Ultimate Power

Following this deliciously protracted oral exercise, Damon rolled Mrs. Olson onto her back and gave her sweet pussy a well-earned working over, spending considerable time titillating her aged clit with his lips, tongue, and fingers wetted with his spittle. He paused in his labors of love to gaze upon her face. She looked transported, her eyes unfocused, dazzled. She had never felt anything so sinfully thrilling. It was as if the young man's mouth and tongue were a sixty-piece orchestra, creating a symphony of sexual delights. His dexterous tongue worked anobligatoof thrilling trill notes upon her clit. She became giddy. He then took her into a swirling vortex, as he sucked her labia and penetrated her deeply with his tongue while naughtily fingering her asshole. She writhed and moaned like a bitch in heat, spasmodically squeezing his head between her thighs, as he ate out her pussy with no let-up until she'd begun laughing and sobbing, climaxing spectacularly, several times in a row.

But at the end of it all, her vagina, alas, was still too dry for what he'd planned next.

He gave her a little while to recoup, then asked: "Do you have any lubricant, my love?"

"I have some baby oil," she said, and went straight into the bathroom to fetch it from the cabinet below the sink.

Damon had Mrs. Olson get on all fours and began liberally applying the oil to her voluptuous body.

There came a knock on the door. It swung open and Mr. Olson poked his head inside. Like a deer transfixed in the headlights, he stood with mouth gaped in astonishment. There before him knelt his wife of forty-three years – his Irene -- naked as a courtesan, as this young black buck rubbed oil in a most sensuous manner over her dangling breasts, belly and bottom.

"Everything all right?" asked Mr. Olson, solicitously, his head buzzing like a swarm of bees.

"Yes, perfect, thanks," said Damon, spending what Mr. Olson felt was an inordinate amount of time massaging his wife's lovely tits.

Mr. Olson looked on speechlessly as Mrs. Olson now sat up, poured oil into her own hands, and began applying it slowly -- even a bitamorously, he thought -- all along Damon's enormous black member, up and down, down and up, from the giant hairy balls to the massively engorged and shiny cock head, which she seductively massaged with her fingers and cupped palm.

As if coming out of a trance, Mr. Olson stammered, "Well, I–I-I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Not at all," Damon said magnanimously while encouraging Mrs. Olson onto her back. As she lay winsomely spread-eagled, looking up at him with lewd anticipation, Damon got between her thighs and began slowly rubbing the tip of his twitching cock teasingly, up and down between her lubricious pussy lips. "It was really most kind of you to check on us," he said to Mr. Olson. "And now, if you wouldn't mind closing the door on your way out?"

"Oh! Well, why, certainly," Mr. Olson responded. He shut the door and wandered back to the living room, fuzzy headed and not a little disoriented.

Sula noted her father's look of distraction. "What's wrong, daddy?"

He pointed vaguely toward the bedroom. "I ... I got the distinct impression just now that your young man was preparing to have sex with your mother."

"Damon? Oh Daddy," Sula giggled, "how absurd! You and your hyperactive imagination."

"They're merely getting acquainted, Charles," chuckled Reverend Chatterton. "Relax and have another drink."

"Yes," Mr. Olson said a bit tremulously, "I suppose I will."

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Damon knelt 'twixt Mrs. Olson's motherly thighs with his huge cunt destroyer in hand. "You have a very thoughtful husband," Damon opined as he notched his cock at the verge of her well-lubricated pussy.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Mrs. Olson said, looking down at Damon's enormous tool with a tinge of trepidation.

Damon inserted the head of his cock just a wee little bit inside her mature honey pot.

"Oh, my goodness!" Sula's mother exclaimed, feeling herself decidedly being entered.

Damon leaned back to enjoy the spectacle of penetration, one of his favorite pastimes, in fact. He advanced his pelvis, cautiously easing himself inside her, just a couple of inches at first. He observed her blissful facial reaction as she felt her love channel being stretched wide for the first time in God knew how long.

"Do you like the way that feels?" Damon asked solicitously. "Doesn't that feel nice?" he asked, now sheathing his cock in her about a third of the way.

"Oh, it most certainlydoes," said Mrs. Olson. She then suddenly gave out a high-pitched,"Oh!"as Damon abruptly slid about three quarters of his length into her – that is to say, a good nine or ten inches.

Damon leaned down and gave Mrs. Olson a slobbering kiss, swabbing the inside of her mouth with his tongue, as he initiated the deliciously sensuous act of slow fucking.

He asked her, "Do you know, my precious, what we are doing?"

"Ooo, yes," she said, starting to pant, "It feels like we're making babies."

"But you can't have babies anymore, can you?"

"No," she said, disappointedly pouting.

"We're doing something much better, though, than making babies, aren't we? We'refucking! Just for the fun of it!" he said, giving her several shallow strokes followed by a glissando slide all the way back inside.

"Ohhhhh!"Mrs. Olson exclaimed.

"I'm fucking you in your pussy," Damon said. "Say it, darling, say it for me:You're fucking me in my pussy."

"You're fucking me in my pussy,"she echoed, thrilling to his behemoth cock moving back and forth in her.

"Have you ever been fucked by anyone but your husband before?"

"No," she said, thinking hard, entirely new to the practice of adultery, "I don't believe I ever have."

"Not even before you were married?"

"No, I never did. Although," she suddenly recalled, "I used to masturbate little Peter French after class when we were in high school together. And sometimes he'd put his finger up inside me and wiggle it until I'd nearly pass out."

As he visualized a young Mrs. Olson engaged in these nascent erotic exploits, Damon's cock gave a sudden lurch, causing her to gasp."Ohh!That feelsso-o-o good!Your penis isso-o-olarge!"

"Yes," agreed Damon, " itislarge, and I'm going to fuck you with it even deeper now. Would you like me to fuck you deeper?"

"Oh yes,please," the good woman answered enthusiastically.

He swept his arms under her thighs and lifted her buttocks off the mattress. Then, pubes to pubes, he rocked up and down in her, grinding her pussy with his cock, like a pestle into a mortar. She rotated her hips instinctively as he quickened the pace of their coitus.

"Ohhh," she moaned, "Ohhh-ho-ho-ho ...you're getting into mes-o-o-odeep! I don't think I can take one more inch of you into me."

He took her left hand and placed it between their bellies. "Feel me, my love. Feel my cock fucking you."

Mrs. Olson's fingers touched his gigantic, slimy black snake as it slid slickly back and forth between her everted pussy lips.

"Ohhh,"she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Does it arouse you, dear, to feel us together like this? To feel my penis moving inside your pussy, fucking you?"

"Oh yes-s-s-s," she answered rapturously, flinging her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers. They kissed feverishly. He put his hands over the top of her head, clutching her tightly, as he fucked her brutally hard. They moaned into each other's mouths, their tongues cavorting like two slithering eels. The sound of flesh slapping flesh was coming at quickening intervals.

Mr. Olson, who had been lurking by the bedroom door for the past several minutes, heard the sounds and eased the door open for a look. He was accosted by the sight of his wife's sweet old anus being harshly spanked by Damon's big black balls. Mr. Olson eased the door shut and sank down on the floor outside the bedroom, nursing his drink in befuddlement.

After several minutes of this exquisite coupling, without dislodging himself, Damon rolled both of them over, putting Mrs. Olson in an upright straddle position. With his encouragement, she began raising and lowering herself, tentatively at first, then faster and faster, pausing at times to push down as hard as she dared, thrilling to the feeling of being thoroughly impaled on his stiff stander. Damon lay motionless, allowing her to do all the work, delighting in the sight of her massive swaying tits, her face flushed red with sexual exertion, her aged white pussy moving up and down on his glistening, young ebony cock. She leaned forward, allowing him to feast on her sweat-dripping nipples, while she humped his cock harder and faster. He parted her ass cheeks and fingered her asshole. He could feel her tension mounting as she careened toward climax, waiting until the most strategic moment before sticking his finger up her ass.

"OH! OH!"she cried, her body spasmodically jerking.

"Cum, darling," Damon encouraged as he now began thrusting up into her, "cum on my cock-kuh."

"Ohh! UNNNH! OH MY GOD! OHHH!"Mrs. Olson cried, her body violently spasming as she spun off into a salvo of orgasms. Damon felt a squirt of warm liquid hit his abdomen and realized delightedly that in her excitement she'd momentarily lost sphincter control and leaked a bit of urine.

Finally, as Damon felt his cock and balls ready to explode, he announced, "I'm going to cum inside you, okay?" It was, of course, a completely rhetorical question. And then, when his penis did erupt, he shouted,"FUCK! UNNH! YOU BITCH! WHORE! UNH! CUNT! OHHH!"

"OH GOD! OH-HO-HO!"Mrs. Olson sobbed, feeling his cock thunderously jettisoning its sperm against the walls of her pussy. She grabbed his face in her two hands and hungrily pressed her lips into his.

It was at this precise moment that Mr. Olson, curious as to the source and meaning of all the commotion, opted to reenter the bedroom. He caught his wife and the young black man in the throes of passion, at the absolute pinnacle of their joint climaxes.

Mr. Olson's eyes fixed themselves on Damon's great, ropey-vesseled, ebony cock deeply embedded in his wife's vintage vagina. The monstrous thing was contracting powerfully in muscular waves, like an anaconda caught in the violent act of disgorgement. With every fresh pulsation of Damon's cock, another wave of thick white cum oozed from her pussy.

Mr. Olson clapped his hands to his head in shock and disbelief, his mind madly screaming,CHRIST! CHRIST! WHAT IN GOD'S GOOD NAME IS HAPPENING?!

But within moments of being back in Damon's mystical presence, Mr. Olson began to feel considerably comforted, even serene. The fact that his ostensible future son-in-law was copiously inseminating his wife – well, it seemed quite acceptable, just part of the natural order of things. With his mind now much comforted, Mr. Olson quietly closed the door and retreated to the living room for another highball.

Mrs. Olson and Damon lay conjoined in the afterglow, luxuriating in each other's arms, blissfully exchanging tonguing kisses until the last drop of sperm had dripped from his cock onto the inner silken folds of her love nest. He withdrew his penis and the vaginal introitus filled immediately with his thick, white seminal fluid, which then spilled out and slowly dripped down the lips of her pussy to cover her asshole.

"Oh, my goodness!" she said, wiping a puddle of sweat from her splendid tits, "I'm all sopping wet."

"Well, that's only to be expected," Damon explained, fondling her steamy breasts with one hand while stimulating her spermy cunt with the other. "We've just got through with a good bit of fucking."

"Yes... yes, I suppose we have," she replied, dreamy-eyed, in a fucked out, post coital haze.

They cuddled together for a brief respite, a languid interlude of gentle, soulful kisses and fondling of genitals that grew more heated by degree. Their tongues again entwined and explored the hot, moist recesses of each other's mouths.

Damon turned Mrs. Olson on her side with her back to him. She shivered as his fingers gently wended their way from her neck to her shoulder, then along her spine to the swale of her lower back. He caressed her luscious, silken buttocks. She craned her neck around and their lips locked. He rolled onto his back and gently scooted her on top of him, so that her back lay sprawled on his chest and belly. He parted her thighs and insinuated his now quite hardened cock into her now quite moistened pussy. He passed one arm across her to grasp a breast and toy with her nipple as he started his thrusting. The fingers of his other hand found her clit and began expertly frigging her. Mrs. Olson began to whimper and moan as her excitement mounted. Her brain entered a fevered state such as she'd never experienced before. With all her sensory organs fully engaged and on fire, she spun out of control. The arm across her chest restraining her only added to her sense of helplessness. She grew alarmed and began to cry out. Damon clapped his free hand over her mouth to quiet her as he continued pumping her with ever mounting passion.

She became delusional. Her mind, confused by lust and sensory overload, tried to make sense of it all by concocting an explanatory fantasy. She imagined herself the chaste and virtuous Queen Mother of an ancient kingdom overrun by African barbarians, now being violated in her marital bed by their fierce, young warrior chieftain. To add to her shame and humiliation, her rape was being carried out in full view of his entire army. Their leader, once sated, would naturally turn her over to his warriors as the most coveted of the spoils of war. She could see them all now, watching from the shadows, their eyes burning hot and bright, their hard, black, chiseled bodies covered in sweat and blood, their inordinately large members under their loincloths, hardening with desire, each awaiting his turn to ravish her alabaster, voluptuous body. She would be serially raped, endlessly, day after day, pumped full of black, barbarian sperm, while her husband, the King, would be made to abjectly kneel in chains, forced to watch his wife's disgrace and sexual degradation.

Mrs. Olson didn't settle down again until Damon had injected her with his seed and relinquished his grip on her, both mentally and physically.

Checking the time, Damon suggested they shower and return to the living room. But while showering, another hankering for Mrs. Olson took possession of him. He stood behind Mrs. Olson, she there in her shower cap, in the shower stall, warm water cascading down on both of them, his hands roaming her soapy tits and belly and ass. He turned her to him. He lifted her thigh and placed her foot on a marble ledge, then slipped his rock-hard member up into her suds-slick pussy. The muscles of her vagina spasmodically clutched his cock. The young black man and the aging white matron kissed hotly amidst the steamy mist, tongues engaging in innumerable caresses. With her back flat up against the tile wall and their fingers entwined on either side of her head, he thrust up into her at a frantic pace, getting into her nearly all the way to the hilt. The shower stall's walls reverberated with their grunts and groans and cries of passion. Mrs. Olson came powerfully, five, six, seven times, until her legs went wobbly. She sank down on the shower stall's marble seat and took him into her mouth, massaging his balls with both hands while sucking his cock and circling the tip with her tongue. She took the first couple of jets of sperm in her mouth, but then let the rest of it spew over her face and tits. She looked up at him, open mouthed, gargling the water and cum together, which he thought made her look a bit depraved and, therefore, very alluring. He ran his hands over her face and breasts to wipe away the sperm, then delivered a tender kiss on her lips.

Minutes later, after they'd toweled off and gotten dressed and she'd re-applied her make-up, Damon and Mrs. Olson returned to the living room where everyone greeted them cheerfully as if they'd just returned from a honeymoon in Bermuda.

"Well, welcome back," said Mr. Olson, the buzzing in his brain increasing triple fold in Damon's immediate presence. "Did you two have a good time?"

"You'll have to ask the lady," Damon smiled, deferentially.

"Lovely!" Mrs. Olson tittered. "Simply lovely! I had a great many orgasms."

"Very satisfying, wasn't it?" Damon asked.

"Oh yes, yesvery," Mrs. Olson cooed. "In fact, I'm ashamed to say, I lost control over myself so badly I even squirted urine a couple of times. Didn't I, Damon?"

"Yes," Damon said, "when you were climaxing. You were very naughty."

"You had me do a great many naughty things."

"And you seemed to enjoy every one of them."

"Oh yes, I enjoyed them so very much. In fact, I can't ever remember having enjoyed myself so." She looked at Damon and asked, "What's the past tense of 'cum', dear?"

To which he replied, "Came."

" Oh yes, of course," she giggled. She then turned to the others and said, "Hecamedown my throat and it was very yummy. I swallowed every drop."

After a half hour of such lovely reminiscences, and a dozen corny anecdotes about Sula's childhood, Damon noticed that Mrs. Olson, seated beside him on the sofa, had scarcely taken her eyes off him, was, in fact, massaging his cock the entire time through his pants. He felt a sudden yen to have her again.

"I am embarrassed to admit this," he said rising, "but I never got around to fucking Mrs. Olson doggy style." He looked at Mr. Olson. "If you don't mind, sir?"

"Why no. Go on. There's no time like the present."

"Procrastination is the thief of time," the Reverend Chatterton chimed in sagely.

"Thank you for being so understanding."

Damon offered Mrs. Olson his hand. She rose from her seat with eager anticipation as if invited to dance.

Damon stopped. "I hesitate to make her leave the party again after having been gone so long." Then he added brightly, "I know! Why don't we do it right here?"

"Why not, indeed?" exclaimed Violet Chatterton, excitedly clapping her hands.

"By all means!" seconded her husband, the Right Reverend Chatterton.

"Sula?"

"Oh, well, Damon, you know you don't have to stand on ceremony with me. Besides," Sula added with a breezy laugh, "it wouldn't make any difference if Ididobject, would it?"

"No," Damon admitted frankly, "it wouldn't. No difference at all."

Everyone laughed heartily at this splendid joke.

"Mrs. Olson," Damon said, "if you would be so kind as to remove your underwear?"

"Would you prefer that I undress entirely?" she asked.

"Lady's choice."

"Then I will!" And with that, Mrs. Olson took off all her clothes and laid them on the ottoman.

"What splendid breasts!" exclaimed Reverend Chatterton. "I had no idea."

"And a nice, big, round, spankable bottom to boot!" declared Violet.

"Now," Damon said, addressing Mrs. Olson, "if you would kindly kneel on that club chair the Reverend is sitting on."

Taking the hint, the Reverend stood up and gallantly yielded his chair to Mrs. Olson.

"Oh, Sula," Damon said, caressing Mrs. Olson's ass and running his fingers along her pussy slit, "if you would be so kind as to get the baby oil off your mother's dresser? She tends to be a little dry down there."

"Of course," Sula said, dashing away. She returned in an instant with the oil.

"Thank you, my sweetheart, my angel," Damon said kissing her lightly on the lips. He poured some of the oil into Mrs. Olson's cupped hand. "Now, my dear, if you would do me the honors?"