The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 8 (Part 13)

I obeyed. He splayed my legs wide. I watched as his stiff, shiny prick was sucked back into my greedy pink maw. His left hand clasped my upper buttock, right arm snaked around my lower back and, once more, like a watermill hammering grain, he… well, hammered my hot cunt. My eyes slipped to half-mast, my mouth, slack and dried by panting breath, could not contain the upwelling of nervous energy springing from my very center. I exploded like a Covent Garden firework. Internal muscles—untried as they were—clenched and rippled around the marvelous satin poker, poking me deep.

You can go to this page which has links to all the complete previous chapters.

9 thoughts on “The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 8 (Part 13)

  1. drainbrainx August 3, 2017 / 11:25 am

    Hot as fuck….love the line “hammered my hot cunt”…. fuck yesssssss


  2. Life of Elliott... August 4, 2017 / 10:24 pm

    like a watermill hammering grain… My God, there has to be some kind of special award for lines like this!


    • lurvspanking August 5, 2017 / 4:51 pm

      I think it’s the Purple Prose Award for best agricultural reference for fucking. 😉 Enjoying tossing in the odd phrase now and again.


  3. Ina Morata August 5, 2017 / 8:53 am

    Wow! It certainly WAS worth waiting for! Wetting my lips in utter delight at this one. I love the ‘Covent Garden firework’ – made me smile.


    • lurvspanking August 5, 2017 / 4:52 pm

      Too many Regency romances. Covent Garden is shorthand for ‘loose morals’.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ina Morata August 5, 2017 / 4:53 pm

        Is it really?! What a mine of information you are! Don’t tell the people who live in Covent Garden…


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