Once, Twice, Seven Times A Fucker


With those words, Hilda took the squirt bottle of mustard and began to shake it. Then without warning, she squeezed it, covering Denny's still semi-hard pecker with a thick stream of mustard, beginning at its big head and extending down the full length of him to the base of his manhood. Denny wheezed in surprise as he caught his breath. Next came the ketchup. Hilda's titan titties jiggled as she laughed at what she was doing. Holding the squirt bottle upside down and pointing it at the head of his cock, she applied pressure to the bottle and a stream of thick ketchup jetted from its tip and onto the tip of his penis. Hilda kept squeezing and moved in a downward arc as the blood red substance made a trail that ran parallel to the yellow one along his slightly shrinking member. The two condiments felt cold against his heated flesh that was still warmed and practically steaming from their fourth fuck, this time just putting the finishing touches on a doggie style romp in the sack. Denny felt tuckered out from it, but predictably Hilda was still raring to go and hungry for more dick.

Hilda's saucy voice sounded amazingly enticing and wanting as she sang in a lovely cabaret singer voice, "Oh, I want to be an Oscar Mayer Wiener! It's the thing I really want to be! Cause if I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener, everyone would be in love with me!"

After this, she burst into a cacophony of laughter and threw the bottles carelessly to the floor. Then she leaped up and down on the bed in a spell of giddy schoolgirl glee. Hilda's boobs, her enormously beautiful globes, leaped as well. They bounced and jounced and her big left one slapped her noisily in the cheek. Hilda ignored it and fell between Denny's legs.

"Now for lunch!" Hilda squealed, roaring with laughter again and letting her tongue dip into the thick goo of the condiments that totally covered his dick.

She lapped and licked at them, going from the head of his phallus down to the base, until finally it was tidily clean of the ketchup and mustard, but shining with her saliva.

"That was tasty," Hilda said, smiling broadly and kissing his semi- swollen length. "I know where I want that weenie this time. Mr. Wiener can slide in between the two biggest buns there are. You know I am not talking about my ass either, baby, don't you?"

"I know exactly what you are talking about, Miss Humper," Denny said in a mockingly formal voice as she went to her back on the bed, her big boobs towering up from her chest like mountains. "I see the two biggest places that a weenie could slide between, baby."

The busty Humper's breasts were so majestic and breathtaking in their girth and weight and their firm, but soft skin. Denny was at full mast by now and he couldn't wait. The twin mountains before him were a climber's greatest feat. He poised and lowered his body down, careful not to put all of his weight on her rib cage. Denny's ten inch hard-on gently touched the bottom of her bosom.

"Now slide that big salami in here between my big milkers," Hilda coaxed him in a husky voice as she pushed her mammoth breasts smoothly apart and allowed his cock a smooth passage into the canal of her cavernous cleavage. "I'm ready for a good tittiefucking, baby."

Denny beamed as he brought his oversized part between her even more oversized parts. It was not a smile that reflected everything, however. He thought of beer and milk and hot dogs. He thought about beauty and the superficiality of appearance and the crassness of commercialism. He laughed inwardly at the strangeness of a woman being carried along by the size of her assets, even as he gauged himself and slid even further between them. Strange things to think about before engaging in sex act number five, but they engaged him and danced within his mind.

"What are you waiting for, baby?" the blonde-haired lady cooed softly as she furrowed her brow and touched him.

"Oh, nothing," Denny said, his face stretched into a cringe.

And so he began thrusting, in and out between her costly assets, absentmindedly waiting. He was waiting for the orgasmic explosion, the explosion of the American Dream.


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