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Husband is surprised to find wife stripping at a party.
Threatening to drown her, it took all her resolve to stay focused - stay with the program. And it went on and on, torrents of seed, filling her pharynx, backwashing into her mouth, menacing her back nasal passages.
Still, the liquid warmth hitting her throat and flowing into her tummy, had ignited a huge orgasm that had built inside her, roiling up and down her spine, intensifying with every splash of cum, gushing into her. Gwen had felt herself convulse uncontrollably. Hanging off and spinning around his peg, she'd seemed to be jetting away from the present, into some other plane. In retrospect, she was surprised she hadn't bitten him - or torn him off.
Flopping about between his legs, she'd returned ever so slowly to earth. It had been an oral orgasm for the record books, at the very least. Eventually they'd resurfaced together, and glancing up at his face - his white smile gleaming sheepishly down at her, she'd gently resumed bobbing, dragging her lips up and down his cock. After a couple last, lethargic shudders, he'd been still. Gwen noticed that he'd hardly gone down at all. Finally pulling off him, she'd stared at his still rampant prick. Even now, she was impressed at how little of its integrity his erection lost.
After paying homage to the persistently upright woodie, Gwen recalled, she'd shuffled her knees up his hips and swung her legs over to impale herself on his throbbing sword; eager to try it 'cowgirl' again - a recent addition to her repertoire of sexual positions. Her pussy dripping and ready, she'd engulfed him fully in one swift plunge. And there was a bit of palpable magic when she pushed her waiting pussy onto him. The now-you-see-it, now-you-don't of his glistening blackness slipping into her, seemed surreal. He'd filled her nicely, and by his responses, both active and verbal, he'd appreciated it.
She had played her white fingers across his chest, twiddling and pinching at his nipples. He'd cupped her pale breasts with his dark hands, in turn mauling and caressing, playing with her stiff buds. The attention to her breasts had been just like blowing gently on a flame to get a fire underway. Rising and falling, raising and lowering, up and down, Gwen had fucked him at an almost leisurely speed. There was no urgency, now. It just felt good, for him, too - she knew it, and she could see it in his eyes.
Eventually however, her thighs had begun to flag. As wonderful as it was, she'd needed to change position, so she had taken his shoulders and rolled, like a wrestler, to the side, dragging him over and on top of her, without releasing his member. Pulling him into, so-called, missionary position, she'd thrusted her hips to seat him fully once more, then begun rocking and squirming beneath him - her mission was to fuck him and fuck him well! She had felt him jerk and shudder as he'd regained the path to climax, and she'd felt herself blazing the way - her pre-ignition sequence, quickly getting well underway. The snapping and sizzling of sparks, along her nerves, criss-crossing and pinballing helter-skelter within, had promised a satisfying climax, soon.
Gwen had hooked her heels over his lower back and held him tight, relaxing as he'd retreated then pulling him in hard as he'd reinserted. Plunging and withdrawing, he fell into a dynamic rhythm that worked. Gwen had controlled the speed, communicating through her fingers at his shoulders, and varying vaguely the intensity of her pelvic thrusts as she rocked her hips to meet each push. Working on his second climax, he had demonstrated a bit of staying power, so they'd thrusted and heaved for many minutes - the beast with two backs, convulsing on the bed. He'd managed one more orgasm for himself - vocal and frenetic, gushing profusely, and filling her up - as well as couple of mild ones for her. He had been satisfied - so had she.
In the final analysis, while he was neither the biggest nor the best, he was still pretty damn fine! And to be fair, he was just a week aft