Carmen Takes it in Her Dirty-Hole, a short story by geronimo_appleby. Date added: 2012-03-25. Times viewed: 7331.
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- Intro: Carmen seduces her son's friend and takes him in the back door.
Red wine, afternoon sunshine and the swimming pool were always going to be a dangerous combination. The wine on its own, not that she’d drunk much, a glass or two ... perhaps three at most, was usually enough to make Carmen itchy between her legs, but the sunshine, gentle in the Australian springtime, on her bare shoulders helped too. Being topless she felt quite daring, exhilarated by the sun deliciously caressing her skin. She dipped her shoulders below the water, thrilled by the chill that tightened her nipples to taut points. Secure in the knowledge that there were no neighbours to spy on her while she frolicked in the pool, Carmen chuckled and then slipped the bottom half of her swimsuit over her hips.
“Naughty, naughty, Carmen,” she murmured to herself. It was almost a shame the high fence that surrounded the property, a large, single-storey place in the suburbs of Perth, meant that nobody could watch her in the water. The idea of exhibiting herself to unseen eyes gave her a thrill.
A shiver thrilled through her, a paradox to the warmth suffusing between her thighs. Her swollen vulva pulsed in rapid, syncopated cadence with her heart. Carmen regarded her body, surveying the contrast in skin tone between her tanned torso and limbs to the pale flesh of her bikini line.
All the sensations – the cold water; warm sun; the wine buzz; the sheer joy of nudity, glorious reckless freedom of being naked - conspired to make the woman, approaching middle age, horny.
Carmen hefted her breasts in her palms as though pondering the weight of melons. Her fingers, with their long, fire engine red nails, plucked at her nipples, eliciting a low moan.
Then, just as she contemplated touching that place between her legs, she heard a distinctly metallic click. The snick of the garden gate, which she must have left carelessly unlocked, caused urgent wings of panic to beat in the pit of her stomach. Concentric waves rippled away from her as she turned hurriedly in the water.
“Mark!” she blurted in surprise, her voice shrill with shock. The young man, with tousled fair hair, wearing Billabong shorts and a loose tee-shirt said nothing, merely gawped, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at his friend’s mother naked in the pool. “Oh God, Mark. I didn’t lock the gate ...”
“Mrs Morano,” Mark spluttered, blinking rapidly. Carmen saw the young man’s eyes flick from her breasts to her sex, albeit below the waterline, to her face, to the wine, back to her breasts, and thereafter anywhere else in the garden where she wasn’t. “Shit! I ... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ... I didn’t think ... Robert said I could use his bike ... Shit ...”
“Robert’s not here,” Carmen said, her hands held protectively across her breasts. “Oh God, Mark. I’m so sorry you ...”
Still avoiding looking at Carmen, intently studying the fence behind her as though fascinated by its construction, Mark said, “I’ll come back for the bike later, Mrs Morano. I’m really sorry ... Shit, I mean ...” He turned to leave, and in doing so couldn’t resist a final look at Robert’s mother. He’d always considered the dark-haired woman to be sexy. She was voluptuously put together and had a languid way of moving, as though her joints were somehow oiled differently to other people’s. Of course, being a young man with testosterone surging through his body, he’d fantasised romantically, and often lewdly, about Carmen. But this scene was something else. This kind of shit happened in movies, he thought. Dirty movies.
Carmen considered the situation akin to a horror film. Even in her shock she could imagine the bragging: I caught Robert’s mum in her pool ... naked! You shoulda seen her! Big ol’ tits swinging there ... She shaves her muff too; I could see it. Drunk, for sure. Bottle of wine on the deck next to the pool. You shoulda been there to see it. Fuuuck ... The ignominy burned her cheeks. What could she do to rescue the situation? If Robert heard about it ... If her son found out!
“I’d better go, Mrs Morano,” Mark said as he turned. “I’m really sorry ... I ...” He shrugged.
“Mark! Wait ...” Carmen called after him. Mark paused, one hand outstretched, reaching for the door handle.
In the moment that Carmen saw Mark’s expression, when he’d looked at her before turning away, she noticed, briefly, so very quickly, in that instant, a flash of raw hunger in his eyes. That look, predatory, conceived instinctively from racial memory, a primordial desire that sparked behind the young man’s eyes told Carmen on an innate, intuitive level of her own that she couldn’t define, curdled her guts. Fingers of lust tickled her deep in the pit of her stomach. Carmen’s already oily sex oozed, and she was sure that the water around her would be slick with the evidence.
If she’d been asked, later, when what happened next was all over, Carmen could not have articulated her reasons for acting the way she did.
But that was later.
“Mrs Morano?” Mark replied.
“Will you tell anyone about this?” Carmen noticed the boy made a concerted effort to look at her eyes. Difficult through the sunglasses she wore.
“I ... Uh ...” Mark hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “Uhm ...” He shook his head. “I won’t Mrs Morano,” he said, eventually. He meant it too, at the time.
“I’m not too sure, Mark,” Carmen responded. Her arms fell away from her breasts. Her insides clenched when she saw Mark’s eyes flick towards the exposed globes.
Mark licked his lips. “Mrs Morano,” he croaked. “I ... Uh ... I promise ... Er ... I wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m sure you mean it, Mark. I know you’re a nice bloke; you’ve been coming round for a long time. You looked after Robert that night of his eighteenth.” Carmen moved through the water, closer to the side of the pool Mark was on. “I’m sure you mean what you say, but ...” Her shoulders lifted in a gesture of uncertainty.
“I wouldn’t, Mrs Morano. For sure, I wouldn’t.”
“But how can I be sure, Mark?” Carmen’s head tilted as she regarded the young man, who still stood with his arm uplifted towards the door. “I don’t think you could help yourself. Not maliciously,” Carmen added. “I know you wouldn’t do that, but still ...” She shrugged her shoulders again.
Mark wished she’d stop doing that. Every time her shoulders moved that way, her big tits trembled like jellies. This situation was becoming unbearable. He was torn between the need to be away from the awkwardness, the embarrassment; but on the other hand there was Mrs Morano ... Naked. And fuck, was she ever sexy! Mark couldn’t be certain of the woman’s feelings. Was she angry at him for blundering in? Was she embarrassed? She had to be embarrassed – what other reaction could there be? But there was the way she’d let her arms fall by her side, and the way she’d moved towards him, through the water. It was those damned sunglasses, he thought, made it impossible to see her eyes.
“... But you’d tell someone, Mark. I know you would. You’re out, drinking with your mates, someone says something – tells a story or something ...This kind of thing always gets out.”
What kind of thing? Mark wondered. How many times had this kind of shit happened to her? For him it was exactly once, and this was it.
“Mrs Morano ...”
“... If you told anyone, Mark,” Carmen continued, interrupting, her voice low and throaty, “what would you tell them?” Her game had grown suddenly serious. Carmen found herself, all of a sudden, lewdly interested in what Mark would say.
“I wouldn’t say a thing, Mrs Morano.” The door handle slid down under his hand. “And I better get outta here. I’ll be back for the bike later ... If that’s OK?”
“Don’t go yet, Mark.” Her voice, something in the timbre, deep and dark and rich, stopped him. There was a hint of something in her voice – a velvet sensuality that stopped him from opening the gate. Instead he let go of the handle and turned. “What would you tell them?” Carmen insisted.
Now the sunglasses, previously a barrier, acted as a buffer. If Mrs Morano could hide her feelings behind those huge black lenses, then Mark could use them as a shield too. Nevertheless, despite the shades, there was still reluctance on his part.
“Not much,” he said. “Just that I’d ... uh ... Walked in on you and stuff.”
“Stuff? What stuff, Mark? What would you say you’d seen?” Carmen looked downwards, regarding her own torso. “Would you say you’d caught me naked?” Mark nodded with a nearly imperceptible movement. “How would you describe me, Mark? Would you tell them I was ... attractive?”
Another nod, this time accompanied by his tongue licking nervously along his lips as though he were under interrogation. “Yeah, Mrs Morano,” Mark whispered. “Attractive.”
“Yeah.” Mark’s voice came almost at a croak. “Sure.”
“Am I sexy, Mark? Do you think of me as sexy?”
“Ah, shit ... Mrs Morano ...”
“I want to know, Mark. Really, I want to know. I’m an old woman. I’m forty-three. I wondered if a good-looking young man would think I still had it.” Carmen slid her sunglasses into her hair. Her green eyes stared into Mark’s own blue ones.
“Yeah, Mrs Morano ...” The young man swallowed heavily under the intensity of Carmen’s big-eyed stare. “I’d say you’ve ... uh ... still got it.”
Carmen pealed a laugh. “Why thank you, Mark.” Her expression became suspicious. “You’re not fibbing to me, are you?”
The young man shook his head in vehement denial at Carmen’s moue of feigned scepticism. “No way, Mrs Morano. Straight up. I reckon you’re dead sexy. Really ...”
“What is it about me that you like, Mark?” Carmen could have burst out laughing at the boy’s reaction. She softened when she saw his blush. “Am I pretty?” she asked, smiling. “Is it my figure?” Her hands gestured to her body.
“You’re just ... nice, Mrs Morano.”
“Oh, Mark,” Carmen murmured, her head tilting again as her cheeks dimpled and she smiled. “I don’t just want to be nice.” Her hand planed through the water, sending ripples surging to the guttering. “I know,” she said brightly. “You should jump in here with me. You look so ... hot stood there. How about a dip and we can chat some more?”
The young man balked at that. Carmen knew instantly it was a suggestion too far. Turning away from her again, Mark reached for the door handle. He said: “I really better go. If Rob came back and ...”
“You should have a cold drink before you go,” Carmen suggested quickly. “Of course you can’t go splashing about in the pool, not with your mate’s mum, that’d be ... strange. I’ll make myself decent and pour us a cold drink. I just want to talk to you some more, Mark. Just to be sure you’ll keep this between us. What do you reckon – a glass of lemonade? Maybe a beer?” To Carmen’s relief she saw the young man hesitate. His hand came of the metal of the handle.
She moved through the waist deep water. When she reached the steps, Carmen used the shiny aluminium uprights to heave her body out of the pool. As she moved away towards the open French doors, knowing Mark would be watching, she deliberately exaggerated the sway of her hips.
“Come on in if you like, Mark,” she offered over her shoulder, pausing to give the man an opportunity to survey the curve of her hips and the swell of her buttocks. “Or I’ll see you later,” she gambled, “If you come back to lend the bike.” Then, after posing with one foot on tiptoe to show off the lean, long, taut muscle of her thigh, went into the cool of the kitchen.
Carmen’s heart hammered in her chest. Would Mark follow? Even if he did come, she wondered, what the hell was she playing at? How far would she take it, this dangerous, but oh-so-exciting, game? It was madness, sheer lunacy, and yet she wasn’t able to stop herself.
A minute passed. Mark wasn’t coming. There was only a hint of a chance he’d return later. Perhaps she’d scared him off? There was still the question of him blabbing, in spite of his obviously heartfelt entreaties to the contrary. Carmen’s stomach slid with dread when the insupportable idea slid into her head that her son, Robert, would hear about the incident. Had she now made matters worse by inviting Mark into the pool? Had her reckless ... (flirting?) ... made things horribly worse?
Carmen groaned with chagrin.
“Shit,” she cursed. She moved back through the kitchen, past the breakfast counter towards the glare of the outside. Her intention was to collect the half-full bottle of red and pour a stiff one.
What she got was another kind of stiff one.
“Mrs Morano,” Mark said in surprise as the pair almost collided at the French doors. “I was thinking of that beer ...” The young man’s expression altered when he saw Carmen’s continued nudity. “Oh!” he exclaimed.
“Come in, Mark,” Carmen offered, stepping back and sweeping with an arm. “I’ll get you a beer.” Thank God, she thought, relieved. He’d followed her.
As the woman walked to the fridge, with that smooth glide of hers, Mark noted, she again exaggerated the swing of her hips. After opening the refrigerator door, Carmen, in a calculated movement, squatted on her haunches. She knew, from where he stood, that mark could see her labia dangling between her legs. Carmen hoped that the sight of her derriere, the inverted heart-shaped curve of her buttocks would entice the young man to act decisively. Carmen smirked when she heard a gasp from behind. All the doubts and angst of a few moments earlier dissipated. She knew what would follow. It was inevitable.
“You know,” Carmen began as she reached into the cold interior of the fridge. “You could drink your beer ...” She proffered the can in her hand. “And if I got my wine from outside ...” She stood, pausing for a moment to allow Mark to see her body in profile. “We could have a drink .., In my bedroom ... With the air-con on in comfort,” she finished.
“Mrs Morano,” Mark managed before, after she walked slowly to him across the kitchen, Carmen leaned her body against him and kissed his mouth.
Even as he followed Mrs Morano’s hypnotically metronomic buttocks, Mark couldn’t believe what was happening. This didn’t happen in real life. It was the stuff of fantasies. But, he mused in a daze, if it did turn out to be a dream, please don’t let him wake up too soon.
In Carmen’s bedroom, a big space painted in bright pastel colours, with an enormous playing field of a bed, the beer and wine were left undrunk when the woman again pressed her body close to Mark’s. This time when they kissed, Carmen’s tongue pressed insistently into the young man’s mouth.
“This can be our secret, Mark,” Carmen whispered urgently as she hauled the man’s tee-shirt over his head. “You can come and see me and we can do it again, any time you want to, as long as we keep the secret. If ...” she added, sternly. “... If anyone ... anyone at all hears about it, it’ll have come from you. If that happens ... You’ll never, ever touch me again. Do you understand me, Mark?”
“Yes,” Mrs Morano,” the man managed to gasp as his shorts fell to his feet.
“Carmen, call me Carmen ... Since we’re going to be lovers ...”
“Yes, Mrs Morano ...”
Ignoring Mark’s apparent deafness to her instruction, Carmen reached for the sudden tumescence jutting from the boy’s pubic bush. She squeezed the girth firmly, saying: “Is this because of me? Did I cause this?”
“Mrs Morano,” Mark responded, stupidly.
“You do think I’m sexy,” Carmen purred, stroking her fist along the length of gristle. She gave a throaty laugh, a rich sound, fecund with joie-de-verve. “Look at you, all thick and hard.”
‘I reckon you’re really sexy, Mrs Morano,” Mark moaned, eyeing Carmen’s body. He looked to his penis, erect in the woman’s fist. “I’ve always thought you were something special, but I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this.”
“Robert must never find out, Mark,” said Carmen, suddenly serious again, her mood capricious. “Not ever. Do you promise me?”
“For sure, Mrs Morano. I won’t say a thing.”
“Good boy.” The woman’s breath came quickly now. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. The couple kissed; Carmen’s finger’s manipulating the young man’s erection, while he, with growing confidence and fading shock, felt Carmen’s skin.
Mark’s fingers traced upwards along the curve of Mrs Morano’s hip, over her tapered waist, and tickled the flank of one, heavy breast. The woman giggled.
“That tickles,” she said, wriggling.
“You’re so beautiful, Mrs Morano,” Mark murmured while his thumb traced the elongated length of a nipple.
“Pity Robert’s dad didn’t think so,” Carmen scoffed, bitterly. “And,” she continued, her voice breathy with burgeoning desire, “I think you’re gorgeous too, Mark. You’ve got a beautiful cock. I reckon it’ll feel so good inside me.”
“Mrs Morano ...” the boy whimpered.
“Don’t come,” Carmen said, releasing Mark’s penis. “Not yet. Cool down a little ... You can lick me and let all the stuff in your big balls cool down.” The woman walked to the expanse of bed and lay down. She opened her legs, flashing her bubbling, scarlet slash. I’m so fucking hot between my legs, Mark. Lick me. Taste me there.”
Growling, Mark moved quickly, his eyes ablaze. He knelt, forcing Carmen’s knees back against her shoulders so her sex tilted upwards, gaping. As Mark’s tongue touched her opening, Carmen grunted an obscenity. She sighed and moaned, her head rolling on the pillow while the young man’s tongue squirmed into her opening.
I’m going to come, Carmen thought. Holy fucking Christ, he’s going to get me off so soon! The wine and horny mood, combined with the excitement of this unexpected, illicit seduction spurred Carmen on towards her climax. Her hips jerked upwards, forcing her vulva against the young man’s face. Sensing Carmen’s urgency, and acting upon instinct rather than using practiced technique, mark reached his hands under the woman’s buttocks and pressed his mouth against her body. As his tongue probed deeper into Carmen’s accommodating body, a fingertip slipped into the crease of her buttocks and brushed the ring of her anus. Without thinking, Mark pressed the top joint of the finger into the tight ring.
The effect was instantaneous. Carmen climaxed in a terrible writhing paroxysm punctuated by grunts and obscenities.
“Fuck,” she sighed, eventually. “I came so hard, Mark ... My darling boy. You made me come so fucking hard.” She pushed at Mark’s shoulder. “I want to fuck now,” she cried, impatiently. Carmen rolled onto her side, her fingers scrabbling at a drawer in the bedside table. “Shit! she exclaimed. “No, this can’t be happening. Not now. Not fucking now ...”
Concerned, thinking there was some crisis – was she bleeding? Had someone come into the house? – Mark sat up, eyes staring around the room. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Condoms,” Carmen replied, her voice shrill. “There isn’t one in the drawer ... I must have used the last one ... Shit!”
Jealousy slid in the young man’s guts. She had other lovers. How many, he wondered?
“Do you have any?” Carmen asked. “Shit,” she cursed when the boy shook his head. “God, I want to fuck you,” Carmen revealed in a voice cracking with desperation.
“I could always pull out,” Mark suggested, hopefully eager.
“Not a chance. You’d squirt inside me, Mark; you know you will. And I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like with your swimmers in there. I’d get pregnant, Mark.”
To Mark the situation seemed suddenly hopeless. He cursed inwardly, thinking the chance had gone. For all her talk about being lovers, Mark thought that Carmen, when she regained her senses, would rescind the offer. After all, what had to be wine induced madness would pass; she’d be embarrassed, mortified at how close she’d come to fucking one of her son’s friends. He let forth an explosive, “Shit,” at the disappointment.
But Carmen wasn’t defeated. A thought came to her, OK, it wasn’t not ideal ... But part of her found the prospect more arousing than her original intent.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, climbing out of bed. Mark again stared at the curve of Carmen’s spine and the sweep of her buttocks when the woman went to a cupboard and, stretching her lithe body deliciously in Mark’s view, reached for a small bag on a high shelf. She carried the simple, plastic, zip-up holdall to the bed. She smirked at Mark’s questioning gaze. “I can fuck myself with this.” Mark gasped when a rubber cock waggled crazily in Carmen’s fist. “And I can tickle my clit with this ...” She held up a thumb-sized vibrator. Dropping both items onto the bed, Carmen reached into the bag for a third time. “And this is for you.”
The tube confused Mark. What the hell was it? What was he supposed to do with that? He could easily imagine Mrs Morano fucking herself with the dildo. Watching her do that while she buzzed at her clit ... Fuuuck, yes. But what could he do? Wank and watch? Would she suck him while she masturbated? Maybe he could come on her tits ... Or in her mouth! But what was the mysterious tube all about? What was it – fuckin’ toothpaste?
“Come here,” Carmen ordered as she climbed onto the bed. “Shuffle over here.” The woman unscrewed the cap off the tube. She squirted a dollop of some kind of gloop onto her fingers. “Let me get at your cock.” Mark swivelled his hips and his erection waved within Carmen’s range. “This will lube you up,” the woman said. “You’ll slide right in.”
Bemused, Mark looked first at his cock, now smeared with the goo, then looked at Carmen. “But I thought you said ... You know ... Without ...”
A low purr rolled on Carmen’s tongue. “My dear Mark, don’t you have a clue?” She looked at the young man, smiling, wondering if the penny would drop. He’s a little innocent for that, Carmen thought, and a wave of affection for the young man surged through her. “I’ll show you, Mark,” Carmen whispered, tenderly. “You just let Mrs Morano show you what she wants.” The exhibitionist thrill went through her again, the same feeling she’d had in the pool when she’d wished someone had been able to see her nudity. She rolled onto her side, her back to the young man. In that three-quarter position, with the uppermost leg forward, Carmen reached over the jut of her hip and splayed her buttocks.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Mark grunted, reaching for his erection. He gave several slow tugs at his cock, staring at Carmen’s sticky labia and the dark-skinned ring of her sphincter. “I wanna kiss your arse,” he moaned, still languidly stroking.
“Please, do, young man,” Carmen grinned, pulling her skin tighter. The folds of her sex reluctantly slid apart, her opening gaping obscenely. An ardent young bloke worshipping her buttocks was something Carmen had forgotten about. The enthusiasm with which Mark clambered across to her, the way he looked at her, devouring those private places with his eyes ... She purred again, her head lolling and her eyes closed when light kisses feathered across her buttocks. Carmen groaned when the young man’s tongue squirmed into her sex. “The other hole,” Carmen sighed. “Lick the other one. Go on, my dirty hole ... Lick it ...” Mark didn’t hesitate.
Then, as his tongue probed Carmen’s sphincter, Mark realised why his cock was so slippery with the goo from the tube. It was lube! He recognised her intention now. Mrs Morano wanted him to ...
“Mrs Morano,” he gasped. “Is that what you want me to do?” He nodded towards Carmen’s lewd display. “You want me to put it ...” He nodded again. “In there,” he finished.
“I do, Mark,” Carmen grinned. “That’s exactly it. Fuck me in my arse.” Her eyes turned to slits, Mark watched her expression turn sly, vulpine. “Do you want to do that to me, Mark?” Carmen’s tone was teasing. “Have you ever fucked a lady in her arse? I’ll bet you haven’t. Well here’s one now who’s desperate for you. She wants you to stick that thing into her shitter and fuck her till you split her in two.”
“Fuck ... Mrs Morano, I ...”
“It’s so bad, Mark, so naughty. That’s why I like it. It’s a nasty thing to do ... fucking a lady’s arse ... But I like it. It burns and itches ... and my cunt ...” Carmen’s fingers slid over her clitoris when she uttered the obscenity. She gasped. “I’ll be fucking my cunt with the dildo while you kick my back doors in ...” Carmen paused, fingering her oily sex before sliding a wet fingertip into the puckered ring of her anus. “Come on, baby,” Carmen groaned. “Get behind me. I want you in there – Now!”
What was it about the young man and this situation that made her talk that way? Carmen didn’t know the answer. With her occasional lovers, and there had only been a handful since her husband had left, she was usually more reserved, especially during the first intimacies, but something about this was different. Perhaps it was her own overwhelming need? Maybe the wine and the sun ..? More likely, she surmised in the brief moment of clarity before Mark’s cock nudged at her body, was it was the innocence of the young man, the shock value, the delicious thrill of something so taboo that prompted her to act and talk that way.
And then there were no questions, everything focussed on the dark opening at the back of her. She felt Mark butt against her body, felt the natural resistance from her sphincter. Despite the lubrication, Carmen heard the man mutter a curse. “Mrs Morano,” he implored.
“Just push, Mark. Just push, nice and easy and slow. Don’t stab it in, just slide. It’ll go ... It’ll—” She gave a squeak of surprise when Mark’s cock head popped the tight ring. Then, as the thing glided into her with a sublime slide, she moaned: “All the way in, Mark. Pack me with meat. Fill me up back there.” Her fingers scrabbled for the rubber dildo. With the flexible faux-penis wedged in front, and with her rectum full of living gristle, Carmen twisted the cap of the small vibrator. An angry buzzing filled the room, an accompaniment to Carmen’s animal grunting.
Mark, lying alongside and somewhat behind Carmen like spoons, couldn’t believe the twist in his afternoon. Half-an-hour previously he’d been filled with thoughts of borrowing his friend’s motorcycle, and now, here was, with his hard cock jammed to the root, gripped by a beautiful, mature woman’s sphincter. The act, inconceivable to him a few moments ago, felt so dirty, so thrillingly depraved and so wrong, but to which he’d been guided, quite literally, by an experienced Carmen, was so arousing all he could do was gulp, hold Carmen’s hip, and begin instinctively to fuck into her. He could feel, through that thin membrane twixt the two channels in Carmen’s body, the push of the rubber cock against his own pulsing length.
The couple fell into a natural rhythm. When Carmen pulled the dildo from her body, Mark slid his cock into her anus. When she forcefully jammed the thing back into herself, Mark withdrew. In the background was the fall and rise of the hornet-buzz of the finger vibrator. The urgency within her caused Carmen stab roughly at herself; she jammed the dildo into her opening while at the same time urging the young man who so deliciously filled her anus to fuck her just as roughly.
“It burns,” Carmen gasped. “But don’t stop,” she cried when Mark, concerned he was hurting her, slowed, “I like it. In fact I love it stretching me there. I’d forgotten how good it feels to be arse-fucked.” Carmen pressed her hand into the bed, craning her neck to regard her youthful lover. “You bad boy,” she grinned, voice croaking. “You shouldn’t be there, behind me, doing that to me. But I’m so glad you are. I was so fucking horny ...” Carmen retrieved the finger vibrator and concentrated on her approaching climax.
She was tight, so tight around his girth he was afraid of splitting her open, but her lewd assurances and exhortations to stuff my arse with that cock combined with his own flaring lust, caused Mark to grit his teeth, dig his fingers into her hip even deeper, and to comply with her wishes.
He recalled the puckered stain of her anus when Mrs Morano had spread herself wide open and told him to lick there. Thick, sodden labia gaped obscenely at that action, while Carmen’s dirty hole had winked up at him. Being far from squeamish at the thought of putting his tongue near that place, he’d been overwhelmed with the heat of desire, squirming as deep as he could, probing Mrs Morano’s anus orally, wriggling his tongue into the dark, forbidden sphincter. Her reaction had been a long, low, somehow dark groan, a moan of undiluted pleasure that had rippled from Carmen’s throat. He’d then realised what the woman’s intentions were; the purpose of the lubricant.
Now he was balls deep in the gorgeous Mrs Morano’s arsehole, the apotheosis of sordid fantasy; and the woman was squirming and moaning, babbling about her burning arse, how it itched, and would he please cool the fire in her anus.
There was only one method he could employ. “Mrs Morano,” Mark gasped. “I’m gunna ...”
“In there, Mark! Let it go inside me. Wash me back there with your spunk. Fill my dirty arsehole with it ...”
The couple groaned in their separate yet somehow conjoined pleasure. Mark grunted and pressed deeply into Carmen’s body as the hot stuff squirted from him and irrigated the muddy channel in which his cock pulsed. Carmen, when her sphincter tightened against the throbbing penis, and she felt the fluttering of ejaculate deep inside her body, rammed the dildo into her sex to the hilt. Her legs came together, bending at the knees and trapping her wrist between her thighs. She pushed back desperately against Mark, embedding as much of his length as she could manage, and she groaned and swore and writhed, unable to fathom which place gave her the most pleasure.
When their respective orgasms cooled, Carmen kept the young man inside her body, relishing the sensation of his diminishing girth until, with a slow slide, he slipped from her anus on a slick of viscous gloop.
“You bad boy,” Carmen teased, her eyes glinting as she turned to face her lover. “You fucked me in the arse.” She kissed his mouth. “Am I such an evil woman, Mark? Seducing you like that?”
“Ah, Mrs Morano,” Mark groaned. “I didn’t ...”
“So we’ve got a secret, Mark? You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone? If you can keep our secret you can do it again; you can fuck my cunt too, next time. There’s nothing I won’t do for you, Mark. But you have to keep it to yourself.” Then the woman grinned. “Although maybe someday I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine, I reckon a fit young bloke like you could handle two horny old bitches ...”
She laughed at the expression on the boy’s face.
Written by Geronimo Appleby (Playa Samara, Costa Rica. March 2012)
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