1. A Question of Gender


    Date: 10/30/2017, Categories: Bisexual, Author: marlowe, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    her words breathed in a surreptitious whisper. The untimely hooting of an owl somewhere in the darkness startled him. Glancing nervously over his shoulders, pulling his zip down and lowering his pants to his knees, unfolding the gruesome piece of flesh from the warm confines of his briefs, the long white column bobbing and swaying in the moonlight, casting sinister shadows over the dead and forgotten. “Fuck me,” she gasped. “Another monster in my life,” she smiled, triumphantly. “I hope you’ve got that registered as a dangerous weapon” she mockingly teased, her eyes widening, her lips parting, easing him into her warm mouth, sucking the swollen limb with eagerness on the way in, dragging her big teeth over the long length on the way out, never once taking her eyes off her husband’s headstone. The blow-job was given with the well-practiced skill and creative longevity that you would expect from a scorned and bitter woman, although the running commentary of filth at her husband’s headstone wasn’t really necessary. “I don’t want to finish you here,” she smiled reassuringly, the suggestive implication in her voice now taking on a sober and more sensible tone. “Take me home.” The untimely death of her husband and the final resolution of his business affairs must have left Sarah Davison financially at ease. The five-bedroom detached house on a small residential estate in the leafy hamlet of Ellington village was truly outstanding. It was never going to be easy. The plaster ...
    cast was always going to make it awkward and complicated. Just removing her clothes and getting her into bed was a libido deflating task. A painful adjustment and a cautious manoeuvre, hovering precariously over the end of the bed, half on the floor and half on the bed, one leg straight and one leg bent, her arms outstretched with both hands flat on the mattress supporting her weight, shuffling uncomfortably, opening her legs and reaching back, a guiding hand easing the threatening limb between the slippery flaps and folds. The entry from the rear was unexpectedly effortless, the penetration deep, the swollen muscle filling her body, the carnal connection compelling and possessive, moving his hips back and forth with ruthless determination, a brutal and uncompromising demonstration of persuasive interaction, a responsive expression of unquenchable virility, battering her broken body into painful submission, a tireless and unforgiving bed squeaking fuck given with no concern or respect for her condition. She screamed. She pleaded. She cursed. She panted. She moaned and groaned. Two people groaning out their pleasure in a blast of filthy curses, the crucial point of climax explosive, his balls erupting, the dam breaking, the sweating mass of a mature woman swimming in a torrent of euphoric bliss, the outpouring of communal fluids wet, sticky, messy, sustained and momentous, a tit wobbling, toe-curling, leg-shaking release sucking the last breath of air from her lungs. Sarah’s ...
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