Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 371
Um, eat me! Make me cream, momma!"
"Cum for me, duckling!" Tibby moaned. "Let's cum together!"
"Yes!" Bryanna yelled. "Oh geez! Here it cums! Oh yes!"
Her back arched and her mother held on for dear life, never ceasing to drink her daughter's fresh juices. I felt Tibby's cunt spasming on my cock as she reached her climax, a velvety massage about my dick as her pussy writhed. I fucked her harder, feeling my own release approaching, then I spilled my fertile seed into her womb.
"Oh momma, I want to eat you now!"
"Absolutely, duckling! I'm all creamy now. You'll just love it!" Tibby pulled away from me, white cum running out of her snatch. She unzipped her skirt and threw it to the floor before falling back on the bed and spreading her legs, and her pussy, wide open.
"Wow, momma!" Bryanna cooed. "Your pussy lips are hugel" She reached out, tugging on one. "Mine are small. You can barely see them. You're bigger than me in every way."
"Don't pout, duckling. I'm all grown up!" Tibby slid her fingers threw her messy cunt. "Why don't you give momma a good lickin."
Bryanna dove into her mother's cunt, giving me a great view of the damp fur surrounding her tight slit. My cock was hard again and I buried into her teenage snatch. "Holy jeez!" Bryanna gasped. "He's a little bigger than daddy!"
"Umm, know," Tibby cooed. "Doesn't that cock just feel wonderful pumping in and out of you!"
"It does, momma!"
Bryanna's cunt was a vice compared to her mom's, and I enjoyed every second that I fucked her. Next to Mary's pussy, teenage cunt was the best thing to fuck. I gripped her ass, spreading her firm cheeks and saw her rosebud asshole
Well, maybe there was something better than teenage cunt.
"Owww!" Bryanna gasped as I shoved my cock into her bowels. My dick was well lubed, but her ass was virgin territory. "Momma, he's fucking my butt!"
"Relax, duckling." Tibby cooed. "Relax, your ass will take it!"
"Okay, momma," Bryanna panted.
Her ass was tight ecstasy and I plunged in and out slowly, savoring the velvety feel of her. Tibby stroked her daughter's face and guided the teen's lips back to her juicy cunt. Bryanna's head moved as she began eating her mother's pussy and I could feel some of the tension leave her body; her ass wasn't quite as tight anymore. I started thrusting faster, enjoying the feel of my balls slapping against her pussy.
"Um, duckling that feels wonderfull Eat momma's dirty pussy! Lick momma clean! Oh yes!" Tibby's large breasts heaved as her face squeezed in pleasure. She gasped once, squeezing the sheets and then smiled happily. "Thank you duckling!"
Tibby slid away from her daughter, then crawled down the bed, kneeling beside us. She bent down, giving Bryanna's asscheek a big smooch, and watched my cock plunging in and out of her hole. Her hand reached under and I felt her fingers brush my pistoning cock, searching for her daughter's cunt.
"Oh momma!" Bryanna gasped, squeezing her ass on my cock. "Ohh, play with my clitty!"
Bryanna's hips started to move as her mother toyed with her clit Tibby kept kissing and sucking at her daughter's ass, leaving brown hickeys on white skin. The teen was cooing happily, her plaited braid coiled across her supple back. I reached out and grabbed it, yanking her head back. Her sapphire eyes shone with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me.
"Pound my ass, my Lord!" she moaned. "Oh, it feels so good! Umm, I'm so glad you took my anal cherry! I'm gonna cum, my Lord!" A low, throaty moan escaped her lips and her ass squeezed deliciously on my cock. "Oh yes! Do you feel my passion, my Lord? Do you feel my naughty, teenage ass squeezing on your hard cock?"
"Fuck, I do!" I moaned. My balls felt like they were about to explode, but I wanted to cum in her fertile cunt so I pulled out of her bowels and thrust my cock-dirty with her juicy ass into her pussy. "Here it fucking cums!" I shouted, thrusting three times.
"Oh momma! He's shooting in me! We're gonna make a baby, momma!"
Jerrold Baxter - Washington D.C.
I knocked on the door of the apartment.
"Who is it?" a woman asked, her voice reedy, quavering.
"FBI," I answered, holding up my badge. "I'm Agent Baxter, please open your door, ma'am."
The old woman cracked the door open, the chain still in place, and peered at my badge. "What can I do for you?" she asked, a little nervous as she unhooked the chain.
Once inside, I whispered a word and I caught her as she fell asleep. I carried the old woman to her bedroom and set her on her bed. The Yashen speli would put her to sleep until around noon tomorrow. When she woke up, she wouldn't remember a thing.
Her apartment gave the perfect vantage on the Willard Intercontinental's entrance. I went back to the hallway and retrieved my gun case and started assembling my H&K PSG1 sniper rifle. The PSG1 was the perfect sniper's weapon, very accurate. The German's designed it for use in hostage situations after the Munich Games; it was very accurate, very deadly. I had a lot of experience with it; for seven years I had been a sniper with the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team, our version of the SWAT
Once my rifle was assembled, I walked carefully to the window, concentrated, and whispered, "Ashan." The spell created an illusion In front of the window; from the outside, it would still look like the window was closed and the shades were drawn. The spell was one of the many powers I gained when I sold my soul to the Devil along with the other Patriots last week.
It was the only way to save America. To save the world. I loved my Country too much to watch it become enslaved by Mark Glassner and his whore.
I opened the drapes and the window, set up my tripod and rifle. In the morning the Tyrant, Mark Glassner, would step out of the hotel and I would put a bullet in his brain.
I grabbed my pack, pulled out the CB radio. Mark controlled the NSA, and cell phones were too easily traced by them. I keyed up the CB, "19Q321 traffic is just fine in D.C." It was the code that I was in position. There would be no answer. Headquarters was monitoring the band, but they would never transmit; CB's are too easy to direction find.
I sat and watched, scanning the hotel. On the roof I could see the counter-snipers, soldiers with their own sniper rifles, scanning the neighboring buildings for someone like me. I laughed; with the Illusion in place they could never see me.
"KK254 the Brooklyn Bridge is traffic free," a wornan's voice crackled over the CB.
I smiled; Sheila Robbins was in place to assassinate Mary. If all went well tomorrow the world would be free of the Tyrants.
To be continued....
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