Balling for Charity

I kept leisurely pumping long after we finally came down from our crescendos, each pump eliciting a low moan from each of us. Finally, I rolled Sybil off onto her side. Her perfectly coifed hair was a mess, her painstakingly applied makeup running -- for the first time ever when I looked at her I thought her not just sexy, but beautiful.

"You fucking animal," she laughed, through her smeared lipstick. "What the hell was that? Your first fuck ever?"

"No, but my best one. It's your fault for keeping me hard and horny for a month thinking about burying my tool in your hairy cunt."

"Haven't you heard of cold showers?" she shot back, now with a full blown case of the giggles.

We bantered for another fifteen minutes or so, neither of us anxious to have the moment end. Then something unusual -- for me, maybe not for super-studs, but for a basically normal guy like myself. I started getting hard again. Sybil felt my cock coming back to attention, lifting up the bottoms of her closed pussy lips.

"What the hell is that now, Jerry -- you are an animal, aren't you?"

"I can't help it that you make me feel like the King of the Jungle," I smirked as I kissed her again, and then unceremoniously flipped her onto her hands and knees and started stroking her crotch and inner thighs as I positioned myself behind her. She never said another word, but grunted and groaned like a pine swaying in the wind, as I poked her with my fuck tool and started banging away.

I was in heaven as I pummeled her, in no rush to ejaculate again since I wanted it to last as long as possible as I squeezed her ass and played with her rosebud while I stroked away. But when I increased my pace and her mammoth tits started clapping together, that wondrous sound combined with her spasming pussy as another orgasm overtook her, put me over the edge and I blasted another full load into her.

When an hour later we were re-dressed and about as composed as we could be considering our activities, we dropped off the cash box with the $8,800 of raffle proceeds at the bank night depository, then I drove her home. In the darkness of a cloudy new moon night, I lovingly kissed her, told her I could never give up fucking her, and watched her as she disappeared into her house with a wave and smile visible in the light of her porch lamp.

Two weeks later, my parents took the kids as Justine and I went on a ten day "second honeymoon." I had been so handsy and mushy, it apparently had gotten her mojo working again. Justine and I fucked every day on our trip, once even a tit fuck, which we had done only twice before (when her boobs were enlarged during her first pregnancy), though no orgasm for her.

We had only been back home for a few hours when I got a call from Brent.

"Dude, I don't know what you did, but you're now my favorite mother-fucker in the whole world. I'm back in the saddle again, and it's better than it ever was. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Well, since Sybil and I can only get away undetected to fuck once or twice a week, and since our passion for each other had made us borderline sex-craved, Justine and Brent are the surrogates and beneficiaries. Both married couples -- Justine and I, and Brent and Sybil -- now no longer have sexless marriages. Instead we're fucking at more than twice the national average of 58 times a year. When Sybil and I combine that with the 80 or so times a year we're tit, pussy, or ass (yeah we've moved into that with each other too) fucking, we're two happy, and almost "satisfied," campers.

The charity "ball" was so successful, Sybil and I are now diligently planning another event. How to surreptitiously get away together to a Caribbean Island for a fully satisfying fuck fest.