Naughty, Anal, Cheating
It's all very well wanting to get ahead in life, but sometimes you must focus on your cock head.
Well, I was happy with the attention mine was getting from my new daughter-in-law. As for my son Shane, he really shouldn't have chosen a job that kept him away from his own petite rampant pussy machine. God, Tennille had a sweet coochie, and her arse …it was…but you can wait for that…
The big, fast money can be made in mining, and Shane chased it. The problem was the mines were all on the edge of the Western deserts, in the middle of the frickin dustiest and most heat-sapping region of the globe. I know you'll probably dispute the claim to the frickin hottest, most godforsaken location on the planet. Still, facts don't lie as a father-in-law can.
Marble Bar holds the world record for the most consecutive days of a temperature in the shade above 100 °F (37.8 °C)-one hundred and sixty days of fucking frying heat. Shane wasn't stuck there permanently; he did the fly-in, fly-out, straight in the mine, then straight-out rotation.
Anyway, let's talk about real heat, pure heat. Tennille had a hot pussy, and I would have set a record for the most consecutive days of a father-in-law screwing his daughter-in-law if Shane hadn't been on his fly-in-fly-out work schedule. Eight days on-six days off.
I will tell you straight up there is nothing wrong with humping a pretty new bride for consecutive days, knowing her husband, your son, isn't going to be coming through the front door and into the bedroom when you are dogging his wife. Or shagging her on the stairs or her rump bent over the sofa.
Tennille was very innocent when she first asked me around to fix the leaking laundry pipes. I told Shane to buy a fix-it-up place only if he had the time to fix it. The dripping pipes let me fill Tennille's seeping wet slot.
The laundry would be the most unsexist place in any house. Dirty socks, wet towels, and yesterday's underwear are unattractive.
I was building up a sweat under the laundry cabinet, removing, resealing and then adjusting the pipes. Tennille was passing me what I needed. It was just very organised teamwork. I had no idea how frickin good she would be at body teamwork. As pretty as she was, it hadn't crossed my filthy mind to screw her, let alone mentally undress her. I mean, she was my boy's girl.
Tennille, though, had to have a look when the job was finished. The twenty-three-year-old woman was on her hands and knees, looking in the cavity at my excellent sealing. Her jeans just defined her bum, leaving little to imagine; her curvy shape was heaven to my eyes. I was caught staring at nature's sublime job in crafting womanly arse. Tennille had a peachy, stunning derriere. Buttocks demanding to be parted and dogged.
My daughter-in-law didn't help the situation by backing out with a slight natural wriggle. I grabbed two soft handfuls of arse. Well, to have taken only one when I knew a slap or worse was likely coming would have been a waste of a grope. If I was going down for impropriety with my daughter–in–law, at least it would be memorable.
Some young married women remain content whatever their sex life; for example, eight straight days without any, and some young married women need sex and crave sex constantly. Tennille was a married slut.
"Oh yeah…Mmm…You dirty old bastard…now you've started, don't you dare stop," moaned Tennille.
I couldn't have stopped anyway. Man, oh man, her arse felt sensational under my fingers. I'm talking about her flesh here. Her jeans and panties were just yanked down indecorously by me.
I was nuzzling straight into her arsehole with my tongue. I had no idea whether Tennille liked her butthole being licked, but I needed to do it.
Well, you hit the mark sometimes straight off by going straight in. My daughter-in-law just went into thigh-quivering ecstasy. Yeah, she liked her pink pucker getting attention.
"Oh, you are filthy prick; you're a sleazy sod," she managed before she was reduced to; "Orrhh's… OOhh's" and near endless" Aaah's."
I mean, you can get your tongue playing around a lass's crinkled, puckered, sensitive ring. She's all bells and whistles, but when you spread a woman's tight rear hole and poke your tongue in the gape: well, their body and their mind are all yours, pliable, mouldable to your cock's wishes.
God, I was stiff. Boy, was her pussy slit glistening wet. Her cunt pout presented so smooth.
Shaved for whom?
I suspected for her private delight in the absence of Shane.
I ploughed my fingers into her squelchy, moist furrow, deep, indecent. I got the murmurs of delighted approval from my daughter-in-law. I could have finger fucked her all day. She was that agreeably and pleasingly tight yet warmly soggy. And straight out of her mouth, beautiful obscenities voicing her enjoyment; "More fingers, deeper, spread me, Oh Fuck yeah, just like that."
Eventually, I grabbed her cute brunette ponytail and yanked her head back as I sank my cock straight into her. I was leaning right over her. I was pounding her gorgeous private hole. In the immediate instance, I had the uttermost respect for my son because he had chosen first-class pussy.
Tennille's body was completely open and defined for sex. Her pink lips wrapped around my hard thrusting pecker. She sealed me tighter than the job I did under her basin. Her breasts were soft mounds of available enjoyment as I groped under her bra for a decent handful.
Hell, penetration had never felt so good. We created our urgent stunning cock and pussy definition. Immediate sexual delight.
She was fingering her clit, the married whore.
"My clit has a mind of its own," piped Tennille.
"So does my cock," I replied.
I did the leisurely series of cock movements: straight in-straight out. Oh, those milliseconds of denial. They make you feel so frickin good as you plunge back in again. Deny yourself. Deny her. Then, double self-indulgence. Double rekindled pleasure as your genitals renew their denied acquaintanceship and bury themselves in delicious intimacy.
"Oh, give it to me…give it to me," Tennille begged.
I gave it to her, but I deprived her too till she could take no more. In for a plunge, then out for a smeared rod-held moment: a bit like a fly-in, fly-out but with benefits. And between thrusts, I fingered her arsehole and smeared her juices back into her gawped starfish.
"Oh, you bugger…take my arse…fill my arse now," my daughter-in-law beseeched me.
You have to give a pleading lass what she wants. Don't we love it when they ask for it: up their butthole? I did the prodding pushes around her sweet, tight crack. My cock head was delighted by her restrictive pressure. All Tennille could do was gently moan.
I fleeting thought how lucky Shane was to enjoy such a tight arse regularly before I was lost in cock paradise. I was in. Her butthole was holding my cock. Her arse crack gave just enough to squeeze my cockhead in and keep my pecker snug like a perfectly fitted wedding ring circles a finger.
I know some guys will say…arse is arse …and your cock in an arse is purely a case of one size fits all.
A jeweller will tell you there is no such thing as the perfect fit with a ring. Truth be told: Tennille's arsehole was the divine fit for my stiffy.
I didn't have to force my cock. She was delirious with cock filling arse comfort.
Mmm, I thought…Shane has broken in his bitch, well…maybe too well, but hell, I wasn't complaining.
My balls were busting for release and boy, I had to cream her arse. I looked down at my cock plunging into her arse. It was a personal halo of carnal enveloping, clarified pecker pleasure, and man, I jizz blast her.
Tennille nearly frickin collapsed as her clit exploded, allowing a flood of escalating charismatic goodness to flow through her body.
Oh, the laundry is a good location for sex after all because Tennille's sated bum dribbled my excess cum straight onto the tiled floor.
Oh, and Tennille makes a good after-sex coffee.
And more importantly, my daughter–in–law invited me back tomorrow to fix a jammed door. I could do that and jam her arse too, pack it with hard cock, cram her bum tight. No problem.
"Seeya tomorrow…Tennille…Oh, how many days till Shane flies back," I smirked at the door.
"Seven, "she said, jiggling her bra-free titties for me.
As I drove away, I thought seven was a lucky number.