Extending the MILF List Ch. 22

I groaned from deep in my chest. It seemed almost alarming that I could feel this sort of lust again and again without any declension of the desire to possess what was in my arms. Again and again, a woman stood before me naked and my cock responded with all necessary focus. The woman's lips were tight and lean, not lush and full and yet her body made me probe her mouth with my tongue. Her invitation was unmistakable. I held her like a broach holds a jewel, kissing her with my hard cock pressed vertically between us, hot and hard against the firm press of her tummy, hot on her cool skin.

Still, my mind throbbed with the numbers. Number two...of three and six as in six o'clock. I wanted to open my eyes and see what time it was because the luscious mood, the feel of her mounting need, her desire to be taken in every way that I required would shatter if bitch Ellen tapped her watch and arched a demanding eyebrow at me. Just the thought was nothing special, I tell you. On the other hand, surrendering to the anticipated urgency meant I would be mounted in this erotic female's tight ass sooner rather than later. I could hardly complain about that.

Theresa gave no indication that she had any need of her own for me to satisfy except the urge to be used as I wished, every inch of the skin she pressed against me gave every indication she so wanted to keep that contact. Indeed, as I pulled at her, I very much had to peel her off of my body. When I looked up from her taut nipples to her face, she was bitting her lower lip, her white teeth holding to it like the eaves of a roof.

I was still searching for the proper words when she hissed, speaking as though expelling the words with some violent effort.

"I want you in my ass. My god, I can't explain it but, I want it. I do. I have never allowed anyone to do this to me but now, I can't explain it, I can't explain. I want it. I need it, Mr. Duncan, fuck me in the ass!" Her plaintive pleas had a profound effect on my humanitarian heart. Somehow she knew my assent was predestined like a virgin's salvation, I turned, bent her over the counter and stood behind her once more. Her hands reached back and pulled at her lovely ivory ass and spread herself open for me, exposing her little tight rosebud above the swollen red lips of her drooling wet cunt.

I stared. For a moment, no one moved. I heard a click behind me and Ellen appeared with her purse in one hand and a small tube of lube in her other, offering it to me. I reached for it speaking my mind.

"Sure you don't want to oil up that tight little bolt hole yourself, Ellen?" I asked.

The bitch snatched back the tube and was on her knees behind Theresa before I could regret the offer. When she stretched out her tongue and licked the woman's ass hole, I shuddered.

"Oh fucking Christ!" Theresa shrieked, the knowledge of what was being done to her wrenched her voice into a tight twist that felt like a metal girder being punished beyond endurance. She did not relent, however. If anything, she pulled at her own ass cheeks harder, wider, tighter. The tone of it conveyed the internal compunction contending with the towering need in the redheaded woman, the one not licking the asshole, that is.

The sound must have spooked Ellen because she jerked away and hurriedly spewed lube onto the ass hole. Theresa gleeped and squeaked.

"Cold!"

"Don't worry, it will be hot enough soon." Ellen muttered, focusing on forcing her finger past the clinched sentry of the woman's ass hole. She seemed like an ass idiot because she took so fucking long to finally work her finger into the woman. I was ready to start tapping my foot. My cock had more patience than I did. I was ready to fuck Ellen in the ear when she pulled back her finger and looked at it and I saw the difficulty. She had a long fingernail on it. Fake it must have been and the cheap little tramp was worried about breaking it. I know, thinking about it makes it seem less monstrous for her to hesitate because breaking it off inside the said asshole would have been been a hazard that stopped my mounting of it. So I got her reluctance.

Ellen looked back at me and I wondered if this was a problem at other times when assholes needed greased and she volunteered. I didn't remember her having long nails...the nail must have been part of the pampering offered to the St. Vincent women this morning that yielded this chance to mount Theresa Fayre's fine ass. At that time, I was not so sanguine about this logic, grabbed Ellen by the hair and dragged her out of my way, grasped thirsty Theresa by the waist and positioned my cock against her body. I slid deep into her cunt with my rambunctious first trust. I mounted her but missed my intended mark. I ground us together and Theresa shuddered under my assault of her body. The penetration made her scream she was cumming and the way her cunt clamped down on my cock, I have to say I think she was sincere about her testimony.

Rude rube that I am, I yanked my cock out of her body and was trying to figure out how to keep my hands on her waist and still direct my cunt juice dripping cock into her ass at the same time. I felt Ellen's arms around my waist, then her hand grasped my cock and like a good team, I leaned and shuffled forward as she directed my flared cock head directly against Theresa's clinched asshole.

"Open up, little ass virgin." Ellen commanded, her voice full of lust and urgency, peering around me. I pulled on Theresa's waist and her hands pulled her hips wide which may not have helped. I arched my back and thrust my cock against her. She grunted and leaned into me. My cock was too hard to bend, a slab of steel ready to nail the meat to the counter. Then I felt the slightest give in her body and then a wet little pop and I was inside her, drilling down into her body, filling her ass with my cock.

"Oh my loving fuck god!" Theresa screamed, making no effort to render her words using her indoor voice. "Oh my god, so full, so full!" I slid into her, feeling the tight, dry grip of her ass surrender to my invasion. I drove into her until her ass was against me and still I did not relent. I pushed her against the counter. She shuddered, her body clinched and bucked. "Oh I never imagined, never knew, never understood, never dared hope oh god, I love it, fuck me, Sonny, pound my ass, make me ache for days so I remember this feeling!"

She seemed strangely lucid and that motivated me to pound that lucidity out of her. I wanted to puddle her, drive her into madness with my hands and cock and the filling feeling of my body riding her. I pulled back and thrust into her again. Theresa's response was Herculean. She bucked, swelling under me then ramming herself onto my cock. The feel of her tight ass surrounding my cock and gulping it down ran up my spine and exploded in my brain. The initial, rational and reasonable urge to go slow and build to ecstasy vanished with the feeling of the fine full bubble of her ass against me, pushing me literally onto my heels. Then she shifted away, pulling off my cock and slamming herself onto me again. I got the hint.

It is like jumping rope or sprinting through traffic...but way more fun to match a woman's bucking butt-fucking body. I did though. I got in step, crashing into her as she arched her ass back at me, and we danced into the crescendo of ecstasy intrinsic to fucking this woman's ass. I had mounted her and now it was time to ride her off into the rich, ribald sunset. So I fucked her ass. I rammed deep into her as her hips shifted back against me and let her arch away from me until my cock head nuzzled at the entrance of her ass.

"Fuck me, Sonny! God I love the feeling in my ass. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep, fuck me until I lose my fucking fucking fucking mind!"

Okay, the woman sounded nuts but sometimes you do exactly what a crazy person tells you. I fucked her hard and fast, ramming into her tight, fine ass, grinding her against the counter over and over until she bucked into an orgasm the first time. I frankly couldn't remember if I had cum inside her before or not, and was honestly wondering if I needed to save myself for marriage...er...for number three pussy waiting in the next house...the House of Pussy, or just let the growing, swelling, pulsing need to orgasm to run wild and rule me and fill this woman's ass with my cum.

I was so busy trying to calculate the right answer to the conundrum, my cock decided without me. I climaxed.

Oddly, I grunted with blinding pleasure. I felt the ecstasy behind my eyes, scintillating in my brain like I'd gargled a sparkler. I growled deep in my chest and then planted my cock deep in her ass and erupted. She was reversing motion as our rhythm demanded but I had lost interest in marching in step and held her against the counter, humping against that fine white ass, pumping cum deep into her body.

Also oddly, she seemed to realize I was pouring my loving little swimmers into her ass and that set off her orgasm. She screamed, "I'm cumming" with such conviction that I believed her. She flopped on the counter, bucking under me. The pleasure was so intense my nerves all went on strike just from overwork. I was convulsing deep in her ass, hands clinched on her waist. Her hands had released her cheeks and were gripping the island to keep her body from flying into orbit high over head. I rode the red-haired bitch with the intent that she kept calling for and finally responded to. I was inside her clinching ass, pumping cum into her but my mind was all white light and sprinkles.

"Oh blood hell!" The voice intruded on my suspended pleasure. I was floating, anchored to Theresa's ass by my hard cock. "I cannot shagging believe it!" I surfaced in the pool of divine light, like a genuinely new idea. I recognized Candice's voice. "Watching him mount her ass is as erotic as if it was me being mounted." I heard disgust in her voice. I opened my eyes. Theresa lay on the kitchen counter like a human sacrifice salvaged for supper. Her red hair streaked her back, flared around her pale white body, even flooding out to each side in a scarlet wash of erotic confession. I turned my head, the part of my body that was listening to my mind.

Candice stood at the end of the island presiding over my butt fucking ritual of the redhead. She lifted her eyes from the puddle of woman I had just fucked in the ass. Her eyes shone. Her hand was between her legs, rubbing furiously. She was panting, eyes bright as sapphires in a spotlight.

"I orgasmed, Sonny!" Her clipped, posh, British voice sounded incongruous in the naked kitchen. "Just from watching! I wasn't even touching my cunt, just watching her cum and I came, I swear I came!"

"You're touching yourself now." I muttered as wryly as I could manage.

She stopped immediately, face shocked but though her chin dropped, her eyes remained locked on me.

"May I cum again, master?" She squeaked, hand still between her spread legs.

"No!" The voice wasn't mine and good thing because I had no words to address the question much less the situation. "We need to be going we are fifteen minutes late already. Sonny, reel in that pussy hook of yours and tuck it away. We need to go."

I pulled my cork out of the red wine bottle I had just fucked into a fine vintage, and did as I was told, taking the time to clean and spritz my cock so it was table ready again. Ellen watched in cooperative impatience.

"We need to go." She said, texting furiously.

Ellen's voice was calm with a streak of tension and self-possession fighting with irate jealousy but made sense so I did as it suggested. I don't respond well to commands so everything was a suggestion to me or I got just stupidly stubborn. My brain didn't start accepting messages from the other senses besides the ears until we were walking out of the kitchen. I suddenly turned back to look at Theresa. I stopped and stared.

She lay naked on the counter, her body streaked with her red hair. Her body twisted a little and her head turned and lifted, showing me her eyes. I got that warm feeling all over when her eyes adored me. That female was surely in love. I could have her again. I love options and choice and all that other shit that free will claims to give us but often makes us crazy. In this case, the option to return to this woman's ass, hell, her whole body and give it a lot more cocky attention seemed just wonderful. I was in love with life.

"Hey bitch, let's go. Quit admiring your handiwork." Ellen's lawyer voice grated on my self-satisfaction, then her hand jerked me around by the elbow and we left out the front door.

"Will she be okay if we leave her like that?" I asked no one in particular, or maybe I was addressing the lustfulness I usually call a conscience.

"What's the worse that could happen? This is upper class real estate and you can't rape the willing so no, she may never be okay again until you get her aboard the Airtight Express." Ellen growled.

"I am not sure she'll ever get off the train if I let her mount it."

"She'll get dragged off by someone wanting to take her place, don't worry." Ellen said and I heard the promise in her voice.

"Not you, surely, Miss Altruist Ellen?"

"Fuck off, Sonny." She said, still growling. "I agree with Candice, that was unnerving. I hate that she could feel that and I didn't. God, did you see her?"

"Um, no, my eyes were closed." Ellen looked daggers at me like I had moved in close to eavesdrop on her soliloquy. Jeez, if she wanted to talk out loud speaking her thoughts she should know me well enough by now to know that I would feel neglected and intrude.

We got into the car and drove in silence punctuated only by Ellen's terse directions. It was fully dark by the time we arrived at a house set up a long slope from the street below.

"Drive up to the garage door. I ain't walking the hill in the dark." Ellen said, still growling. I was beginning to think she was hungry. All I had to feed her was cum though and I had the feeling it was already spoken for.

The real estate agent was a slender black woman whom Ellen introduced as Sonja Maxwell. She had that flawless black skin that made the vinyl dress she wore look like part of her. It was pink and long and sleek and if she had had a freckle it would have made a dot on the slick, gleaming dress that was as tight as skin. Her skin was as tight as the dress. Her tits, however, were like guns that she pointed at you and blew out the candle of my mind. I didn't look her in the eyes but merely stared. Her body was round, like a pole, and the tits were mounted on the curved dome of her chest so they pointed this way and that so one could point at me but not both at the same time. She would twist one way and the other so that first one boob then the other was aimed at me, as though she used them to gather visual data.

She had broad, bony black shoulders and lips that were so thick and rich it made her shoulders seem slender and slight. Her frame was angular with the tits attached and when she turned to begin the tour, her ass appeared testifying that she'd been built to fuck. Oh for Christ's sake who am I kidding. The essential attribute of a woman who is built to fuck is willingness and this woman had "please fuck me" oozing out of her like a stripper saying "give me all your money". There was no effort to hide the intent in her. Her eyes were rapacious and every time her eyes found mine, she licked those luscious, thick, chocolate lips and let her eye lids nearly close as though feeling my cock sliding down her throat. There was absolutely nothing demure about this woman. Clearly she presumed that I arrived with the intent to fuck her and she exuded the complete compliance with that intent and a threat inside that compliance that she would not respond positively to disappointment.

She talked. I know she did. Couldn't tell you a thing she said. My body was shaking and at first I thought I was cold, then owned up to the fear that it was fear, then had to acknowledge that I was shaking with lust, like a bitch in heat at a "I still have my balls" club meeting. The house was empty, unstaged and chilly. The pace of the tour gave me time to learn to walk while shaking. I kept thinking it would abate but Master Bates did not seem interested in our gathering so I walked behind the knot of pussy shaking like a alki needing a fifth of scotch.

I was paying so little attention that arriving in the master bedroom did not strike me as important despite the fact that it was the only room with any furniture in it at all. The room was hardly staged or subtle. The only furniture in the room was a huge bed with a brass head board of long brass poles and a selection of handcuffs dangling from the cross bar at the top.

By the time my mind grasped the significance of the bed, Sonja had been talking for a couple minutes and I had to run the dvr back to hear what she'd said.

"You ladies can go downstairs or wander about as you like. I am going to take care of Mr. Duncan as we agreed now." See how humble I am? She used my name and I didn't prick up my ears or ear up my prick either one. Ellen and the St. Vincents walked out of the room and I felt distinctly alone. The woman turned her back to me and clutched the back of her head with her hands while turning to look over her shoulders.

"Momma, it's time." She smiled at me. "Unzip me, won't you, Mr. Duncan?"

I gawked. The door to the closet opened and a woman cruised into the room. I say "cruised" because she was built like a battleship...not fat, well, not really but wide abeam. She had thighs the size of Ellen. She wore stocking that swished and hissed as she walked and I swear she moved so slowly because if she had attained any velocity at all the friction would have started her thighs smoking.

She was built as though someone wanted you to think of a stylized island with the little palm tree planted on the crest. Her hips and thighs were so large, she seemed to be perched on them. Her tummy was small, slender even, almost slim, flat with the line down the middle that makes you look closer, certain the line is pointing to something important. It was, her cunt. She appeared to be two women, one on bottom and an entirely different woman from the waist up, although her tits were voluminous and large too but dwarfed by the size and scale of her hips and thighs. She wasn't lean in any sense but outsized in the ass and thighs and nearly normal everywhere else.

"Mr. Duncan?" Sonja's casual voice broke into my reverie. I had been undressing the woman she referred to as "Momma" which was stupid since she wore a thong covering her cunt and a bikini top that gathered her tits up but what held the eyes was the spreading splotches of dampness spreading from the peaked crests of both nipples.

"Momma?" I repeated the world. For a moment I quailed, my body had this day been sucked and fucked far beyond imagination and I had the fleeting fear that I was used up and could no longer answer the bell. But my cock snorted with derision at the idea and got hard. The large woman sat on the bed and scooted back onto it, lay back and lifted her swollen legs, exposing her pussy for us, or would have if she hadn't had a hand inside the thong, massaging it.

"Mr. Duncan, unzip me?" Sonja's voice caught me by the nape of the neck and shook me, no, dummy not literally, voices cannot do that but she did get my attention. My hard cock restored my self-confidence.

"Ms. Maxwell, if I am going to fuck you and your mother, I think you should call me Sonny, don't you?"

Sonja smiled and closed her eyes and shook her head.

"If you don't mind, I will stick with Mr. Duncan. Will you unzip me?" I reached for the zip on the back of the pink dress and drew it down. It was so tight, the zipper resisted. It was short and apparently only held on a drape that covered her tits and made her table ready. When the zipper released, she removed the cape that made the dress socially acceptable from the high slope of her breasts, cups that cuddled them from the top while the main architecture of the turquoise dress buttressed them from below. She tossed it away like she felt disdain for the conventions of civilized society that demanded she not show off her magnificent tits. She turned and showed them to me and I hated civilization but loved her disdain.