Chapter 10

Hank just couldn't get his prick hard. He knew Trudy wanted to be fucked, but Mrs. Bell had blown and sucked his cock until he thought his nuts would break loose and come out the head of his hammer. Of course, he couldn't tell her that. "No, honey," he begged off, "I just don't feel good. I think I'm coming down with something." Then to cement the idea he took two aspirins and lay on the couch all evening sipping fruit juices.

Trudy was agitated and a bit angry with Hank at first. But when he didn't finish his, supper and indeed did look worn out and not up to par, her mother instinct took over and she fussed and waited on him the rest of the evening. The next morning was different.

Hank had a piss hard-on and she couldn't resist his stiff, ivory shaft with the purplish glowing knob that rose from his pubic hairs like some magic enchanting wand. She didn't wake him but straddled his sleeping body instead.

Lord, she was hungry for a decent-sized prick in her. The two boys of yesterday had given her pleasure. They had done what the old saying said, they had tickled her, but now she wanted some clubbing. She had even dreamed of it all night.

She was fucked all last night with an enormous cock that first belonged to Mr. Lamb, then her brother Tom, then Chuck. Then the massive sceptre would change into a searing, tongue lance and Mrs. Lamb would be driving her insane with lapping and licking, sucking and fucking her gluttonous quim. The dream was so real that she had woken up in a nervous, excited sweat with an aching, yearning, deep womb need and her body covered with perspiration. That's when she had noticed Hank's upright, slightly pulsating cannon and, realized that her pussy was sloppy slick with dream orgasms.

Trudy was careful not to touch Hank's body. She didn't want him to know he was going to fuck her until she had his erect, stiff, pleasure piston in her aroused, churning cavern. She centered her oozing, hot, wanting cooze over Hank's stiff pole and gently parted her eager, cum-slick vulvas so his beautiful tool would slide effortlessly into her craving ravine. When she had it just right, she lowered her trembling hungry cunt-throat onto his suddenly alive prong and allowed the erogenous, ecstatic goodness to radiate throughout her warm body as her snake swallowing, fiery pussy engulfed the sensuous mast.

Hank had been dreaming something, he didn't know what. But when the scorching, slippery, squeezing softness of Trudy's cunt swallowed his prick, his eyes popped open from the luxurious, sensuous preciousness. Oh Lord, what a way to be awakened. His beautiful, young, vibrant wife of two weeks was on top of him and dangling her voluptuous, eager mounds of mammary lusciousness before his eyes as she gently rolled and ground her super soft cum-wet cunt over his pelvis and hugged and squeezed his volatile prick in the depths of her velvety burrow.

After yesterday, Hank thought that he would never fuck again. Mrs. Bell had drained him, but now all the springs and juices of youth were centred in his prick and he loved the intoxicating elegant exercise. "Oh baby!" He moaned. He reached up and gripped her velvet, pudding-like mounds of trembling, vibrant womanhood. "Do it, honey! Fuck me good!"

Trudy was caught up in the intense, insistent, lascivious exaltation of his captivating cock. She rolled her wee, churning cunt-sleeve around, on, in, about his swelling hot poker and felt the tingles and gleaming spurts of carnal desire as his hard singeing sceptre moved and rubbed the innermost spots of her pussy. Oh God, if she could only get more of his teasing morsel into her. His erotic prong was shooting electric bolts of bliss and captivating delight throughout her in warm cascading currents, but the release she craved, the release she had to have, still hovered just beyond his magic horn. "Suck my tits," she panted. "Bite them, bite them!" Maybe that would help, God knew, she needed something more.

Hank eagerly raised his head and captured one of her erect, elastic, fervent breast nodes and bit and chewed gently on the succulent morsel. With his throbbing, frenzied, glowing phallus in her grasping, slobbering chute and his mouth and hands full of creamy, satin-soft, yielding, raging breast the captivating, surrendering, elegant feeling of impending climax was upon him. He was going to cum! He was going to shoot his thunderous load of ecstasy into her clutching, squeezing cunt-hole and blow her insides apart. He felt the tremendous, mind-blowing excited jism leave his nuts with soul wrenching bliss and rupture and break through his prostrate sphincter. "Oohhhhggaawwwwdddd!" He rammed his pelvis upwards to get every bit of his roaring, swollen, spitting prick into her salacious, heavenly hot hole. "Oohhhhh sshhittttt!" and his cock belched and spit its carnal insanity into her satin, engulfing cave.

Trudy hadn't been ready for his orgasm. She was three miles away from cumming and not gaining an inch. But when his gratifying cannon jerked and spit the boiling hot jism into her starving slot, a cascade of mini-orgasms trembled her body and jangled her brain. It was good, God knows it was good, but it left her unsatisfied and slightly ticked off. "You didn't warn me," she panted. "I... I..." She was going to say, "I wasn't ready," but realized at the last moment what damage that would do to his ego. "I loved it!" she said and allowed his prick to spit and drain itself in her now more-than-ever needing cunt. When his breath became normal again, she rolled off of her husband and hurried to the shower.

She needed to regain her wits. She loved Hank, she couldn't hurt him deliberately. She turned on the cold water and froze until her mind cleared. Then like a dutiful wife, she made his breakfast and sent him off to work with a kiss.

It wasn't until ten o'clock when she glanced out her kitchen window and saw Mr. Lamb that her womb spasmed up. Oh, it would be so nice to wrap her aching legs around his tired old bobbling ass and feel his enormous monster ripping and tearing her womb to shreds. But there was Mrs. Lamb! She didn't want anymore of that. It had been heavenly while it had lasted, but like Chinese food, it didn't stay with her. Surely there was a way she could get him alone? But how? How?

The old man messed around his roses, then went back into his house. Shit. Double shit! She should have said something. Then she remembered the phone. Yes, the phone! She would call, and if Mrs. Lamb answered, she would hang up. It was so simple. Trudy got out the phone book and looked up their number. It rang three times before his voice said, "Hello?"

"It's me!" Trudy kept her voice low. "Is your wife around where she can hear?"

"Who's me?" He seemed agitated.

"Trudy! The girl next door. Remember the other day?"

"Awwww yes," he said. "Trudy you say. That's a nice name."

"Shusssh," Trudy giggled, "not so loud. Can Mrs. Lamb hear us?"

"Not unless she's got ears like a radio. She went to her weekly sewing session. Or at least, that's what she-likes me to believe. But it's to meet with another woman... if you know what I mean?"

Trudy's heart jumped. She wasn't there! Oh thank God. "Great!" Trudy fairly bubbled. "Then can you... I mean, will you come over? I think I can use your services. If you know what I mean?"

Mr. Lamb chuckled this time. "Ah you lovely young baby. I do indeed. But Mrs. Lamb calls sometimes just to check on me. My heart, you know. Why don't you come over here? I think you'll like it better. Anyway, I have a surprise for you."

"Surprise for me?" Trudy was pleased, "What?"

"Oh you'll see," Mr. Lamb said. "Come on over, little darling," and he hung up.

Trudy set down the phone; her heart was thumping in her chest. Her pulse had quickened and she felt flushed. She was going to be thoroughly cleaned out, fucked again. Oh my! Oh my! She could hardly wait. However, as she walked to Mr. Lamb's house next door, the awful puritan voice once more shrieked in her brain. "Are you insane? Why are you doing this to your husband? You can't be so desperate for a man to actually chase an old man with a heart problem? Go back. Where is your self-respect?"

Trudy shook her head to stop the shaming thoughts and deliberately cast them aside. She was her mother's daughter, no more, no less. And she wasn't denying her husband anything. She was willing to give him all the loving he wanted. In fact, if anyone was delinquent in this marriage, it was Hank. So, rather than hurting her marriage, she was keeping it together with these innocent, occasional visits to her brother, or Chuck, or, in this case, Mr. Lamb. She bounced up the stairs and rang his doorbell. He opened it immediately.

"Aw," his eyes fairly danced when he saw her, "come in, my lovely. Come in."

Trudy didn't quite know what to do when he closed the door. He didn't say, "this way," or "the bedroom is upstairs," or hug her, or a damn thing but drool from his smiling mouth. She took the bull by its horns. "Well," she said, "where do we do it?"

"Ah good," he nodded. "You have come for loving. I wasn't quite sure."

"Oh," Trudy was delighted at his reaction, "why not sure?"

"Well," he took her by the arm and started walking her down the hallway. "You've got to believe that you're a miracle sent to an old man. I've never in my life been propositioned before, leastwise by such a young beautiful girl. It's just hard for me to believe it in my dottering old age." He opened a doorway to steps leading to the cellar. Trudy followed him below.

Trudy was flabbergasted at the luxury of the cellar. A thick red pile carpet covered the floor. The walls and ceiling were all mirrors with indirect lighting glowing a soft sheen by way of neon lights between the ceiling and walls. The bed was a huge circular marshmallow covered with satin sheets and strips of corded rayon drifting up the sides and lying on the bed. There was a female washbasin in one corner for douching, and electric outlets were scattered about the room. "My goodness!" Trudy was impressed. "Is this my surprise?"

"like it, cutey?" Mr. Lamb chuckled. "Used to be a bomb shelter. Mrs. Lamb had me convert it when I was still in my prime. And no, the surprise comes later."

"You're not in your prime?" Trudy grinned teasingly at him.

"Not until you came along, I wasn't. Well." He started to undress. "Let's get to it."

Trudy took off her sweater and bra, kicked off her sandals and slacks and jumped on the water bed! "Oh wow!" Her eyes danced as the soothing water sloshed and rocked her tiny frame. "I've never been on a water bed before."

"like it, do you?" Mr. Lamb pulled off his pants and bared his sensational, enormously long, thick, but soft hanging prick to her gaze.

"Oh yes!" Trudy said, but seeing his limp prick she was confused. "It isn't hard. What's the matter?"

"Nothing to fret about, my dear." Mr. Lamb moved to the bed and instructed her. "Just lie flat with your head just over the edge of the bed here." As Trudy complied, he continued, "Since Mrs. Lamb caught you and me the other day, she has been blowing on my prick every time it even looks like it might get hard. Jealousy, I guess. Now stretch your hands over here so I can put these silk bands on them."

Trudy watched him tie her wrist with the soft yet very strong cord. What in the world was going on? Why was he doing this? She knew this nice old man wouldn't hurt her and she desperately needed the relief that only his long, immense prick could give, still..."What are you doing?" she asked.

"The other hand," he said and when she gave it to him, he wrapped and bound the wrist rapidly before answering her. "There!" His voice had changed from that of a nice old man to a triumphant sneer. "Gotcha!"

With the tone of voice, Trudy experienced a cold, shivering chill wash over her body. "What?" came out of her confused mouth and she began to struggle against the rayon cords. It was like pulling against steel bands. "What are you going to do? Why am I tied? Aren't we going to... to?" She couldn't say it now.

Mr. Lamb chuckled wickedly again. "Yes, we are," he said and moved to a comer cabinet while taking and removed a fourto five-inch dildo affair that had a cord attached to it. "But some of you gals don't like it at first. Sooo," he held up the small imitation phallus, "I have to persuade you. You'll love it." He chuckled again. "In fact, you'll beg for it."

Trudy wasn't frightened anymore. She was scared to death! Mr. Lamb talked and looked crazy. Whatever had happened to the nice old man of two days ago? And why was he doing this? She was willing to be fucked. She wasn't fighting him. "Wait!" she said, "don't hurt me. I'll do what you want. I called you, remember? Release me; I'll do what you want."

"Oh, I know you will." Mr. Lamb plunged the dildo into a jar of vasoline, then knelt down by her now cold, dry cunt. "Open your legs."

Trudy clamped her legs shut. The size of the thing couldn't hurt her, but she didn't know why it had a cord. "No," she said, "don't."

Mr. Lamb laughed and pushed the greased miniature pole down her mons veneris to the lips of her terrified pussy, then aimed it in her.

Trudy felt the solid pressure and knew if she didn't open her legs and allow the entry that the stiff, hard-rubber thing could injure her delicate quim. She splayed her legs and accepted the cool foreign object. Mr. Lamb poked it all the way inside of her, but there was no pleasure in the feeling, only terror.

"No!" she cried, "please don't! Take it out. I'll do what you want. Honest! Take it out."

"All right, we'll see." Mr. Lamb moved around to her head and dangled his enormous, soft prick just over her face. "I won't turn it on. I'll give you a chance." He lifted his colossal appendage and dropped the massive sponge-rubber head on her lips. "Swallow it!"

"Swallow it! But that's impossible! I'd choke. Besides it's too big. I could never."

"See. That's what I mean." Mr. Lamb's voice was calm. "You women are all alike. Maude thought the same thing until I rigged up my little invention. But over the years she got to enjoy the tickler more than she liked my prick. She's not a lesbian by choice, you know. I was always too big to fuck her, but she enjoyed swallowing my prick and getting the tickler until I went soft five or six years ago. Then she turned to girls. You know, you're the first woman to harden me up in years. I feel like a lad again."

"Then let me up. I'll do it again. But I can't swallow you. It would kill me."

"No!" Mr. Lamb flopped his limp prick. "See, take a deep breath, swallow my prick and when I pull it out you exhale and take another breath. It's easy once you get the hang of it." He laid the massive head on her lips again. "Go ahead and try." But Trudy wouldn't.

She squeezed her lips shut and shook her head.

"All right," he said, and reached down and plugged the dildo into the side of the bed. Immediately and simultaneously salacious, soaring, continuous, unbearable electric seizures of excruciating ecstasy-pain consumed her body. Her mind and body were centred in a maelstrom of ungodly, lascivious ravenous lust Her breasts swelled as if pumped with sensuous air, her nipples sprang upright and quivered in raging gluttonous delight Her stomach, groin, and pelvic muscles were flung and twisted in unholy ecstatic excitement. Her tiny frame writhed and squirmed. Her mouth gaped in unexplored, unparalleled passion.

"AAAHHHEERRRRR! AAAHHHERRRRR!" tore from her throat as the tentacles of tumultuous, glistening, wanton vibration cascaded and paralysed her nervous system. Every pore, every nerve in her body was alive, vibrant, and torturous with agonizing, churning pleasure.

The ropes held Trudy's thrashing, spasming body in place as her pelvis twisted and squirmed in provoked, sensuous animation. Her deep pussy labyrinth muscles were convulsing and sucking the horrible, bewitching, hateful, marvelous dildo further into her rejecting, craving, cuddlesome cunt.

The lascivious, salacious intoxication permeated her body and soul as the erogenous storm built and grew stronger.

"I can't stand it!" she managed to scream out. "Stop it." Yet her pelvis and pussy bumped and thrust at the air as if an invisible prick were fucking her into an insane puddle of exquisite cum.

"You'll swallow my cock, then?" Mr. Lamb's voice came into her luxurious, tremendous, heaven-hell.

"Yesssss!" she yelled. "Yyesssss! Stop it! Stop it! Please!" And just as suddenly the awful, delightful, rapturous-agony ceased.

"Then have at it."

Trudy felt the massive warm cock head at her lips and gulped its spongy delight eagerly.

"Take a deep breath first," Mr. Lamb cautioned. Trudy did, then began sucking the huge, warm, male musk fragrant cock into her greedy mouth. Oh God, but she did want to swallow it.

The horrible, excruciatingly rapturous-agony had triggered her womb into spasms of cum explosions that continued with the entrance of his marvelous, masculine, delicious prick. She felt the massive hot marshmallow poke at her throat and she swallowed hastily while stuffing more of the luscious, erotic spigot down her craving throat.

It was an effort, but her throat muscles got the spongy, precious mass past her pharynx and into her oesophagus, then she needed a breath. She hummed her need and pressed against his searing belly. Mr. Lamb understood and withdrew his beginning to stiffen and widen and lengthen prick. Trudy exhaled and gulped another deep breath, then grabbing with her lips, drove his delicious pole down her throat.

Mr. Lamb was hardening up. Oh God, could this little girl suck a cock! The only time he had been hard in five years had been when he fucked her the other day; now she was stiffening his prick again. He grabbed her under the armpits and pulled .her to him until her head hung off the bed and he had a straight fuck-shot directly down her glutinous, satin-soft, hot throat. He bottomed his cock out by grinding his pubic hairs into her salivating searing lips, then withdrew for her to take a breath while he kneeled and mashed on her straining, voluptuous tits.

Oh Lord! His heart was thumping in his chest and the faint signs of a heart attack were beginning to ache in his chest, but he didn't care. He withdrew, allowed her to exhale, inhale, then roared his semi-hard prick back into the insane, insistent, ecstatic goodness. He was going to cum. God almighty! He was going to cum!

Trudy felt his prick fattening and lengthening, but she didn't care. She could also feel the rumblings of delicious, chloride cum as the old man's balls thumped and banged against her eyes. She wanted to be a part of his joy. She didn't want to be left alone. When his monstrous hammer retreated for her to exhale and take another breath, she knew the moment was at hand. "Plug in the thing!" she panted, "plug in the fucking thing." She took her breath, and waited until he bent down for the plug, then opened her throat and swallowed at the same time the unholy, salacious conflagration began in her cum oozing cunt.

Somewhere within the rapturous agony of orgasm-heaven Trudy perceived the old man's cock was jerking and spitting out gobs of boiling hot jism directly into her stomach. She couldn't taste the goodness, but it didn't matter. The passion storm of rapturous ecstasy that she was in was enough.

Pinwheels of surrendering, ungodly, lascivious enchantment engulfed her body. She couldn't breathe but didn't care. Her womb was in a cum frenzy and her sugar-cavern was gushing out pulsating streams of love's reward. She knew she should push on Mr. Lamb's belly and take a breath but the heavenly insatiable captivating glow would not allow her to move. The last she remembered was Mr. Lamb grabbing his chest and crying out, "My heart! My heart!" Then she blacked out.