1. Oh You Bastard!


    Date: 1/13/2016, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: purpleshade, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    says arrogantly while wiping his cock clean on my summer floral dress. "Who's a dirty little fucking cunt then! What are you without this?" he asks rhetorically, pushing his thick girth deep inside me. "Oh you cunt, oh you cunt," he whimpers as his eight inch beautiful cock commences its contractions. He brushes my hand away gently, takes my dark nipple into his mouth, as I attempt to finger my nipples. His swearing turns me on so much, "Ah, ah, please don't come yet", I cry out, "please fuck me like this every night..." My thick hairy legs lock tight around his tiny athletic waist, not wanting to lose the elation of being fucked by such a beautiful rogue, by such a beautiful bastard! He lifts my arms above my head, pinning me down from the wrists. I squirm with delight, not wanting to break free, my glass bangles jingling with joy. My natural floppy tits sway with the rapid thrusts, his solid stomach muscles pressing against my soft chubby tummy. May is one of his work colleagues, a beautiful petite girl with a figure to die for. She is dress size six, has a golden bronze complexion, beautiful white teeth, and black hair. They both keep their pretence up during dinner, I play along, not letting on that I've tasted her arse and feet through his slobbery saliva. "I shan't be too long dear," he says, as he takes her back to her hotel to finalise the paperwork. I've waited all night for him to return, the sweltering heat playing havoc with my drenched clit. In sheer ...
    frustration, I head off to bed alone, knowing full well that he won't return until the early hours. The room is heaving with humidity. I let out a sigh of relief as I fling my soaked knickers across the moonlit room. I lift my floral dress over my head, the tits swaying happily as the open curtain gives the neighbour a friendly view. I slump back on the sumptuous bed and reach for my large black dildo, or the 'bastard' as I prefer to call it. The 'bastard' is long and thick, the tip being slightly lighter and showing the foreskin in more definition. The veins ripple with valour as it feels so wanted in my hands. I stroke the drenched minge lengthwise before inching it into the nirvana of my soft supple inner womb. 'Oh you bastard, oh you bastard!" I squirm, as the soft cool latex dives mercilessly into my sanctum. The thrusts become thick and fast, my wrists become incapable of letting go, even if I wanted to. My back arches, toes curl, as the bastard thrusts with great gusto. "Stop you bastard!, stop you bastard!" I whimper. "I don't want you to make me pregnant, just because he hasn't been able to," I plead, but the bastard continues relentlessly. "Please don't come inside me! Please don't...", I say, as the thrusts begin to gather greater momentum and the head begins to throb and expand. My pleas go unheard as the bastard is glued to my hand, my wrist holding on for dear life, not wanting to let go even if my life depended on it. The bastard was at the point of no return. In my ...
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