her more, slowly, teasingly, a small half an inch at a time. Then he was in four or five inches. Fear arose in her. Fear of what was to come.

      Earl knew his new bride was a virgin. And he had only one philosophy on that matter. As a young man, he had broken in many a fine filly and knew just how to go about it. None of this, "Sorry. Am I hurting you,
Honey?" stuff for him. No sirree. Just plunge the old man meat right in all the way, quick as a rabbit, break the maidenhead and get the stupid shit done and over with--so a man can get to the good part.

      Thus, without any warning to her, he plunged the entire eleven and seven-eighths inches in. (For you sticklers of accuracy, and you purists, it should be noted that the method used for the measurement
was taken from the prestigious, and very well respected, New Oxford College Penile Measurement Guide, volume six, edition two.) His pubic hairs now bumped and shook hands with hers.

      "Ohoooooooooooow! Oh! Owwww! Ohoow!" she shrieked, her eyes shut tightly and filled with tears. She felt split in two. Torn apart. Ripped asunder. As if someone had drove a pregnant baseball bat deep
into her. A bat that curved acutely to her right. She felt the pressure of its enormity. The picture on the wall watched her in her plight.

      He took hold of her shoulders, from behind her, with both hands, held her fast and kept her in place. He pulled out some and plunged it to the hilt again. She screamed. She dimly felt the orange sack smack
against her buttocks. He plunged again. And again. And again.

      Earl's latest fine filly screamed throughout as he rode her. To break her in properly, his way. But her screams of pains were less loud each time as the pain was somewhat duller. Throughout her screams and groans, he plunged the bat with a vengeance.

      In and out. Without mercy. He was a wild man now. A wild man who now tried to fuck his new wife silly. Even sillier than silly. His ass pumped up and down like a piston. Her legs were splayed way out on
both sides of him. They wiggled and flailed in the air.

      He tried to drive the bat deeper with each plunge. Their bodies made slap-slap noises. Sweat flew in all direction.

      The bed bounced and creaked. They sweated some more. They moaned and groaned. She screamed and yelled. He kept at it.

      In her jumbled mind, she wished he would spurt and stop the pain. And at the same time, something in her wanted more. He, with a control only learned by practice, could fuck all night if asked politely.

      He regarded her moans and screams as polite enough . . .