hot pussy juice poured out around the deeply buried head of his prick and splashed along its full length like a raging ocean of lust. Her twat walls rippled in great waves as the white liquid cum spilled out around the thick base of his whang to mat down his cock hair in sticky clumps. The pink fleshy cockhole contracted again and again and she screamed her pleasure with deep-throated echoes of fuck joy.
Feeling the hot, white juice of her climax around his prick was all it took to set off that climbing cycle of pleasureful climax in Brett's balls. He shoved his hips hard forward, lifting her feet off the floor and nearly battering her head through the back of the couch, as his cum started to make the insane swim from his balls to the tip of his jerking pecker. The fantastic sensation in the base of his dong grew higher and higher as the hot pecker fluid ran up its length to squirt like a spewing geyser out the swollen cockhead. Brett threw his head back and shoved forward again as his pecker erupted with its hot, life-giving pleasure.
Christine felt the surge of pulsating pressure move up the length of the long pecker that her pussy was contracting around and she shoved back to meet the tremendous burst of passionate pleasure. The first blast of his hot sperm felt like an ocean of molten lead crashing deep inside her womb, and it started her cum all over again.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit! I'm aiming again! Oh, fuck me, fuck me good!” The hot, spewing prick seemed to swell up against every part of her pussy and her womb jerked in answer to its driving, hot cum fluid. Each burst of the hot sperm felt like a million needles punching every nerve in her body, and her own cum exploded out around the hard, erupting whang to mix gleefully with its own erupting pleasures.
As Brett's climatic pleasure reached its peak, he still had his finger jammed deep in her still hotly clenching asshole, his hand trapped there by the force of his pelvis against her asscheeks. He could feel the spasmodic contractions of her pussy both from his exploding cock and from his finger in her shithole and it made him even wilder with excitement. His cum kept spurting out of the head of the pecker like there was no end to it, and with each sensational jerk, Christine's obscene, lascivious mewls became louder and louder. Their mixed cums were pouring out of her battered fuckhole to cover their thighs with sticky warmth. As more and more juice rolled out, it ran down their legs to stain the leather couch and carpet with gobby puddles.
When the last of Brett's sperm had travelled up the length of his huge prick, the satisfying explosion complete, Brett Stover fell forward across Christine's still upturned asscheeks. She lay flat on the couch to her side and he moved with her to keep his shrinking pecker inside her satisfied twat. Finally, able to get his weight off his feet, he stretched out beside Christine and pulled his finger from her still tightly grasping asshole.
“Ooooh! That's so damn good! Sooooo gooood!” Christine wiggled her asscheeks as if in gratitude for the pleasure his finger had given to her and she reached down between her wet thighs to fondle his huge balls as a token of her satisfaction. “Do I get the job?”
Brett Stover's slowly deflated prick pulled out of her wet cunt, making a slurping nose as it limply fell and hung across his leg. They both lay there in complete silence, breathing deeply to calm themselves once more. “Sweetie, you had the job the minute I saw you!” was all he could say in answer to her question.
Shortly after lunch, Margaret Stover had been relieved when her son's butler had answered the phone. She didn't like to talk to Nora or to Victoria and if either one had answered she would have hung up the phone without talking. But since Gerald had answered, she asked for Brett and learned that Brett had already left the house. Margaret thought Brett had gone to his office and instead of calling, Margaret decided to drive there. She hadn't seen her son in several days and to Margaret it was a good opportunity to visit him without having Victoria around.
It was a scorching day, but the traffic was light, so Victoria drove to the Stover Building in record time with the car air-conditioning on full blast. When she got out after parking the car, the warmth of the day was very noticeable. The abrupt change from cool to warm air always made her more aware of her pussy and she somehow liked the excited feeling it gave her. The interior of the building was cool and she walked quickly to the elevator. She liked the elevators in the building as they had mirrors on one side and after touching the top floor button, she checked her appearance as the elevator rode up. She was wearing a blue linen designer's dress which she particularly liked as it showed off her shapely legs while at the same time created the illusion of a see-through, but she had on flesh-colored bra and panties because of her modesty.
Stepping out on the top floor, Margaret turned to her left and headed down the hallway at a slower pace. She hesitated for a moment outside Brett's secretary's office, listening for any activity inside, but hearing none, she knocked on the door before going in without waiting for a response.
Brett's secretary was sitting at her desk putting makeup on and she looked startled until she recognized Margaret. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Stover,” she said, with a tone of surprise in her voice. Margaret rarely visited the office during the week.
“Good afternoon. Is Brett in his office? I'd like to see him,” Margaret continued without hesitation. She never wasted small talk on the office employees.
“No, Mrs. Stover! He just left a few minutes ago. I'm afraid you just missed him,” she said, regaining her composure.
“Was he going to his home?” Margaret didn't like playing guessing games and she gave the secretary a look of impatience.
“He had to go over to The Oaken Bucket to interview job applicants for barmaid. I'm sure you can find him there.”
“Thank you, good bye,” Mrs. Stover said over her shoulder as she was heading back toward the door and the elevator beyond. Margaret's abrupt manner around office employees stemmed mostly from her feeling that they all knew about her real relationship with her husband. She was sure that some of Brett, Senior's fuck partners were on the office payroll and she figured correctly that the word had traveled the office grapevine. That was the main reason Margaret rarely visited the office during weekdays, as the looks she got from most of the employees made her feel embarrassed and nervous. Her son's secretary was no exception.
Getting back to her car, Margaret headed for The Oaken Bucket once again cooling off with the blowing air conditioner. She hadn't been to the cocktail lounge for some time and she never had reason to drive through the bar strip district so she twice had to turn around for having gotten onto the wrong streets. Margaret had lived in the New York area all her life, but she was amazed and confused by the growth of the new residential districts. When she finally found The Oaken Bucket, she was relieved to see Brett's car parked in front. She parked in a space ahead of it and walked hurriedly to the front of the posh bar.
Shading her eyes against the sun's glare, she looked into the cocktail lounge and seeing no one, tried the door. It was unlocked so she went inside. The interior seemed stuffy and even warmer than it had been outside and she waited for a moment for her eyes to adjust fully to the darkened bar.
She was about to check the manager's office when she was startled by a noise. It seemed to be coming from the manager's office and Margaret was sure it was a human moan. All sorts of images flashed through her mind as she imagined that Brett might be hurt, but in spite of her fright, Margaret moved quietly toward the direction she thought the sound came from. She was beginning to think that someone had come in to rob the bar and somehow Brett too had been hurt in the process. She was thinking, too, that someone might still be around so she was shaking by the time she stood in front of the office door.
Margaret waited for a moment to see if the sounds were coming from within one of the rest rooms, but when she heard another moan that was even louder than the first, she was sure it had come from behind the curtained office at the far end of the cocktail lounge. The sound was more like a high-pitched scream, and Margaret was really apprehensive about finding the source of the sound. It had seemed like a cry of someone being tortured, and she moved even more slowly toward the curtained office.
When she was just a few feet away, she could see a split in the heavy drape in front of the door that was more worn than the rest of the curtain, and she moved toward it, her shaking hand outstretched as if to protect herself. Margaret hesitated for a moment before parting the material to have a look beyond it, then as she heard another moan she pulled the curtain back slightly to see what was going on.
A jolting-chill slammed through her pussy as her eyes focused in on the image of naked bodies beyond the half-open door. She would have turned and run if her legs could have followed her instincts, but the shock of what she was seeing kept her frozen to the spot. For an instant she thought she was surely going to faint and the sound of Christine's words rang in her head.
“Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Yes, oh fuck me!” Margaret dropped the curtain in front of her eyes in
