Riding Randy's rampant cock, she thought about the mysterious man in the raincoat.

Randy gasped and came, but his climax seemed insignificant compared to the unknown stranger.

The desperate teenager pulled her pussy off Randy's cock and crawled over to Joe. Taking his cockmeat in her mouth, she worked him up to another hard-on and mounted him, in turn. Her ass bucked and churned and her thighs tensed and rippled as she rode in the saddle of his loins.

His jism shot up into her pussy and, still recalling the man in the raincoat, Bonny thought that it was a feeble cum-load to feed a girl. Compared to the stranger's cum, Joe's cock cream seemed thin and cool and insubstantial.

Bonny milked him dry in her cunt and creamed on his prick, and yearned, still, for the mystery man.

Who was he? Why had he jacked off, instead of fucking her cunt or her mouth? Now that she had seen that gigantic cock and balls and been soaked by his tremendous cum-load, how would she ever be satisfied with less?

Bonny wondered if she would ever encounter the man in the raincoat again, never for a moment guessing that she saw him every day.

As Bonny fucked herself on lesser cocks and got more and more frustrated, the object of her desires was making his way home, filled with shame and remorse and guilt. How close he had come to incest! Yet he had resisted the unholy urge, and he could be proud of himself for that. Jerking off on her was not like fucking her. And she hadn't guessed who he was and he reasoned that no harm had been done.

His prick was still hard and his balls were recharging themselves. The event had been so thrilling that a single handjob had done nothing to lessen his fuck-lust. Jack was on his way home to throw a fuck into his wife, or so the man intended.