Her mother's hand was raging in her own quim, and we had all been worked up to a condition of intense excitement by Rose's thrilling narrative. The latter cried out, 'Don't spill it: I want it too badly.' Then, flinging her arms out wide and spreading her lascivious thighs, she shrieked, 'Fuck me, Harry: fuck like hell. Oh that I could get you bodily into my cunt!' I lifted my head from her armpit, where I had been breathing the odour emanating from her full-blooded, lust exhaling flesh, and saw Rose's face blazing with passion, her lips parted and her eyes snapping.

What a splendid fucker I thought her! Firm elastic flesh, every bone well padded, glowing belly, and such thighs-as Ethel remarked, 'Once mother gets a man between those presses she never lets go till the juice is extracted from his grapes.' I rushed gladly to the breach, and Rose screamed with joy as she felt my prick enter her maddened twat.

'Shove it up, you devil… ram me like buggery… wash my guts out with your spunk, and be quick or I shall piss all over your blasted cock!' I fell on her belly, and felt the aforesaid guts fairly bubbling under me.

I was just as rabid by now as the strapping whore who was straining me to her nude bosom, and as far removed from any sense of bashfulness or decency. Noting the freedom of Rose's language, I made bold to repay her in her own coin.

'All right, my lovely bitch, wait till I get my spout fair into your pisspot, and I'll fuck your bloody arse off.' 'Good, good! Listen to him, Ethel: isn't he a goddamned cast-iron, twenty-two-carat whoremonger! Ough, that went well home. I believe your prick shot right into my womb… ough… ough.' I was driving with all the force of my arse, and at each stroke I fell flat on her stomach, the two masses meeting with a slap. Ethel's hands were playing round my balls, and her face frolicking against my backside.