Page 54 of A Good Prospect

“Knut was so appalled when he saw you coming upstairs,” Ophir said conversationally, “that he told me he’s donating his downstairs bedroom to Polly and Jupiter. He’ll make his new rooms down in the office building.”

Sal held Tamasin’s bare back to his hot chest. “You just had to name your son ‘Jupiter.’ Cupid.”

Tamasin craned her neck to see the teasing twinkle in Sal’s eyes. They adored annoying Ophir about the name Cupid. Now Ophir ran his palms between them, caressing Sal’s abdomen and the small of Tamasin’s back simultaneously. He laid a sloppy, voracious kiss to the side of Sal’s neck, causing Sal’s eyes to close and his head tilt sensuously. Ophir clamped his upper thighs around Sal’s nearly-naked one, causing a violent shiver to sprinkle Tamasin’s shoulders and arms with gooseflesh. It was always so stimulating to view Ophir’s potent phallus rubbing up against Sal, so unashamed in his lust for his partner.

Now Ophir undid the laces of his own deerskin leggings, releasing the insistent bulge of his massive cock. “You’re not really one to talk,” he muttered against Sal’s ear. “Salvador Amado Valentín Palomares.”

Tamasin would have laughed, had she not been crying out for her husband’s penis. She squirmed her butt to indicate her readiness, even leaning forward with her fingertips balancing herself on the mattress, to give Sal a good view of her bare back and behind. She knew that never failed to rouse a man into an out-and-out blockheaded furor, for some reason.

“Go ahead,” she heard Ophir growl against Sal’s throat. “Take your wife. I want to watch. I want to see you satisfy yourself inside her sweet cunt. I want to watch you hump the woman you love and spill your delicious seed inside her.”

Still petting the outer lips of her labia, Sal wedged the pulsing crown of his penis against the opening of her channel. Ophir continued to bedevil Sal, murmuring things such as, “Do it, Sal. Release yourself inside of her, feel the hot slippery walls of her cunt around your delicious cock.”

His banter was having an effect on Tamasin as well, driving her nearly over the edge into a loco passion. When she lunged her hips backward toward Sal, she instantly impaled herself on his proud phallus. Sal gasped loudly, and Tamasin cried out as well, since it had been quite awhile since she had accommodated anything that size—well, if ever.

But it only took a few brief moments, between Ophir’s salacious urging and the sweet slow pumping of Sal’s penis. Tamasin relaxed into the fucking as Sal filled her, his balls slapping against her ass, her breasts swaying. He continued fingering her, tickling her clitoris with his talented finger. Great electrical sparks shot from her core, causing her to twitch and jump.

“Salvador, mi amor,” she cried. Her heart felt as though it was being wrenched with the power of her love for him. A year ago, she would not have dreamed this was possible. A year ago, she did not even know what to dream.

And for the first time in her life, she craved a man to fill her. Now that she had seen how good, how sweet, how tender it was to be genuinely fucked by a man one loved…Well. She would never refrain from doing it again.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Sal’s gorgeous, aristocratic face. With his head thrown back onto Ophir’s shoulder, she was enticed by the full muscular throat, the peppering of satiny hair across his brawny pectorals. His eyelids flickered half-open and his nostrils flared in that bewitching manner that let Tamasin know he was affected by something. Ophir, from where he stood behind Sal rubbing his penis against Sal’s haunch, reached for the bowl on the nightstand and dipped his fingers into it. His other palm grabbed a handful of Sal’s ass, slapping up against it with a sharp crack.

Tamasin panted, “Mi amor, la mejor y la única de mi vida.” My love, the best and only love of my life. She didn’t know what she was saying, she was so crazed by lust. It was not until several days later, in San Francisco, that Tamasin realized she knew that much Spanish.

* * * *

That Ophir stood behind him, urgently rotating the head of his massive cock against Sal’s ass, only increased his rapture. To finally glide his cock up her slick, hot passage was enough to bring him off instantly, and to watch her ass rotate and wiggle with pleasure was a treat he’d never experienced.

He was afraid of hurting her at first, thinking perhaps she’d been assaulted in the past. It was an arrogant thought that his penis was overly large, but Sal tried to move slower. It was as though her sex had sucked him in, like the mouth of one of those meat-eating flowers! The sucking and clenching of it compelled him on, the walls of her inner twat gripping and munching at his prick as though it had some masterly, adept life of its own.

When Ophir unclothed his own prick and rubbed the hot crown of it against Sal’s ass, his balls drew up close to his body. He had to still himself while Tamasin whimpered for more. Ophir dipped his fingers into a bowl of what was apparently manteca, and Sal could tell by the rigorous motions of Ophir’s bicep that he was slathering it onto his prick. Ophir’s bawdy murmurings only served to heighten Sal’s impending orgasm.

“That’s good, Sal, real good. Keep it up, keep pounding your wife. Isn’t she beautiful all spread out like that? Doesn’t it make your long…thick…juicy cock just want to erupt inside of her?”

“Oh, ay dios, sí, Ophir…” Sal muttered nonsensically. Yes to what? To the achingly exquisite sight of Tamasin with spread legs leaning forward on the bed, or to what Ophir was planning to do with the manteca?

When Ophir’s greasy fingers probed his asshole, smearing the unctuous butter up to his first knuckle inside of him, Sal had to slow his pumping until he was nearly stopped. This made Tamasin mewl with need, so Sal picked her up by the hips and launched her on all fours onto the bed, where he remained crouched over and into her.

“Ah!” she cried, and seemed to like this subservient position where her hungry quim could feel every nuance and slight motion of his penis. When he flexed his cock inside of her, she gasped and jumped, and he knew he could control her orgasm by the movements of his fingers against her clitoris.

Ophir positioned the giant head of his prick against Sal’s asshole, and Sal’s thighs quivered with anticipation and a bit of fear. He’d never been speared before, much less with an enormous appendage like Ophir’s, but he relaxed into the warm grip of Ophir’s steadying hand on his hip, and Ophir’s licentious words helped calm his trepidation at being invaded like that.

“I’m going to fuck you, Sal, my love, my love.” The bulging crown of Ophir’s prick breached the tight ring of his ass, sending a flood of jism up the underside of Sal’s penis. “Feel yourself inside of Tamasin. Feel her cunt squeezing your fat cock.” Ophir gave a swift little jab with his prick and he was halfway buried inside Sal. “You’re inside your wife, the woman you love. And the man who loves you is buggering your firm ass. Good God, Sal.” He slapped Sal’s ass with such a loud snap the guests downstairs might have heard it, had Knut not commenced to caterwauling on Ophir’s fiddle. “That’s right, my big bull of a man. Feel my cock filling you. I’m gonna fill you with loads of my hot jism.” Another slap. “You like this? Tell me you like it. Tell me you like being bumfucked by my giant horse cock.”

Sal was so choked up, trying to hold in roars of intense excitement, he could only answer Ophir in monosyllables. “Sí,” he squeaked. “Fuck me, Ophir. Fuck me. With your. Giant prick.”

When Ophir commenced to driving nearly the entire length of his prick in and out of Sal’s asshole, Sal couldn’t hold back. The view of Tamasin’s pure white shoulder blades, so delicate like a bird’s, was enough to send him over the edge. He remembered to pet her clitoris, knowing by the slick bulging that she would soon be squirting all over his hand. He loved that, particularly when she gushed against his mouth, and he tasted and supped her juice.

“Good God, Sal.” Ophir bit the tender flesh at the side of his neck as he pumped into him. “You are one. Big. Delicious morsel of ass.”

That was it. Before Sal even had a chance to inhale a good lungful of air, he erupted inside Tamasin. Load after load spurted up the length of his penis, assisted by the lewd hammering he was taking from Ophir’s powerful hips. Holding his breath, he had the presence of mind to continue fondling Tamasin’s button. She, too, held her breath, as she always did when the first convulsions of orgasm flooded her blood, and then he felt her crash around him. The walls of her inner cunt rolled down the entire length of his stiff prick like the swells of a tidal wave, one after another.

“Oh—oh—oh—oh—” was all Tamasin would utter for many long moments, even when Sal slowed his stroking.

“Good God, Sal.” Ophir’s teeth were clamped down on Sal’s earlobe so tightly, he was afraid his partner might bite it clean off. Ophir slapped his haunch again, so hard the tingling washed through his balls and clean through to the end of his prick, squeezing out a few more dribbles of sperm. “You—are—the most delicious—Ah!”

Sal could actually feel Ophir’s cock exploding, great globs of jism squirting against that sensitive spot behind his balls. It seemed to roil through every muscle of Sal’s pelvis, up the underside of his flagging prick, and into the depths of Tamasin’s womb. She was now arching her neck to see over her shoulder, and the sly smile on her face told him she liked what she saw. Ophir’s body still as a sculpture of hard quartz as he discharged inside of his partner, eyes squeezed shut, fingers digging into the globe of Sal’s ass.