No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 16

"Gene, help me, please," he moaned, and the gale-force winds of her arousal swept her fear away. She clawed at her lips, pulling them aside to clear his way.

"Ugh," he growled as her curtains parted, and he felt the path before him opening. He looked down through the spreading cleft of her ass, and watched eagerly as she widened to swallow the fat, purple head of his cock. No longer concerned with his aim, he transferred a second hand to her haunches and pulled her toward him.

"Oh God, Archie, it's huge," she squalled as the boy's prick bulldozed into her pussy, filling that hot cavern beyond her expectations. He mistook her exclamation and shoved harder, driving her hips forward and nearly toppling the girl onto the couch. She tried to lean back into his thrust to meet him, but gasped, "Oh, God, wait, give me a minute to get used to you."

He steadied her and helped her regain her balance. He paused, panting, mentally pawing the ground between her legs like a stallion, and waited for her to recover. He was accustomed to this sort of reaction; they all said the same thing, sooner or later; something like, oh God give it to me, then, when you gave it to them, oh my God, wait, stop giving it to me for a minute. Mommy had told him to be patient. She had showed him how to go slow at first, so he could go faster later, and she had let him practice on her friends, till he got it right, more or less.

Imogene was dazzled by the wickedly throbbing presence within her. Never in her life had she even imagined such a feeling, such filling sensations, of being extended far beyond the limits of her endurance, and, yet, also, an aching longing for more. She was incredulous, overwhelmed with the presence of the massive boy inside her, and she wiggled her hips tentatively to determine if she could move at all. He was huge, immense, gigantic, and he pressed against her wet walls like an expanding locomotive, and in her mind, her imagination enlarged him twenty fold. He stretched her tissues, and she tried to relax to accommodate him. Her brain was spinning with delirious passion, and she throbbed with a ravenous hunger to consume the boy in his entirety. She was woman, spelled, W, O, M, A, N, and she wanted a man, she needed a man to fill her voids, to occupy the remote, untested corners and folds of her space, to take her fully and completely, and she pushed back toward the instrument of her fulfillment and moaned rapturously when the shaft shouldered into her expanding aperture. Oh God, she thought deliciously as the huge ram battered down the doors of her resistance; the bigger the man, the better the woman who satisfies him, and one of her fingers slipped off her lip to stroke his progressing column of flesh.

"Uhhhh," she gasped, "slow down, baby; take it easy. You're gonna split me in two if you go too fast."

Archie grunted and ignored her pleas. Already, he could feel the walls of her vagina spasming along his cock; rhythmic rippling of secret muscles that disclosed her desires and contradicted her protests. He glanced down and estimated that a third of his length was buried in the girl. He pulled back, retracting a portion, and readied himself for a fresh assault.

"Noooo, don't stop," she wailed as her vacated spaces deflated and collapsed. It felt like someone had pulled the plug on her and her lights were going out. She reacted instinctively, and her hand flew to his slippery shaft to stop his retreat.

He laughed grimly, because he was into the serious part of the business now, and snorted, "I'm big."

She buried her face in the cushion to muffle her wanton cries and moaned, "I know, I know," while her fingers frantically masturbated the exposed part of the boy's massive cock. She reached back further, between her legs, straining to extend her arm sufficiently, and smeared her juice and the Prolong cream along the length of his shaft. Sweet Jesus, she marveled, when finally she reached the base and felt his dangling sack, so much left, and, as she stroked him, she felt him thrusting slowly into her channel.

"Yessss," she hissed, "I want it. I want all of it. Give it all to me, dammit." As she spoke, her fingers flew up and down, whipping her juices to a froth and stimulating the boy past patience.

"Here comes cock for you, Mrs. Justice," the boy grunted, rudely reminding her of her husband.

His hands gripped her jutting flanks roughly and held her pinned, while his massive cock, veins popping darkly purple along its distended length, bored into her vitals. It was like helping mamma thread a curtain on a rod, he recalled with a sneer of superiority. The pocket's too small, and the curtain keeps bunching up on the rod, so you have to pull the rod back a little and unbunch the curtain, before you can push the rod all the way through the pocket to the other end. He pulled back a little to unbunch the walls of Imogene's tiny vagina, and then pushed back, aiming for the depths of her tight hole. Then, he did it again, and again.

Imogene gasped for breath. She felt like a worm being threaded onto a hook that was ten times too big. She gulped and looked toward her belly, half expecting to see Archie's progress bulging past her navel. God, he is huge, she exclaimed to herself, astounded at her body's ability to admit the boy. Her vaginal muscles were going berserk, jerking spasmodically, twitching erratically, totally unaccustomed to such stimulation and incapable of reacting normally to his presence. She pulsed and convulsed and throbbed, gripping and releasing the massive probe in an utterly debauched massage, and she tried to push the thought of Rufus toward the back of her mind. Poor Rufus, dear Rufus, she remembered vaguely, poking his thing at her like a kid poking a skunk with a stick, racing to his conclusion and running off to leave her, more often than not, spinning toward earth, out of control, like a kite without a tail. What had she been thinking when she first lifted her skirts for him; worse, what had she been thinking when, having lifted them once, she decided to stay around and lift them again? Of course, she acknowledged, as the final inches of Archie's massive shaft bored into her consciousness and shattered her reminiscence, I had to have a ring by spring.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," she chanted as he pumped deeper and deeper into her vault.

Her fingers teased him, coaxed him, and, then, suddenly, there they were, his balls, dangling in their sack, and she felt the gap between his base and the wide-stretched lips of her pussy closing at last. Her vagina pulsed a violent welcome to the intruder, and she nearly fainted from the sensation as they closed.

Archie felt more than saw Imogene accept the complete entry of his throbbing cock. He shut his eyes and pushed until he felt the tight muscles of her butt smack against his belly, and he could go no further. He hung there, imbedded in the girl, feeling the relentless, spastic churning of her pussy, and he shuddered involuntarily. He was near to losing his grip; close to washing his cares away in a deluge of cum, but he knew his mother would be mad if he was too quick. He bit his lip and squinched his eyes tightly closed in an attempt to slow his steed to a gentler canter.

From her station in the dressing room, Nancy watched the proceedings with intense interest. She had been amazed when Imogene coaxed another erection out of the kid; something that rarely happened, and, now, she was quick to realize that Archie, ever the hair trigger, was on the verge of emptying the six chambers in his revolver all at once in spite of the Prolong. She was determined to prevent that unfortunate result and reached for the microphone to give him some distraction.

"Houston, Houston, this is Apollo Ten, we have docking. I repeat, we have docking." She turned her face from the microphone, so he couldn't hear her laughing, and watched the boy's reaction on the monitor.

"Huh, huh?" he croaked, his head wobbling around like a ball on a spring.

"I said, `we have docking, Houston,'" she repeated patiently and without a snicker.

"Huh," the boy replied vaguely, then, catching on, "Oh, yeah, right, mamma, we're docked."

"Take it easy, son, don't rush things. You remember how I showed you before?"

"Yeah, but she's tight, mamma, real tight."

"Shit, Archie, don't give me that `tight' excuse. They're all tight for you, sonny. You only know two kinds of women; them that's tight and them that's too tight. You know that, so just hold your horses in there."

"But she's really tight; not like them others."

"Get a grip on yourself, boy," Nancy snapped harshly.

Imogene felt like a slab of cheap beef on a meat counter, but she didn't care. Her pussy was churning its way toward a cataclysmic orgasm, and she didn't care much if the boy was there or not when the skyrockets started going off. Finally, she thought, finally, after all the sexy talk about her Billy and her nude, erotic dancing and, of course, that thing she did with, no, to Nancy, finally, after all that arousal, she was going to get the relief she had to have.

"OK, OK," he responded without concealing his growing irritation. "Did you cream her up like you're supposed to?"

"Of course," Nancy answered smoothly.

"Well, then," he began, and, to make certain, he withdrew till just the rim of the head remained in the girl, and he examined the exposed length of his cock for tell-tale streaks of the familiar cream, "what are you worried about?"

"Who's worried? I just have about five or six minutes of tape left on the reel, and I don't want you finishing up with tape left. Understand?"

"Yeah," he muttered in disgust at the pointless interruption, and, turning his attention back to Imogene, he whispered, "Hang on, Mrs. Justice, here comes cock again."

"Oooooffff," Imogene whoofed as the boy slammed into her, driving his full length into her pussy in one fierce lunge. Immediately, without giving her time to adjust or recover, he withdrew almost totally and, then, he slammed her again.

"Ooofff, oh my God, oooofff, oh my God, ooooffff, the girl chanted to the boy's driving rhythm. Her pussy was on fire, thrilling to the assault, squeezing, clutching, clinging spasmodically to the thundering, fat cock inside her, and she teetered on the brink of oblivion.

Archie drove his spike into her like a demon; his hands, like claws, clamped onto her hips, jerking her toward him with tugs timed to the cadence of his thrusts. Jesus, her mind was reeling, images of organs colliding cataclysmically, enmeshing, consuming, were painted, vividly red and orange, on the blank canvass of her lust, and, in that moment, she gasped as the Truth revealed itself to her. Cock is Power, Cock is Power, the chant repeated itself in her brain in an endless cycle, as he filled her repeatedly, and the fullness of his presence in the deep void between her legs obliterated every sensation but the throbbing in her loins.