Beasts Are Better

“Here, let me do it.”

“Yeah, you know how to get a cock hard, just rub it over that honey hole of yours, baby, and I’ll ream it out good for you!”

Eileen Tremaine reached down to grasp Hank Barstow’s flaccid cock as he knelt between her widespread thighs and leaned over her prostrate body. As she did, she cursed herself for having delayed the exciting moment; she had had him firm and hard while she had been mouthing his cock but then she had conceived a sudden desire to have his mouth running over her hot-lipped pussy. Hank had been willing enough to eat her pussy — he was no laggard in that department — and in fact, had brought her to a pair of sharp orgasms through adroit use of his tongue. But the climaxes had been localized and had seemed to affect only her clitoris and the outer surfaces of her pussy. She had been left hungry for a deep penetration, a bull-like thrust of a prick which would reach into the very depths of her womb and release the tension still knotted there.