They both grunted with exertion and slammed into Jenny at the same time.
Jenny’s white knuckles went slack on Colton’s shoulders. The euphoria that sailed through her mind almost knocked her unconscious. Her head flopped forward and fell over Colton’s shoulder. Her blonde hair covered her face.
Colton and Gabby had their way with her, spreading out both of her holes, until the couple inches of skin separating her asshole apart from her pussy actually touched.
Colton said into her ear, “You’ve never had something so big up your ass before, have you?”
Jenny’s tongue fell out of her mouth. She couldn’t speak, so she simply shook her head.
Colton chuckled. He lifted Jenny’s jiggly body and then slammed her back down on his cock, pushing eight full inches of manmeat into her gaping pussy and almost hilting himself on her.
“J-Just a few more . . . inches . . .” he said, grimacing. He leaned forward and started sucking on Jenny’s pumpkin tits.
Gabby hugged Jenny, pressing her face against the older woman’s back, and slid her naturally lubed dildo up the poor woman’s sphincter with surprising speed.
“Babe, I think we broke her,” Colton said, lifting his head from Jenny’s hard nipples.
“Good,” Gabby replied with a smile.
They took turns sinking into the older woman with their respective tools. It became a tag-team effort—Colton thrusting, then pulling back to allow Gabby room to thrust.
In the end, they beat up Jenny’s guts so badly that she couldn’t even speak or feel anything. Her pussy and asshole went numb. Her mind was awhirl with ragged thoughts.
She came like a waterfall, pissing herself and squirting juices all over Colton’s lap. The fluids ran down her legs, down Gabby’s toned legs, and soaked Colton’s bouncing ballsack.
The bedsheet between Colton’s thighs was ruined and waterlogged.
Jenny became so sweaty that she nearly slipped through Colton’s grasp on more than one occasion.
Finally, Jenny moaned. “C-Can’t . . . take it . . . anymore! You little devils are too much for me!”
Colton and Gabby grinned at each other, their eyes locking over Jenny’s flexed shoulder.
It seemed like the MILF had been cumming for five minutes straight, starting from the time they had doubly penetrated her.
It was a quick DP session, because Jenny couldn’t keep her mind above water.
She ended up passing out, impaled on Gabby’s huge dildo and Colton’s throbbing slab of meat.
It took both of the doms a few minutes to realize that their slutty bimbo cougar had fallen into darkness.
Her body went limp, but Colton just thought she had grown tired and let herself go—that she couldn’t clench her muscles any longer.
But when a long stream of piss and fluids started flowing out of Jenny’s pussy, and she nearly fell backward into Gabby’s little tits, that’s when Colton realized what had happened.
Colton and Gabby made squishy, sloppy sounds as they pelted her from below, gaping Jenny’s asshole and cunt.
“She’s gone,” Colton said at last, holding the woman halfway down his thick shaft.
“Are you sure?”
Colton grabbed the top of Jenny’s lanky blonde hair with one hand, pulled her head up off his shoulder like he’d just beheaded her, and then pushed backward.
Jenny’s head limply rolled on her neck and fell on Gabby’s shoulder.
“Jesus, we fucked the life out of her, babe,” Gabby said, chuckling. “Should we stop?”
“Probably,” Colton said. He hesitated. Sighing, his hands clamped down on Jenny’s hips and pushed her down on his cock.
Grunting, he said, “But not until I fill her womb with my seed.”
Gabby smirked at him. “You vile stud, you.”
Colton’s neck veins protruded. He growled and pumped his hips into Jenny’s limp body a few more times.
“Gaaah!” he cried, then clenched his buttcheeks.
His thick load shot up into Jenny’s unprotected cunt. It swooshed into her broad tunnel and launched into her womb.
Then the rest of his thick jizz that didn’t make it into her womb came sloshing and trickling out of her uncorked pussy, once Colton removed his cock from inside of her.
He asked Gabriella, “Did you cum, babe?”
Gabby nodded. “This dildo’s double-sided,” she said with a wink. “I’ve been cumming for the past five minutes, just about.”
Colton’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “I’m surprised you’re still standing.”
Gabby shrugged. “The dildo stabbing my twat isn’t nearly as big as the one plunging into Ms. Steele’s asshole.”
“Ah.”
Colton lifted Jenny’s unmoving body and plopped her onto the bed. They both watched over her as cum dribbled down her legs, onto the bedsheets, and drool trickled down her chin.
Her eyes were closed, and her breath was coming raspy and phlegmatic—probably from all the spunk and spit Colton had gushed down her esophagus.
“Well, what should we do with her?” Gabby asked, crossing her slender arms over her chest. She still looked hilarious with the giant dildo sticking out from her skinny thighs—nearly as long as her forearm.
Colton said, “Want to fuck on top of her body, until she wakes up?”
“You don’t think we’ve punished her enough?” Gabby asked.
“Never.”
Gabby smiled. She went on her tiptoes and pecked Colton on the lips. “As long as I get to do it with you, Colty, I’d love to humiliate this hot ass bitch even more.”
Colton grinned and swept Gabby up in his arms. She yelped like a surprised schoolgirl, and her dildo swung in the air and smacked Colton in the stomach.
“Hmm, maybe we should take this off, first,” Colton said.
Gabby’s brows arched downward. “Unless you want to get a taste of—”
“No, no, I’m good,” he said quickly. “I think we’ve stretched out enough assholes for the day.”
“Fine.”
They embraced each other and locked lips, their tongues mingling together.
Colton pulled away, a strange quirk on his lips. “After we’re done, maybe we should give little Ethan a call—tell him to come gather up his used up mom?”
Gabby’s face lit up like a she-devil. “Really?”
Colton shrugged. “Hey, two can play the blackmail game, right? Maybe it’s time Ethan sees his mom for what she really is: a slutty, horny, cock-addicted little harlot.”
“Ah, I love it when you talk dirty to me, Colt. Keep saying filth like that and I’ll be cumming buckets in no time!”
With that, she wrapped her legs around Colton’s torso, and the football stud swung her around to the bed, to sandwich his girlfriend on top of the dominated Ms. Steele.
Stable Full of Stallions
~
Bella Beaumont
Taming Ms. Steele
Book 3
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2019 by Bella Beaumont
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
Also by Bella Beaumont
Little Big Man Series
Professor on the Prowl
In Too Deep
Professor’s Plaything
Three’s Company, Four’s a Crowd
A Teachable Moment
A Big Hard Lesson
When in Doubt, Stretch ‘em Out
Working Out the Kinks
Put in Her Place
Forbidden Lust Series
Played By Him
Awed By Him
Used By Him
Controlled By Him
Th
e Futagirl’s Journey Series
Rose Filled with Love
Rose Trains Her Professor
Rose Reveals Her Huge Secret
Rose Receives Her Punishment
Rose Gives Him the Shaft
Rose Submits to Her Prey
Rose Takes Care of the Nurse
Rose Falls for a Trap
Rose Meets Her Match
Taming Ms. Steele Series
Punished by the Stud
Back in the Saddle
Stable Full of Stallions
The Futa Girl and the Trap Series
Big Packages Come in Small Things
Too Big for Her Britches
The Bigger They Are, the Harder They Come
Her Royal Hungness
Dominated by the Cosplay Cuties
Give Them an Inch, They Take a Mile
The Viking’s Hunger Series
Raiding Her Fertile Garden
Chapter One
Late one night, Jennifer Steele was just getting ready for some intimate alone time with her best friends Blue and Buzz—her seven-inch blue dildo and her mini vibrator, respectively. She’d had a long day of job interviews and was exhausted after working her charm all day.
She just wanted to rub one out and get some shut-eye, but the night was not yet over.
It would’ve been tough for a 36-year-old woman who hadn’t worked in 15 years to find employment, basically with an empty résumé—and a long period “between jobs”—but it wasn’t difficult for someone as attractive as Jenny.
She strutted from interview to interview in a mid-thigh-length skirt, showing off her tanned, toned legs, and a striped long-sleeve button-down that strained desperately against her big bosom. Her messy blonde hair had been done up masterfully by her friend at the salon, and she wore bright red lipstick to draw all the attention to her face.
Even with the lipstick, she caught most of the male interviewers peeping her tatas before their eyes went northward. The top of her hefty cleavage showed, bulging out the top of her button-down, and it had the desired effect.
Jenny was sure she’d have a job by the week’s end.
In this economy, she knew she had to pull out all the stops and use every advantage she had to find work.
So far, her favorite prospect had been at the La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art, which was currently being renovated with state-of-the-art, modernist infrastructure. It sat on the bluffside overlooking the beautiful Pacific Ocean, and Jenny couldn’t think of a better location in which to work.
She also wasn’t completely clueless as to the subject matter—she had studied art briefly in college, about 15 years ago. They needed a tour guide and gallery usher, and she thought she could be great at it.
The director of events thought so, too, after stealing glances at her bouncing knockers and swaying ass while they walked through the museum.
It wasn’t that Jenny desperately needed a job—after settling with her ex-husband during the divorce, she could live a pretty cush life on the money she got every month from him. But she was getting bored and stagnant, and now that Ethan, her son, was so busy with finishing high school, she needed something to do all day.
She couldn’t just continue thinking about Colton Cunningham’s huge cock day in and day out. Well, she could, and she did, but she needed a new location where she could daydream.
The La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art seemed like the best place to do it.
As she slipped off her tight skirt, peeling the fabric around her wide hips and thick legs, her cell phone rang.
She finished stepping out of the skirt, then shuffled over to her bed, where she splayed out on her back and stared at herself in the mirror across the way. Her reflection showed her spread legs and black panties staring back at her, itching to be thrown off so she could go to town on herself.
She glanced over at the phone and saw the number flashing across the screen.
Jenny frowned and instantly dried up, instinctively closing her legs.
It was not Colton, as she’d hoped it would be.
The number said Bitch Boy Eliot—the name she had given for her adulterous husband after she left him.
“The hell is he calling me for . . .” she muttered to herself, reaching for the phone.
She imagined it must have been an emergency. There’d be no other reason for him to call, especially late at night. It was almost midnight!
Reluctantly, Jenny sighed. She reached for the phone, hesitating as it buzzed in her hand, and then answered it.
“Eliot,” she said in a flat tone.
“J-Jenny? Wow, I’m surprised you picked up,” Eliot said in his meek little voice. He had never been a dominant or commandeering man, which was probably why Jennifer had gravitated toward someone like Colton after leaving him.
“Don’t make me regret it,” Jenny snapped back, frowning at herself in the reflection. “Why are you calling? Don’t you know how late it is?”
“Yeah, yeah . . . yes, I know. I’m sorry, I just . . .”
As Eliot trailed off, Jenny thought she heard the hint of a slur in his words.
Is this motherfucker drunk dialing me?
Jennifer waited. Her patience was already razor thin. She didn’t have time for this shit.
“Well? You just what?”
Eliot’s voice was little more than a whisper. He cleared his throat. “Missed . . . hearing your voice . . . I guess.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. He sounded pathetic. And he was, in her eyes—all the money in the world couldn’t make him a real man. He was a multimillionaire, and he’d had the world at his fingertips—a trophy wife, nice cars, a beautiful home, a son who hopefully would follow in his footsteps—and then he’d fucked it all up.
Eliot Steele had cheated on Jennifer with a woman in her early 20s. When Jennifer had first found out and confronted Eliot, he’d become defensive and said it was just a fling—then he’d gotten angry and made the lamest excuse ever:
“It’s not like I’ve been getting any from you!” he’d shouted at her.
“You’re hardly ever home!” Jenny had shrieked back.
The whole situation had devolved from there. Eventually, when Eliot had started to come home later and later after work at his hedge fund company every night, Jenny started getting suspicious again.
A fling? My ass . . . she’d thought.
She had hired a private investigator (she had nothing better to do at the time), and her suspicions were confirmed within three days.
His little “fling” had become a full-blown extramarital affair, with hotel rooms and Hilton suites and balcony-top fancy dinners—the whole nine yards.
The divorce proceedings began quickly after that, and with Jennifer’s PI evidence, she’d easily won and gotten a nice, healthy settlement.
From there, it seemed her love for humanity diminished a bit. She grew a mean streak and became a bit of a loner. Even though she was still in her prime—everyone said so—she was vindictive.
The seed of blackmail and extortion had been planted early during the divorce, after she started hating men.
Then she’d fallen for her son’s boyhood friend, Colton Cunningham, who had blossomed into a ripped, hardbody football star in high school.
She had used a few of her scheming tricks to lure Colton into confronting her, and then he’d taken control from there.
That was the one thing she hadn’t expected—for Colton to have such a disciplinary way about him. Since he was just 18 years old, she had expected to do all of the “heavy lifting,” as it were: the seduction, the tempting, the bedding . . .
But Colton had dove in headfirst, quite literally, and he blew up her blackmailing plans and punished her for it. It had been the best punishment of her life, and her pussy had ached for a week after he had finished with her.
Of course, Jenny needed Colton’s big hard cock again, but she desperately wanted to keep her son out of it. She didn’t want poor Ethan to kno
w that she’d been fucking his best friend. Not only would it ruin Ethan’s relationship with Colton—and possibly the whole football team, since Ethan could easily be ostracized by the star wide receiver—but it could possibly ruin Jenny’s relationship with Colt, too.
Also, Colton was no dumbass. He had taken pictures of a leaky, bloated, cum-filled Jenny after he had first finished with her, and had threatened to show the picture to her son.
After Jenny tried blackmailing him again, very foolishly, and it had backfired again, she was almost sure that her whole life was close to blowing up in her face.
But Colton never showed Ethan the pictures. At least not to her knowledge—and she was sure Ethan would let her know if he found out.
Instead, Jenny had arrived at the hotel with the expectation of ruining Colton’s relationship with his cheerleader girlfriend—almost exactly how Eliot had ruined their marriage, come to think of it—and it backfired spectacularly once more.
The young buck and his mare had put Jenny in her place and spitroasted the life out of her. Colton’s girlfriend, Gabby, had sported a giant strap-on dildo on her small frame and stretched Jenny’s poor cunt open while wildly slapping her big bouncy ass like she was riding a bull at a rodeo.
Jenny had never known a young woman’s touch could feel so good.
After that second failed success—failure because of her blackmail, success because of the gazillion times she’d cum—she had promised Colton she would never try to blackmail him again.
And she aimed to keep that promise.
Anyway, now Eliot was talking at her and she didn’t like it. After he said he “missed her voice,” Jenny scoffed loudly into the phone.
“What are you hoping to achieve here, El?” she asked, leaning back on her pillow. There was no way she could finger herself while talking to her cheater husband, but she wanted to end this conversation so she could get that stud Colt back into her mind.
“I’m not sure, babe—”
“Don’t fucking call me ‘babe,’ Eliot. That ship has sailed looong ago.”
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