I have a number of ongoing stories about Sian (pronounced "Shawn" - female equivalent of Sean) and Daire (DAW-reh) and the unfolding of their very intense relationship.
Sian was ready on time as per his instructions.
Impatient for his beloved presence, she paced the house, pausing in front of a full length mirror to check her appearance.
Critically she assessed what she saw. She was tallish for a woman, around 5'8". Her thick, sherry coloured curls were swept up tightly into a band. Loose, it fell in luxuriant, curling waves to her hips and was a secret, closely held source of pride. She felt sometimes she should cut it but he objected as he loved to bury his face in its sweet smelling bounty and would gather handfuls of silky curls and rub his beautiful cock in them. Her shoulders were broad and straight, her back a breathtaking curve to firm, high buttocks. Her stomach was firm but slightly rounded, a small sweet pouch between the bones of her narrow hips.
Cupping her breasts, she studied them critically. She would have loved more bountiful tits although he never complained. Although small, they were plump and firm with impudent dusky pink nipples and large areolas. The best part was that they were incredibly sensitive.
He would lip them gently, then suckle, pulling more and more of the sweet flesh into his mouth, sucking strongly until she would close her eyes and feel the tug from the back of her nipples straight to between her thighs, an insistent tug on her womb.
She was wearing the short, white skirt he had chosen that morning together with the black tank top. Cut low, her soft flesh swelled out of the top. Pale, silk nylons whispered up her long shapely legs.
Reaching up, she unfastened the clips that held her hair, allowing the rich burnished curls to cascade down around her shoulders and hips, a long tendril slipping into the valley between her breasts. Running her fingers through it she patted the gleaming waves into a semblance of order and grabbing her makeup, went to the mirror.
A brushing of powder, a sweep of mascara and she was ready.
Her pale Irish skin was almost translucent, resistant to sun and incapable of tanning – she had learned long ago to stay away from its harmful rays. Her eyes were large and double-lidded, their irises an intense, deep green flecked with gray and blue. A strong celtic nose, smooth cheeks and a small, expressive mouth with a clear sweet line on the upper lip and a plump, pouting lower lip gave her an interesting and arresting visage if not a traditionally pretty face.
The neighbour’s ever vigilant dog barked outside. Clicking on the high stilettos he favoured, her buttocks flexing, calves prominent, she hurried to the front door in time to open it for him.
Coming in, he threw his keys on the side table, put his briefcase down then stepped back to assess her. She stood, hips slightly jutting out, long gorgeous legs flexed, the mass of hair waving and falling silkily about her, the swell of pale breast above the stark black of the tank top, quiescent.
He walked around her, quietly, his eyes narrowed and stern, making her tremble slightly. She felt him at her back, her very nerves so attuned to his presence that it were as if he were touching her. Her sense of self, her barriers, dissolved when he was near, softening, opening, as if he could enter and claim her as easily spiritually as he did physically.
She felt his warm hand on her back, barely touching, trailing his fingers down over the taut buttocks to the bottom edge of the skirt. With one finger, he delicately lifted the skirt, exposing the pale flesh at the top of her nylons, then lifting higher, he studied the play of muscles in her buttocks, the sweet sight of the scarlet thong emerging from the dimpled cleft of her ass.
With the barest of pressure, he pushed into the small of her back. Obediently, she bent forward, feeling her ass cheeks flex and open slightly. She felt the slight push again. Breathing a deep breath out, she bent completely forward, her forehead touching the front of her calves, hands clasped behind her ankles.
He watched as her entire groin was exposed from the silk clad cleft to the narrow line of her thong barely masking the furled beauty of her anus. Her thighs, long and supple were taut, the firm cheeks of her ass gaped slightly, giving him ingress to her most private parts. He took his finger and ran it along the line of the thong. Scent suddenly filled the air, a musky perfume as her sex dampened the silk cloth.
Gently, but surely, he pushed the strip of material aside and then suddenly, with no warning, thrust his stiffened finger up her cunt. She gasped, and without conscious thought, pushed back, impaling herself further on his finger.
A sharp slap reddened the cheek of her right buttock, she stopped. Crudely, but unbelievably erotically, he fucked her with his stiff finger. She felt her cunt swell and dampen. Clutching her ankles tightly, she willed her hips to stay still, fighting the almost unbearable urge to push them against him. She opened her tightly shut eyes and stared between her slightly spread legs at his beloved self.
Pulling his finger clear he commanded her to stand straight. A bit dizzy, she complied and obeying the pressure on her hip, turned to face him. He held his hand before him, glistening finger extended.
Capturing her eyes with his, he slowly and methodically raised it to his face. First he held it beneath his nose, inhaling deeply her intimate scent, then his tongue flickered out. Fascinated she watched as he carefully licked her off his finger, sucking the last tendrils of dampness into his beautiful mouth.
Then, grinning, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own, running his tongue into the soft warmth of her mouth, allowing her to taste her own juices. He was happy, she was content.
Moments later, after a quick shower, he was set. Pocketing his keys, he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside to the car.
The top of the sporty convertible was already retracted, the soft leather interior open to the elements. Laughing, she lifted one long leg and hopped in over the door. Buckling in, they were quickly on their way – heading for the highway. Turning west and then north, he headed up towards cottage country.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"You'll see, don't be so impatient," he admonished her.
She wiggled, trying to pull the skirt down over her ass more. The car was small and her legs were long; together with the stiletto heels she was nervous she was flashing far more than a glimpse of thigh. Leaning over, his eyes still on the road, he grabbed her thigh.
"Leave it – I want to be able to look over and see most of your legs and also your crotch," he said.
"But everyone else will too!" she said.
"That's the idea." His voice was amused. "You know I like it when others can see my girl."
With that, he tugged at the skirt so it was pushed even further up and the scarlet of her thong was clearly visible.
To her relief, traffic was starting to drop off. She felt extremely exposed in the small compact car. Vans, trucks and other vehicles had an uninterrupted view of her legs and crotch, making her feel self-conscious yet at the same time, causing a guilty rush of excitement which made her feel sexually hyper-sensitive.
He flashed a devastating grin at her; inside, her heart contracted.
"Reach in and pull your tits out," he instructed, "don't undo your bra, just pull them out and let them sit on top."
Shocked, she looked at him a bit incredulously.
"In case you haven't noticed, we're in an open car!" she said.
A little angry, she complied.
Reaching in, she cupped the soft plump flesh of her left breast and managed to pull it up and out. Then the right. She blushed furiously as the air hit her sensitive exposed nipples which hardened immediately. Like small dark pink fingers, they pushed out from her chest impudently. The jostle of the car caused her breasts to bounce slightly. The feel of the exposed breasts in the open air was both disconcerting and exciting. Reaching over, he gently cupped a breast, his other hand firmly on the wheel. Squeezing, he made her gasp, her breast swelling.
A discordant blast suddenly tore through the air, making her jump violently. To her right, a huge transport truck suddenly pulled up beside the car. From high atop the cab, a bearded face grinned down at her. Mountain Man, she thought inconsequentially, that's what he looked like.
Squealing, she tried to cover her exposed tits – but Dáire slapped her hand away. Pushing her back against the seat, he caused her breasts to push out even more obviously. Again, the horn split the air as the trucker drank in the sight of two lovely soft tits open to his view, which together with the long, beautiful legs were enough to make a dead man stiff.
Horrified, yet aroused, she stared up. One eye on the road, one drinking in the sight of her exposed self, the trucker was on his CB.
"He can see my boobs!" she said.
"I know, I want him looking at them – I want him to see your gorgeous tits and want to suck them and squeeze them," he answered calmly.
"Now, pull up your skirt further – I want him to see your cunt too."
Matching action to words, he tugged insistently at the skirt.
Embarrassed but obedient, Sian lifted her ass lightly, allowing her to tug the tight skirt up past her hips. The cheeks of her ass were now on the soft leather of the seat but she had her legs pressed closely together. A roar on the other side caught her attention, snapping her head up.
Yet another transport pulled up, hanging from the passenger window, a boy had the window cranked open and was peering down into the convertible.
She pressed her eyes tight together, feeling a mixture of helplessness and resentment, ignoring the frisson of sexual excitement that was causing her to dampen the seat.
"Spread your legs and pull your knees up," Dáire said quietly.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, still somewhat defiant.
"NOW," he raised his voice.
Frowning, she suddenly thought to hell with it, glaring at him, she snapped her knees apart and up, grasping them and pulling them apart and up towards her face. A blast of the air horn from the truck beside her rent the air as the truck swerved, then righted itself.
Her entire slit lay open, nether lips gaping slightly, the air cooling her heated inner core, drying the sweet nectar which despite her outrage, bedewed her thighs.
She rested her head against the headrest behind her head, closing her eyes, removing herself from her present reality.
Taking deep yogic breaths, she calmed, focused, looked inward and explored her tumultuous thoughts. The outside world receded from her consciousness, the rumble of the trucks now flanking their small automobile, the hiss of the wind and the feel of the cool air on her exposed sex floating away.
Instead, she saw in her mind's eye her sprawled, open legs, her slit from clit to anus exposed and open, her soft breasts, now flattened slightly against her chest.
She saw the truckers and imagined them within the cabs of their megalith vehicles, pricks stiff and most likely exposed, calloused hands rubbing thick shafts. She envisioned with clarity and perception the clear sweet fluid trickling form the tips of their cocks.
Mountain Man and Billy the Kid, she giggled to herself.
A flush enveloped her, a wave of heat which swept from her mind down the length of her long body, stiffening the pink nipples, making her breasts swell and then down into her groin, where almost immediately, the outer lips of her cunt begin to plump and swell, her clit distended and peeking between the tight furl of inner lips.
She breathed deeply, fully, expanding her rib cage, feeling the goddess rise within her chest and extend outward.
No longer victim, but sweet submissive, powerful in her submissiveness.
She snapped open her eyes and pulled her knees tightly to her chest. One hand went down and delicately probed and flicked between her legs. She turned her face deliberately and provocatively towards Dáire.
He was watching, his hands steady on the steering wheel. She reached and gently cupped the bulge which tents out the front of his pants. She closed her eyes and rubbed the length of his stiff, engorgement, feeling as if in Braille, the width of his erection.
"Pull it out," she hears.
Looking up she meets the lustful gaze of the truck's passenger.
Returning her attention to Dáire, she unzipped, then reached in and managed, with some difficulty to pull Dáire’s stiff prick from its tight prison.
The truck on her left suddenly accelerated and pulls away. Before she could monitor this new development, yet another truck pulled up beside her. The face peering down is dark, weathered and rough, clean shaven but full of crags and crannies of experience and disappointment. The eyes peered down, jaded and experienced.
Ignoring him, she bent to her task. Turning in her seat, fighting the seat belt and finally loosening then removing the strap across her chest but retaining the hip belt, she bent, ensuring that her pale, firm ass was fully visible, the sweet crack pulled slightly apart so the rosy beauty of her anus and the flushed pink of her cunt are just visible.
Then opening her lips, she engulfed Dáire in one swift, firm swallow. She felt him jump slightly, then relax; his hand came off the wheel and pushes her head down firmly, pushing the stiff jut of his erection further down her throat. Gagging reflexively, she forced herself to relax until her throat softened and accepted the thick, moist treat being offered.
His cock tasted tart and slightly astringent, a pongy sharp taste that filled her nose and engulfed her senses.
Unconsciously she groaned, then pulled her soft mouth up and then down, her tongue sweeping up the sensitive underside of his prick, its stiff tip delicately probing the uncircumcised head, licking around the fold of skin and flicking the frothy clear fluid starting to well out of the slit down her throat.
She felt his hand on her head tighten and then clasp her hair, hard, pulling her head up out of his groin. Fighting, she struggled to retain his prick in the prison of her mouth, but he pulled harder, and with a pop, she was forced to release his cock.
The truck beside her accelerated and pulled ahead while the one behind and to the left dropped slightly to the back. A flashing light reflected off the rearview mirror.
She scrambled back into her seat, frantically trying to straighten her shirt and pull down her skirt. Dáire prevents her.
"There's a cop!" she yelled.
"Leave it, I want your cunt exposed," he said.
She wanted to disobey but can't. Trembling slightly, she concurred and left the skirt up, exposing the shaved slit and tight lips of her sex. Her ass is flattened slightly against the soft leather of the seat, and a musky, intense and clean odour is evident and distracting even in the open air convertible. She realizes her juices have slicked the seat, coating its soft exterior in dampness.
Dáire pulls to the side of the road and awaits the cop who has now parked behind.
There is a pause of a few minutes as the cop runs their license plate. Her heart beats frantically within her breast. Looking over, she sees that Dáire has managed to push his stiff prick back into his pants, although the bulge continues to advertise his arousal.
He caresses her cheek, then gently reaching down, pulls her top up, so one breast, its tip stiff and engorged, is visible.
The cop, an RCMP officer in the brown sacking cloth of their highway uniform strides to Dáire’s door. He is tall and extremely well muscled, the jodhpur legs of his pants tight around the waist and crotch, clearly outlining his long, thick penis, pulled slightly to the left. His height combined with the size of their car means her eyes directly meet the line of his sex.
Looking up, she sees his eyes are glued on her cunt and embarrassed, she drops her gaze only to close her eyes as she sees her own slit so open to his gaze.
He speaks sternly to Dáire, who answers softly. There is a soft whispered conversation then Dáire gets out of the car. Together, the cop and Dáire walk away, conversing intently.
Several minutes later Dáire returns. She twists and watches the cop walk back to his cruiser.
"Did we get a ticket? she asks. "What is going on?"
Dáire smiles and says not to worry.
Buckling up, he pulls out after carefully looking.
Ahead, Sian sees several of the trucks that had been ogling her ahead of her – they had simply slowed down and pulled over. The cop car pulls parallel, then passes. Dáire follows.
"Where are we going?"
He reassures her, tells her again that he has taken care of things.
They came to a road splitting off from the highway; there, the cop car signals and following suit, Dáire veers right. The road is long and two lanes, meandering through fields first, then an increasing number of trees. Several miles down, the trees thicken and the road narrows.
The sun is low on the horizon and the soft, muted light of dusk is colouring the world quiet. Ahead, the taillights of the cop car blink and flicker and mesmerized, Sian finds herself relaxing. She breathes the clean air gratefully, stretching, her breasts jiggling as she yawns.
Then behind her, she first senses rather then consciously hears, the rumble of big trucks. Turning, she sees headlights about a mile behind her of not one but several vehicles.
"The trucks are coming this way too," she says puzzled.
"I know," Dáire answers, "the officer was on the CB to them."
The taillights ahead flicker, then flash on and the right signal light starts blinking. The thick copse of trees seems impenetrable until suddenly an opening appears, flanked by white gates.
The cruiser is idling, its red light quiet as the cop moves the gates.
Following, Dáire turned the car into a picnic area. Tables dotted the verdant landscape, screened by large willows and stately maples. A tangle of wildflowers and marsh grass tumbled to the shore of a small, placid lake. The cruiser pulled to a stop beside a towering oak tree, its large gnarled limbs leaning out and over the table beneath. Dáire parked beside him and turned off the engine.
The rumbling in the distance increased and, one by one, the three large trucks rumbled into the clearing, barely clearing the narrow gateway. Silence returned as the great engines rumbled to a stop, leaving an echo in the placid dusky air of the park.
Sian feels trepidation as for a moment, all is quiet. The cop stood straight beside his cruiser. The blank tinted windshields of the trucks masked the interiors. Then a door opened and her Mountain Man stepped to the ground. He is around 50, grizzled, with strong, calloused hands. The sleeves of his t-shirt are rolled up, showing muscled tattooed arms. A firm beer belly filled out its white front.
A door slammed and two figures descended from the second truck, Billy the Kid and Dad she surmised, noting the resemblance between the two. The father had thinning blond hair, wispy and fine, combed back straight from his forehead. His son, around 19, is muscled and fit, only a hint of softness around the chin and slightly soft belly. His hair was thick and long, falling to his shoulders in pale waves.
She recognized the boy who told her to pull out Dáire’s cock and blushes.
The third driver descended from his cab. A black man, he is thickly muscled with a shaved head and strong stocky legs. She met the world-weary eyes, lit now with a frisson of lust.
Silently, they come towards the group in the middle. Standing straight, without raising his voice but somehow exuding confidence and control, Dáire tells them the rules.
The cop has agreed not to charge them on the following terms – everyone gets to watch her being fucked – but only by Dáire – however, Dáire has agreed that the cop will get his cock sucked at the same time.
The others – well they had their look on the highway – should they choose to stay, they are welcome to watch and Dáire has no objection if they beat off anywhere on Sian's body - they just aren't allowed to touch unless he indicates they are to do so. Although somewhat disappointed, they agree.
Dáire turns to her. She has stood, silently through this, not quite sure how she felt. The sun hangs low on the horizon, a fiery muted ball of scarlet, staining the lake with rivulets of fire, muting the deep green and rich verdant richness of the trees whose leaves move in the warm, soft breeze of the evening. The men about her are silent, all eyes avidly trained on her.
She doesn't feel threatened or frightened; Dáire is there and her trust in him to care for her and allow no harm to come to her is absolute. In fact, she feels deep within her, a frisson of sexual awakening – a sense of power that hums along her nerve endings, wells up inside her chest, swelling her breasts, lighting her eyes.
Reaching up, she fumbles at the pins which she has twined in her hair. With a sigh, the great waves tumble down, tendrils of fire and amber silk, to her hips.
Dáire takes her hand and delicately she steps up onto the table beside her. Although quiescent, a sense of energy boils out from her that causes the men watching to react. A collective sigh breathes out, erotic and anticipatory.
Gently, Dáire indicates to her to remove her top. She complies; pulling the tank top from the bottom and peeling it over her head. Her bra follows and she carelessly flings it off, long pretty arms reaching for the sky, small breasts jouncing slightly, their rosy tips elongated and stiff. The evening light lends an almost luminescent glow to her pale skin, lighting it from within, touching a tendril of rosy hue on one shoulder, lending shadows and softness to her belly and the soft underside of her breasts.
With a touch, he has her pirouette – allowing each member of her audience to admire not just her breasts but the sweet line of her back, the straight shoulders and thick ropes of burnished hair. Then he reaches, and unbuttons the skirt, tugging it down and holding her hand as she carefully steps out of it.
Dáire’s hand on her back pushes gently – understanding, she reaches high in the air, then sweeps down, bending forward and clasping her ankles as she performs the latter part of the yogic Circle of the Sun.
She can see between her slightly straddled legs the faces of two of the truckers – twisted and lustful, the blond has his penis out and is rubbing it, his eyes glued to her spread cheeks. His penis is long and slender, its tip circumcised and already oozing a clear liquid. Beside him, his son is rubbing the bulging front of his pants, his face flushed and perspiring. He unzips and his prick springs out – it is as long as his dad's, but far thicker, with coarse blond hair and possessing the stiffness and resilience of youth, springing almost straight up to his belly, the tip touching and wetting the bottom of his tee-shirt.
His hand grasps the shaft of his cock, rubbing it up and down frantically.
Dáire motions her to stand upright and she does so. Guiding her, he has her step down, then taking her slender waist between his hands, lifts her up onto the table. She lays back, her legs dangling, her breasts flattening against her chest. Turning her face, she meets the gaze of the cop who is now standing beside her. The khaki of his pants is straining against the erection beneath, the knife-edge crease askew.
Dáire motions to Mountain Man and the black trucker, who eagerly stumble to the table. He pushes her knees up and out and has the grizzled old timer hold the left, the black trucker the right. Now her cunt is open to all – the outer lips stretched, her clit peeking out, stiff and aroused. The scrap of material which runs the length of her slit is already wet and the musky odour of her arousal scents the air.
The sound of zip returns her attention to the cop. Conscious of her gaze, he deliberately and slowly reaches inside and pulls out a thick pale cock, its tip uncircumcised, the spongy head already exposed, the skin pulled back and straining from the tip. He runs his hand slowly and deliberately along its impressive length, his fingers barely managing to encompass its thickness.
Dáire touches her, making her hips undulate. She feels possessed, swelling with a sexual fever, exacerbated and enhanced by the excitement emanating around her. She can hear the slightly wet sound of hands rubbing stiff, moist cocks while the heated breath of strangers fills the air, surrounding her in a haze of sexual tension that makes her cunt swell around the thin line of thong.
She feels a trickle of arousal squeeze from the tight red folds of her cunt, running a glistening trail down the split of her buttocks.
She looks down between her spread legs and see Daire’s beloved cock clasped firmly in his hands. He moves forward and she feels the spongy tip gently probing the entrance to her womb. Around her there is a collective holding of breath as five pairs of avid eyes devour the sight of a stiff cock sinking into a moist, warm cunt.
As Dáire sinks his prick up into her belly she hears a collective groan. He holds his hips back so there is a clear view– and with that characteristic flick of his hips he pulls out his cock, glistening and coated now with her juices. Slowly, he begins pumping into her, pulling back at intervals to allow an unimpeded view of his stiff cock pushing into the swelling folds of her cunt.
She feels a damp insistent push at her cheek, turning she takes a breath of aroused cock as the cop looks for her to fulfill the bargain. Straining, she widens her small mouth as much as possible, her tongue flicking out and laving the tip of the large cock. He groans, his hand holding his prick steady. Then guiding it, he pushes it towards her mouth, pausing for a moment to allow her lips to accommodate its impressive girth.
Gagging reflexively, she forces herself to relax until her throat softens and accepts the thick, moist treat being offered. His cock tastes tart and slightly astringent, a sharp taste that fills her nose and engulfs her senses. Unconsciously she groans then pulls her soft mouth up and then down, her tongue sweeping up the sensitive underside of his prick, its stiff tip delicately probing the uncircumcised head, licking around the fold of skin and flicking the frothy clear fluid down her throat.
The cop carefully pumps his cock into the warm cavern of her mouth, watching as first one inch, then two then four inches of his stiff prick sinks between the soft lips.
She gasps, Dáire has shoved his stiff prick hard up her belly, bumping her cervix and causing her to jump.
She hears a groan and suddenly something soft and warm splatters onto her shivering, jouncing breasts. She looks up and sees Billy the Kid's frantic eyes, his face clenched painfully, his hand rapidly pumping his scarlet, straining cock. Thick jets of cum arch out, trailing glittering trails down her heaving breasts.
The cop's eyes darken as he frantically tries to watch his prick appearing and reappearing between her sweet pursed lips and the boy emptying his straining, spasming prick all over the girl's plump breasts.
She feels a hot spray across her cheek. She gasps as Dáire’s prick picks up the rhythm of the hot swelling prick in her mouth. He begins to pump faster, making her hips slam against the rough wood of the picnic table beneath.
Sian is flushed, breathing hard around the hot prick. Her cunt feels strained and full. Her excitement is piqued further by the feel of the truckers' hands on her legs. She can hear them rhythmically pumping their cocks – at intervals the hot wet tip of one or the other pushes against her thigh.
She feels Dáire’s hands beneath her and the truckers release her legs. He grasps the firm ass cheeks and pulls her towards him, slamming his groin into her cunt.
Suddenly she feels the cop's cock swell further and gags reflexively as his prick seems to expand, almost choking her and causing an ache in her stretched, full lips.
She reaches up between the cop's legs, caressing the perineum, pressing on the prostrate where the base of the penis rests. He yells.
She runs her fingers up, flicking the tight testicles which are contracting further up into his groin.
Frantically he pumps his hips and shoves the big stiff prick farther down her throat.
With a groan she feels the tip spurting. Dáire is breathing hard now.
"Is he coming?" he demands.
"Is he spurting down your throat?"
"Are you swallowing all of that hot cum?"
She nods as best she can then closing her eyes, concentrates as her mouth fills and then, despite her frantic efforts to force all of it down her throat, overflows with powerful jets of hot slippery sperm.
Dáire watches as Sian’s cheeks balloon out and then groans as he sees ropes of thick cum spurt from between the spasming cock and her lips.
The black trucker on his right has a thick stubby cock with a purple head, decked now with transparent whitish fluid. His hand is frantically stroking himself, his eyes darting between the sight of the girl's mouth filling with frothy white cop cum and that of watching a stiff cock sink up into her belly.
Sian feels a pull deep within her womb. Her breasts begin to ache and she begins to moan around her delicious mouthful. She feels Dáire’s beautiful cock ramming into her, his hands grasping and almost cruelly pinching the firm cheeks of her ass.
The boy's warm cum is still trickling off her breasts when the Mountain Man yells.
She feels a spray of hot fluid inundate her cunt as Dáire’s frantically pumping cock begins to pump its sweet load into her hot depths.
As the black trucker watches a pumping cock spray cum into girl's pursed mouth, dribbling and spurting from her small lips and then watches as the man between her legs shoves frantically into the tight red cunt, he loses control. Helplessly, he pushes close and actually pushes his cock down against Dáire’s, rubbing the spasming tip against the other man's glistening shaft.
A powerful hot jet of cum spurts from his dark penis, and feeling this, Sian groans around mouthful of cock. Dáire can barely hold onto her as deep within her an intense almost painful pulling begins.
Inside her mouth, the prick begins to soften and shrink. Frantic, she sucks it easily now.
Regretfully, the cop pulls out his limp, glistening member. She makes an inarticulate cry of disappointment. "Dad" pushes forward as he sees the cop's cock pull out of the sweet lips. Sperm literally drips out of her mouth, trickling down her cheeks and neck.
He looks at Dáire who, eyes slit, is pumping hard into the swollen red cunt, one finger now teasing the furled tight hole of her anus. With a grunt, Dáire pushes his finger firmly but gently into the tight, slick ass. Glancing up, he tersely nods.
She screams as she feels Dáire's finger probing her ass. He thrusts his finger against the thin membrane of her cunt and massages his own cock. The tugging inside her spills over into an orgasm. As she opens her mouth, she feels yet another stiff prick pushing in between her sperm-coated lips.
Opening wider, her hips undulating and spasming as her orgasm hits her, she sucks frantically at the new prick now pushing its spongy head between her lips. As the trucker feels her tongue flicking and sucking his prick, he lasts only a second, then eyes glued to Dáire’s prick appearing and disappearing into the luscious cunt open to his gaze, his prick begins jerking.
Matching the waves which now engulf her deep within, jerking her hips up against Dáire’s, the feel of his finger in her ass, the hard stiff mass of his prick in her cunt and then incredibly, she feels him coming deep within her and yet another wave of even more powerful contractions assault her.
Her cervix contracts and expands; her womb feels as if it were being expelled and within her mouth, the hot sweet jets of cum are forced down her throat.
Her mind literally shuts off as her body takes over and spasms almost uncontrollably. Almost without her noticing it, the trucker wrings the last teaspoon of hot come from his prick and pulls the rapidly softening member from her mouth.
Dáire closes his eyes tightly as his prick empties into her luscious cunt, loving the feel of her orgasm clenching his finger, now buried deeply within her ass.
Around them, the truckers and the cop adjust their clothing, tucking in tired pricks, zipping and fixing shirts. The rumble of megalith trucks intrudes for a moment and then, as the sounds recede, Dáire and Sian relax.
A moment or an hour later, she comes back to herself, conscious of sweat and sticky sperm now drying in the soft evening breeze. It is almost dark.
Dáire straightens, pushing himself up and allowing his cock to pull completely from her sweet cunt.
Leaning, he captures her lips in a passionate kiss, running a possessive hand between her legs and gently fingering the well used slit.
She jumps a little, conscious of a little soreness but then she giggles.
He helps her to her feet, and on trembling legs she follows him to the shore of the placid lake, where, leaning down, he wets his tee shirt. Gently, he kneels and begins to wipe away the starchy remnants of passion from her body. He helps her strip off the stockings which are saturated and sticky with cum. Then he cleans around her ass and cunt and along her sweet stomach. Standing he wrings out the tee shirt then wets it again, cleaning her breasts and neck. Before wiping her face, he again claims her lips, this time running his tongue around the inside of her lips and along her teeth, licking up the remnants of sperm. Then with the cloth, he wipes her face, the coolness pleasant against her flushed and heated skin.
Hand in hand they walk to the car where the truckers or the cop has left their clothes piled on the seat. She slips on the skirt and pulls the shirt down and getting in, buckles up. Dáire reaches over as he gets in and runs a loving hand over her face, pushing fingers gently in her mouth. Then gently pushing her head against the seat back, he allows her to rest as he heads north.