Slowly and sexily the Lady Winderboddom unscrewed her bra straps one by one. With each violent burst of elastic, Hawthorne was one step closer to everything he’d dreamed about so messily the night before.
Her hands teasingly clasped her own grey mounds of skin. Her nipples were hard, or maybe a little soft. Hawthorne’s mouth watered; he knew before this night was done he would have all of those breasts between his legs.
“Thank god I put on two layers of condoms this morning,” he thought to himself as her last bra fell to the floor. When it seemed things couldn’t get any hotter, Lady Winderboddom squatted on the ground in front of him.
“Do you want me to blow you?” she begged, licking her lower lip. Because of their love, his passionate nods said more than words ever could. And so she blew onto his member as if trying to extinguish a great candle, and for some unknown reason, this was much more pleasurable than when he had tried it himself.
“Are you ready for my thunder?” he asked, suavely already knowing the answer.
“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” she said, her sex gushing forth with sweat.
In one swift movement he ripped her petticoat off her body, revealing her full glory. It was a really beautiful vagina. One of the best vaginas he’d ever seen. If pressed to describe it, he’d have to say it was like a big fleshy mouth with no teeth, or a leather satchel. And then they were inside each other.
“Oh wow!” she screamed with pleasure.
“Does it hurt,” he asked.
“Maybe,” she panted.
She struggled against his tenderness, again and again. Their crotches grinding together mightily, producing a pleasing symphony of squeaks and whistles.
Hawthorne knew he’d have to work fast; at the rate she was dilating, if she didn’t reach her woman’s plateau in the next five minutes, she’d probably explode. Deftly mashing his genitals around the area of her pubis, he whispered into her ear, “This is awesome.”
“Fuck yeah,” she moaned. Her body beneath him was warm and her skin as soft as his skin when lathered with conditioner.
Together they came openly and without remorse. Then again, side by side, and once more, from across the room. But though their undulations had barely just begun, they knew they must depart, for the Captain would be returning for his horse soon.
In fact, just then, the Captain’s fist struck the door loudly, sending the lovers hustling towards their clothing. “What are you doing in there?” he bellowed. “Nothing, Dad,” Hawthorne replied wittily.