Daughter loves horses
Buck Morgan woke up when the sunshine came in through the window and began to warm his naked ass. His wife's hot ass was pressed to his belly, his cock was buried up her throbbing pussy, and he began to hump her immediately.
Gale Morgan moaned in her sleep, wiggling her ass as her husband fucked her, as he nuzzled her neck and played with her tits. She came almost awake as he shot off inside her, and she mumbled something. A moment later, she was dead to the world again.
Buck hauled his softening prick out of Gale's cunt and climbed out of bed. He had to piss something fierce. He thought immediately of Cindy and went to find her. She was always begging for his piss, and he was hot to feed it to her. He loved to lay his floppy cock down her throat and just let go, unloading a healthy bladderful down her pretty, bobbing gullet.
He found Shawn sleeping alone.
Little Beth _s boyfriends
The next day was Saturday, and the family ate a leisurely breakfast together.
"You know what I'd like to do?" Joe asked abruptly.
"What's that, dear?" Marcella inquired as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.
"Go to the beach – all of us. Cathy and Beth have been going so often, and having such fun, that I've gotten envious." He smiled fondly at his daughters.
"Well, I had some shopping I wanted to do," their mother replied. "But I suppose it can wait until next week."
"Sure!" Joe said enthusiastically. "Let's have a real family outing."
Beth and Cathy hadn't said anything. Joe studied them.
"Well, you two are mighty quiet," he said. "Don't you feel like going to the beach today?"
"I suppose so, Daddy," the older girl replied.
Bound, whipped and raped schoolgirls
It was well after midnight. Of the fireworks in Grant Park, only a few ashes were left. In parked cars behind bushes, on blankets on the round, only a handful of couples remained, getting in one last fuck before going home to bed, the girls and boys to separate homes and separate beds. Only a few couples would dare stay out all night, sleeping together in locked cars with dew-misted windshields.
Over in the gym at Memorial High School, the lights were still on. The exercise mat in the center of the floor lay directly under hot spotlights and was wet with sweat, sweat from a coach, two boys, and three girl gymnasts.
The coach and the two boys wondered how much longer they could go on before their balls shriveled to prunes and they fainted from exhaustion. It amazed all three males that they could still attain such firm and pleasure-filled erections.
"Honey… lover!" Danny exclaimed as his young bride eagerly licked his cock.
He had been out of his cast for less than a day, and this was the first chance he'd had to fuck her since his accident. But she seemed happy to go on doing what she had done for him when he was laid up in bed.
Danny couldn't complain – his bride's oral lovemaking was very good. But his prick ached with the need to burrow into her warm, wet flesh.
"Baby, get on top of me!" he said, trying to wrench her head away from his upthrust, waggling dong. "Now that we've got the chance, let's screw."
"I want to screw this sweet thing!" Millie said passionately as she rubbed his moist, hard pecker against her cheek. "But I've got to talk to you first."
"Talk at a time like this?" Danny rasped unbelievingly.
"Yes! Right now."
"Well, what the hell is it?" he demanded, clutching her by the chin and forcing her to look at him.
Phil Carpucci rubbed himself through his trousers and imagined he was sucking her tits. She would have light-pink nipples; girls of her coloring always did. Her nipples would be rigid, and her young titties would vibrate firmly against his face as he sucked them and she squirmed.
He also would do other things with her, Phil fantasized as his penis grew hard in his pants. He would spread her candy legs wide apart and get right down between them. The hair along her slit would be nearly as pale and silken as the hair on her head, and the interior of her slit would be juicy and pink. Her entire crotch would be beautiful, including the dimple located to the rear of her pussy, snuggled between the pale, rounded cheeks of her ass. Phil would kiss her all over. His hard-on throbbed.
Melanie Jones caught the driver looking lust-fully at her, and a pinkness suffused her fair cheeks.
The dirty man! she thought. He's undressing me with his eyes. I can practically feel him lifting my skirt and stroking me along the pantyhose. I'll bet he would like to get between my legs and…
NO! I won't think, about such nasty things!
She turned her bead and looked out the window at the luxurious estates that were gliding past.
It was their fifteenth wedding anniversary, and Hyatt had completely forgotten it. Not only that, but he didn't know when he'd get home tonight from the office. He had a lot of work to finish before he could leave, he claimed.
Carol hadn't mentioned to him the candlelight dinner she'd spent all afternoon preparing, nor had she mentioned the black, see through negligee she was wearing, with nothing on underneath, the negligee that had in the early days of their marriage provoked him to jump on her like a randy animal whenever she wore it for him.
Why bother to say anything! He had completely forgotten their wedding anniversary this year – again! – and if she mentioned the fact to him, he would simply have told her that he was sorry, but he had a lot on his mind, and business was business, after all. And if she expected to be able to put dinners on the table in the future, or to buy fancy clothes and furniture, then she must learn not to get upset about his staying late at the office once in a while.
He'd been giving her those same lines for years. He was hopeless! Absolutely hopeless!
As she ran up the stairs to find her robe, the doorbell rang again, and she shouted loudly that she'd be right there.
Marcella, hearing the approach of a vehicle along the back-country road, bent a bit farther and elevated her hips. The breeze, which had been gusting across the prairie, dipped underneath her light skirt and billowed it up above her bottom.
The approaching driver got a sudden, unexpected view of her generous buttocks, which packed and expanded the filmy fabric of her pastel panties. Her thighs gleamed, pale and smooth, above gartered stockings.
Marcella waggled her bottom, causing her buttocks to wobble in her panties. The pink nylon shimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight. The crotch seam of her briefs pressed against the lush softness of her ass.
Finally she pushed her skirt down and turned to face the farmer in his rattletrap truck which had come to a skidding stop beside her. His gray eyes glinted and a grin came to his weathered face as he gazed at the pretty woman in her late twenties. She wore no makeup except for a touch of lipstick, and she had a fresh and wholesome quality that contrasted with her voluptuous figure. The breeze stirred her auburn hair against a cheek as she smiled almost bashfully.
“I seem to have some car trouble,” she said in a sweet voice.
It had been six months since she'd received the call informing her that a crane had fallen on her husband at his construction job, killing him instantly, and she was still unable to believe it. She kept expecting George to pop in the door at any moment and tell her it had been a joke.
Bin it was no joke. George was dead. Jennifer was alone. She wondered if she was going to spend the rest of her life in front of a TV set, staring blankly at it.
The quarter-million dollars in life insurance benefits she'd received as a result of George's death were a mixed blessing. With the money wisely invested and earning dividends, she was set financially for the rest of her life. She'd never have to work to support herself.
But maybe it would have been better if George had left her nothing and she'd have been forced to go out and get a job. A job would have been good for her, would have taken her mind off the loss of her husband and given her less time to brood. How could she motivate herself to go out and find work though, when her quarter-million was earning her more money than the knew what to do with? So she sat home, watched TV, and brooded over the loss of George, wondering if she'd ever be happy again.
A white-haired man who sat on a blanket, next to his dozing wife, felt an uncommon stirring in trunks as Cathy's tantalizing bottom wiggled past, nearly close enough for him to take a bite of it.
The eyes of a young passerby were brightened by the bouncy quiver of her tits. Cathy was the proud possessor of a pair which resembled sponge-rubber balls, except for the rigid tips which projected from their crests. Her bikini top came high enough only to conceal the thrusting stems, while revealing the rims of her pink aureoles. The swelling orbs on which her nipples sat were alive with vibrating motion.
Cathy's baby sister, Beth, had just begun to sprout nubbins at the age of twelve. Cathy's opulent breasts and curvy bottom frightened Beth, when she thought that she herself might possess such bulges some day.
The hair on her sister's body was even more frightening. Beth had no hair between her legs at all.
She differed from her sister Cathy in another way as well: Beth had no interest in boys. She was happy to play with her dolls and to fantasize about a glamorous life without boys. A girl's body was just something to put pretty clothes on, as far as Beth was concerned.