The Murdered World 45

Emma could see how he was enjoying it, the muscles in his naked body twitching like neon signs lighting up, showing her the pleasure that flickered through his athletic frame. She found her breath hitching every time Christina plunged down on that mammoth impaler, her own throat constricting—impossible not to imagine what it was like to have all that hardness in it, where Christina was taking it, deep down in her neck, almost in her chest…

Shit, this should not be Christina, Emma was younger, she was hotter, and she had to give better head than her prude sister.

But it was. Emma could see it; she couldn’t stop looking at it. Christina’s saliva caught the light brightly, flashing every time the bulb blinked off and back on. Emma leaned a little out the door to see past Frank’s body to the big erection protruding out of him—jutting out to meet Christina’s bobbing head.

Now that she could see everything, her splayed lips and his railroad spike of a cock, the wet slurping noise of him entering Christina’s mouth sounded obscene. Emma quivered—she could well imagine how strong the taste would be. She didn’t know how refined, nose-in-the-air Christina could like it so much… but she definitely didn’t hate it.

No one was that good an actress.

The way Frank held Christina to his groin was pure sensuality; the man was holding back everything not to force it even deeper into her throat. Straining his entire muscular body to let her keep enjoying what he needed so much more of.

Emma thought of reducing Frank to that… driving him to that… and a tingle rushed over her skin like a swarm of feathers tickling every naked inch of her. She felt woozy, the world dimming around the crystal-clear point where Christina’s lips held that massive endowment. What must it be like to have all that to fondle, to taste, to trap inside her mouth until it gave up the seething seed in that bloated scrotum…

First the purple head, touching her plump lips, dwarfing them, but disappearing inside them nonetheless. Emma would hold that sensitive crown between her teeth, teasing it, torturing it, making it feel exactly how nimble a tongue could be. Swirling and rolling around the dome until simple pleasure became worship. She would make sure Frank knew how much she wanted that first crucial inch of his length well before she let in the second.

(She strained her eyes as Frank let Christina back off his cock a little, allowing Emma to see it emerging from Christina’s mouth, twitching and jerking in delight.)

How much would she take into her mouth before she tightened her lips into a perfect O and sucked as much as that big dick deserved? Four inches? Five? Maybe she’d use her tongue at the same time—if she could manage—what a strain it would be, just letting the tip rest in the cradle of her tongue while she tried to suck away Frank’s incredible reserve.

(The noise growing as Christina sucked harder and harder, moving faster when she plunged her mouth back down on his erection, like an addict needing a bigger hit all the time to satisfy herself.)

Soon she’d start to use her teeth. Not to hurt—she wasn’t sure she could hurt a mammoth cock like that—but to stimulate. Dragging her sharp little teeth all over his erection to force his endurance to the limit. Paining Frank before her lips and her tongue soothed away all the hurt. Making sure he didn’t forget for a moment how much she loved the taste of his prick.

(Christina’s cheeks went hollow as the suction increased. Frank groaned softly, the sound barely drifting to Emma’s ears.)

When his knob finally probed into the back of her throat, she’d swallow. Show him that she didn’t have any problem with throating his cock—not her. Sorry, sis: just putting a dick in your mouth didn’t make you a cocksucker. She’d show Frank that she knew how to suck, how to swallow… how to satisfy. She’d make sure that anytime Frank needed a blowjob from now on, he’d come to her.

“Yeah, you’re a good little cocksucker, aren’t you?”

Frank’s voice shocked Emma straight out of her fantasy—shocked her even more with the realization of how deep she’d been in her imagined tryst.

“Keep being a cocksucker… just a little while longer,” Frank husked, his voice showing more strain than Emma had ever heard from those statue-cold lips. “I’ve got plenty to give a whore like you…”

Christina reared up through Frank’s limp grip on her and snarled up at the man she was kneeling to. “Not yet, dammit, no! I want more! I wanna… fucking…”

And she dived back down onto his groin, filling the air once more with loud, wet suction. Frank redoubled his grip, fingers lacing themselves into the fiery red tresses that could’ve been Emma’s own. He guided her up and down, helping her restrain herself, helping her make it last, because despite her words, Christina was desperate to suck him as hard as she could.

Christina didn’t give blowjobs often, Emma guessed. Despite how much she liked it. And now that she’d lowered herself to something so dirty, she was determined to enjoy it the same way Emma would: shamelessly.

But it was Frank who decided what she got—how long she was allowed to suck. He buffeted her up and down, glutting himself with sensation in a sprint to the finish, using her mouth exactly like a cunt. He was face fucking her… face fucking Christina, Emma realized, voicelessly forming the crude phrase, one she never would’ve believed would be an accurate recital of events.

And what would it be like if it were Emma’s mouth that got to be his fuckhole?

Emma’s tongue leaked out of her mouth, twitching at the open air, which seemed so musky with sweat and pheromones that she fancied she could taste the precum freeing itself from that flaring cockhead. She flicked her tongue, trying to sweep it away… nodding her head as she imagined being encased in those powerful hands, being made to accept that rampant erection sailing down her throat and back out. As many times as it would take to make Frank erupt.

Them, Emma would take what he had to offer until her jaw was sore. God, he looked big, almost too big for Christina to get into her mouth. Emma tried to imagine it—the telltale twitch in his shaft saying she was about to get what she wanted.

When it came, when he came, Emma could tell Christina wasn’t ready for it. All that delicious cum filling her mouth, and filling it, and filling it. Would it taste more salty or tangy? Either way, Emma would savor every drop… if it were her. She would suck harder; was Christina sucking harder? She’d want to milk every last drop of semen from him, leaving nothing left to fill those fat balls.

Emma shook off her fantasy and found that her thumb was in her mouth, providing an all-too-insubstantial attempt at approximating what Christina was getting. The only taste was her own sweat. She was perspiring heavily while she watched Frank hold Christina down to his groin, making sure she took all that she’d demanded.

How she envied her. Emma shook her head; and Christina was probably ashamed of herself.

But the look on her sister’s face, even as she reddened with effort, was anything but shame. She looked up at Frank, gagging, but that was her throat, her body. Her eyes, windows to the soul that they were, showed she wanted it as much as he did.

However much her anatomy might rebel at throating that big cock and being force-fed an endless ejaculation, Emma saw that the cat-canary smile that would be on her lips if they weren’t spread wide by a spurting prick.

And implacable as he always was, Frank shook. Groaning out a satisfaction that was too much to carry even in his hulking body, he quivered until all the tension was loosed from his knotted muscles and all the cum had emptied out of his balls. Only then did he let Christina go.

In the newfound freedom of Frank’s loosened grip, Christina swayed pendulously—her breasts and her hair all bounding drunkenly from side to side. She lapsed downward, Frank’s flaccid length making a slow escape from her mouth. More and more of it spooling out of her slack lips into the open air.

God, there must’ve been a foot of it, still firm, still thick, only barely willing to relinquish the succor Christina had offered. But there was only so much that could be fit into Christina’s throat; so much that could come out. Finally, Christina dripped off the deflated cockhead and piled onto the ground, drooling out cum through a lewd smile. Unconscious. She had needed Frank’s shot more than she’d needed air.

Now she laid there, like a beast’s carcass under the foot of a mighty hunter, and Frank stood looking absolutely undiminished. His cock a weapon that was safetied but far from safe. It dangled between his thighs, dripping the dregs of the eruption onto Christina’s fallen body to put a signature on the work.

Emma could take no more. She pulled at her clothes, ripping them from her body. Every gale of fresh air on her naked skin was a balm for the heat she felt, but not enough. Especially her cunt. When she lowered her panties, the feeling of nudity was just enough to whet her appetite, make her realize how truly in need she was.