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There was a certain pleasure in being this thoroughly screwed on alcohol:
1) Betty was having a great time hurling abuse at the television, cheerfully questioning the sexuality and endowment of every cute guy that popped into shot.
2) It made sense that she had a thick, long carrot rammed up her pussy and was licking her fingers clean of her own juices.
3) It appeared that Cool Ranch Doritos tasted better with a dash of Eau du Cunt applied by sticky fingers.
4 ) None of this, apart from a hangover and a weird tasting carrot, would come back and haunt her tomorrow. She’d passed “the-night-was-a-blur” drunk ages ago.
Her husband was away and she couldn’t stop thinking about sex, sex and more sex. Was it too much to ask to get fucked occasionally? She was gorgeous, she’d married the high school hunk and all she wanted was sex and babies and then more sex. She could take the cooking and the parties and the family stuff… but dammit was it asking too much to just get fucked?! A lot?!
She choked back a sob. Her pussy was going to heal up, she just knew it.
There was a knock at the door and she cast around, pie-eyed, for what it might be. Eventually her fuddled glare caught up with an open leaflet for the local pizza place. Her eyes lit up as she cast around for the phone, finding it dead on the sofa, also covered in her juices.
She was very sad.
Then she remembered the door and wondered if they read her mind.
Betty groaned, the carrot in her cunt sliding in further as she scrambled to answer the front door. Her foot kicked over an empty bottle and she slurred something affirmative sounding as she staggered to her feet.
With a scream of triumphant effort she got into a shambling stumble and charged to the door, gripping the handle desperately as she rebounded with a clatter of timber and an “ooof!”, her momentum opening the door after her.
She stood, outlined in the doorway, a hand proudly on her hip, the other pointing triumphantly at the delivery guy as she roared, “PIZZA!!” at him.
Not a him. A her.
It was the young woman who played the organ at church; big glasses, a long dark fringe nearly covering her eyes… big tits?! Big tits. Huh. Nerd girl was stacked. Kinda pretty.
She was wearing a stupid pizza place outfit that made her look like a mechanic. Obviously there wasn’t much money in playing the organ.
“Erhbviously there ishn’t mush money in playing th’organ!”
Had she said that? Or thought that.
Why was she cold?
“Gimme that!” she snapped, nostrils flaring as the sweet bouquet of pizza wafted to her and she seized the box off the young woman. The organist.
She shivered. She looked down as the cutie’s hands flew to cover that uniformed crotch, those pretty brown eyes wide behind the glasses as they stared at Betty’s crotch.
There was silence.
There was a thump as the juicy carrot thumped onto the floor between Betty’s feet. THAT was why she was cold! She wasn’t wearing any pyjamas. Or panties. Or anything.
“Move your hands.”
Betty blinked. She had said that.
“I said ‘move your hands’!”
She was naked apart from some pizza boxes and she was ordering around the bursa escort pizza delivery… organist?
“I can’t!” It was a sob, a wail, something in between, “The seminary college says I’m an abomination unto The Lord!”
“With a dick like that honey, The Lord is going to have to stand in line to get it ‘unto’ anywhere at all…”
Betty made to grab for the girl’s belt and realised she was still holding the pizza.
She was hungry.
With a desperate lunge she retrieved two slices and crammed them into her mouth in great, unladylike, chomping bites. Cheeks bulging she tossed the box onto the table and thumped down onto her knees, yanking the young woman’s uniform trousers down and letting the huge cock (nearly a foot long!) spring up, snapping the bandages that were supposed to hold it against a length of sleek, creamy thigh.
“Mmmppphh!” was all she could say around a mouthful of pizza as she nuzzled against the unreal-looking shaft, chewing her food frantically.
She chewed. She nuzzled. She swallowed.
She chewed. She nuzzled. She swallowed.
… and moaned like a nympho.
The girl’s hands were in her hair and Betty’s throat was stretched painfully wide around the shaft, the cock dominating her face like something out of an extreme dildo flick. Betty gripped the woman’s naked ass and pulled it towards her face, casually choke-fucking herself as she let the alcohol make the decisions. Her neck felt… incredible.
The monster she was deep (DEEP) throating was stretching her gullet, the pulse of it thumping, echoing in her heaving chest.
She groaned as the hips she was holding jerked away, only to emit a lewd gurgle as the belly of the girl slapped her in the face, the huge member pistoning into her face again. The grip the girl had on her hair was intense, using Betty’s head like a bobbing, slobbering fleshlight.
A strangled grunt was all the warning Betty got before her head was powered down the shaft and the cock was hilted in her teary-eyed crimson face. The first shot felt like throwing up in reverse, a huge shot of warm liquid hosing down her oesophagus and slamming into her belly. Then it happened again. And again.
She shivered as she came, rolling her eyes back as the dominant head fuck just *did* something to her sex drive, kicking her horny lusts over into pure sensual passion.
She was officially a blowjob slut. Or a gag-fucking slut. Or whatever.
She wanted more.
Hauling the cock out of her mouth, she hiccuped and coughed up thick sperm, coating her huge tits in it, mouth open and gasping as she was blasted in the face with the next streamer. She ducked her head for the follow up and watched dazedly as the blast spun the pizza box, flipping the lid open – the streamer after it slathered pepperoni pizza with hot, gnarly jizz.
“Yer fuckin’ backed up there Organ Girl!”
Betty rubbed the spunk covering her into her flesh, pushing it down to her crotch where it was thick enough and shoving it, along with her fingers up into her pussy. She arched her back as the next, weaker shot smacked her in the left breast and her clit felt hard and needy against her palm – even fingering bursa escort bayan herself felt better when there was this much dick in the room.
She needed that jizz up inside her. No excuses.
With a shove, she pushed the girl off balance and wrestled her to the floor, the pair of them coming to a stop half in and half out of the house. Betty hissed as the full effect of the cold night air hit her and she looked around at the quiet houses of her neighbourhood as she gripped the girl’s still-hard cock. She spread her pussy lips with the other hand, hammering her hips down and knocking her own breath out of her lungs as several inches of premium pornstar beef impaled her, effortlessly stretching her pussy to unimagined sizes and causing her to snarl drunkenly in discomfort.
“Fukken… Fukken fuck me, bitch!”
Betty could feel the eager twitch in her dripping pussy as her words aroused the young woman, those pretty eyes screwed up behind those glasses as Betty lifted and squatted again, heedless of the thought of curious neighbourly eyes.
The organist’s hands flew to cover a moan, clamping over lush lips as she wriggled and thrust beneath Betty, warming up. Betty could tell that the girl was keenly aware of the possibility of being seen, of being judged. With a leer, Betty grabbed the young woman’s uniform top and jerked it up and over the God-nerd’s head, revealing those inviting tits. She felt the shaft grow iron hard in her pussy as she leaned down and roughly fondled that sweater meat, pushing down a heavy duty bra to get to the supple pale flesh beneath.
Her slap rang out across the neighbourhood as she hit one of the girl’s tits with her palm, watching it jiggle as she mauled it roughly. The young woman let out a squeak through her fingers and shuddered.
Betty leaned in as she began slamming down hard on the dick spearing up into her, the steel-hard head jabbing her cervix hard at the bottom of each thrust.
“I’m not gonna stop until you fuck a baby up into my womb, you little bitch… I want a baby. I WANT A BABY.”
The girl shuddered in dismay at those words, eyes wide and pleading even as her lush ass was hammering up to meet Betty’s with every stroke. Betty slapped the other pale breast and the young woman winced, covering those huge wobbling tits with her hands, biting her lip to avoid making a sound.
Betty’s lips drew back in a snarl as she rode the girl hard, her hands busy on her own nipples and clit now, being no less rough, no less nasty than she had been with the delivery girl. The sound of their hard fucking, wet slaps of flesh on flesh and lewd pussy farts, was the loudest thing out in the still night and Betty straightened her back and thrust out her heaving tits defiantly, her thighs burning as she powered her aching, abused pussy up and down savagely.
She gasped as she felt the dick inside her bloat, the head pressing right at the entrance to her womb as she sat down hard. The first load slammed through her cervix like a power sprayer, hosing her womb. And the next. And the next. She watched her flat tummy grow a little bulge but the deluge didn’t stop. Her belly pushed out further and she still milked the cock escort bursa inside her for every drop. Even as the deluge inside her subsided, she was moving again, leaning down and pressing the firm, swollen flesh of her tummy into the girl’s own pale smooth belly.
She forced her tongue into the girl’s mouth and Frenched her roughly, resisting the organist’s efforts to turn her head.
“You’ve put a big ole baby up in me bitch,” she slurred, “but I’m going to make fukken sure…”
With a punishing rhythm she sped up again, pushing the heat of her overstuffed middle into the girl’s body. Her kiss was brutal and dominating, but the cock inside her hadn’t flagged for a second as she worked it. She lifted her head to catch her breath, the cool air steaming with every lewd gasp from either of them as they fucked.
The young woman whispered something as she looked up at Betty, lust and shame and contempt in those eyes.
The sweating, dishevelled organist arched her back as her climax rose again, but maintained eye contact.
“Whore!” the girl hissed.
It was like a magic word. Betty clung on for dear life as an orgasm like no other tore through her. Every part of her felt like it had found purpose again, like all was right with the world. She was floating, rising on a cummy tide as she distantly felt a second set of detonations inside her, felt her belly bloat out further, looking obviously distended now.
Her baby was going to make her bigger than this, but this felt right. Really right.
She rolled off onto the porch and lay shuddering through the mother of all orgasms, heedless of the weeping young woman staggering back to her car and speeding into the night, even as she cast longing glances back at Betty.
Hands clamped over her pussy to hold the cum inside her, Betty rolled from one peak of pleasure to the next, silent but for the soft drumming of her heels on the timber of the porch.
Betty woke up in the bathtub, the desultory spurts from the shower now icy cold.
Her head ached.
Her stomach ached something fierce and she groaned, clutching it. She burped and cringed as she caught a whiff of the smell.
Her pussy was raw and she squinted accusingly at a cucumber lying in the bath with her and stinking of her cunt juices. It was half eaten.
Soaking wet and feeling awful, she stood slowly, over the course of several minutes. Her hangover was ragged and ugly, but even the cucumber hadn’t been able to quench the heat between her legs – her pussy seemed hungrier than ever. She was glad her husband was going to be back tomorrow. He was going to fuck her whether he liked it or not.
She stepped carefully around a bottle or two and recoiled when she caught a whiff of the pizza. That shit was funky. No wonder she felt awful if that was what the pizza was like in the cold light of day, it must have given her food poisoning. And it had made her breath STINK.
She was never ordering from those guys again!
The front door was open and the porch smelled of sex. She grimaced and blushed as she imagined exposing herself to the neighbourhood with a cucumber stuffed up her snatch. She hoped it had passed unnoticed.
With a sigh she walked off to find a robe and get on with the cleaning up. It sucked being home alone sometimes.
She let her hand rest on her warm flat belly as she shuffled up the stairs, trying to piece together the previous night from the wreckage.
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