Half of his prick was in her now. The lower segment stuck out between them like a pipeline connecting his cumbags to her fuck-box. The dark veins were writhing up the underside of his cock-shaft.

Then he gave a vigorous lurch and buried his cock to the hairy hilt. His balls swung in and slapped against the curve of her upthrust ass like the clappers of a meaty bell, making a dull, solid thud.

"Ahhhhh!" she moaned.

He held the full penetration for a few moments, savoring the sensation of having every inch of his thundering prick enveloped in hot, wet, clinging fuck-hole and letting Marianna thrill to the joy of having her tunnel of lust stuffed to the brim with cock-meat.

His knob was throbbing in the depths of her fuck-box, like a smoldering ember, and his long, thick shaft was levering up the length of her chute. It felt as if she had a heated branding iron stuck up her pussy.

Her pliable pussy-walls clamped around him, molding her tube to the outline of his cock like wax melted around a red-hot poker, congealing to the contours.

Her cunt muscles began to ripple.

The inner rings contracted in a series of circles, running up his prick from the root to the knob, as if she were frigging him off inside her fuck-box.

Peter groaned at the sensation.

He wouldn't have to hump at all, if he chose not to. Her talented cunt would just jerk him off while he held his stalk buried to the hilt.

But then Marianna began to move in a slow, steady fucking motion on his stationary cock-stalk.

She pulled her pussy up and pushed it down, frigging on two or three inches of cock-shaft.

Peter began to plunge in, meeting her movements in counterpoint. He slammed up her cunt as she shoved down. Her hips twisted as he withdrew, so that her cunt-hole was winding around his cock like a nut on a bolt.