Mariel Archer stared out the front window of her attractive two-story home as her husband, William (not “Bill”, too informal) slowly walked down the manicured sidewalk to his car.
He was 65 years old now and really didn’t need to work any longer (house was paid for, kids all off on their own) but he didn’t believe a person should take up space on the planet without working to pay for the privilege. That was William.
Mariel gave a half-hearted wave as he backed out of the driveway, and she ran her hands along the sides of her ankle-length skirt as she often did when she was nervous. She didn’t know why she felt this way, but there it was.
William was a good man and she loved him. They had been married, lord, how long? It would be 40 years in a couple of months. 40 years. She refused to spend any more time wondering where the time went. She did that often enough. Instead, she just sighed. She’d been sighing a lot lately.
There was a simmering fire in Mariel, although the casual observer wouldn’t notice it. She was just a 62-year old mother and grandmother who hadn’t worked outside the home since she married William. She was a good housekeeper and mother, good-tempered and usually good-natured too. She liked to garden. She volunteered at the church on cleaning day and sang in the choir, made casseroles for the sick or dying and entertained neighbors from time to time. Nothing unusual for a Midwest wife.
But that fire . . . well, it worried her some. And it titillated her at the same time. She recognized this fact and she sometimes stoked that little naughty flame – and that titillated her even more.
Oh, she didn’t do anything about it. She just, well, thought about . . . things. Sexual things.
She was thinking about them now and was surprised and a little amused to see her left hand had settled on her ample belly and was drifting toward her womanhood. She pulled it away quickly and ran her hands along the side of her skirt again. She stood in front of the mirror, primped a little, then tightened the belt around her waist and looked out on the neighborhood this warm summer morning to see if he was there yet.
David Strawhorn had just rolled out of bed. Home from college for the summer, the 20-year old young man was just over 6-feet tall and carried a pleasant muscle tone, the result of doing yard work to make some money for school.
He threw on some shorts, a t-shirt and old running shoes then headed out the door after grabbing a glass of juice and a piece of toast from his mother. He wasn’t much for breakfast.
He had a job with the Silver family that should take all morning and he was in a hurry to get started before the heat of midday kicked in. He grabbed the hedge clippers, the lawn mower and the edger before starting off down the street. It was going to be another great day and he smiled. Life was good.
Mariel looked at herself in the mirror a little more closely. She was doing that more and more often these days.
Her hair was silver and brown but she was carefully coiffed thanks to regular visits to her beautician. She noted her broad shoulders which people used to say made her look like Linda Evans on the old Dynasty program on television. She was amply endowed, always had been, although she didn’t “advertise”, as William would put it. Instead, she wore blousy tops that didn’t say much about the package underneath.
She was pleased to note she still had a waist even though her belly was full and, well, matronly. Wide hips. Big rear end. Her legs, she noticed as she lifted her skirt, were not unattractive although they were a little heavier than she would have liked.
There was a clattering sound outside. Mariel dropped her skirt, ran her hands along the fabric again and stepped briskly to the window.
She was surprised to discover her heart was pounding.
David saw Mariel before she saw him. He was looking for her but he turned his gaze away from the window before she saw him looking up.
He stopped and leaned against an old oak in clear view of Mariel’s window, then he pulled off his t-shirt and jammed it into the back of his shorts. This was the ritual he had been performing for the last 2 weeks and every time, Mariel was there to watch it.
The first time had been innocent enough. He caught a movement in the window and quickly looked up and saw Mariel moving away from the window. The first time, he smiled. Then he saw her the next day. And the next. And the next.
He never looked up at her, but he knew she was there. It was clear she enjoyed watching him and with every performance David found, to his surprise, that he was more and more aroused by the exercise. He would rest there for about five minutes or so, stretching, yawning and increasingly, pulling at his crotch as his cock would begin expanding somewhat uncomfortably inside his tight shorts.
Then he would push his yard equipment down the street and fantasize about the fat old woman who had been watching him. What did he know about her?
He knew Mariel was a housewife who did all her own lawn work, including the mowing. He knew she had a good reputation and that she did a lot of volunteer work. He didn’t know much else though.
A few days ago David was raking the Caterelli’s lawn when he heard a lawnmower running at Mariel’s house and he decided to take a look at Mariel at work.
She was wearing a modest pair of shorts that nevertheless pulled tight over her large but curvaceous ass and a large tee that was tucked into the shorts. She didn’t see David watching her but once when she leaned over to move a stick off the lawn, he could see up the shirt to a pair of huge bra-covered tits dangling deliciously from her chest.
Despite himself, David gulped audibly and his erection grew in an instant. He calmed himself, waited until the boner had retreated somewhat, then walked over to Mariel just as she turned off the lawn mower.
He smiled broadly at her. “Good morning, Mrs. Archer,” he said. “The lawn looks great.”
Mariel was more than startled. She was almost in shock. There was David Strawhorn, shirtless, smiling and, yes, she admitted it, gorgeous, looking right at her. What was he doing here?
When she looked around the yard to see if anyone else had seen them, David knew what thoughts were bouncing around inside her matronly, housewife-ly little head and he was more than pleased.
“You know, I can do that work for you,” he said, walking toward her boldly. She looked around uncomfortably again. He smiled broadly. “If all the other ladies in the neighborhood are as energetic as you are, I’ll be out of work.”
“Oh, well, . . .” Mariel stammered. “I just always liked doing it myself . . . .”
David laughed. “I’m just playing with you,” he said. He consciously made the decision to say ‘playing with you’ to note her reaction. As expected, she blushed and he laughed again.
“Here,” he said. “Let me push that back to the shed for you. No charge.”
David touched her hand as he grabbed the mower and she pulled it away in an instant as though it were a hot poker. “Thank you,” she said.
Mariel Archer was looking down on David Strawhorn. She was titillated and a little ashamed of herself – but she wasn’t dumb. She knew what David was doing and it excited her that he willingly participated in this little charade, this dance.
She touched herself – there. It was okay. She was just sort of calming the waters, as it were, so there was nothing wrong with doing this. David was grabbing at his crotch, as he had been doing more and more recently and she started stroking herself until she could feel a little flush in her cheeks.
Oh, God, this felt good! And she wasn’t doing anything wrong. A wave came through her and she shuddered briefly, raised her eyes skyward and exhaled with a rush. When she looked toward the street, David was gone.
Her husband William was not only a good provider, he was still active sexually. There would be a little foreplay, maybe a kiss, caressing her breasts for a few minutes then he would enter her and do his business. It was more than his way. It was tradition. A ceremony.
But what William didn’t know – and what she would never tell him — is that she longed to have him rip off her flannel nightdress, bite her nipples until they were red and ravish her unmercifully. She wanted him to smack her ample bottom with a heavy hand until she would bite her lip.
Mariel wanted him to take her from behind and to whisper darkly obscene things to her while pummeling her body with his manhood. That’s what she wanted. That’s what, secretly and increasingly, she longed for.
Of course, she could never tell William. And this was her shame.
But David. He could take her there and never even know he was doing it. That’s what was happening now.
In the last week, she would rub herself while he stretched his naked torso against the oak tree outside until she would come to a gentle climax in a way she hadn’t come in years.
Mariel would look at the young, hard flesh and run a tentative index finger along her vagina while imagining David’s hot breath on her neck, biting her hair and pulling at it, feeling his lean body against her backside, his great penis probing her, penetrating her and finally spilling itself in her while he mangled her breasts and chided her for her weakness. And that would carry Mariel to climax every day.
She no longer merely looked forward to these visits. It was the only thing she looked forward to.
When he had spoken to her last week, she thought she would faint. If she only knew he was coming, she would have, well, worn something more . . . cheerful. She was thinking something more REVEALING but couldn’t quite bring herself to think the words.
All she knew for sure is that she wanted to look more attractive than she did.
When David touched her hand, she had almost swooned again. His hand was hot and hard but smoother than she would have expected. Even though she turned her head away while he pushed her lawnmower to the shed, she was able to watch him walking and took notice of his tight rear end and muscled legs. In that moment, she developed new, darker fantasies she would explore the next morning.
She imagined her arms around that tight rear end, feeling David’s sweet sweat against her own cool body and squeezing at his hardness until he moaned and took her eagerly without any thought to her own needs.
If he only knew . . . those were her own needs.
Mariel sighed heavily the next morning as she got up from bed. William had gone to work an hour ago and as she absently fingered her hardening right nipple, she thought it was pretty sad how much she looked forward to the little dance with David. She wondered how much longer it would go on.
Nevertheless, she got herself cleaned up, put on a pretty coral-colored blouse and squeezed into some tight pants, then sat near the window and awaited the clattering of David’s lawn equipment down the street.
But nothing happened.
Mariel was horribly depressed, more than she would have expected. Where was he? She almost started to cry – over missing him, over needing to see him, over the sadness of the silly, stupid drama.
Suddenly she realized she heard a lawnmower outside. It had been running for some minutes but she had ignored it in reverie. She went to the front window.
David was mowing her lawn!
Mariel practically flew downstairs and was both happy and shocked. For reasons she didn’t quite understand even later, she threw open the front door and beamed widely at David who had just about finished the front lawn. He looked over at her. He was shirtless and glistening with sweat. He smiled back and let the mower come to a throaty stop.
“Hello, Mrs. Archer,” David said as he pulled his shirt out of his back pocket and wiped his forehead with it. “My other jobs were all done and I thought it was too hot to have you outside today. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mariel could feel herself flush, awash not only with the usual lust but also genuine affection for this thoughtful young man. She beamed again, widely. She was feeling quite comfortable now and swung the door to her home open widely.
“That’s so kind,” she said. “Thank you so much. I made some fresh lemonade yesterday and I think there’s still some left. It’s very sweet.”
David decided he was going to blow off his obligation to do the Stewart’s lawn today. He had other plans.
Last night he had a vision he simply couldn’t get out of his head. After a while, he began to nurture it until he felt his erection straining against his shorts.
The vision was Mrs. Archer’s hand wrapped around his hard cock, eagerly stroking it without lifting her eyes, mumbling something unintelligible, until he finally sprayed her face and hair with his exploding jism and she fell on his limp dick, cleaning it up with an elongated tongue.
It was just an erotic dream but when he got up this morning, David could think of nothing else.
Just Mrs. Archer. And her wide hips. The pendulous tits. The good little girl look in her eyes that suggested . . . more.
So instead of his morning “exercises” by the oak tree, he decided to mow the Archer lawn and see what happened next. He was not disappointed.
David was surprised at the joy in Mrs. Archer’s face when she opened the door after he finished the lawn. He was shocked and a little amused at the way she filled a tall glass with lemonade and ice until the glass overflowed onto the floor.
And he audibly groaned with a fearful passion when she leaned over to wipe the floor clean and the great ass filled out her slacks so that David had to fight off the overwhelming desire to stroke her backside as she wiggled it before him.
He emptied the lemonade with one, long gulp so that some of it spilled down his cheeks and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Mrs. Archer was squatting down on the floor now, wiping up the last of the sticky beverage from the floor.
David wadded up some paper towels and squatted down next to her, helping her clean up the mess. He looked up into her face and she looked into his briefly, then she turned away a little uncomfortably and continued to clean up.
For his part, David looked down to her chest. In her current posture, her pink blouse had opened between the buttons and he could see a lacy beige bra that excited him again, this time past controlling.
He dropped the sticky wet paper towel. “Mrs. Archer?” he said. Mariel looked up.
David crawled over next to her and kissed her full on the mouth. Her teeth were briefly barring the way, then she opened them and his tongue probed for hers. He put his right hand behind her head and forcefully grabbed a ball of hair and pulled her face tight to his and at that, her tongue found his. She didn’t participate exactly, David thought, but she was letting him flick at her and he could feel her breath increasing as he slobbered kisses and licks along her mouth and her face, her exposed neck.
This is a 60-something year old woman I am ravishing, he thought, and she is letting me. And this aroused him more.
David undid one button on the pink blouse and it popped open, revealing the brassiere-covered tits, larger even than he expected. He reached for the right one and touched it only tentatively and he felt Mariel shiver. The nipple hardened in the instant as he gently massaged the tip with his thumb.
“Oh, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Mariel managed to croak. “Please don’t. This is so wrong.”
David started kneading her breast more firmly. “Oh . . . .” was all she could say as he kissed her mouth, bit on her ear. Almost by accident, he pulled on her hair as he tried to free his hand to grab the other tit and her reaction was electric. He tugged on her hair again, nipped at the fleshy lobe of her ear and boldly slipped his right hand inside the bra to feel the warmth, heft and softness of her huge breast.
“David, David, I’m a married woman,” she said in a plaintive way that made David smile through his lust. “Do you think we should do this?” And for the first time she gave a timid peck at his mouth and he knew she was his.
“You’re right,” he said, smiling to himself. “I’m so sorry.” And he reluctantly pulled his hand away from that warm, erotic titflesh and brushed it firmly against her crotch which responded with warmth, wetness and a slight buck.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again, struggling to keep from laughing out loud. “Please forgive me.” And he rushed out the door.
Mariel was breathless. And stunned.
What had happened? Had David actually been here?
But, yes. She could feel his sweet sweat on her cheek. Her coral blouse was open and, when she closed her eyes, she could feel the soft, yet insistent touch of David’s thumb against her nipple, still hard.
She felt tentatively for her crotch. Warm. Hot, even. And wet with desire.
Mariel licked her lip absently and reached over her belly and into her panties where she fingered her clit. In a moment – and for the first time in years – she experienced a thunderous, body-shaking orgasm and it was only the bracing of a shaking arm that prevented her from collapsing to the linoleum floor.
David ignored Mariel for the next few days. It wasn’t easy.
He now hungered for her in a way he had never felt hunger for a woman before. Her great tit beneath the heavy-duty bra was like something from another world. He wanted more than anything to possess it, to feel its warmth under his bare hand again, to consume it with his open mouth, to flick at the nipple with his tongue and watch again the way Mariel’s eyes rolled back in their sockets as he toyed with her, the way her tongue played with her bottom lip as he felt her up, the way her breath increased in intensity and to listen again to the soft, mewing protestations that inflamed him more than anything else.
But he had a plan and this morning, finally, he would carry it out.
He was up early, even before his mother had started breakfast. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair and pulled on the tightest shorts he could get into and a muscle shirt, then was out the door.
The summer morning was clear and cool. Not a cloud in the sky. He could smell eggs and bacon from dozens of kitchens in the neighborhood.
But he was only interested in one.
David knocked on the door of the Archer house and, as he expected, a surprised Mariel Archer, wearing a robe and a long nightgown beneath and holding a spatula, opened the door and he pushed his way in.
Mariel looked panicked. She looked quickly over her shoulder into the kitchen. “William is having breakfast in the kitchen…” she managed to say and David placed his arm around her wide waist and kissed her on the lips, then slipped his hand down to massage, finally, the great ass he had dreamt about and lusted over, through the robe. It was round and deliciously soft. She tasted like butter and strawberry, no, it was raspberry, jam.
He looked directly into Mariel’s terrified eyes as he pushed open her robe and placed the palm of his hand against her crotch and lightly fingered the fold there.
“Who is it Mariel?” William called from the kitchen.
Mariel couldn’t answer at that particular moment. Her eyes rolled back as she let the young invader touch her in a most intimate way.
She came back to Earth in the instant and, while not pushing David away, moved away from him but her hand lingered on his probing fingers for a moment.
“Oh, it’s David, young David Strawhorn from down the street,” she said with some difficulty.
They could hear a chair move and William walked into the foyer, wearing a big smile on his face and holding out an outstretched hand. He was a big man, with a ruddy complexion. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for mowing our lawn earlier in the week. We really should hire a lawn boy but Mariel, well, she likes doing it herself.”
David grasped William’s hand with the same fingers he had used to finger his wife’s cunt moments earlier. “It pays to advertise,” David smiled. “I was hoping you might want to hire me after you saw the job.”
“I do, I do,” said Mariel’s husband William, pumping David’s hand again. “You did a fine job and I will be happy to pay the going wage –no more, mind you – if you do the same thing every week.”
“You have a deal,” said David.
“Good, good,” said William, smiling at Mariel who still looked a little stunned. “How about making another order of pancakes and sausage for this young man. He needs to keep his energy up.”
David smiled. “That’s true enough. Thank you. That’s very kind.”
Mariel walked back to the kitchen like someone sleepwalking and David took a seat on the wide side of the table between Mariel and William. He carried on some small talk with William before Mariel brought a short stack of pancakes, topped with butter and hot, sticky maple syrup.
“This is great, Mrs. Archer,” he said, smiling at her.
She looked away at William. “I’m so glad you like them, David.”
“Oh I do, I do. Do I taste a little buckwheat in these pancakes?”
William laughed. “You’re a smart boy,” he said. “You’re absolutely right! That’s the secret to Mariel’s great pancakes.”
Mariel jumped in her chair and spilled a little of her coffee but it was not because of David’s compliment. Rather it was the feel of David’s free hand sliding under her nightgown and over her chubby thighs, then lingering there and stroking her with only his pinky finger brushing against her panty-covered crotch.
“Delicious,” said David as Mariel pushed her crotch against his finger and he rolled it in a small circle at the same time until he could feel the coarse pubic hairs and the warmth and the wetness beginning to grow. “I’ve never had anything better.”
William, at the other end of the table, nodded amiably while he finished the last of his breakfast.
David was able to put a big chunk of pancake into his mouth and just about the time the still warm maple syrup dripped along his chin, Mariel shifted her position slightly and David’s pinky finger slipped past the cotton panty and was finally touching – flesh to flesh — the hot, sopping twat of Mariel Archer.
David glanced over at her and he could see Mariels’ eyelids flickering which seemed to preced the rolling back of her eyes.
“Oh . . .” she moaned.
William looked up. “Mariel?”
She took a breath and David unplugged his finger from Mariel’s aged cunt. “Oh, nothing. I just remembered something I have to do later today.”
“Oh,” said William, looking at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’m going to be late.”
David stood up and wiped his hand on his shorts, then reached out to shake William’s hand again. “Thank you so much, Mr. Archer. I’ll do a good job for you.”
“I know you will,” he beamed. “Mariel. I’m off. I’ll see you tonight.” And he kissed her on the forehead and was gone
Mariel waved at William as he backed out of the driveway but she took a moment to consider the surreal situation.
In the other room was the lust of her life, David. He had already mauled her in a most cheeky fashion under the very nose of her husband, whom she loved and respected. He was manipulative and deceptive, assertive and, yes, even arrogant. These were not traits she respected! The boy would have to be sent on his way, once and for all.
Mariel had a new air of resolve about her as she walked into the kitchen. She tightened the belt on her robe. David, finishing a second helping of pancakes, just chuckled at this. He finished his breakfast, wiped his mouth and pushed away from the table, then crossed his legs like he was lord of the manor. The nerve!
“I can’t remember eating a better breakfast,” Mrs. Archer. “You are a teriffic cook.”
“Well . . .” she said, trying to remain angry, but wanting to respond properly to a compliment. “Well, thank you.” She began cleaning up the dishes. “I really think you should go. Mr. Archer said you could have the mowing job so you should deal with him on times and payment.”
Mariel was feeling pretty proud of herself, although her vagina still ached with the feel of David’s finger entering her there. She looked over at David and he was beaming widely.
“I’m not ready to go yet, Mrs. Archer.”
“We don’t need the lawn mowed again this week,” she said.
“Nah, not that. I was hoping you would serve me dessert.”
There was no mistaking that meaning and Mariel strode over to David to give him a piece of her mind, once and for all but David with one smooth motion had pulled the robe belt free and lifted the robe from her shoulders, then tossed it to the floor. Mariel stood there in a long white night dress, two thin straps over the shoulders, her breasts practically visible through the diaphanous bodice. She knew she might as well have been naked.
He moved toward her. “David, we cannot . . . this must end . . .” and she meant it. But standing before this aggressive young man with his long muscular legs and his shorts tight against his growing manhood, she felt oddly alive and was surprised to hear herself groan in a kind of animal resignation.
He was on her now, kissing her face, her neck, rubbing her breasts, her vagina, between her legs.
“Ohh. . . ohh . . .” she said. “No, no, you shouldn’t. We mustn’t.”
David laughed out loud now and stopped his mauling briefly. “Your lips say ‘no, no’ but your wet cunt says ‘yes, yes’.”
His effrontery was breathtaking and yet Mariel was incapable of reacting. She stood still, unresisting, while David lifted her night dress over her head and Mariel stood there, naked except for her sopping panties.
David pulled off his shirt. He wanted to feel her tits against his bare chest. Mariel threw her head back and moaned. He pressed his body to hers, then licked at her throat and finally tore into the mounds of breast there for the taking.
“This is what you want, Mrs. Archer.”
God, her tits were stupendous. They hung low over her heavy belly but were firm at the same time, The aureoles were large as saucers and this aroused him still further. He was surprised to hear himself growl as he spread his lips to grab Mariel’s right tit and suck on it while assaulting the other at the same time with his free hand.
Mariel was breathing heavier and heavier now, holding David’s head to her chest. “Bite it,” she said. “Bite it hard. Harder!”
He couldn’t believe this prudish, stay-away grandmother was now urging him on to new liberties he hadn’t expected or dreamed for. He tugged at her nipple with his teeth until her breast was almost parallel to the floor. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said, eyes closed.
Even in his old lady lust frenzy, David had the presence of mind to look at the rest of her body, the rounded belly and the thin cotton panties, soaked through with the juices of her most forbidden desires.
She pulled him away from his tit sucking briefly to kiss him with an open mouth that bespoke of all the pent-up passion contained within the old woman. There was no hide and seek now. She was sucking on his tongue, slobbering his face, licking his ears. He pulled her away by the hair and she yelped, then looked into his eyes with a passion that was feral.
David grabbed her and pulled her into their bedroom where he flung her on the still-unmade bed, the bed she had shared with her husband not an hour earlier. He kicked off his shorts and Mariel’s eyes grew large at the size of David’s erection. It pointed up like a rocket on the launcher.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she repeated over and over like a child with a lollipop. She was in her own world now as she grabbed David’s pulsating cock just the way he had imagined in his dream, except this was so much better. She stroked it, eyes glaring wide, then she knelt before him and licked it from top to bottom, his balls, the drop of pre cum at the tip, everything.
For his part, David was able to yank her panties off in the process. He could smell the scent of this aroused old woman and he grabbed hold of her hair again and forced her mouth on his cock and pumped at her. She gagged at first but soon grew comfortable and took his two ass cheeks and pulled the entire length of him, still massaging it with her tongue on each stroke, into her mouth.
He pulled away and lay back on the bed, still warm from her husband. Mariel’s eyes were closed but she opened them slowly, still breathing hard like a heavy locomotive, and looked down at David’s massive erection.
“God, I want you, Mrs. Archer. In every possible way.”
She smiled and he noticed a few of her teeth were slightly crooked. “Stand up,” he commanded her. “Stand up over there and take off your panties – slowly.”
Mariel stole a quick grab of David’s erect phallus then did as ordered. She bent over and pulled off the soaked cotton panties and he could smell the scent of arousal in her.
“Drop them and turn around.”
Mariel dropped the panties in a ball at her feet and backed her huge ass toward the bed where David was laying back, a sticky string of pre cum stretched along his leg. He sat up and without saying a word, gave the huge white ass a hard slap that resounded in the couple’s bedroom. Mariel yelped – and he struck her again. No movement. Then a whisper.
“Do you like my ass, David?”
“Yes, I love your wonderful fat ass, Mrs. Archer.”
“It’s yours to do with as you wish,” she said softly and David Strawhorn had to use a monumental amount of will power to keep from erupting at that moment.
“Why you are a naughty old woman, Mrs. Archer. You need another spanking.” And Mariel wagged her big butt in front of his face and David smacked it again and again and Mariel cooed and threw her head back while her butt cheeks reddened from the assault.
David stood up and felt his naked body against her massive globes for the first time. She pressed back against him and he grabbed her hair, pulled her head backwards then used his free hand to maul her heaving breasts, pinching the nipple and poking along her ass crack at the same time.
Nothing he did could slow her down, it seemed, and David found he was filled with dark, never-realized passions for this fat old woman.
He took a finger and played with her anus and Mariel was still for a moment, then he dropped to the floor and placed hot, wet kisses on the huge landscape of old woman ass, wrapping his arms around her waist, feeling her soft belly, the wet twat. He jammed a finger in her cunt and placed tentative kisses at the anal opening, finally licking her rubbery hole tentatively, then eagerly, in a mad passion and Mariel screamed in the instant and jammed both her pudgy hands into her cunt, then freed the left hand, reached back and held David’s face to her puckered ass.
“Yes, yes,” she started saying again. “Yes, my sweet, sweet David. Eat my ass. Lick me. Eat me. Do what you will. Do anything you want.”
More and faster, the juices flowing down his cheeks, he chomped at her asshole and plugged her twat with fingers, playing an arpeggio against her clit.
He wanted her all, in all ways, at the same time. He wanted to eat her ass, her cunt, her tits, suck on her nipples, fuck her cunt, her ass, her tits, her mouth and he wanted her . . . degraded further . . . this old, eager, woman pushing her fat ass toward him and huffing away.
David stood up again and this time took his erect phallus and searched for the hole he had eaten. Again, Mariel’s breath seemed to be suspended in anticipation and then, yes, he found the aged bung hole and jammed his entire length into her in one motion. When she let out a light yelp, he managed to smack her ass cheek hard again and force himself into her farther still until he was in to the hilt. He paused a moment for her to acclimate to his hard, young member jammed up her ass, then he began the slow pulsing along his entire length. He looked down at his straining cock going in and out of that soft, aged ass crack and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
He managed to turn Mariel’s head while he fucked her ass standing up and he wanted her to kiss his mouth, the same mouth that had been eating her ass only moments ago.
And she wanted him. Her tongue slapped around inside his mouth as though looking for some leftover taste there, her eyes open but lifeless, then closed, then rolling, her mouth grunting with each stroke of David’s cock into her ass.
David felt he was growing harder still, more wicked, more depraved.
“Mrs. Archer, I’m going to cum in your ass and paint you with my seed. Is that what you want?”
Breathing heavily, she nodded.
“Then say it, say it!”
“Darling David, I want you to fuck my ass and never leave. I want you to hurt me with your sweet darling cock and I want to feel your sperm in me and drip from me. Fuck. Ass. Fuck. Ass. Cunt. Tit. Tit. David, David, my ass fucker, I love your cock. It feels so, so big. It hurts so goddamned good…”
David grabbed a handful of old lady tit, jammed his cock into Mariel’s ass as far as it could go then exploded into her bowels and she let out a scream so loud he thought for a moment he had finally gone too far but it was only Mariel’s release at the most stupendous orgasm she had ever experienced in her life.
David pulled his limp, dripping dick from Mariel’s leaking ass and stepped aside. She fell to the bed, trying to regain her breath. He turned his back to her.
“Now your turn, Mrs. Archer.”
He pushed his tight young ass against her face and Mariel, continuing to surprise him, eagerly began tonguing his tight asshole as though she had done it all her life.