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" Chuck brushed his hand against her forehead."I-I'll be real good. Just let mommy get a little sleep." Aw, poor thing, but this will take only a minute." He smiled at her."Wh-what is it?" Dorothy couldn't dare disobey him or even stall him."I want you to tell me something."Oh, no. She could hear the threat already in his voice, no matter how kindly he pretended."Please. I-I don't know." You haven't heard the question yet." His voice almost slipped into anger.His mother swallowed her sobs, petrified from her fear."Now tell me mother. Are you really a cocksucker?" Oh, Chuck!" She burst out.Chuck snapped at her. "Answer me!"Dorothy painfully met his eyes. "I-I don't know... I don't know what to say." You know. You know what you feel when I push into your mouth." I feel terrible. You're so terrible to me." I'm just teaching you, but I have to know what you're feeling when you suck me. You like it, don't you." Chuck, I'm so confused. I-I'll say anything." She surrendered. Hope failed. "If. Endorphins washed through his body and he was left wondering if this was all a dream. But as he stroked and poked, and huffed and puffed, and listened to the horny groans escaping the lips of his three shirtcocking studs he knew that, despite the improbability of it all, this was real. Today he had been made a man! He was a raging stallion, taming the hunger of these three beefy brutes whose chunky arses had offered him the most man-fun he had ever known. But it couldn’t last, his brains and his nerves and his heart would not stand for it. Phil quickly scooted over to claim his prize and sank his leaking cock into the red-headed spicy slut hole. Once more he experienced the amazing power that this man seemed to posses deep in his asshole. Once more the red-heads’ lust had polluted his mouth as he begged Phil to fuck him into the sand. As Phil’s feet started to tingle he was happy to oblige. Whipping that ten inch man sword all the way out of that hungry hole he slammed it back in.
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I whimpered a little. I wanted his dong—I giggled, dong, so goofy, I hadn’t called it that in years—back inside my head. His dong. Making me dingy. Ding-dong, ding-dong. I felt stoned. For a moment I wondered: What is happening to me? But it wasn’t a thought I could hold on to. ‘Babe,’ he said. ‘You up for something different?’ I must’ve nodded, because he said, ‘Great. Turn around. On all fours. Yeah, like that. Okay. Turn your head, look at me—yeah, big smile, just like that . . . and, there. Atta girl.’ More digital camera sounds. Great. Now I was sleazy 70s porn. Who cared. I felt fantastic. He was happy, so I was happy. I brought my head to the floor, resting on my cheek so I could still look back at my beloved husband, and fingered my clit. I giggled. ‘Am I glossy?’ I asked. ‘All those girls look glossy when they do this. Their slits all shiny.’ He smiled. ‘Wet as a river.’ I grinned and kept playing with myself. After a bit my breathing grew ragged. I was getting close..

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