The Kitchen Karaoke Incident - Sex Stories

The Kitchen Karaoke Incident

... penetrate my ass. My liquid heat was pouring out of me like a faucet, so no lube was needed. I felt the sensation of having my overheated cunt pounded, a finger fucking my tight ass, and my own fingers on my clit, all at once.

The chill, winter air began evaporating the sweat of sex off my flesh, causing more, delightful sensations. Little pinpricks of icy cold rolled over my flesh as one of the most intense, powerful, and soul-shattering cums I’ve ever had ripped through my core. My vision blackened, my body lost all motor control, and I was floating on a wispy cloud of pure, sexual pleasure.

His hands wrapped around my torso, and, still fucking me ruthlessly, his cock embedded deep inside me, he walked me to the door. Carried over the threshold while getting fucked was both romantic and hot, and my hips pumped up and down on his turgid member, another orgasm growing inside my burning innards.

“Give me your cum! Cum for your wife; cum on her. Shoot it on my slutty face; cover my fucking tits while I cum for my husband.”

On the floor, the front door still open and letting the cold, winter air inside, his relentless pounding shook my body, making me swear, scream, and moan with every thrust. His hands became an erotic blur, pawing at my flesh, cupping my breasts, squeezing my nipples until the delightful tingles shot down to my feet, and fingering my clit and ass. I begged, pleaded, and demanded his cum, but he kept on railing me into oblivion.

Changing ...

... positions, he shoved me over the dining room table, taking me from behind. One of his hands mauled my tits, and I begged for him to abuse my boobs, go harder. His other hand alternated between spanking my firm, round ass and fingering my clit. His rhythm, pace, and erotic skills sent me over the edge, and I plummeted into a chasm of sexy, horny euphoria time and time again.

My legs lost their strength, and I tumbled to the floor. He caught me, sweeping me into his arms once more, and he laid me on the couch. His hands, a blur over my cum-soaked thighs, massaged my flailing limbs and then attacked my wanton slit. Three fingers fucked my quivering sex hole while his mouth encased my swollen clit. I could only moan and curse, begging for more as my hands played with my tits, tugging my already-hard nipples into taut nubs.

Finally, after me pleading for him to stop for over an hour, claiming I couldn’t cum anymore, he told me that he was going to cum.

“Give it to me! Shoot your spunk all over me. Treat me like the whore I am. I’m your whore—your whore wife!”

Rolling off the couch, I knelt on the floor, one of my hands furiously flicking my clit and the other one stroking his long, thick shaft. My lips lunged over the head of his cock, sucking as much of it into my mouth.

“Cum all over your slutty wife’s face,” I begged, moaning in passion. “I’m going to cum! Unload on me, please.”

Another orgasm was threatening to consume my soul, but I tried to hold off until he blew ...