The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 8 - Sex Stories

The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 8

... Gary and though he was disturbed by the perversity of the scene in front of him, a deeper system began to activate and he felt his penis begin to twitch in Rachel’s hands. She immediately let go and announced her action into the room. ‘He was about to come again!’

Mrs. Flaherty was now screaming and insensible to anything outside of the huge trunk entering and leaving her torn and shabby twat. ‘Oh, fuck oh fuck.’ She cried and Debbie, cruelly sneered and worked the big rubbery column harder and harder.

The cellar echoed to Irish screams until finally they enjoined and faded, replaced by a violent twitching on her inner thighs and torso. Deborah whipped out the dildo and began beating it against the now pulsating pussy. As the woman began to scream so commenced the real object of this protracted drama. It began with a few drips of juice, initiated by the older woman’s fingers which furiously rubbed her red, swollen clitoris. These then stopped while the vagina below visibly retracted, shivered, and then lurched forward, discharging as it did, a huge flood of internal fluid that sprayed over Gary’s torso and horrified face. The screams continued, and by a mysterious skill the spray was focused down into a series of thick jets which were directed, accurately by Mrs. Flaherty towards the man’s constantly twisting head.

‘Fucking yes!’ growled Deborah as she wielded the tool that had caused all of this mayhem against the inner thigh of the ejaculating woman. This only ...

... served to prolong the already monstrous orgasm that she was undergoing and more and more long jets of pussy juice splashed on Gary.

It could not last forever and one last effort from Mrs. Flaherty’s swollen cunt gave birth to an unexpected silvery rope that drilled into the poor captive’s forehead.

Rachel was aghast at this treatment of her favourite pet. ‘Oh, poor Mr. Fowler!’ she cried.

‘Don’t talk tosh Rachel’ Deborah responded, ‘Boys love this sort of thing, isn’t that right Gary?’ Gary knew one thing, his scrotum was being tightly held tightly by an unseen pair of hands that he surmised was the speaker. He had understandably panic in his reply.

‘Yes, yes!’

‘I don’t think I would like someone pissing over me’ replied a perplexed Rachel.

Mrs. Flaherty was winding down from her significant bodily event. ‘Darling girl. It wasn’t piss; it was beautiful love juice.’

‘You need to try it, cuzz,' Debby replied. ‘I’ve had a circle of boys all weeing over me, it felt fantastic.’

‘Mmm, it’s one of the great forgotten pleasures.’ Added Mrs. Flaherty.

‘Well, I guess, but it was so icky.’ The youngest girl conceded.

Gary was dazed by these recent abuses. Yes, he was party to three naked women, but at no time during this ordeal had he experienced any pleasure. Indeed, even the times where he had been brought close to ultimate delight, it had not been brought to fruition and the psychological impact of the disappointment played heavily on him. The appearance of ...