My Bride for Yours

by Curt Aldrich

  Marilyn squirmed harder than ever as he speeded his strongly pushing fingers, which were forcing the soggy strip of nylon running between her legs deep into her violently jacked-up slit.

  Suddenly Peter pulled the soaked, ropelike band out of her slit and pushed it aside, allowing him to get at the inner flesh of her pussy directly with his fingers.

  Oh, I can't let him do this! Marilyn thought frantically. It's wrong! It's so wrong!

  But she couldn't stop him! It was so nice! It was just too maddeningly enjoyable!

  “Oh, Peter! Peter! You shouldn't do that! You know you shouldn't do that!”

  She squirmed rapturously against his fiercely frigging fingers, her loins quaking from blossom to root due to the exquisite sensations running wild through the creaming flesh.

  Peter drove his index finger into her cunt and began slowly, steadily screwing her hole with the invading probe, and her cruelly overwrought loins loosed even more hot gushes of juices, drenching his hand with the copious effusions.

  Peter's fingers expertly frigged and banged away at her close-lipped genitals—so expertly that Marilyn already felt as if she were going out of her mind. She couldn't take the brute-like stimulation, she was sure; something would have to give. The feverish heat spreading all through her crotch was just-

  “Oh, golly, the girl's going wild, Peter!” she gasped somewhat hysterically, trying to ignore the fact that she was going pretty wild herself. “Look at her under him!”

  The girl on the screen had found her pain at being fucked so fiercely overwhelmed by the waves of ecstatic response being propelled through her almost violently horny twat that the pain had lost all significance for her. Her entire body was twisting and bucking under her utterly victorious tormentor. Her nostrils were flared obscenely, and sheets of sweat were pouring off her forehead and her deeply reddened cheeks.

  The man rammed his hands under the furiously working cheeks of her ass; then he cupped the firm little mounds and began squeezing them as if they were overdeveloped udders heavy with milk pressing from above.

  “Ooh, not so rough, Peter! Not so strong!” Marilyn groaned. “You're hurting if! Ooh, you're making it burn!”

  “Just look at those two fuck, Marilyn! They're really going to town, aren't they? Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “Don't talk that way, Peter! That's no language to use to a... to a...”

  “Baby, let's fuck,” Peter husked. “Oh, Marilyn, baby, I want to fuck you so bad. My guts ache, I want you so much.”

  “Oh, please, Peter... please don't...”

  “You want to fuck as bad as I do, baby. You know you do.”

  “Peter, don't say that! We can't! You have no right to say that! We're both married, Peter!”

  Peter tried to laugh, but the sound that came from his throat was more like a groan.

  “Have you taken a look at your husband and my wife lately? That man of yours has been humping my Barbara for all he's worth for the past fifteen minutes-and she hasn't been fighting him any, either!”

  “No!” Marilyn gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked sideways across the room at the scene of wild fornication taking place on the far sofa. “Oh, it's true! Peter, they are! They're doing it! How could he shame me like this?”

  “Baby, baby, baby, you know you want to fuck. And if he thinks he's got a right to do it with my wife, then you've got a right to do it with me.”

  He kissed her then, all but throwing himself on her, forcing her to sprawl out flat on her back on the sofa.

  “Oh, baby, it's going to be so good,” he rasped breathlessly, then smashed his lips back down on hers with bruising ferocity, and began sucking at her tender young mouth.

  His hand darted up and clasped one of her congested titties, his fingers kneading into the spongy flesh.

  The heat of his body hunkered closely over her, together with the strong throbbing and quickening of her one nipple in response to his remorseless squeezing and twisting, chased from Marilyn's mind any thought of fighting the lustful attentions. In fact, almost instinctively she lifted her arms and curled them possessively about his neck, hugging him tightly as she shuddered with desire.

  Peter snaked his tongue into her mouth. He flicked the tip of the fleshy, wet member all over the juicy membranes that quivered for attention, and at last he strained to penetrate her throat.

  Feeling Marilyn squirming again and rubbing up against him, he decided the time was right for him to start to really give the works to her. He skidded his fingers off her fiercely stimulated breast; then he dragged his palm far down her vibrant, diminutive figure. In moments, both his hands were caressing their way back up her thighs, with the bent tips of his fingers now and again boldly prodding the delicate, elastically yielding flesh along the way.

  His lust-stoked body tilted unsteadily, angling him up onto his side.

  He dipped his fingers between Marilyn's widely splayed thighs, going for her genitals once again. Giving heavy, digging strokes to the succulent tissues, he watched his knuckles bob and piston and twirl under her dress.

  No, not yet, he thought. She needs to be teased a little more...

  Marilyn grunted as a strong jolt of pleasure slammed into her midsection, releasing its intensity in waves that went pile-driving through her pussy. She felt Peter trying to wedge his hands under her buttocks, and she swung her hips up to facilitate his actions.

  Peter pulled her underpants part way off and felt over her sweaty cheeks, driving himself to pinch and caress every portion of the rubbery mounds. At last he squeezed up against the springy handfuls, forcing Marilyn's midsection to strain up high off the sofa. Then abruptly he let her settle back down, and he slipped back off the sofa, onto his calves, and pulled her pants all the way off her.

  He worked the front of her dress up out of the way, bunching the folds of material atop her stomach, and he gazed at the puffy red flesh between her legs. Groaning his intense hunger, he reached in to massage the wonder that was her cunt. He dragged his fingers along the thick, hair-lined flanges, then pulled them apart and inserted the tips of his fingers in the steaming maw.

  Marilyn began twisting and squirming with fierce energy, and as her pussy pulsed and creamed out copious flows of juices about Peter's probing fingertips, her bowels seemed to tighten and her hips started a shamelessly provocative rhythmical undulation.

  Her swollen and inflamed flesh pursed about Peter's fingers, and the glistening inner membranes began sucking at them.

  Feeling Peter intensifying his frigging actions, Marilyn grunted once more and drew her legs up, bringing her feet up flat on the sofa, setting them as far apart as she could so that her slit was grossly exposed to whatever manipulations Peter might care to subject it to.

  Peter pressed together his index fingers and his middle fingers, and he jammed the four-barreled frigger against the heart of Marilyn's slit.

  His finger-banging was so potent and so unrelenting that Marilyn had to chew on her lower lip to keep from screaming out the wonder of the unearthly rapture she was experiencing.

  “Ah, Peter!” Marilyn gasped, giving up the struggle, freeing her wounded, bleeding lip. “Do it, Peter—oh, my God! Do it hard and deep!”

  Peter frigged her with abandon, jabbing his hand into the maw of her cunt. He frigged every corner and every nook of the slimy, red opening, his fingers stoking her already sizzling passion with greater and greater wildness.

  He pried the greasy, hair-lined flanges of Marilyn's pussy viciously far apart, and his fingers screwed away ruthlessly, driving into the sucking depths of her passage, then twisting and spreading and grinding so frenziedly that Marilyn came close to biting off the tip of her tongue from sheer, brutally potent ecstasy.

  The stimulation was almost more than Marilyn could stand. Her neck dribbled her head like a basketball on the sofa, flinging it from side to side. Her pussy felt deeper in heat than ever before, deeper even than when Bill had been fucking her at full ti
lt. Peter's relentless frigging was jacking her up more than she would've thought possible.

  She began bucking up from the sofa, her hips gyrating and corkscrewing, her genitals pushing up in a frantic effort to suck even more intense thrills from Peter's fingers. Her inflamed flesh was throbbing and panting from end to end, and the puffy lips were actually twitching with lust.

  Groaning at the top of her lungs, she scooted her own hands up to squeeze her breasts through the thin material of her dress.

  “Oh, it's too much!” she groaned, and craned her head up to watch her fingers pinch her aching nipples.

  Her pussy gushed out more strong flows of juices, ripped from the depths of her loins by the ceaseless marauding of Peter's fingers.

  This can't go on much longer! she thought wildly.

  Peter eased back with his fingers, then skidded a solitary finger over the ridge of Marilyn's slit, foraging through the gluey mess until the tip of the finger encountered her clitoris.

  “Oh, you poor baby, it's so hard and big,” he said, stroking the glans of the girlish erection. “You must ache with wanting to come, it's so tense.”

  “Yes! Help me, Peter! I've got to come or I'll lose my mind!”

  “Well, this isn't the best way...”

  Peter drew his hands away from Marilyn's cunt.

  “Roll over and get up on all fours, baby; then I'll take care of everything.”

  Marilyn groaned with impatience. She didn't see the sense of Peter's request, but she was far too thoroughly jacked-up to waste time arguing with him. If she had to get on all fours, she'd do so; she really wanted Peter to start fucking her.

  “That's good, baby,” Peter murmured, reaching up to fold the back of her dress off her ass.

  “Do something!” Marilyn pleaded.

  Peter got up onto the sofa behind her. He brought his nose close to her asshole and sniffed deeply.

  “Hey!” Marilyn yelped. “What are you— ooh...”

  Peter edged his nose forward till it was thrust obscenely into the maw of her cunt.

  “Ooh, golly!” she squealed, her hips jerking in response to the tickling pressure. “This is so nasty!”

  Peter grinned broadly, his face flushed by his welling lust.

  “This is wicked!” Marilyn said more hoarsely, shuddering with desire despite her attitude.

  Peter's nose abruptly skidded up and stroked against her tiny puckery anus.

  “Ooh... please... No...” Marilyn groaned, her bowels churning and convulsing as she felt the tip of his tongue beginning to lash repeatedly against her asshole.

  Her cringing elastic rear aperture was so sensitive to the juicy stimulation that she was barely able to keep from screaming. Passion and humiliation made her cheeks flush deeply and her eyes water, and her hips began to rotate in tight circles as Peter's tongue concentrated its increasingly vigorous attentions right inside the tiny pucker of her anus.

  Once again Peter started dragging his tongue through her grossly exposed wet pussy, which throbbed and spasmed as powerful jolts of pleasure sizzled throughout its swollen flesh.

  “Ooh, Peter, it's so indecent, what you're doing!” Marilyn cried.

  “Nonsense,” Peter retorted, then quickly returned to licking away between her thighs, his educated tongue sweeping more and more rapidly, with greater and greater reach, through her slit.

  Marilyn felt his thick tongue rhythmically frigging her bloated clitoris. She emitted a heavy, throat-raking grunt of desire, and she spread her knees farther apart on the sofa, giving him easier and more thorough access to her private parts.

  “Oh, Peter,” she husked, lowering her head and trying to peer under her torso at him.

  With a last harsh lick at the tip of her clitoris, Peter ceased violating Marilyn's loins with his tongue. Backing up and squatting slightly, he heaved up from his haunches and launched his muscular torso heavily onto her back.

  Peter's vigorous manipulations of her wet cunt had strongly jacked Marilyn up, but his abandoned tonguing of her slit had put in the shade the sensations she had been experiencing. And now, his sudden mounting of her sent the level of her lust soaring even higher, penetrating her cunt with painfully potent electric charges of ecstasy.

  Peter unzipped his fly, then hunched forward, and his throbbing erection fairly burst forth from his briefs. The stiff purple head of the shaft bobbed and twitched as it was extruded from the heavy folds of his foreskin, and presently its extreme tip nosed into the tight, puffy maw of Marilyn's pussy.

  Peter gave out a low-pitched, shuddering growl of a sound that was more animal than human in the sort of passion it laid bare.

  He jabbed strongly but, at first, ineffectively against Marilyn's cunt.

  “Lower your head and shoulders, baby,” he rasped. “Get your bottom up for me. Let me lodge my cock in your slit and fuck it on into you.”

  Marilyn's hips jerked higher as she hurried to obey. All resistance had been boiled out of her; she wanted only to do whatever was necessary to enable Peter to penetrate her cuntal throat as quickly as possible.

  Peter let out a rumbling growl as he hunched forward more determinedly, and his massive erection ripped into Marilyn's sucking depths with the ease of a hot knife blade penetrating soft butter.

  “Aiieee!” Marilyn hissed, her face slamming against the sofa's cushion and skidding for almost a foot.

  Not even taking the time to raise her face, she heaved up and flung her arms out far before her in a vain attempt to dislodge Peter's thick weapon from her brutally ravaged passage.

  Peter had only to lurch forward with her, which he did with full-blown ferocity. He bore down on her more heavily than ever with his straining torso, embedding his mighty shaft still deeper in her quaking hole and forcing her into a ludicrous posture of supplication.

  Marilyn hissed with pain again, sure that she was being viciously gored by Peter's rampant cock. Her twat felt raw from stem to stern, and she couldn't help but believe that its tender membranes were torn and bleeding.

  “Oh, no! Help me, Peter! Oh, get it out! You've got to get it out!”

  The stretching Peter's hilt-deep cock was giving her passage was truly terrible, as Peter could well imagine; but far from intending to withdraw the thick shaft, Peter said, “Baby, I'm going to fuck you to a frazzle!”

  “Oh, no, no, you're killing me!” Marilyn yelped, feeling Peter's huge shaft beginning to piston in her spasming channel. “Please, Peter—ooh, in God's name, get off me! Pull it out! You're screwing your way into my belly, Peter!”

  “It can't be all that bad, baby,” Peter groaned. “If you'd only start matching my thrusts instead of fighting them, you'd find your suffering turning into the most wonderful experience of your life in no time at all.”

  Marilyn was willing to try anything if there was a chance it might relieve the unbearable pain she was enduring. Gritting her teeth and steeling herself for the cruelest sort of letdown, which she more than half-expected, she waited for Peter to stab forward again, then screwed her hips back at full speed to meet his sledgehammer thrust.

  “Ooh, it works!” she squealed, churning the wet neck of her womb against the rounded shape of Peter's glans.

  Marilyn was shocked to find that such a full-blown change of feeling was possible in so little time. She'd been suffering unrelieved agony of the most punishing sort, but now she was enjoying very special sensations of deep-reaching rapture.

  Squealing from the sheer delight of it, she thrust back again to meet another of Peter's pile-driving jabs.

  And she found out that the best was yet to come! Her pussy started to tingle and simmer with skyrocketing rut, and the deep fleshy feelings grew stronger and stronger with each new probing of Peter's stiff shaft.

  Marilyn's reddened face was inflamed with the most intense sort of passion, and her mouth gaped open to send thick flows of saliva spilling across her cheeks and dribbling down her chin.

  “Was I right or wasn't I?” Peter husked.
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  Marilyn was too preoccupied with what she was experiencing to answer him, or indeed even to have noticed that he'd spoken. She knew from the preliminary explosions thundering through her loins that her time was already close, and she couldn't tear her attention away from that momentous realization, not even for a moment. All her senses were primed to withstand what she knew was going to be a climax of truly magnificent proportions, and she dared not—

  “Oh, good Lord! Here it is! Fuck me, Peter! Do it harder! I'm coming! I'm coming!”

  Her body shook from head to toe as her pussy squeezed Peter's driving cock with near-crushing force. Her eyes went wide, wild; then an incredibly powerful shock wave of rapture convulsed her loins. She curled her toes and dug into her palms so fiercely with her nails that she drew blood—and it was now, and it was inexpressibly blissful.

  Peter fucked her with such abandon he actually farted, and he almost blushed at his indiscretion, though he didn't falter in his mad onslaught.

  Gripped by a primal feeling of tenderness for his conquest, he kissed Marilyn between her shoulder blades as he screwed his cock into her incandescent depths.

  “Oh, Jesus, me, too!” he growled. “I'm coming, too!”

  And come he did, for a flame seared its way down his painfully expanded urethra and touched off a chain reaction of explosions in the depths of the swollen storage tanks of his seed.

  “Give it to me, Peter!” Marilyn groaned mindlessly, still swept up by her own orgasm. “Shoot your stuff deep into me 'til it drowns my cunt!”

  The inner lips of Marilyn's cunt suddenly flashed apart to an incredible extent as Peter's convulsing loins began pumping a mighty gusher of semen into her overburdened passage. The frothy white blasts pummeled her cervix with violent force, then surged back along the succulent, gluey walls of her pussy hole and sprayed out about the massive, pluglike root of the erupting cock.

  Marilyn waited until Peter had spewed the last stinging jets of his release into her twat; then she sprawled out on the sofa under his hunkering form, collapsing like a discarded wax figure melting in the noonday sun.