Fleeting Glimpses of an Angry Wife - Sex Stories

Fleeting Glimpses of an Angry Wife

... over as she does, the vertebrae of her spinal column stick out like the crest of a dinosaur. Not much in the way of hips. The flesh of her buttocks is jelly in her wrinkled hands. Rising from its darkish brown valley, encircled by a crown of thick black hair, a thick grooved knob of dark flesh protrudes from her asshole. Beneath it, thin hairy cunt lips succumb to the force of gravity. They form an upside down 'V' from which dark fleshy inner lips sprout like some weird exotic flower. The dry 'plop' of a fart breaks the silence. The distinctive smell of fresh shit rises to my nostrils. 'Hold your powder, Helga. He's not in position.' A shove from behind wedges my head into the soft flesh of Helga's ass. My mouth closes around the fleshy knob. I am intrigued by it in a most uncanny way. There is something about it that makes me want to suckle on it, like it were a nipple. It has a tangy taste. I feel the knob slowly expanding between my lips, before it explodes with a 'plop' and a forceful gust of hot air invades my mouth. I reel with the foulness of the smell, but have no time to recuperate. A barrage of farts plops, prattles and sputters into my mouth, making the soft fleshy knob flutter between my lips. I feel my lungs inflate with the foul gas, but dare not cough. I am thoroughly embarrassed by the situation, but there is little chance of escaping the humiliation. My wife is behind me, holding my head in place. Above, Helga is grunting like a pig. Her ass is restless now, ...

... trembling under the strain of an immense force. Something is up. 'Make him lick the asshole, Liebchen. Helga needs a little stimulation.' 'You heard the boss. Lick, baby.' My wife taps my head. I start licking cautiously around the puckered asshole. Moisture has built up there and my tongue passes smoothly. Helga is pushing her ass into my face and starts grinding it lightly up and down. I start lapping upwards through the hairy cleavage, countering her movement. She likes that, because she adjusts her rhythm to mine. 'Ja ja, leck mein Arschloch, du Sau.' Helga seems to be going into something of a frenzy now. She is bending over, her hands on her knees now, her ass thrust backwards, her hips grinding back and forth in methodical strokes, like the pendulum of a clock. We work in perfect unison. Suddenly, she freezes. 'The mouth! The mouth! Quick!' Actually, I'm hearing 'ze mouse' because of her heavy German accent, which confuses me for a second. Helga is slapping my head impatiently, until she feels I am back in the toilet position, my mouth locked onto her anus. Her ass starts shuddering again, the fleshy knob expanding as before, only this time there is no 'plop'. Something thick and warm and slimy comes pushing through slowly, just an inch, then shyly draws back again as Helga's body relaxes. 'Don't you dare spit or gag, toilet mouth', my wife whispers in my ear. 'I'll take that as a personal insult. Helga is my best friend. You'll eat every ounce of shit coming from that ...