Teaching Mrs. ATM - Sex Stories

Teaching Mrs. ATM

... didn't dare to stop, maintaining my pounding into her chute, even as I deposited load after load of thick seminal batches into her rear. I didn't bother telling her I was cumming. I knew she could feel it, her tight quarters being filled with warm cum as it was simultaneously stretched. I was utterly spent. But Mrs. Palomini wasn't. Despite my climax, Mrs. Palomini was not done with my cock in her ass. Nothing that a simple position switch couldn't fix. Keeping my waist and her buttocks locked, we twisted awkwardly but efficiently in the backseat until I sat in the middle seat with Mrs. Palomini on top. She leaned over until her upper half wedged between the driver and passenger seats, sweat running down her back and onto my stomach. When she was positioned just right, she commenced her bouncing, fucking her own ass with my still hard cock. The squeeze of her ass muscles was more than enough to keep me aroused, her asshole basting my own semen along the length of my shaft as a thick, gooey and creamy spread coated my cock from base to tip, only to be recollected inside her moving anus. Fucking her with her own anal creampie was both sticky and slick at the same time, the sound of the gushy jizz packed into her chute were as loud as the slaps of her cheeks bouncing on my thighs. I am reminded as to why I leave my wife often to sodomize this other woman: she loves anal sex. I feel the familiar splashing on my inner thighs as Mrs. Palomini's orgasms yet again, her cunt ...

... spraying from the sensation that its adjacent hole is feeling. Even as the whore of a elementary school teacher squirted profusely in the backseat, I knew she has to do one more thing to achieve our &#034climax&#034. She had to clean my filthy cock with her mouth again. She was quick to hop off the saddle and bury her chin deep into my sac once again. She had more to clean off my cock this time. But it was no different for her, slurping the cum, spit and contents of her ass off my rod. I struggled to keep it hard for one last stretch, twitching as I felt the suction from Mrs. Palomini's throat drawing more bl00d into my erection. She still wanted me hard for just a little bit longer as her head bobbed in between my lap. Finally, my exhausted cock is clean, its filth replaced with just a shiny coat of spittle that glistens in the moonlight. Mrs. Palomini grips its base intimately to hold it up as it softens. She leaves one affectionate kiss at the very tip, her lips temporarily sticking to the urethra of my cock. Then she kisses it gently again. And again. She does not want to say goodbye to it. She suckles on the head one last time, but there just is nothing left to resurrect its firmness, so she tucks it back into my drawers. She composes herself, her legs visibly weakened and her asshole noticeably sore. We each exit the door from the back seat, one after the other. There is no goodbye. There isn't even so much of a thank you. Instead, we hopped into the driver seats of our ...