1. The Devil's Pact Ghost of Paris Chapter 9: The Marital Bed


    Date: 8/5/2017, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Cheating, Cuckold, Straight Sex, Mind Control, Wife / MILF, Author: mypenname3000, Source: sexstories.com

    The Devil's Pact, The Ghost of Paris by mypenname3000 edited by Master Ken Copyright 2014 Chapter Nine: The Marital Bed Tuesday, September 17th, 2013 – Paris, Texas It was nearing midnight and Heather Pritchard lay on her side, snoring softly, which was strange to hear coming from such a beautiful, young woman. She was my favorite bedmate—a redheaded vixen that loved my cock. Tonight I had made a deal with the demoness Astarte: she got to possess Darleen Cummins's body until dawn and I got unlimited sexual stamina. The only problem was I couldn't seem to get any satisfaction. After making my wish, I fucked Carla Hardings—the famed paranormal investigator who came to Paris to investigate me—on a public bus. When the cops showed up, I fucked elfin-faced Officer Snider up the ass and left her begging for more of my pecker. Then I came to Heather's house and I fucked the girl for three hours straight. I must have cum ten times, leaving buckets of the stuff in her various holes, and wearing the poor slut out. And I was still horny. I was thinking of waking the little slut up and fucking her again. We could be as loud as we wanted; her parents' bedroom was at the other end of the house and they never heard a thing. The way her daddy had been drinking, he's probably dead to the world anyways, and her momma never seemed to check on her. My mind drifted to Linda Pritchard. She was mighty fine for a woman in her late thirties. A pair of nice titties filled out her blouses, and her ...
    ass was only a little too plump, but that added some nice curves to her. Heather would be a lucky gal if she looked half as hot as her momma in eighteen years. I bet I could slip into bed and fuck her without even waking up her husband Elvis. The thought of fucking a woman next to her passed-out husband sent a dark thrill through my body; my pecker seemed to ache even more. I slipped out of the bedroom, padding through the house as quiet as a burglar. After carefully opening the door, I spied the couple on the bed. He was fat, on his back, and snoring like a saw mill, sleeping off his drunk. His wife lay on her side, sandy-blonde hair almost glowing by the moonlight. I ripped away her covers, revealing her body clad in a cotton nightgown that covered her modestly from head to foot, decorated with little blue flowers. I slipped into bed with her, stroking her beautiful, peaceful face. She stirred, muttering something. I grasped the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up to reveal a pair of sexy legs. Her hands batted at mine. “Not now, Elvis,” she whispered. “Trying to sleep. I'll jerk you off in the morning.” “I'm 'fraid I want more than a handjob, sweetness,” I whispered in her ear, my hand reaching up beneath her hem to feel her sleek thighs. Her eyes popped open with fear and I clapped a hand over her mouth and muffled her shout. I soothed her, “Don't you fret, sweetness, I ain't gonna hurt you. Just gonna make you scream!” My other hand reached her panties, rubbing her cooch ...
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