Pussy Tits Ass
(One month later)
Fannie Wunderchuck strode through the Keegan’s house with a purpose: find her husband and get OUT of here. Denise Keegan had been head of the PTA for two years before Fannie had roped the position, but there was just always something ... suspicious ... about this family. Something just not—
“OW!” Fannie spun around to see Paul Acer, the chemistry teacher sitting in a chair. “MISTER Acer! I have had my rear end pinched more times at tonight’s party than I have in my ENTIRE life! And your little pinch just now is simply one sexual harassment too many! Do you know what that MEANS?!”
“Oh, I KNOW this one!” he fidgetted. “It means that, one, you have the looks of a dark-haired Pam Anderson and, two, your prudish grandmother obviously possessed you and took over your body and mind in order to stamp out everything pleasurable in the world, but, three, the pinches are exorcising her evil spirit so that you’ll melt back into the little sexpot that you were always meant to be. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Fannie stared for a moment, astonished. “It means ... YOU no longer have a job. I am going to have you SUSPENDED first thing tomorrow morning, and you will NEVER work as a teacher again!”
“No ... I don’t think THAT’S what it means.”
She narrowed her big beautiful eyes. “You just watch me.”
Paul Acers leaned back, crossed his legs and stretched an arm out over the back of the padded chair. “Believe me, little sex bunny, I INTEND to! Now you be sure to put on a good show for daddy tonight.”
“I ... don’t ... BELIEVE ... you ...,” she whispered. She spun around and strode off in search of her husband. There were going to be QUITE A FEW people that she was going to get suspended!
Fannie made her way to the kitchen, where she found Denise Keegan in high heels, a bikini and a t-shirt, cutting up celery and placing it on a platter with dip in the center. Braless, no doubt, if the jiggling ripples bouncing across her busom were any indication.
“What kind of party are you running here, Denise?” Fannie challenged.
“Oh, I certainly hope a fun one! Not like one of your boring, staid little ‘get togethers’.”
“Well, at least MY parties are PG-rated!”
“I know. That’s what I just said,” Denise smiled sunnily.
“You—did you—are you AWARE of what some of your guests are DOING?! I have had my BOTTOM pinched! Several times! And they—but you—do you have any—”
Denise pulled a dildo out of a drawer, held it up and arched one eyebrow. “Do you need a pacifier to help that stutter of yours, Fannie? ‘Cause I have just the thing, right h—”
“Denise! You are just FILTHY!”
“I AM,” she giggled, “Aren’t I? It’s part of my charm.”
“It’s—part of—your—we’re leaving. Harold and I will have NO PART of your tawdry little ‘party’!”
Denise went back to chopping vegetables. “That’s just that much more man-meat for the rest of us.”
Unbelieving, Fannie walked out of the kitchen. Had this woman really been a PTA mom?!
She strode to the dining room. Maybe Harold was THERE!
“Oh, I don’t get morning sickness,” Mrs Pittman bubbled to five men and one woman standing around her, " just get horny (giggle)!”
Fannie’s jaw dropped. The pregnant woman was standing in the center of the room, her spacious blouse lifted up to expose her whole swollen belly. Directly in front of her stood Fannie’s own Harold! His hands were reaching up under the front of her blouse to cup and squeeze her pregnant boobs!
“HAROLD!” Fannie screeched. “WHAT are you DOING?!”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. Patty was just showing me how big her boobs have gotten. I had forgotten how much I like big milky tits! Maybe I oughtta knock YOU up again. Would you like that, honey?”
“HAROLD! YOU PIG!”
“I guess that means no, hungh?”
“Get your HANDS off her BREASTS!”
“Oh, I don’t mind, Fannie. Let him play.”
Fannie walked up and slapped her husband’s hands away from the teacher’s breasts. “Harold,” she said, a deadly tone in her voice, “If you want to still have a wife tomorrow, you will go get our coats, and we will leave. Now.”
“Awww,” Mrs Pittman taunted him, “Did knifey-wifey cut off the balls?”
“And YOU—" Fannie jabbed a finger at the pregnant teacher, “—are not FIT to teach children!”
“My ... what a tightass ... can you bend keys and spoons with that sphincter?”
Fannie glared at her. “Harold!” she called without breaking her stare-down with Pittman.
“Yes, ma’am.” He hurried out of the room.
“I know a secret ...,” Mrs Pittman whispered to her, “... that you don’t.”
“It’s probably pornographic!” Fannie spat.
“How’d you know?” Patty grinned. She dropped back to a whisper. “It’s pornographic ... AND it’s about YOU!”
Fannie waited, but the other woman just smiled smugly.
“What? What is your secret?”
“Way ... deep down inside of you ....”
“There’s a ....”
“I can’t say.”
“What? What’s inside of me?”
“There’s something ... trying to get out ....”
“I ... can’t say.”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“You don’t have any secret.”
“Maybe not. But you do.”
Mrs Pittman silently toasted her with her glass.
“Harold?!” Fannie called over her shoulder. “What’s keeping you?”
Denise Keegan scurried in then, carrying the tray of dip and vegetables and wearing only heels and a skimpy apron, baring the sides of her breasts and her naked ass.
“Denise! You’re—you’re NAKED!”
“There’s that stutter again, Fannie. Do you want a—”
“Your husband? He’s out in the kitchen with me.”
“Harold!” Fannie marched to the kitchen, trailed by the giggling Denise. “Harold, what are y—”
Fannie halted in her tracks. There before her, Mrs Joan McCloud, without a stitch of clothing, stood bent over the kitchen table. “Hi, Fannie,” she beamed.
Behind Joan stood a naked Bobby Keegan, his pelvis pressed to hers, slowly grinding it around.
Fannie swallowed. God, the boy’s lean buttocks were ... distracting!
“He can do you next if you want,” Denise told her cheerfully as she stepped by her to return to the kitchen counter. “He’s an excellent fuck. I can vouch PERSONALLY for that!”
Fannie shook her head. What was the woman SAYING?! That she had ... BEEN ... with her OWN SON?! That was ... LUDICROUS! Even for this bizarre family!
Fannie turned to see her husband sitting in the corner. A blonde woman was there with him, wearing only a set of panties, sitting in his lap, her arms around his neck, grinding her ass at his crotch.
“Hi, I’m Annie Layton,” the blonde said cheerfully. “Is this your hubby? You lucky cunt! He’s yummy!”
This was just ... too much.
Fannie looked over at Denise. The woman was leaning on one elbow on the counter, the other hand tucked up under her apron, fingers obviously moving rapidly at her crotch. As she watched, Denise sighed, then brought both hands up and began slicing cheese for another tray, wiping her juices on the slices.
“Did you ... fix the vegetables like that too?!
There was a moment of silence, then Denise turned around. “Oh, you mean me? Yeah ... I’m afraid so. I’m so horny that I just have to reach down and give a frig or two every few minutes.” She looked away and got a naughty smile on her face. “Except for SOME of those vegetables. Some of them got ... put places. Lucky vegetables ....” She shrugged and smiled. “But I don’t think anyone will mind. Do you?”
“You’d like it if you tried it. I have very tasty juices. I’ve been told so.”
Fannie turned around when she heard Joan McCloud’s rhythmic squeals get higher in pitch. As she watched, the young woman clenched and clawed at the table, then slowly relaxed, allowing herself to limply drape over the table’s edge.
“Oh, Denise (sigh) ... you son is being SUCH ... a GOOD BOY!”
“Isn’t he, though? He sure can satisfy his MOTHER’S itch!” She paused, distracted, then quickly reached underneath her apron again.
This was just ... UNBELIEVABLE!
Bobby pulled out of Joan and stepped to the open, his stiff prick bouncing. “You wanna have a go, Mrs Wunderchuck? Little fella’s still at full mast.”
Fannie just gasped. This could NOT be happening!
“G’head,” her husband said, and she glanced at him. His shirt and pants were gone, as were the blonde slut’s panties.
“I—I ... can’t,” she breathed. “It would be ....” Whorish.”
“Here ... let me help put you at ease, Mrs Wunderchuck.” Bobby stepped behind her and brought his hands up to cup her breasts through her blouse.
And she ... let him.
And she LET him!
But ... the squeezing ... and fondling ... just felt so ... right. And calming. And soothing. “Oooooooh ...,” she sighed, trembly with bottled excitement.
“Feels better, doesn’t it?”
Fannie slowly nodded.
She glanced over at Harold, and the sexy blonde whore was pulling his underwear off. And ... Fannie didn’t know if she’d ever seen her husband that hard before.
The courteous young man was unbuttoning her blouse, and she looked at him, startled. “It’ll feel better this way,” he told her.
“O ... kay ...,” she sighed.
He popped her bra, then politely slid it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
“O ... kay ...,” Fannie sighed again, not believing in any way that she was standing here in front of these people, topless.
The boy’s hands went to her breasts and nipples, and she melted. “Oo-o-o-oo-oh!” she sighed, trembling. “Oh! My!”
“You are ... SUCH ... a slut, Fannie,” Denise told her.
But she wasn’t ... she wasn’t a slut ... was she?
“Oh, FUCK it!” Denise said, whipping off her apron to stand naked. “Everyone!” she called to the crowd in the dining room and den, “I’M for dinner! Everyone come EAT me! Pussy is served!”
Several folks wandered into the kitchen, including Mr Acer, who smirked at Fannie when he saw her letting her bare boobs be fondled.
“I’m not ... a slut ...,” she defended herself against his leer and the echo of the earlier accusation.
“Mmm-hmm,” he just smiled.
“I’m NOT! I’m NOT a slut!” She felt Bobby’s hands at her waist, unbuttoning her skirt, and she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m ... not ... a slut ... Bobby ....” She was torn between putting a stop to this and ... and ... and letting him ... continue!
“Of course you’re not, Mrs Wunderchuck.” He slid the skirt over her hips, leaving her in just her heels and panties. “You’re just a little loose.”
Bobby stroked his hips, sliding his erection up and down between her pantied ass cheeks. “OHGOD!” she gasped and clenched the top of a chair for support.
“Just let me know any time you want me to stop, Mrs Wunderchuck.”
“You don’t ... have to ... YET ... Bobbie ...,” she gasped and sighed.
“Mm-hmm,” that aggravating Mr Acer kept smirking.
She glanced at her husband, and that beautiful blonde sex kitten was straddling his lap, bouncing and giggling.
Fannie pushed her ass back against the boy’s strokes. Oh ... FUCK! ... That felt GOOD!
She felt his hands grab her panties, and she quickly clutched the waistband. “N-noo-o,” she said in a trembly voice. That was the last thin ... (wet) ... thing seperating her from whoredom.
Swallowing hard, she let him slowly slip the waistband from her grip, then slide the panties down to her ankles, where she delicately stepped out of them.
Now she was ... standing NAKED ... for all this crowd to see .... A shiver of involuntary excitement ran through her.
She felt his warm hardness as the respectful young man slid his ... hard, hot ... jism cannon ... up and down between ... her ASS CHEEKS! GodDAMN! It was getting HARD—no pun intended, she giggled—to CUNTROL herself!
Acer sat there in a table chair, nodding with a smirk, so goaddam beligerantly smug that she was ... nothing ... but a slut ... a slut ... nothing but a cum-hungry slut ... a desperate WHORE begging for—oh, FUCK it! Maybe she WAS! Maybe she WAS just a cum-slurping WHORE!
“Fuck me ...,” she sighed, barely audibly.
“What?” the courteous young man driving her mad with his fuck-tool asked.
“Put it ... in me ....”
She saw Acer nod his head, all his suspicious confirmed in full.
“I’m sorry,” Bobby asked, “What was that?”
“JAB that HOT PECKER of yours up in my WET BEGGING HOLE! NOW!” She took a moment and collected herself. “Please.”
She jerked her head around, her eyes pleading.
“Not until after you suck me.”
Fannie pressed her pelvis back quickly, hoping to impale herself on him with or without his consent, but Bobby took a step back. Fannie turned around and sank to her knees, her eyes transfixed on his rod. “But I ... I don’t ... know how ....”
“Yes, you do.”
She glanced up at him, then returned her eyes to the god of her world now.
“You chaperoned the kids to Vegas on the senior trip.”
“Mm ... hmm ....” She leaned in closer, almost able to feel the heat radiating from it.
“And you stayed at the Star of the Desert Hotel.”
“Mm ... hmm ....” She touched her cheek to it, ran it up the side of her face. Ohgod, that was sweet .. the warmth, the wanting ....
“Oh, just suck him, Fannie!” Joan commanded impatiently.
Fannie suddenly sucked him into her mouth, at this moment in time, her hole of pleasure. Tongue action, suction, no teeth, lips tight—it all came naturally to her somehow. Delightfully naturally.
“Mmmmm ... that’s it, bitch,” her young gentleman told her, and she beamed with pride. “Lick it.”
Head bob. Rhythm. Suction and lips. Tongue flicking. Bob. Flick, flick, flick. She was SO proud when she heard his breath turn trembly.
She bobbed a couple minutes, servant to that magnificent cock, getting a diffuse sexual pleasure just from being an attendant, a slave, to this dominant male sex organ.
“Up,” she heard her young gentleman say from a distance through a haze laden with sexual eroticism, ready to condense into liquid droplets of pure ecstatic orgasm.
“Hungh?” she responded dazedy.
“Up. I’m going to fuck your hole.”
With a dizzy eagerness, she staggered up, holding the chair for balance, and bent over the table.
“Fuck ... this ... slut ...,” she breathed.
Bobby obliged, and the meticulously proper lady squealed over several octaves upon entry, then moaned heartilly with each stroke.
Within a minute, she was shrieking and clawing at the table, then stiffening as waves of pleasure ravaged through her. But she didn’t come down. Like a submissive leaf, she floated in the air, a new waft of passion lifting her back up every time she thought she’d descend and become of this world again.
After several minutes of nearly continuous orgasms, she felt her lover spray his juice into her.
After a minute, Bobby smacked her hip and pulled out. “You’re a pretty good whore, for a prude.”
Oh! He was PLEASED with her!
Exhausted, she lay draped over the side of the table.
Joan McCloud reached over and began lightly playing with the other woman’s hair. “Your girls look so SATED when you finish with them, Bobby.”
“Are you still feeling sated, Joan?”
“Weeelll,” she grinned. “I’m ... uhm ... ready to go again, to tell the truth.”
“I’m going to need just a few.”
“I understand. You know, you’ve knocked me up.”
“With my student’s child. Isn’t that dirty? Doesn’t it just make you so horny, just to even think about? Porked and planted with a student’s sperm, my belly swellin’ and poppin’ in the next few months.”
“You’ll make a beautiful mother.”
“Just remember, Bobby. Just because a woman gets knocked up doesn’t mean that—”
“—she stops having sexual needs,” Bobby grinned. “Now where could you have heard that from?”
She traced her fingers down his cheek. “Are you still going to fuck me, lover? Eventually we’ll have to do it doggie style. I KNOW you like it that way!”
Bobby rubbed his hand possessively over her belly. “You’ll get more beautiful each month.”
God, this talk was making Fannie hot again! She laid her hand on her abdomen and mentally told her eggs to spread their little legs wide. She was already loaded with Bobby’s jism; if one of the little spermies took root, she might one day be on her hands and knees, her belly swelled, taking it up the cunt doggie style. OOOH! She shivered with anticipation.
Bobby frenched Mrs McCloud, then headed into the den for some more action. Still lightly playing in Fannie’s hair, she asked her, “It’s delightful when she comes out, isn’t it?”
“She ... comes ... out ...?” She was too sated, too complete to even bother lifting her head off the table.
“They put a slut inside you at Vegas. When you get her warmed up enough, she comes out and does this to you. Yours just bloomed.”
Fannie focussed a little more—this had to do with what she had just experienced, and that made it an important topic. “How ... do I get her to come out more often? Like, maybe, every ten minutes?”
“I’m not sure. They put a slut inside of me, and she comes out any time I see a cock. But some people are different. Denise’s slut is out all the time.”
Fannie gazed over at Denise, bent over, getting pumped in the pussy and in the mouth at the same time, and she felt envy. Lucky bitch.
“If you’re like me, though, you won’t remember.”
“Won’t ... remember ... this pleasure?” It was about enough to bring tears to her eyes.
“Nope. When my slut cools down, she crawls back in her shell and hides. Until she cums out again.”
“I don’t want her to hide ... I want to be a slut all the time!”
“Take another trip to Vegas. Maybe they’ll fix you up right if you ask them nicely. I’m considering it.”
Fannie vowed then to schedule such a trip and blow every casino boss in Vegas if she had to, until they turned her into a permanent whore.
Joan sighed. “You’re beautiful when you’re sexually sated.”
Fannie lifted herself off the table, then kissed and tongued the young teacher. “So are you. But, I’m not sated. I’m horny! If you’ll excuse me.”
“Sure,” Joan smiled.
Fannie walked back into the living room, her stride a little funny because of the craving between her legs. When she saw Mr Acer, she made a beeline toward him. When she got near, she sank to her hands and knees and crawled to him.
He was stripped naked, a scruptious-looking erection standing tall in his lap. He gave her a condescending smile.
“You’re right,” she smiled. “You know me exactly, Mr Acer. I’ve been exorcised, and I’ve melted right down to the desperate cum-slut that my pussy wants and needs me to be. Can I please suck your cock now, sir? Pleeeeease?”
Paul Acer spread his knees so the pretty young PTA mother could crawl in between his thighs and suck his toenails out his cock.