Ithought that I had enjoyed jazzing in the old way but it was nil compared to this new position.
He paused long enough during these thrusts to kiss me with all the fervor of his cunt-inflamed soul. He also moulded my bubbies with his hands. /'Flossie, what exquisite titties!' he exclaimed, then kissed me between my plump mounds, 'and how deliciously you can fuck. Flossie, you are gorgeous.
Oh-or. Bite me with your cunt-teeth! Eat it! Girlie, it's so good! Oh, you hot cunt! I'll… I'll… fuck you full of love juice.. and he continued muttering between these entrancing, deep digs and twists.
I was speechless and could only gasp with convulsive thrills.
'Oh… Ah… Take that!.. and that!.. Oh boy!.. mmm-mm!'
He sprayed his strong jets of creamy fluid into me.
God, it ade me tremble so! He slowed down, closed his eyes and sank upon me. He wallowed in my arms and legs, panting in profound ravishment. This, a man enjoys so very much especially after he has shot a woman full of his nectra-like fluid.
Roland did not have a better spend than I, nor did he enjoy the feast as much as I. ow could he?
I experienced ten of the most heavenly and satisfying spends that I have ever had.
I lay there cuddling him in my nude arms and body, with his big, fat, bobbing cock still buried in me.
We were thus, both enjoying the aftermath of this delicious fucking.
Fo rover an hour we played with each other's fineries. Roland sucked my firm nipples until I was tempted to ride again with his big, fat jock stuffed snugly between my plump thighs.
To excite my lover to another erection I toyed and fingered his enormous bag, digging my fingers into the sensitive nerve roots. I stimulated his imagination with vivid, enticingly lewd word-pictures of the fucking affairs that lie before us. I also described to him how irresistably desirable I would always keep uH self in the future. it was then that I had begun to study him more carefully. I wanted to understand him perfectly; his every sexual desire as well as the exact extent and strength of his libidinous nature. I guess I did this for some very good but Indistinct reason… maybe it was because I once heard my aunt say that the best and only way to hold a man was by his prick, or someting to tha teffect. At any rate I was determined to discover for myself how and when he wanted his
cunt. With all my mind, will all my soul, with all my heart, and with all my cunt I was desirous of holding my cherry-smasher… wasn't he the one experienced prick in a million?
I sought every artifice by which I could hold his fancy and arouse his lustful emotions.
I concentrated my efforts then on making his indulgense in my arms as highly seasoned with sensational spiciness as my immature knowledge would permit. I put his, still sofft, knob in my pussie. Soon life flowed into it. The once soft head, which was now sheathed deeply into my vent was again beginning to throb and bob. It wasn't long until it stiffened to its original bigness.
To feel a man's cock expand within you and grow stiff is a most unusual sensation. Its slow, but steady widening in my vaginal walls made me burn with a fever to fuck. Lord! but I was aching to jazz some more! I had become so randy that I bit his face and chewed his tongue.
Roland did not mount me as he did previously, instead we remained lying on our sides in such a position that he could conveniently play with by babyskinned thighs and fat rund bottom. He watched my pussie as it swallowed his enormous, fat dick. The screwing which immediately followed, was an unforgettably voluptuous one. He kissed my lips and sucked my titties as he pumped his steaming hot jock into my welcoming womb.
This was another occasion when I spent many times before he painted my uterine walls with his hot jets. How wonderful it was to once more feel the full force of his juice-sprayer. Unrelentlessly it pumped his hot balsamic load into me. He wallowed in my cunnie after each spasmodic jet of hot sperm was ejected and delighted:
'You delicious cunt! I could fuck you forever…
God! but it feels! good!'
My nippers operated perfectly on his shooting prick. Soon they had extracted all the juice of this come.
My pulsating quim could no longer retain its glorious glue and I too spend with much fury. Our emissions thus mixed as I had extracted his last drops with my pussie's pliers.
We sank into a delicious oblivion, then we prepared ourselves for our return trip.
During the entire journey home, he coddled me in his arms and breathed many billing expressions into my ears. He also spoke of the promised trip abroad, London and Paris. With such beautiful words he embroidered these places that it appeared to me that we were to, in reality, embark on a voyage to an earthly Paradise.
We reached home about ten-thirty that evening, sealing one of the most heavenly episodes of my life.
Aunt Stella was anxiously awaiting my return. I introduced Roland to her. I assumed that her eagerness for me to arrive home was not one that was founded on worry for my safety, but a strong curiosity to know how my experience turned out and to learn the answers to the usual barrage of questions, such as: 'How did you like it? Did it feel good? How did his thing look? Was it nice and big? How long did you go? How many times did you come?' and etc.
I perceived Roland gloating over the voluptuous charms of my would-have-loved-to-jazz-him aunt.
At least that is what her eyes bespoke.
Men are funny creatures, aren't they? As soon as they exhaust themselves fucking one woman… as early as five minutes later they want to screw another dress covered, well set, ass and bubbied torso.
To themselves they say: 'Gosh, but I like to try that… I'll bet she'd make some hot jazz!'
Some women are that same way about men. They too want to screw every handsome man that appears to have a big thing in hljTpnts in spite of almost being fucked to a heavenly death a few moments before. I, for one, belong to that group.
Roland didn't suspect it, but on my way home every man I saw I wondered how big his concealed meat-stick might be.
'Was it as big as the cop's club,' I would ask myself, referring to the one that clots about the corner of 42nd Str and Broadway.
The club idea was beginning to grow from a humorous illusion to an actual desire. I decided that someday I would make it a point to find one that big, even if I had to open my legs beneath a burrow and let hi mbury his gigantic article in me till it reached my throat. The thought of jazzing a burrow was another one of my ideas of humor. At that time I thought such a union was impossible… but it wasn't long before I learned how populaar it really was.
As I understand it, that is, the only way a forty-yearold whore can be appeased sexually.
Really 1 couldn't very well blame Roland for shining that want-to-jazz-you light in his eyes. The way Aunt Stella was clad was sufficient to warrant this desire. She wore a transparent kimona which daringly revealed every feature, including her attractive mossy patch… only this prevented Roland from seeing the happy lips of her I4ove- the-pricks cunnie.
If I were ‹tp depart from the scene they would have, no doubt, indulged in eac hother's charms.
Anyhow they both looked as though they could enjoy fucking each other, then and there. I was alert to this possible situation… I was selfish, I wanted every drop of Roland's sperm, therefore I rushed my seducer from the house under the pretense that the hour was late and that we were both in need of a rfreshing sleep. He was not at all pleased because he entertained his desire for auntie's coozie, but he moved toward the door hesitantly.
I was truly ashamed of myself for not letting him spend in Stell's, Roland's-dick-wanting, part in her legs but, as I have written, I wanted every jazz that my lover was able to perform.
After kissing Roland good night in Stell's presence … incidentally this embrace even made my aunt hot… I began to relate to her my adventures in the realms of unchasteness… and were they unchaste!
By the time I had reached the end of my tale we were both so cunt-steaming that we were compelled to finger-screw each other twice before we were able to doze into a, dreaming-of-prick-all-night, sleep.
