A Time To Love 8 (Patreon)

Now she sounded like a girl mourning how drunk she would get even as she tipped the glass back.

“Ah, fuck, let him!” Penelope gasped. “It’ll be worth it! Anything would be worth this! Oh, it’s so wonderful to be a woman!”

Speaking of Penelope… I wanted all I could have of her, everything I could devour and touch and grab and look at and smell. But what I could get at was her taste and it was an unending font. I gorged myself on it. I wanted to cannibalize her. My zeal for her sweetness had as little end as that delicious flavor. It was the only thing that divert any of my interest from how good it felt to be pumping into Chloe as hard as I was.

I looked up and caught a glimpse of Penelope’s face as she tossed her head around—her features soaked in sweat, her teeth chattering soundlessly as they tried to stumble onto a word she could actually voice.

I knew Chloe had to be the same way now, like mother like daughter. All overwhelmed, a poor little girl on her first amusement park ride, not lucky enough to have picked something nice and soft like a Tilt-A-Whirl so she could get used to swooping and soaring and diving and spinning. She was back to making that “gh!” sound and even that was an effort for her.

Penelope, swarthier, earthier, more in touch with her base passions, was able to speak the thoughts that Chloe couldn’t quite let through her tangled plumbing. “This is love! I am in love! Oh, he can never satisfy me now! My husband will never be enough for me! Only you, beloved! Only your kisses… your tongue…”

She moved as though to wrap her legs around my head, like she would do for a man on top of her, claiming her, like she’d usually do for anything that felt this good. But of course she was standing up, so the attempt threw her off-balance. She tried to correct her stance, but her legs had gone all wobbly and finally she slipped down into a sit on her little girl’s tummy, swaying before me with glazed eyes.

“Gh!” Chloe let out, feeling her mom slam down on her. Thankfully she didn’t weight that much. It was no more an imposition than one cheerleader stepping on another’s shoulders. And I knew what to do with cheerleaders.

The spend I was working on would be wasted on Chloe, her head lolling to the side, all out of the virginal tightness that had so thrilled my manhood. So I decided to give it to Penelope. The thought took me up right to the edge. It was a strange sensation to feel like coming even as I slipped out of the warm sheath meant for that purpose.

But I felt like Tarzan of the Apes, about to let out that howl of his, as I came to my feet, standing over Penelope, and aimed my cock at her face while she wore a look that was barely sentient. One loved-up animal, ready for me to give her the only thing an animal needed.

That lovely face shouldn’t ever be covered up, except like this. She realized what I meant and shut her eyes, putting on a delighted smile. Knowing that would be under the mask I gave her set me off in fine style. There was a beast in me—an insatiably ravenous predator that’d clawed and bit at my insides as I fed it with tastes of these two women, only making it hungrier and hungrier.

Now I exorcised it. Letting it out in galloping torrents that hit Penelope’s face, covered it, then covered it again. She could only moan as I purged myself of all the lust I’d drunken out of her—adding to the mess I’d already made of her face like frosting on wedding cake.

Until I was dry, my hammer hitting on empty chambers, and Penelope was in much disbelief that I’d stopped as she was that I’d kept going and going. She must’ve thought for a moment that I had enough of this hot honey for her as she had for me. She tittered a little, impressed with me for how much I’d given and a little bit with herself for how much she’d taken.

At that moment, a woman could’ve come up with a cure for the common cold and I’d still think she’d be better suited to taking a man’s spurts. There was just nothing like it… no greater satisfaction than seeing her kneeling there bathed in all the lust I’d conjured up for her. Man alive, I wished I had a third ball so I could pour some more onto her.

“God, you’re good to a woman… I can’t wait to see you again,” Penelope purred, every word sending strings of my seed tumbling from her jaw to whiten her rumpled clothing like the first snowfall of winter. “With my face all made up once more… and you knowing you’ve correrse all over it… oh, mi amor, the way you show your love…!”

She mewled her way down onto her back like she was weighted down by how much I’d pasted her and ended up lying on top of Chloe, the girl coming back to herself enough to wrap her arms around Penelope and cuddle her. Like they were a pair of friendly woodland nymphs in some painting by one of the European masters. One that used a lot of white paint.

“What smells so good?” Chloe murmured, seeming like a woman talking in her sleep as a dollop of my cream ran off the side of Penelope’s face and hit the bridge of her nose.

Even with enough whipped cream on her that if she were a pie, you wouldn’t be able to tell the flavor—I knew Penelope was smiling. “Stick out your tongue, Chiquita. See if it tastes as good as it smells.”

Groaning—like even that was an effort after all her orgasms had taken out of her—Chloe pushed out her tongue, stretching with it until… “Mmmmm.” Her tired voice suddenly seemed full of energy. “Who cooked this?”

“You did, pequeña. And I helped. Now we can have as much of it as we want.” She wiped a bullet of the stuff from her brow before it could get into her eye and offered her finger to Chloe. Following her flaring nostrils, the girl wrapped the digit in her lips and sucked hard, bombarding herself with the taste. “Dulce de leche… with milk from a goat… a very horny old goat…”

Penelope turned about until she could nestle her forehead against Chloe’s… rub on her, cheek to cheek, like they were dancing… lick away some of what she’d deposited on Chloe’s face the same away Chloe was tonguing what I’d left on Penelope.

It was a damn inspiring sight and I thought I could feel my workers going into overtime, the factory cranking it out like Boeing during the war, wanting to be sure I had the ammo for the battle I was going into.

I wanted to try out Penelope’s cunt. I wanted to eat Chloe out. I wanted to seed that little darling’s face so she could return the favor to her stepmom and I could watch more of this perverse spectacle. As affectionate as the two kissing, but even more debauched, more arousing.

Hell, I hadn’t even noticed, but I was feeling top of the world. Not a trace of weakness. At that moment, it seemed no surprise at all that despite the pint or so of my essence that I’d left on Penelope’s face like a flag on Everest… I was ready to plant some more flags.

Penelope’s face was still bleached despite all that Chloe had licked up and plenty of Chloe’s new favorite food had spilled down her chin in her hunger for more from Penelope. I could tell her appetite would only grow if she was offered more fresh from the source…

Now they kissed, licking and sucking at each other’s tongues as avidly as they’d gone after the seed smeared on their faces. The taste of my cum still had to be strong on their tongues after they’d flooded their mouths with it, but the added note of flavor—the lasciviousness of encountering female lips at the other end of a kiss instead of ones like mine—clearly sent them to new heights.

Drawing out the delirium that I’d driven them to… perhaps starting it over, in the same way that my flagging erection once more felt like a railroad spike just needing somewhere to go… If I spent that much in her face, what would I do in her box? How much of my passion would I show her?

But of course, it was greedy as hell to think so much of l’amour at a time like this, in a place like this. And I paid for it.

“Hey! What’ve you got them doing, you duking son of a bitch!?”