1. Keep on Running (circa 1976)


    Date: 5/21/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: marlowe, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    flooding inside her vulva, thrashing and shuddering, shaking and stiffening, contractions exploding with an overwhelming force, uncontrollable tears of rapture stinging her eyes, a commentary of crude gestures and shameful curses spilling from a filthy mouth. “FUCK ME! HURT ME!” she cried. “MORE COCK!” she hissed between clenched teeth, her voice momentarily fading to a breathless whisper before building to a guttural bark. “NO! NO! NO! Followed by YES! YES! YES! I’m...I’m coming....I’m fucking coming,” she screamed, her head thrashing violently from side to side, her arms giving way, falling onto the bed, her face smothered in the mattress, a collective gasp of crude obscenities fading in suffocating cries and choking gasps for air. A chorus of curses and compliments hissed through breathless gasps and wheezing pants, a blizzard of energy sweeping through her body, a powerful and sustained climax, an explosive release, a breath-taking orgasm consuming her body and flooding her thighs , her bottom glistening in smears of yogurt and perspiration, her breathing unsteady and erratic, wheezing gasps stumbling over breathless pants, an exhausted body rejoicing in the post-orgasmic bliss, waiting for the tremors to subside, waiting for the inevitable storm. The continuous use of vocal abuse, the moans and groans and barking growls, his heart banging like a drum inside his chest, the persuasion of impulsive movement, the connection of genitalia, a coital display of give and take, a ...
    tireless and sustained performance, a wild and insatiable shafting, a physical demonstration of lust and carnal need, his energy sapping eruption fast and powerful, a generous amount of seminal cargo spilling inside her body in progressive bursts, streams of emotional ballast coating the inner walls between her legs. He had only been in the bathroom for a few minutes. The time it takes to empty his bladder and clean yogurt from his body. So when he walked back into the bedroom he was surprised to see Stephanie holding a telephone to her ear and dialling a number. Acrylic nails tapped impatiently across the bedside table as he gathered his clothes from the floor, sitting on the end of the bed and glancing at his watch, wondering who she was ringing at this time in the morning. “Ronnie is that you?” she barked into the phone....“I thought you ought to know that I’ve just been fucked to death by a handsome young man with a massive cock,” she snapped, the crippling silence at the other end of the phone giving her enough time to add a few crude remarks into the mouthpiece. “And this time I didn’t have to fake an orgasm,” she laughed, a trace of hurtful scorn in her voice. The cold chill of nausea suddenly fed his panic, his head spinning in turmoil, the knots of dread tightening inside his stomach, his heart banging like a drum inside his chest, his urgency to get dressed increasing by the second, the violent threats of a maniac echoing through the earpiece, the reckless calm of a ...
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