The Atm
- 4 years ago
- 3
- 0
Teaching Mrs. ATM free porn video
"So what does it taste like?"
I've always asked that whenever I stuff her mouth with my cock immediately after I rammed her asshole. I've never gotten an actual answer, just a snide stare looking up as my dick stretched her lips.
"So what does it taste like, you whore?"
Again, no response.
I didn't need one. I simply asked so I can remind her that my cock had just been in her ass before I shoved it in her mouth. I wanted to remind her that despite her being a clean cut elementary school teacher by day, she was an absolute fucktoy by night; my fucktoy.
No, she wasn't my wife. And I wasn't her husband. Mrs. Palomini and I hailed from the same picturesque, affluent suburban town straight out of a 1960s sitcom, filled with manicured lawns, white picket fences and gas-guzzling minivans. We had the best school districts, the biggest houses and the most exclusive country clubs.
My wife was a classic domestic housewife, Mrs. Palomini's husband was the cliched suit and breadwinner. And they were both dreadfully boring.
I had always known Mrs. Palomini from school functions and volunteer community service, but she struck me as just another boring clean-cut citizen of this town. Our affair began as pure happenstance with the two of us yearning for more taboo desires.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even casual courting. It was plain hardcore anal fucking like we were doing right now.
Technically, I was sent out to pick up the usual groceries this evening. Milk. Eggs. Loaf of bread. And my wife's prescription allergy medication. However, I used any and every excuse to meet with Mrs. Palomini. After chucking the brown paper grocery bags into the back of our SUV, I simply pulled into the long corridor behind the shopping center where the large truck trailers delivered food. That was where I summoned Mrs. Palomini for a quick romp before we both had to return to our own homes...
...and our own spouses.
It took her only 4 minutes, but with my heightened anticipation, it felt like 40. Her car pulled up next to mine before she and I exited our vehicles only to climb into the backseat of her compact sedan. The two of us were alone this late behind the food mart, nothing but the crickets that roared in the summer heat and the moths that gathered by the lone lit lamppost. That still did nothing to deter my haste as I didn't even bother to properly undress Mrs. Palomini, simply pulling up the hem of her floral summer dress and yanking down the elastic waist band of her white panties. She was still wearing the same outfit she wore in front of class today.
No foreplay. No sensual sweet talk. We've never even kissed. Ever. I came here specifically for one thing: ass-to-mouth.
Even in tight quarters, I maintained my aggression and impatience, bending Mrs. Palomini over the backseat as I squatted behind her. I rushed to unbuckle my belt and pull down my trousers, my already stiff and ready rod slinging out of my pants like a spring loaded catapult.
Again, no foreplay, no warm-up, no coercion. I took my bulging erection and shoved its thick head directly into Mrs. Palomini's tight brown hole. Her first instinct was to retreat, sliding forward until her face pressed up against the glass window of her car, her librarian glasses sliding down the brim of her nose. But she had no where else to go. I pulled her skirt further up and grabbed her f0rcibly by her waist with two strong hands, my fingers leaving red impressions on her fair skin as it dug deep into flesh.
Cornered and restrained, I went in for another try at insertion, this time sliding in the tip of my cock into her butthole. First an inch. Then 2. Then 3. Soon, I was halfway in, my dry shaft stinging as it rubbed against the inner lining of Mrs. Palomini's rectum. It was just the beginning, but Mrs. Palomini was already emitting ear-piercing shrieks. That only made me want to shove my cock in further.
And further in I went, pushing as far as her clenched ass would allow. The natural reaction of her sphincter was to tighten and push the intrusion back out, but all it did was create a snug fit for my dry cock inside her rear end.
Still not deep enough.
I labored to shove every last inch into her chute, unlubricated and raw. No oils. No protection. I wanted to feel her hole stretch around the veiny surface of my shaft. Slowly but surely I kept pushing inward to fit it all in, trapping Mrs. Palomini into the crevices of her backseat.
Finally. Full insertion. Balls deep. My sac pressed firmly against her lower lips. Looking down, I paused, reveling in the disappearance act of my huge cock lost into the depths of her asshole. I kept it there as my dick twitched with glee, and I knew that she could feel every pulse inside her tight end. There was only one thing I had to do now. Repeat the process. I was going to fuck her ass.
Slow pacing was all but behind us. As quickly as I arched back and pulled out, I went just fast in slamming it back in. Every last inch thrusted right back into her tight brown hole. As amazed as I was that her rear could fit all of me, I still worked extra hard to push her limits. Just how hard could she take it?
Mrs. Palomini's cries echoed within the tight quarters of the car, seemingly vibrating the glass and plastic trim of the dashboard. I knew her anal sex-induced shrieks extended beyond the foggy windows of her sedan. But we were alone. No one could hear her. So I rammed harder and harder, taking out years of a frustrating marriage and dull suburban life out on the ass of our esteemed elementary teacher of the year. And she was going to have to take it.
I felt Mrs. Palomini retreating further into the backseat, shoving her face into the leather to smother her whines of mercy. I grabbed as much of her flowing brown hair as I could with a firm grip, yanking it toward myself, drawing her shoulders and arching her back until her face was in the open, her mouth ajar as it emitted one long siren of agony. My pace only quickened, the reptitive thumps getting louder and louder.
"Ow" , "No!", "wait and hold on" turned into moans, "yes fuck me", "faster, harder, deeper". No longer the intelligible school teacher, she was in a stupor, reduced to a dumb whore who knew nothing beyond the sensation of having her asshole reamed.
But hardcore anal sex was only half of our relationship. I took this opportunity to give her ass a quick break, pulling my still throbbing cock out of her rectum. We were both heavily panting, but I remained frenetic in my movements, rushing to turn her over until she was laying down on her back in the backseat.
I pointed my dirty cock right where it belonged. She knew what to do with it, and it was instantly in her mouth.
Mrs. Palomini knew how to suck. It wasn't those reluctant head bobs along my cock that I received from my wife ages ago. She wasn't going through the motions of moving her mouth along the shaft. She sucked. And she sucked hard.
Immediately engulfed between her cheeks, I could feel the suction as if she wanted to pull my organ from its base with just her inhale. Her head rotated with each descent and withdrawal, creating circular twists of her lips around my rod. Her tongue flicked wildly underneath. It wasn't like she cared that this cock was just deep in her ass. It was like she loved the flavor.
"So what does it taste like.... So what does it taste like, you whore?"
No response. I never get a response. Just the same sarcastic gaze back up at me as her mouth swallows as much of my cock as it can.
Her blowjob grows increasingly wet, with frothy foam bubbles leaking from the corners of her mouth as my cock stretches it wide. She is a smart gal after all. She's making it extra wet for lubrication, knowing it's about to go right back into her ass.
And right back into her ass is where it went. She didn't have much time lounging on her back to suck me off before she was bent over the backseat again, her side cheek face smashed against window, her repetitive exhales making the glass fog in front of her.
The spittle glazing along my cock from her blowjob made for a smooth re-entry into her butt. But I wasn't going to make it that easy for her. That just means I had to fuck harder. Once again I yanked her hair back until her toes curled and her fingers gripped deep into the leather. Once again, I was going full throttle on her asshole. She lost her voice, her loud moans replaced with only deep panting of exasperation as her tight hole is stretched even more.
I couldn't help but to think of how she could come into work the very next day. How was she to look at all of her 4th grade students, attempting to teach algebra with a gaping asshole leaking sweat, spit and cum? This is your teacher, boys and girls. This is your teacher who has a pair of testicles slapping against her cunt as her ass gets repeatedly punched.
That thought of an anal school teacher was more than enough to get me off. But I didn't dare to stop, maintaining my pounding into her chute, even as I deposited load after load of thick seminal batches into her rear. I didn't bother telling her I was cumming. I knew she could feel it, her tight quarters being filled with warm cum as it was simultaneously stretched.
I was utterly spent. But Mrs. Palomini wasn't.
Despite my climax, Mrs. Palomini was not done with my cock in her ass. Nothing that a simple position switch couldn't fix. Keeping my waist and her buttocks locked, we twisted awkwardly but efficiently in the backseat until I sat in the middle seat with Mrs. Palomini on top. She leaned over until her upper half wedged between the driver and passenger seats, sweat running down her back and onto my stomach.
When she was positioned just right, she commenced her bouncing, fucking her own ass with my still hard cock. The squeeze of her ass muscles was more than enough to keep me aroused, her asshole basting my own semen along the length of my shaft as a thick, gooey and creamy spread coated my cock from base to tip, only to be recollected inside her moving anus.
Fucking her with her own anal creampie was both sticky and slick at the same time, the sound of the gushy jizz packed into her chute were as loud as the slaps of her cheeks bouncing on my thighs. I am reminded as to why I leave my wife often to sodomize this other woman: she loves anal sex.
I feel the familiar splashing on my inner thighs as Mrs. Palomini's orgasms yet again, her cunt spraying from the sensation that its adjacent hole is feeling. Even as the whore of a elementary school teacher squirted profusely in the backseat, I knew she has to do one more thing to achieve our "climax". She had to clean my filthy cock with her mouth again.
She was quick to hop off the saddle and bury her chin deep into my sac once again. She had more to clean off my cock this time. But it was no different for her, slurping the cum, spit and contents of her ass off my rod. I struggled to keep it hard for one last stretch, twitching as I felt the suction from Mrs. Palomini's throat drawing more bl00d into my erection. She still wanted me hard for just a little bit longer as her head bobbed in between my lap.
Finally, my exhausted cock is clean, its filth replaced with just a shiny coat of spittle that glistens in the moonlight. Mrs. Palomini grips its base intimately to hold it up as it softens. She leaves one affectionate kiss at the very tip, her lips temporarily sticking to the urethra of my cock. Then she kisses it gently again. And again. She does not want to say goodbye to it. She suckles on the head one last time, but there just is nothing left to resurrect its firmness, so she tucks it back into my drawers. She composes herself, her legs visibly weakened and her asshole noticeably sore. We each exit the door from the back seat, one after the other. There is no goodbye. There isn't even so much of a thank you. Instead, we hopped into the driver seats of our respective vehicles, and drove in opposite directions.
When I had finally returned home, I was met with a rather impatient wife of mine. Before I could place the milk into the fridge, I was having it snatched away from me as she brewed some evening coffee.
After a few pours until it was a light caramel color, she finally handed the milk back to me before taking a sip of her mug.
"BLEH!" she shouted in disgust before spitting coffee into the sink. "It's spoiled! Again! You bought spoiled milk again! That is the fourth time this month! What is wrong with you?! Don't you even bother to read the expiration date?"
I looked down at the carton, only to see a stamped date that was 3 weeks from now. It sure as hell wasn't expired, but I didn't argue. I simply acknowledged my error before walking away, flashing a slight smirk away from her as I thought about the elongated fuck behind the supermarket in the summer heat that had made the milk go bad in just a few hours.
I conceded to my angry wife that I would rectify my mistake. I grabbed my car keys, slipped on my shoes and headed out once more toward the market for fresh milk. I drove a measly two blocks from my own home before I began dialing numbers in my cellphone.
"Hello.... Yeah it's me again... I'm heading out...
... I don't care how sore your ass is. Meet me in the parking lot again. This time, bring your minivan, we'll need the extra space... Ok great. I'll see you soon, Mrs. Ass to Mouth."
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