Kelly, Down the Rabbit Hole Pt. 01

Kelly seemed to be almost in trance. The movie and David's own machinations clearly had her worked into an explosive state; her chest was flushed dark red, and her hips had begun to reflexively roll and press against David's slowly moving hand. But it was clear she was still waiting for something, not yet ready to break into the main event.

Although slightly nervous about breaking the spell, David decided to break the silence and press his luck. As the brunette once again switched from one dick to the next, David whispered in her ear. "Which ones of those cocks turns you on more?"

After only a brief pause, she answered with urgency, certainty: "THAT one." David looked up. It was Mr. Thick that had won the night.

Jesus that's hot, thought David. He was nearly out of breath now, so completely aroused that he didn't think he could wait another moment without sinking his cock into his wife. With luck, the scene now shifted; Mr. Thick sat down on the couch, and the brunette backed up against him, hovering over his huge dick. As she sank down on it, Kelly drew in a sharp breath between her teeth, and grabbed David's thigh hard, nails digging into the flesh. The brunette slowly began to bob up and down on Mr. Thick; the shot moved into close-up, revealing her pussy obscenely distended as they dragged up and down his girth.

"Babe, do that me... do that to me." David knew this drill. He sat up and shifted himself on the couch, and Kelly straddled his lap, back to him, eyes still glued to the movie. Her pussy audibly sloshed as she sank into him.

She was electric warmth; David wondered how he last even a minute. It got worse; the brunette on screen had begun to bounce vigorously on the huge dick, and Kelly of course did exactly the same. It was so clear to him now - in her head, Kelly was that woman. And it was the idea that it was her, and her soaking pussy, that was bouncing on that tree trunk of a cock that had her in what could only be described as an altered state.

By now the other dude had taken a seat to the couple's left, and reached over to rub the brunette's clit furiously as she worked up and down Mr. Thick. So David did the same, rubbing hard, barely able to keep his fingers in place given the gushing wetness and Kelly's slamming up and down on his thighs.

He could no longer hold out, but it didn't matter, because neither could Kelly. For the very time, she took her eyes of the screen, bending her down, eyes closed, somewhere far away in her fantasy world. Her orgasm overtook her not as a lightning bolt but rather as a tidal wave. She gave a long, guttural, high-pitched moan that sounded more like shock and fear than anything else, as if she were afraid about what was about to overtake her. And then she simply surrendered to hit, her hips methodically moving up and down his length, his fingers still flicking firmly across her clit, accomplished by a low cry in unison with that rhythm: "oh YES, oh YES, oh YES, oh YES..."

David had emptied himself, his own orgasm lost in the spectacle of his wife's bliss, until at last, after what seemed like an eternity, her own pace slowed, and then finally collapsed in one last wave. She collapsed backward into David, now entirely limp, without a drop of tension in her bed. Her head rolled back, again, against her should. Her eyes were still closed, and she was still somewhere very very far away.