Messy Finishes... 18 Story Bundle of You Know What!

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Messy Finishes... 18 Story Bundle of You Know What! Page 12

by Miley Milque


  “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. I have to cup a hand to my mouth to keep from snickering. It was fun pretending like I was Mrs. Smith, though she would never dream of doing something like this for her husband.

  I continue my way up his thighs and pause a moment when I reach his white briefs. I press my nose gently against the large bulge of his underwear and grin. I nibble playfully at the mound and try hard to stop myself from giggling like a naughty schoolgirl.

  Mr. Smith’s cock is enormous, even when he’s still soft.

  I tuck the tips of my nails just under the elastic band around his waist, then tug just enough so his thick pubic hair is peeking out.

  I lick the dark hair at the top of his crotch and follow it leisurely up to the patch at his navel. The wetness of my tongue leaves a streak of saliva that dribbles down one side of his abdomen.

  The taste of him is surprisingly pleasant.

  “What are you—” he starts to say, but he shuts up immediately when he feels the hot air of my mouth around his cock. I lap at his growing dick and feel it getting bumpy around the shaft. This is exactly what Mr. Smith needs.

  His dick is stiff now so I get my lips around the head. I grab hold of both his thighs and push down as far as I can go.

  “Ungh!” he moans. Deep throating Mr. Smith’s cock causes his legs to shake. I gag a bit when the tip of him gets deep down, farther than I ever thought I could go.

  His giant cock is actually quite bearable to hold down, so I start moving my head up and down while sucking my lips like a vacuum.

  The pulse of his dick in my throat tickles a little, and I’m finding the whole experience immensely pleasurable. It feels so good that my pink lace panties have gotten soaking wet.

  He grabs hold of the back of my hair to push me down even farther, but I gag hard and have to come up for air this time.

  Thick trails of spit fall from my lips onto his throbbing cock, dripping down and around his ball sac. Mr. Smith runs fingers through my long, silky blond hair and suddenly goes tense.

  He must have noticed that my hair isn’t short like his wife’s.

  I manage to get one his balls in my mouth and roll it around with the back of my tongue a bit before he presses a palm against my forehead to stop me.

  “Oh my god!” Mr. Smith throws back the bedspread and covers in one quick swoop. The moonlight coming in from the window makes my face looks pale white in the dark room.

  I’m biting the corner of my lower lip and staring up at Mr. Smith with doe eyes. I hope he isn’t too angry with his naughty little neighbor.

  After all, I know how much he was enjoying my blowjob when he thought I was his wife.

  “Please Mr. Smith, can I keep sucking your cock?” I ask. He continues to stare at me, looking completely befuddled. I bend down to get in at his crotch again, but he stops me a second time.

  “Please, I just want to get you ready for sex with Mrs. Smith.” I use the hands at his thighs to glide myself along the tight muscles of his chest so my tits are in his face. I hold there for awhile, waiting for some kind of response from him.

  Then I gasp when he’s got one of my breasts in his mouth. I tilt my head up toward the ceiling and moan as he flicks my nipple hard with his tongue.

  He grabs onto me with both hands at the waist and lifts me up so my naughty bits sit just above his rock hard dick.

  He releases the suction of his mouth on my breast and looks me straight in the eyes. His dark brown eyes glint in one corner where I think he might be crying a little.

  “Does my wife know about this?” He whispers. I bend all the way down so I’m parallel with his ripped torso and get my lips close behind his ear.

  “No,” I whisper back, “It can be our little secret.” I giggle and place a straight index finger into the softness of his open lips. I reach behind and guide the head of his dick so it’s at the entrance of my wet hole.

  “I want you to fuck me in my pussy, Mr. Smith,” I laugh with excitement. But he holds me firm by the waist.

  “We—we can’t do that, Kate.”

  “But why not?” I make a pouty face at him.

  “Because… it’s just not right. That’s something only my wife and I can do.” I whine in protest. Still, that meant he might let me do other naughty things with him.

  “I bet Mrs. Smith never did this for you…” I get his hard cock between the folds of my slit and start rocking my hips back and forth.

  My wet girl juices thoroughly coat his penis and create a slick lubricant. As I glide smoothly along the shaft, I want desperately for him to enter me. But I have to respect Mr. Smith’s rules.

  I press down firmly against his hard pectoral muscles with fingers spread, looking down at freshly manicured nails in my favorite pink polish. My hips gyrate and my breath quickens as I ride on my Mr. Smith’s thick shaft. I feel like I could cum even without him entering me.

  I bring myself up off the shaft with my legs, then scoot along his body until my pussy is right above his mouth. I drop my hips down and feel him pushing his tongue flat against my hole.

  Mr. Smith licks between and around my flaps while he’s holding my knees to keep me stable. I can’t help but moan loud. Then I stifle a scream, remembering that Mrs. Smith might hear us.

  “God, you taste sweet,” he says in the moment of pausing for air. “I always thought you might,” he continues, just before plunging deep inside. He licks all around my insides and I’m feeling lightheaded.

  I want to scream out, but I can’t let Mrs. Smith hear us fucking. He grunts and slurps with every lap of his tongue, like he’s eating out one of those hot nubile teens on the Internet. Only, I taste so much better.

  The taste of me gets him licking with even more intensity and he grabs hold of my bouncing tits. I bite down hard on my bottom lip and shudder violently when I finally cum. Waves of euphoria wash over my whole body as I gush girl juices into Mr. Smith’s mouth.

  When the trembling in my hips begins to subside, I remember how I still need to get him ready for his wife. I turn around so my ass is in front of his face and guide his hands so they’re squeezing the sides of my ass cheeks.

  I sit back a little so he’s buried in my crack and start stroking his throbbing cock.

  I go slow at first; occasionally getting my lips around the head, sucking and nibbling just a bit. My stroking quickly picks up in speed and intensity when I feel his tongue enter me from behind.

  He’s darting in and out of my folds, lapping at my clit while I’m beating him off at a feverish pace. My fingers are wrapped firmly around his dick and I can feel his pulse quickening with every stroke.

  “Ugh, Kate—you’re making me—”

  “You can’t cum yet, Mr. Smith. I only got you hard so you’d be ready for your wife.” His expression is suddenly one of positive disappointment. “I can’t have you blowing your load unless it’s in her.” The hands on my waist fall with a thud to the mattress, and he resigns himself.

  I maneuver myself off of him, out of the sheets, and to the bedroom door. As I exit the bedroom I keep my head between the crack of the door to tell him one more thing.

  “Go on now. If you fuck your wife good tonight, maybe we can play together again.” I have to suppress my giggling as I make my way back down the hall to my bedroom just so Mrs. Smith doesn’t hear me out of bed.

  ******

  The sliver of light coming through the crack of my bedroom door gets wider and brighter. The silhouette of a tall man appears behind the slow creaking door as I sit up naked in my bed. Is he finished with Mrs. Smith already?

  Mr. Smith steps moves toward the edge of my bed with shoulders sunk, looking defeated. He places his hands upon the wooden frame and slumps his head down into his chest.

  His hands are shaking, the grip on the frame is tense and he looks anxious. His eyes are squinted tight and his face is a grimace—he’s choking back tears.

  I had never seen my Mr. Smith crying before. I get up to care
ss his trembling hands still gripping tightly on the bed frame, trying to calm him down. The tension in hands releases and I guide him by the elbow to sit atop the bed with me.

  He’s sobbing now. I place a hand on one cheek to wipe away tears with my thumb.

  “My wife and I—we…” His words are muffled by more tears, but I understand completely. I hat seeing him like this. I just want to make him happy again. I get behind to massage his shoulders and he seems to relax a bit.

  There was simply no ounce of attraction left for his wife. They fought too often, and she never made any effort to make him happy anymore—that is, if she ever did. The love they may have once had for each other has dissipated now into a sea of monotony. But, I still love Mr. Smith.

  “You know I would never ask you to do something you didn’t want to…” he says, sniffling and wiping his nose. My skin tingles with excitement. What exactly is Mr. Smith about to ask me to do?

  A hand draws out from the pocket of his bathrobe, clipping a square plastic wrapper between forefinger and thumb. He is holding a condom.

  “Is Mr. Smith ready to fuck me now?” I ask gleefully. I push down on the arm holding the condom and plunge my tongue between his teeth as we fall backward on the bed together. I get one hand under the tie of his robe and fondle his balls.

  My middle finger travels down the skin of his sac and rubs small circles on his scrotum. I lick around playfully with my tongue lodged inside his mouth, but Mr. Smith seems detached.

  Before I can ask what’s wrong, he pushes me up and off of him.

  “We have to use this,” he says, peeling at one corner of the wrapper. “Otherwise I just wouldn’t be a good neighbor.” I huff in resignation.

  At least Mr. Smith is finally going to fuck me in my tight little pussy—even if it is with that troublesome condom.

  Mr. Smith already has his bathrobe off, so I start working his cock to get him hard again. He stops me a moment to place the condom on the tip of his now stiff dick.

  I whine as the latex unravels down the shaft, but this was Mr. Smith’s rule if we were going to play together.

  When the condom is folded around the base of him, he looks at me with a certain reluctance. We were being awfully naughty together, and Mrs. Smith would murder us if she found out.

  But she didn’t matter anymore.

  He couldn’t stand the sight of her now. There was much greater appeal in the thought of fucking his hot little neighbor silly while she begs for more, especially when the alternative was another dull romp with his grey and sluggish wife.

  All the years they’d been together, she never truly gave him the affection he deserved. But now I was going to give it to him. His nineteen-year-old neighbor is old enough now to make her own decisions.

  And Mr. Smith sure likes his women young, beautiful, and innocent.

  Just like all the girls in those teen porn videos he loved to masturbate to. Except now I could give him the real thing. What good is that hag of a wife now that he has me to fuck?

  He had tasted the sweetness of my young, perfect pussy now. And it was sweeter than he could have imagined. I could give him more pleasure now; more happiness than Mrs. Smith ever did in their entire marriage.

  Why on Earth he still wanted to conceive a child with her was beyond me. I could offer that to him, if only he asked. I could bear the child of his own that he’d always wanted.

  And now he is going to take me and fuck me senseless. Only, it won’t be nearly as fun if he’s still wearing that pesky condom.

  I pinch the excess latex at the head of his cock and force my tongue between his closed lips. When he pulls back again, I stare at him suggestively while tugging on the condom.

  My eyes plead with him, begging to let me take it off. And then he gives a slow nod of surrender, and I put on a devilish grin.

  I rip the thin plastic thing off and toss it. Mr. Smith grabs me forcefully by the hips and flips me over onto my stomach, my legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

  This was it. He is going to drill me like one of his Internet sluts, like in the videos that always end with a creampie.

  “Fuck me like a little whore and put a baby in me! Please, Mr. Smith!” He gets behind and lodges his thick cock snug between my ass cheeks. He slides up and down, lubricating my crack with a mix of precum and my own juices.

  He teases my clit with the tip, sliding in between the folds of my cunt and pressing hard against my puckered asshole.

  He pushes in harder and the soft flesh of my asshole gives, letting the tip of his cock slip just inside. It hurts a little, but it gets my pussy even wetter. I push backward with my hips so he slides a little deeper into my ass.

  His cock goes in smoother than I was expecting. I clench my asshole tight and he lets out a deep moan. I rock my hips forward and back, pushing his cock up my ass deeper with each thrust.

  It hurts just a little bit more the farther he penetrates my ass, but I tolerate the pain just for him. After all, I have to get him ready for my tight pussy.

  His precum is dripping out from my hole and down between my thighs. The walls of my anus are tight around his pulsating cock and I’m not sure how much longer he can hold it.

  “Agh!” He grunts out. His dick slides out of my ass, being careful not to cum too soon. He pushes down at the base of the shaft and gets it up against the opening of my slit.

  The urge to cum inside me was building, more than he could handle. His legs are shaking and he’s having trouble holding himself up by the sides of my ass.

  “Do it for me, Mr. Smith! Cum in my pussy!” I will be the mother of his child. I will do for him what his wife won’t. I beg for him to stick it in me already. I plead for him to cream inside.

  And then he’s deep in my pussy, the girth of him filling me whole. His enormous cock bottoms out at my cervix and I scream. I don’t care if Mrs. Smith can hear us anymore. I don’t care if she finds us up here fucking like rabbits.

  I am lost in the electric sensation of his cock slipping in and out of me. I moan and cry out in ecstasy.

  Then Mr. Smith pulls me in by the hips all the way against his cock. His balls hang between the gap of my thighs, his legs are spread and our ankles are wrapped. My pussy fills with his hot, thick spunk and we moan together. The head of his cock pulsates and squirts, again and again.

  His load drips out from me and dribbles down his ball sac. A single drop of it falls to the carpet.

  He collapses on top of my back and slips around on the sweat between us. The weight of him makes it hard to breathe and yet it comforts me. The air of his warm breath is whistling in my ear. I want to lie like this forever. Mr. Smith’s semen is deep inside me while I’m still fingering my clit.

  I spread a bit of the spunk pouring out from my pussy between two fingers. I bring it to my lips and taste his little soldiers, which are surprisingly sweet.

  We had done it. Mr. Smith and I are going to have a baby together.

  I hear the creaking sound of old wooden planks coming from the staircase. Mrs. Smith is coming up to see what all that yelling is about.

  Her wide silhouette is frozen in the doorway. Her husband’s cock is still buried balls deep in my pussy, his jizz is oozing down my thighs. But we continue lying still, together in total bliss.

  Mr. Smith is mine now.

  ALL FILLED UP

  "I said... can you come pick me up?" I'm trying to yell over the techno music that's blasting downstairs. The deep bass is booming and causing the bathroom walls around me to vibrate and hum.

  I'm at a college house party, and my best friend Christa just ditched me and left with a couple spiky haired douchebags. Both of them had bleached hair tips and looked like they were straight out of the nineties, but Christa will fuck anyone when she gets drunk.

  "Look, I have to get out of here." I'm sitting on the toilet, taking a leak while plugging a finger in one ear and holding the phone up to the other. I really hate parties like this, but Christa always forces me t
o go.

  All the guys here are so immature and dumb. I always get hit on all night by a bunch of nasty guys who just see me as an object, just another slut like the rest of the girls here.

  "Pretty please? I'm... not feeling too well." I try to sound drunker than I actually am. The truth is, I just want Christa's dad to come get me so I can fuck him.

  I guess she forgot that I was holding her phone for her, because she never asked for it before leaving. But that didn't bother me, because now I had her dad's number.

  The truth is, I have been saving myself for Mr. Pearce for a long time now. Sure, I've given out a few blowjobs since I started college last Fall, and I'm pretty good at it too, but nothing more than that.

 

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