spitter left for dead

“Guh! Guh!! Guh!” Carol grunted each time my cock hit the back of her throat. Saliva dripped from her lips and my balls slapped hard against her chin with each thrust. I pulled a fistful of hair hard and held my dick in the back of her throat. Her lips almost touched my newly shaved torso.

“Good girl, Brianna! Good girl!” she purred, moving her hand back to my shaft. “And since you asked so nicely...” she laughed and started thrusting again, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. Whatever she'd given me, whether it was Viagra, or ecstasy, or some cocktail of the two with who-knows-what thrown in on the side, it wasn't long before I started noticing the effect. I could feel the pressure building and building, like a heat at the base of my shaft, growing to a fire, then an inferno, searching for a release.

She moaned louder, squeezing my hand and nodding her head. Daddy was clearly enjoying himself too as I caught him in the corner of my eye, grinning wickedly and slowly stroking his still mostly-flaccid cock as he watched the show. Mom was slower than I normally was, either because I didn't really know what she liked yet, playing with her clitty, or just because she was still so conflicted about this whole thing, and her doubt was getting in her way. She did still get there though, gasping and trembling, only maybe ten seconds or so before Brucie started cumming as well. She was still shaking through the aftershocks when her eyes suddenly went wide again.