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Eight Legs For Three Ladies 12
🕑 Added 2022-10-28 21:59:01 +0000 UTCGwen worked the soap to a lather between her hands. “I’ve been washing myself all my life. I can do it just fine,” she said tartly.
“I can guarantee you I’ll pay more attention to detail,” Peter promised.
With the soap in her hand, she began sudsing Peter’s manhood. She worked the bar of soap around in a circle, seemingly trying to touch his hardened manhood as little as she could—yet her foamy fingers always seemed to manage to make contact with it.
While she washed his cock and balls, Peter stroked her naked body, his hands traveling along her bare svelteness as warmly as the water coursing over her creamy skin. “Get it hard, Gwen,” he told her, his voice rough, as unlike his normal tones as it was when he wore his mask. “Nice and hard.”
The spray of water was a soft thunder along Gwen’s supple back. She slid her soapy hand up and down Peter’s length. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before his cock went from feeling like a limp, but substantial, blackjack to stiffening in her slender fingers. The cockhead swelled, turned a boiling red, and his shaft stood up with the hardness of a billy club.
Her other hand cupped his engorged balls; Gwen’s excitement skyrocketed to a fever pitch as she felt inside them the thick cum that his powerful erection was designed to inundate her with. She couldn’t think about such a massive prick without romanticizing, almost fetishizing, every last little facet of its existence.
To think: one day it would breed her. The same maleness that had taken her virginity would make her a mother as well. She’d go from girl to woman to mom, all with the same incredible man… thanks to the same incredible cock…
“That’s as clean as it needs to be when it’s just going to get dirty again,” Peter said now, his cock as stiff and big as it would ever be. It throbbed so much there was a fine hurt, but that was alright. He knew it would be soothed soon enough.
Gwen stepped out of the water; the spray rained down on Peter instead, rinsing off the soap suds until his erection emerged from the froth like sunlight melting away a fogbank and letting out a mountain.
Gwen gasped at it. She knew how big it was, but seeing it now, she had a twinge of remembering how it felt inside her. The shock of it entering her was much like the surprise of looking at it in the fullness of its power.
Peter chuckled—after how experienced Mary Jane and Felicia were, he couldn’t help but find it charming, even a little beguiling, how Gwen made it clear that she was in no way used to his size. “Get down on your knees,” he told her. “It’s time to really clean it off.”
Gwen stammered, not really considering the idea, so shocked that the only thing that came out of her mouth was automatic protest. “I-I-I’ve never sucked a guy’s… a guy before. Can it even go into my mouth without choking me? And what about when you… go off? It’ll all go into—I’ll have to swallow all of it?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Peter assured her. “Just like I figured out what to do with your tasty little—“
“Peter!” Gwen interrupted shrilly. In the hinterland between sex and love, her natural discomfort with risqué talk took over. Now that she’d forged a connection with Peter, where they could finally just touch and be physical with each other, obscene words seemed doubly obscene—crude and unnecessary.
She blushed. It had felt good when he’d used his mouth on her—even if Mary Jane had been there too, enjoying other parts of him. MJ, no doubt, would be fine with mouthing his cock… kissing every last part of him. Gwen hadn’t come this far just to fall short of Mary Jane’s sexuality. As long as it was with Peter, she would do anything the redhead was capable of and more!
Still, Gwen moved slowly. Not so much out of hesitance, but because she wanted to savor every little moment, every last detail, every fleeting thought that shot through her mind as she embarked on this action for the first time.
Her eyes fixed on Peter’s twitching cock as if seeking to memorize it. The thick column of it shone purple with throbbing veins, like it was trying to sear itself into the memory she was making. With the shower raining down on her, pasting her flaxen hair along her spine, she reached out to take that hard erection in her hand.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” Peter cooed to her. “I think it won’t be long until you dig how much of it there is to taste…”
“I already do,” Gwen said, though with a tremor in her voice. She looked up at him beseechingly, all big kittenish eyes. “Promise me you won’t come in my mouth? I don’t want my first taste of it to be—to be too much.”
“I won’t, I won’t!” Peter said exasperatedly. “I’ll hold off as long as I can. You can finish me with your hand.”
Gwen shut her big blue eyes. She’d seen enough of Peter’s endowment. Now she had to feel it. She wanted to remember that as much as she would remember the sight of his giant phallus. Leaning forward, she kissed the tip of Peter’s cock. It jerked with the contact of her moist lips. She realized she was holding his length tighter inside her small hand.
“Feels nice,” Peter breathed. “Now really suck it, really show me you want it in your mouth!”
Gwen reluctantly took his upthrust erection between her lips, pink lips opening wide to get around the swollen knob. Her grip was tight around his girth, yet Peter didn’t show any pain. If there was any, he put up with it sportingly as she worked her lips down the length of his manhood. And Gwen faithfully kept taking his shaft until it touched the back of her throat.
A note of panic entered Gwen’s thinking. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. She knew how big this member was; what was it doing in her mouth?
She distracted herself, forced her own mind to push past the nervousness. Instead, she sucked on what was in her mouth, her lips pulling noisily at Peter’s massive endowment. There was so much of it to suck—maybe that was why it tasted so vivid in her mouth, like nothing she’d ever eaten before.
“That’s it!” Peter groaned, quivering like he was made of paper and the pelting of the shower spray was batting him around. “Use your tongue, Gwen! Use all of that sweet mouth…”
Gwen felt more eagerness than she would ever admit to. The taste of Peter’s precum hit her tongue like alcohol back when she’d been underage: too-strong and dizzying and taboo and beautifully illicit. She knew it was disgusting, but she anticipated the next taste—she sucked for it.
Then she backed away, retreating down the length of Peter’s manhood until the knob was in her mouth instead of in her throat. Gwen lapped at it with her tongue, darting her taste buds all over his glans with those delicious tastes just waiting for her, then sucking. Sucking his cock made it taste even better. Even when there was no precum to taste—none but that which she’d already smeared over her tongue—the feel of his prick in her mouth was such a thrill!
She was still afraid of getting a mouthful of semen…. wasn’t she? Yes, but Gwen was curious too. She wanted to know if his hot cum would be like more of what she was already tasting or if it would be something else altogether. What she’d already sampled of sex seemed that way: tricky, surprising. Twisting her expectations.
The orgasms she’d had with her own hand were like what Peter did to her. They were also so much more. Gwen found herself hurrying Peter along, wanting that gushing climax. Or wanting what Peter wanted, wanting to please him. Was there a difference at this point? She only knew it was damn satisfying to hear how Peter wanted her. Men always wanted Mary Jane, she practically floated on their admiration, but who cared about that when Peter wanted her!
“Christ, how am I not supposed to come in your mouth when you’re sucking me like this?” Peter gasped, thrusting a hand against the tiled wall to stay upright. “You’re taking me right into your throat!”
“Don’t you dare shoot in my mouth!” Gwen said, taking a break to gasp in air and work his shaft with both hands, his cockhead inches from her lips, her hands circling and rubbing at his length despite what she said. “I mean it! Don’t come just because I’m sucking you!”
Gwen moved one hand to his muscular leg, the other to his balls, squeezing them gently as she bobbed her pretty blonde head up and down on his cock. Peter gritted his teeth to hold in his groans. His prick was going in and out of her mouth as quickly as she could get her throat around it; every time it went into the warm tightness of her gullet, another sound threatened to force its way out of him. If he let his mouth open, he would give away that she was playing his organ like a symphony.
Gwen sucked deliriously, needfully—without even being aware of her, her tongue was licking delightedly at the fervent taste contained in Peter’s throbbing cock. With her hand, she went after the length of his manhood that her mouth couldn’t get to. Her fingers stroked up and down as fast as she could make them, squeezing and drawing on his shaft just as her mouth was.
“Can’t hold back much longer!” Peter groaned, his legs quaking as Gwen throated his rigid prick all over again. No matter how many times she gagged, she just kept swallowing it down, like she couldn’t live without having his cock in her gullet. “My balls are tightening up! Unhhh! I’m really close, Gwen! I’m about to do it! Nghh!”
Her lips slurping loudly off his bellend, Gwen managed to pant: “Not in my mouth! I really mean it, Peter!”
She lavished her wet tongue all over his hardness as she embraced it with her mouth—barely taking it down her throat before jerking her head up and down like she was masturbating him with her lips more than sucking him off.
