moment, to turn it into something nice for herself. She reached down between her spread loins with the hook of the phone and rubbed the solid round plastic earpiece up and down next to her spread and oozing twat lips. She jacked herself off with the earpiece of the phone. Whenever there was a lull in the little cackle coming out of the phone, Sharon picked it up to her ear and said, 'Mm-mm,' or 'Oh, yes,' or 'I see,' and then, when Davey began to speak again, she put the phone back between her comely loins and continued to rub up and down against her heated clitoris and hot little labia. Finally, at one point, when she became so turned on that she couldn't stand it anymore, and when she was breathing like a cyclone and unable to control her emotions — her hips swiveled up and down, her pussy was nearly clapping with excitement — she put the phone aside and replaced it with fingers. She rubbed up and down on her twitching clitoris.
She was nearly there, nearly over the top of the Mount Orgasm when she heard this terrible shrieking coming from the phone. She'd forgotten about young Davey. She picked up the phone and breathed heavily into it. 'Are you alright?' asked Davey. 'Sharon? Are you o.k.? I was worried there for a minute that some stranglers or something came into your bedroom and killed you or something! That you were being raped or something! Are you o.k.?'
'I'm fine, Davey,' she said, 'but I really do have to go now.' She didn't wait for him to say anything else. She hung up the phone and sighed in relief. 'Oh, God,' she moaned to herself, 'I have to get off. I just have to get myself fucking off…'
She climbed out of her parents bed and went back to the shower. She'd temporarily forgotten about the chocolate pudding under her arms. But now it was hot and runny, and it felt good for her to spread it around on her body. She took some of it and rubbed it into her chest. She used it to lubricate her titties, to stimulate her nipples and make her breasts stimulated and horny. 'Oh, fuck,' she mumbled from time to time. Or, 'Oh, Jesus, I'm going to cum if it kills me.' She worked the chocolate up and down her excited belly and tits. Finally, she rubbed it into the tops of her thighs and sat down with her legs spread in the tub. 'Now,' she said, 'now I'm going to really get off…'
She reached over the side of the tub and picked up an electric dildo, her sister's latest. It was already plugged into the wall. It had five speeds and several attachments in addition to those which Sharon had purchased at her neighborhood bookstore. She put the machine on position number three and set her body to quaking and chilling. 'Oh, Jesus,' she grunted, 'I sure do like the feel of that thing going on my body that way.' She had the nozzle, the vibrating tip, of the machine up against her clit and her labia lips. The thing shook and made her body alive with the chills. She was especially hot, especially horny, and her mind couldn't help but begin to conjure up wonderful fuck images.
Sharon saw herself being pulled wide open. Rope bonds yanked at her pretty ankles and spread her legs. Leather bracelets pulled her arms apart. She was on a flat board and her entire supple body was being spread out and made ready for whatever fucking and sucking and beating and gushing her captors had in mind for her. They pulled her open. She was entirely vulnerable. There was the smell of goats and horses from nearby. She knew that she was going to be mercilessly attacked and fucked. She screamed and swore at her captors but it made no difference.
Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, there appeared a man dressed like Spartacus. His big thick thighs, his bulging biceps, his demeanor all suggested wrath and disregard for things sensitive. He was going to fuck the shit out of her. He was going to jam his cock up her twat, and not let her go until she bled. He was going to ram his fingers up her asshole and make her anus into a spittoon. He was going to defile her body in every way imaginable. She wondered if she would ever recover.
The board on which she was strapped tilted upwards. Her loins rushed and blushed with the blood which poured down into her pelvis. She was tipped so that the heathen man could mount her, fuck her, rape her open wound and make her cum. She, of course, had no say in the defilement and rape. Her plaintive cries went unheeded. No matter how she tried to get the attention of the other people around, it didn't help. She screamed and swore. She yelled and hollered. They hooted back at her, laughed and humiliated her every word. She didn't have a chance.
The big man mounted her. He had his leather chaps off, his whip was put aside. What he carried now was his big flesh sword. And he carried it up to the flesh gates between Sharon Pettibone's open vulnerable loins. Her crotch ached for it, but she denies that face. She wanted the big thick meat inside her, but she didn't dare say so. She wanted to feel the head of that mushroom hog rubbing and sliding on her pussy, but she didn't want to admit it.
He entered her in one long stab. He jabbed his hefty pole into her fleshy socket. He rubbed and pushed on her twat button. He jacked her up and down with his thick spear. She screamed out at the delicious pain in her pussy. She loved a penis in her cunt, especially a brutalizing, lusty one. She craved for more of it, and had her hands not been pinned to the board on which her body was stretched out and tied down spread-eagle, she'd have wrapped her hands around her attacker's fanny and pulled him down closer, hotter, tighter into her loins and her groin until his meaty pecker climbed out of her body through her throat. She loved it that much.
She extracted the big electric phallus from the inside of her pussy. She took the machine by the big brassy handle and lay it temporarily aside. She took a douche bag, handily hanging above her head alongside the shower curtain, and she filled it with fresh water. She spread with her fingers her twat lips and jabbed the nozzle end of the bag into her twat. She flushed out the residue of chocolate pudding and crud. She pulled the mechanical hose out of her body and let the excess cleansing liquid drain from her hole. 'There,' she mumbled, 'I have to be clean for the final fucking. It wouldn't be good to go to the heavenly Gods not clean…'
She lay back down and picked up the electric cock again. She pushed the machine into her pussy lips. They spread to accommodate the thick pecker device. She switched the machine on high, to the sharpest and fastest contour, and it started up, shaking Sharon's insides, making her hot all over again. 'Oh, God, yes,' she moaned, and it only took her a second or two more to conjure up a fantasy of herself and Davey screwing their brains out. From there she went on to picture herself with her father. Then she saw Mr. and Mrs. Pettibone doing their thing. They were rubbing up and down against each other and preparing for the BIG FUCK! Finally, Sharon saw herself with a young man a little older than she.
He was a big fellow, and so that she could call him something in her day dream while she masturbated, she nicknamed him Henry. 'Henry,' she pleaded when she saw the size of his huge boner, 'you can't put that big thing inside me. It's too fucking large.'
Henry smiled. He spread his legs apart and took the stance customary just before doing jumping jacks. In his hand was a bottle of oil. 'With this stuff here, baby,' he told Sharon Pettibone, 'I can do just about anything at all. Eh?' He opened the bottle of lube juice and poured it out into his palms. He poured all of the oil out onto his hands, and then, when it started overflowing, he spilled the extra onto Sharon's loins and pelvis. 'Oh, God,' she cried out, 'it sure is oily.'
'It's for cooking,' he said simply, rubbing his two hands together. 'And we're going to be doing some nice greasy frying. What could be better, eh?' He laughed and spread the grease along his large fat tumescence. 'Mmm,' he said, feeling his own slick bony dick with the oil, 'doesn't that feel nice? Nice and greasy and all?' He watched Sharon looking at him. 'What are you staring at bitch? Would you rather I just jammed it up in your twat without any juice at all? Maybe you'd like that? A dry spear in your cunt? Something for you to rotate on? Eh? Well, stop staring then!' He continued to rub his cock with his greasy hands.
'I'll put some on me, too,' said Sharon, reaching down to where the oil had spilled. 'You want it all over me?'
'All over you,' repeated Henry. 'That way we'll know for sure what it feels like to be fucking like greased pigs. Eh?' He laughed and chortled and then he got down on his hands and knees, next to Sharon, and he spread her legs out and prepared to mount her. 'You get that little greased pie of yours ready, honey, because Henry's gonna fuck your brains out! We're gonna go for a friendly little screwing that you won't be likely to forget! Ha, ha, ha. No sireee. You won't be forgetting it when Henry fucks your twat. You certainly won't.'
He reached between her legs and spread her pussy lips. Her cunt cave was v-shaped and lubed with plenty of oil. There were matted hairs here and there, but they were all on the outside, on her mound. He pushed her down flat on her back and rubbed up and down between her thighs. He wanted to make sure, as he entered her pussy, that she was not only greasy but hot for it. He wanted her insides simmering with juice, like a frying pan waiting for the meat to be added. 'Mmmm, good,' he said, 'yer getting there, honey. I can tell. Yer getting there nice and fast. It's gonna be good, too.' He slapped a finger into her pussy and tested her out just to be sure. He lifted the finger from her snatch and licked it with his tongue. 'OK, yeah, you're hot and tasty, babydoll. Just the way you ought to
