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Battle Training, Tearlag Moves into the Keep.


He took her left hand and placed it between their bellies. "Feel me, my love. Feel my cock fucking you."

Mrs. Olson's fingers touched his gigantic, slimy black snake as it slid slickly back and forth between her everted pussy lips.

"Ohhh," she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Does it arouse you, dear, to feel us together like this? To feel my penis moving inside your pussy, fucking you?"

"Oh yes-s-s-s," she answered rapturously, flinging her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers. They kissed feverishly. He put his hands over the top of her head, clutching her tightly, as he fucked her brutally hard. They moaned into each other's mouths, their tongues cavorting like two slithering eels. The sound of flesh slapping flesh was coming at quickening intervals.

Mr. Olson, who had been lurking by the bedroom door for the past several minutes, heard the sounds and eased the door open for a look. He was accosted by the sight of his wife's sweet old anus being harshly spanked by Damon's big black balls. Mr. Olson eased the door shut and sank down on the floor outside the bedroom, nursing his drink in befuddlement.

After several minutes of this exquisite coupling, without dislodging himself, Damon rolled both of them over, putting Mrs. Olson in an upright straddle position. With his encouragement, she began raising and lowering herself, tentatively at first, then faster and faster, pausing at times to push down as hard as she dared, thrilling to the feeling of being thoroughly impaled on his stiff stander. Damon lay motionless, allowing her to do all the work, delighting in the sight of her massive swaying tits, her face flushed red with sexual exertion, her aged white pussy moving up and down on his glistening, young ebony cock. She leaned forward, allowing him to feast on her sweat-dripping nipples, while she humped his cock harder and faster. He parted her ass cheeks and fingered her asshole. He could feel her tension mounting as she careened toward climax, waiting until the most strategic moment before sticking his finger up her ass.

"OH! OH!" she cried, her body spasmodically jerking.

"Cum, darling," Damon encouraged as he now began thrusting up into her, "cum on my cock-kuh."

"Ohh! UNNNH! OH MY GOD! OHHH!" Mrs. Olson cried, her body violently spasming as she spun off into a salvo of orgasms. Damon felt a squirt of warm liquid hit his abdomen and realized delightedly that in her excitement she'd momentarily lost sphincter control and leaked a bit of urine.

Finally, as Damon felt his cock and balls ready to explode, he announced, "I'm going to cum inside you, okay?" It was, of course, a completely rhetorical question. And then, when his penis did erupt, he shouted, "FUCK! UNNH! YOU BITCH! WHORE! UNH! CUNT! OHHH!"

Mrs. Olson sobbed, feeling his cock thunderously jettisoning its sperm against the walls of her pussy. She grabbed his face in her two hands and hungrily pressed her lips into his.

It was at this precise moment that Mr. Olson, curious as to the source and meaning of all the commotion, opted to reenter the bedroom. He caught his wife and the young black man in the throes of passion, at the absolute pinnacle of their joint climaxes.

Mr. Olson's eyes fixed themselves on Damon's great, ropey-vesseled, ebony cock deeply embedded in his wife's vintage vagina. The monstrous thing was contracting powerfully in muscular waves, like an anaconda caught in the violent act of disgorgement. With every fresh pulsation of Damon's cock, another wave of thick white cum oozed from her pussy.

Mr. Olson clapped his hands to his head in shock and disbelief, his mind madly screaming, CHRIST! CHRIST! WHAT IN GOD'S GOOD NAME IS HAPPENING?!

But within moments of being back in Damon's mystical presence, Mr.

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