I’d heard of squirters and seen films and pictures but neither Helen nor the only other woman I’d ever fucked was one. Carol certainly was and I ...icked my lips tasting her sweet juice. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in an orgasmic grimace as she watched and another gush shot out and over me.That was all I needed. I groaned, arched my back and filled her belly.“Oh, Yes, my lovely, Dave!” she cried. “Fill me up you fucking bastard. Fill my old cunt with your lovely spunk.”I. I still wanted him; still needed him, but I couldn't cope with his behaviour any longer.This, you understand, was sexual. The almost public fornication, and random household impalings. His habit of leaving notes in my underwear drawer, obscene messages on my phone. His large rough hands lifting me carelessly by the hips, skirt around my waist, knickers around my knees. His equally large cock, shoving me against the wall with a lovely solidity. Toe-tingling, muscle-cramping, scream-inducing. More

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