SEA OF FLESH-8
Filed Under Incest
SEA OF FLESH-8
According to the bulletin the proprietress circulates,
“The Wormpit is a place where lush, fecund, and insatiable
ladies, with the aid of unlimited supplies of potent elixirs
and anonymous virile males, can, in the company of other
lubricous women, disrobe and indulge their lusts in profoundly
uninhibited ways for as long as it takes to lapse into contented
and glutinous delirium.”
A NIGHT AT THE WORMPIT-8
But, back to the state the Wormpit was in as Charolette and
son found it late on a Friday afternoon. “Do ya think
everybody’s here for the same thing like we are, mom?”
“I’m sure they are, honey, ” the mother
twisted to see her son as three Caribbeans tried to encircle
her.
The Wormpit has seen outrageous sex, and it’s not easy
to set a new record in degenerate behavior. But, when Charolette
brought her son into such a setting so he would eat her out,
the Wormpit would reach new immorality that night.
When well over a hundred aroused and sexually favored bodies
are flooded with alcohol and either naked or getting naked
in a dissolute setting like this, fluids needing release
will have accumulated in sumptuous abdomens. Then, accompanied
by gasps, grunts, bestial roars, curses and screams, these
fluids are indiscriminately transferred orally and genitally
from flinching body to lush flinching body. Anyone, male
or female, inclined to feed from erupting cunts will find
no shortage of eager crotches demanding receptive mouths.
No matter the sensibilities of finicky men wanting to suck
unadulterated pussy where few women have arrived unsullied,
the Wormpit is still the place for mouth and cunt to meet.
So, when sounds of gasps, grunts, squawks, and squeals
intermingled with: suck it’s, eat me’s, and occasional,
yes’s, harder’s, and fuck me’s thrown in,
the femininity attached to those sounds is real, very real.
These sounds are often punctuated by the occasional female
voice shouting, “NO! NO!” meaning YES,
and “SUCK ME HARDER!” These wonderful noises
are emitted by exuberant, morally abandoned women; real
women with very lascivious needs and lush bodies to accomplish
satisfying those needs!
And cunt sucking is what Charolette brought her son here
to have him do to her flowing pussy.
“Look at the floor, mom. There’sh people all
around fucking already!”
Fucking AND SUCKING, dear.
As both mother and boy eagerly assessed this club, bouncing
breasts, bobbing cocks, jiggling balls and cantilevering
ass cheeks could be seen in almost every direction.
Luxurating with love loads in her pussy and mouth from the
Hispanics, Monique rose from between the two of them and
hurried after a tattooed stud who had passed her as, on her
hands and knees, she had just finished getting it doggie.
“Fuck me! Uuuuhhhh, ” Monique gasped as she
caught up.
“Hey, ” growled a stud who had been drawn by
her voluptuousness, “I was gonna fuck her!”
“That’s OK. We’re all gonna fuck her, “
another assured.
“Uuuuuhhh! Uuuuuhhh! Uuuuhhhh!” Monique
grunted as the tatooed stud rammed his cock into her.
“OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH!”
emanated in a female voice from over in a corner of the room.
This sound had been mixing with the usual gasps, grunts,
and groans, and broken by periods of silence to drink or
exchange lovers, would continue throughout the night.
It wasn’t the oh yah’s that distinguished Sharon
as much as the shrill screams. A night at the Wormpit wouldn’t
be complete without Screaming Sharon’s gradually
building oh yah’s that always led to howling, screeching
releases which could nearly deafen nearby fornicators.
“AAARRRRUUUUUHHHH!” escaped from Monique’s
hairy lover along with the contents of his balls which spilled
down his shaft to be sprinkled forth by the ferocity of Monique’s
violent masturbating.
Large black hands next encased Monique’s breasts
as her orgasming lover’s loins rose from the floor
lifting her body backward into the welcoming arms of the
new arrival. She craned her neck back and attached her lips
to those of the black kneeling behind her.
Delivering more cum up into her insides, Moniques orgasming
sex partner spasmed out his last thrusts.
“OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH! OH YAH!”
Sharon was at it again.
Two naked beauties, Monique and Lucette tried to avoid
bumping each other but thanks to their drunkeness, managed
to nearly collide, and ended up breast to breast, holding
on to steady themselves. “IIIII SAAAW YEEEU FUCKIN
EEVREE BOOODEE!
Charolette thought she had been to the ultimate orgies
at Jenny’s where people got completely deranged and
fucked themselves into unconsciousness, and then, woke
up, got drunker and fucked even more. But this! WHAT HAD
SHE BEEN MISSING? Wild horses couldn’t have dragged
Charolette out of the Wormpit!
Sharon, in her forties, was a sinewy, brown haired beauty
who had become a fixture at the wormpit. She’d arrive,
sometimes in the middle afternoon and sometimes late at
night, clad only in a robe which this beauty would immediately
discard to display spikey, aroused breasts and a hairy,
cloven, beehive sized cunt mound. She didn’t waste
any time finding lovers, and her sounds insured replacements.
Firm and dark nippled, her breasts weren’t large,
but her hips and buttocks swiveled and bounced provocatively
when she walked and thrust violently when she fucked.
Oval faced, globe breasted Monique was impaled upon the
thick cock of a very hairy man jouncing happily. She clutched
one of her breasts with one hand and brushing against the
other breast with her other arm, was masturbating herself
through the fuck.
Both mother and son were overwhelmed by what they were seeing.
Larry had participated in a small orgy in his living room
involving two females, his mother and Mindy, and seven
other men. It was wild! Then later, he had been at Jenny’s
orgy, much larger, with seven women and perhaps twenty
men, and it was wilder. But now, this enormous room was teeming
with people, either fucking, sucking or getting in the
mood. This was like Jenny’s orgy five to ten, no twenty
times over.
As Monique’s lover’s expended cock dropped free
of her cunt, unstoppering it so this last love load along
with the others could drain out and down the crack of her
ass, a tall, bearded male crawled over from the side.
Adorable female faces atop mostly large and either bullet
like or ballooning jugs interspersed with medium, globular
and firm bosoms, and sometimes spikey, pear shaped breasts,
shown forth through the darkness. These lovely female
visages were usually bracketed by three or four times as
many, often brutish, male visages.
“Look at her, ” a sultry female voice slurred.
“She’s gettin off again with different guysh.”
“Where?” a gruff male voice responded.
“The one in the middle with the tatoosh on her ass.”
If time lapse photos were taken of any beautiful face, say,
perhaps a picture taken every half hour, the male faces
surrounding any such beauty would always be different.
Time lapse photography wouldn’t display the pulsations
of these lovely faces thanks the fucking. The observant
spectator would, however soon notice that more women approached
men than men approached women. And it would be the women
who scrambled over men’s bodies to flail themselves
into orgasm rather than the men on top of the women.
And the women’s lovely faces would contort into demonic
visages during release. But thanks to the rotation of new
lovers along with more libation during that interval,
each woman’s face would be changing too.
Each and every lovely feminine mask would gradually melt
into a gism spattered aspect of desperate derangement
by the end of the night.
Each and every formerly presentable woman, now a leaking
flesh tank of cum, would devolve into a maniacally drunk,
glistening assed, bobbing breasted, slavering, naked
embodiment of oleaginous insatiability.
Transformed by the magic of the Wormpit, many now demonic
loved ones would arrive home to their awaiting mates in
that wonderfully dissolute condition, cursing and screaming
at their husbands and children for someone to fuck or suck
them not realizing they’re no longer at the Wormpit.
At the most booze driven, chaotic portions of the night,
with screams, curses, shouts, grunts, roars and howls
deafening the ears, one could survey the panoramic assemblage
of naked clambering scrabbling flesh and what the observer
would see is not male bodies in action as much as the female
forms in motion. It’s the women, not the men, who stand
out in good, uninhibited orgies.
“Careful, you’ll get drunk, ” a man was
heard saying.
“Too late, I’m already drunk.” gasped
a feminine voice.
“Then, you’ll get drunker.”
“Sooo?”
As their eyes adjusted, Charolette spotted women approaching
clusters of naked men either along the walls or, some lovelies
also nude, sitting at the tables with other men.
Bouncing breasted Monique, a Desiree Cousteau look alike,
passed them, being conducted towards another part of the
room by a stiff cocked, naked male who growled, “Don’t
worry, slut. They’re all well hung over on this side
of the room, too. You’ll get it big time.” She
must’ve asked a question, because he answered, “They
got booze fer ya.”
Two naked women were sitting in a circle of several men.
“I love to wash naked bodiesh cum together, “
a womanly voice opined. “An hear the sexy sounsh of
slapping flesh.”
“I’d rather make the slapping souns. Whattya
say guysh?” another slurred female voice responded.
