Shelton wanted her to cum first; he wasn’t sure how close she was. Abruptly, he stopped.
“Whas… szzit wrong,” she panted. “Don’t stop now.”
Shelton felt her cunt pulling and sucking desperately at his hardened cock. For Pete’s sake, he thought, the hot crazy bitch was going to make him cum anyway… whether he moved or not! Quickly then, he withdrew his cock until only her thin, hair-lined vaginal lips covered the head.
“What? Why… are you… stopping?” she groaned, looking up at him with calf-like pleading eyes.
Shelton was fighting his own breath as well. He smiled, panting, “The photographs are taken.”
Sylvia blinked, as the perspiration ran off her forehead, across her eyebrows, and into her eyes. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The raging fires he had set in her loins had to be extinguished. No one could be that insensitive, that unfeeling. She didn’t care what she sounded like now… all she knew was that she had to have that life-giving instrument of maledom back in her. She was incomplete without it; she’d die, a screaming death, without it. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” she wept, knowing she was debasing herself even further by begging. “Please?”
Shelton felt the joy in his balls at the knowledge she was begging for it. Begging for him! For his cock! “Say what you want,” he ordered sternly.
“Do it to me.”
“Do what?” He was as unbending as his own prick.
“Fuck me,” she screamed. “Fuck me, please… fuck me, you bastard!” The sound of her own lewd expression caused the flames to leap even higher in her abdomen and she screamed again as she felt the cruel white submarine crash dive, sliding inexorably into the turbulent depths of her vaginal sea.