Emilys Revenge

Morty slid his slick shaft out of Victoria's insides and tugged back on her hips. Lifting her upper body, she couldn't exactly say she was upset to be relieved of the duty of lapping her tongue over her employer's plumped up clitoris. She simply stepped to the side and watched Morty close in on Mrs. Allister's spread legs.

Pinching and rolling each one of her stiffened nipples between her fingers, Mrs. Allister let the grin she wore fade and parted her closed eyelids at the loss of sensation between her thighs. She looked down to see Morty climbing onto the bed on top of her. "Damn it, Morty! What are you doing?"

Cradling the underside of her thighs in his arms, he pushed her legs back and guided the swelled head of his prick toward the wet and running opening of her hole and sank in deep.

"Morty, you..." Mrs. Allister's words were silenced and transformed into grunting moans as Morty set his hips into motion and began pounding his throbbing erection into her.

Victoria, who had been engulfed in the scene taking place in front of her, found the frame of mind to turn her eyes to the doorway where she found Mrs. Allister's daughter Emily also standing watch over the proceedings. The young lady raised a single finger up to her lips in a shushing gesture before stepping away from the doorway and moving on down the hall. Victoria turned her eyes back to the bed.

"Come on, Mrs. Allister!" Morty grunted as he stared down at the image of his cock hammering in and out of Mrs. Allister's quivering tunnel. "Do it! Cum for me!"

Mrs. Allister clenched her teeth together hard as a long, loud groan slipped past her lips. Lowering her eyes down to the sight that Morty was enjoying, she squeezed her fingers tighter around her nipples and started bucking her hips up faster to meet each of his thrusts. "Oh, you bastard!" Mrs. Allister hissed at him. Despite how much she resented this scumbag for having the audacity to give her an order, Mrs. Allister couldn't help but to comply as Morty continued to jam his hard-on in and out of her.

Her body shuddered and convulsed under the weight of her orgasm and Mrs. Allister, panting and gasping for air, lifted her eyes up to his smirking face. "Are you happy now, asshole?"

"Oh, yeah," Morty breathed out, his words a reflection of the feeling brought on by his trembling cock more so than in response to her.

Suddenly his hips stopped moving and he pulled out of her. He hoisted his body up over her abdomen. Mrs. Allister's face crinkled into a grimace and she quickly reached up and closed her fingers around the hot, wet flesh of his cock.

Leveling the tip of his prick toward the crevasse between her heaving breasts, she squeezed down hard until the first burst of white streamed out of the slit of his rod and sloshed down across her chest. "Give it to me!" she grunted through gritted teeth as she began to pump her fist back and forth.

Morty groaned profusely as Mrs. Allister used his pulsating rod to shower her chest with his fluids. When his tensed up muscles relaxed in exhaustion Mrs. Allister let go with a sinister bout of chuckling.

Victoria called Mrs. Allister over to the table next to the window that she was standing beside. When she came over Victoria asked Mrs. Allister where exactly she would like her to place the floral arrangement that she held. After having already been given detailed directions about where to set up the decorations for the gala event that Mrs. Allister was set to host at the house tonight, Victoria could see the frustration welling up in her employer's face.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Mrs. Allister said. "Put the..." Her attention was instantly distracted by something that she saw outside of the window.

What the hell?

It was Emily climbing into the passenger seat of the shamble of an automobile that Morty piloted.

When the car pulled out of the driveway Mrs. Allister stormed off across the room. "Just...put them anywhere," she said to the maid. She didn't have time to deal with this right now. Currently being in the throws of hosting the most prestigious gathering of the year, she would just have to make time later to deal with her daughter's misguiding.

Emily burst through the door of her mother's bedroom and hurried over to the vanity mirrors that she sat in front of in her bathrobe applying her makeup. "Mother! You'll never believe what happened!" she yelled out.

Mrs. Allister spun around in her chair and her eyes nearly leapt out of their sockets when Emily jutted her left hand out in front of her face. It was the big bright shining diamond accessory wrapped around Emily's ring finger that had left her in this state of shock.

"Morty asked me to marry him!" Emily said, unable to contain the words any longer.

"What!?!" Mrs. Allister gasped. "You...you can't marry Morty! What about Brad?" There was no way that she would allow that bastard of a man child to get his hooks into her daughter as well as their family's fortunes. She had to think of something and quick.

"I don't know," Emily said, pulling her hand back and examining the ring. "Brad's nice and all, but I can't really see myself being married to him. Morty on the other hand..." she cooed.

"Emily, you can't!" Mrs. Allister said, her face overwhelmed with fury.

"Well...I suppose I could be convinced otherwise if you say...sprang for a vacation in the Caymans?"

"Fine. Whatever you want. Just call it off."

"Of course I'll need some spending money."

Mrs. Allister turned back around to the small dresser in front of her and started rifling through the drawers. When she turned back around she presented Emily with three platinum credit cards. "Here!" Mrs. Allister grunted. "Now call it off!"

Emily relieved her of the cards. "Consider it done."

"That was a close one," Mrs. Allister thought as she watched her daughter skip out of the room. Now that that fire was quelled she could turn her focus back on the party. Her guests would be arriving at any minute and she had to finish getting ready.

Everything was going swimmingly. The guests that filled the area of the Allister's backyard around the pool all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but the culinary provisions were vanishing fast.

Where the hell was Victoria?

When Mrs. Allister retreated back to the interior of the house she found Morty in the living room. He was sitting alone polishing off a six pack of beer in front of the television.

"I don't recall anyone inviting you to this party," Mrs. Allister said to him. A smirk spread across her face at the thought of having spoiled his plot to engage himself to her daughter. She continued across the room and stepped into the confines of a large bathroom.

Staring into the mirror above the sink counter and touching up her makeup, it wasn't long before she saw Morty's image appear in the glass just behind her shoulders. Her eyes locked in on the cocky grin he wore. "You're in a good mood," she said.

Morty ran his fingers underneath the shoulder straps of her evening gown. "Any reason I shouldn't be?" he said as he moved the straps down the side of her arms.

After lowering the top of her dress he looked into the mirror at the voluptuous mounds of flesh that he had revealed. He reached his hands around and plucked her nipples to a solid condition.

"I just figured you'd be a little more upset, what with the cancellation of your big plans."

Morty reached down and lifted up the bottom hem of her dress, revealing the curves of her naked bottom. "Do you want to know what my plans are?" Morty said to her as he stared down at her naked ass cheeks.

A sinister sneer spread across Mrs. Allister's lips as she listened to the sound of Morty's pants coming undone. When he reached around her and pressed down on the pump of a lotion bottle resting on the counter, releasing a large glob of the solution into his palm, Mrs. Allister was brought to quiet giggles. She listened to the wet noise of Morty lubricating his stiffening shaft, thinking of the limited attention span that he possessed that would have allowed him to recover from Emily's rejection so fast.

She took a step back, spread her legs, and leaned forward over the counter. Morty lined the head of his cock up with her asshole and pressed it forward past her tightened sphincter.

Listening to the grunting noise he made as he pounded his slick rod up her butt, Mrs. Allister lifted her eyes up to his reflection in the mirror and said, "Guess you thought of something that you'd rather be doing instead of walking down the aisle with my daughter, huh?"

Morty sped up his hips and she shrieked out at the sensation. "I don't know what you're talking about," Morty said, looking down at the sight of his rigid pole moving in and out of her hole. "But I'll take fucking your ass over pretty much anything any day."

"What?" Mrs. Allister said, turning her head around.

The bathroom door swung open and Mr. Allister walked inside. "There you are," he said to his wife, his eyelids opening wider at the sight of her bent over the sink as Morty slapped the front of his pelvis against her ass cheeks. "I've been looking all over for you. Something's happening with the guests. What's going on in here?" he said, walking up beside Morty.

With his eyes still glued on the trembling flesh of Mrs. Allister's ass cheeks, Morty felt the quake begin to stir in the balls that slapped up against her wetness as he continued to plunge his straining rod into the creamy interior of her anus. "I'm cumming in her ass," Morty answered Mr. Allister.

No sooner than the words spilled out of his mouth did his cock explode and begin to pulsate a river of fluid out into her tightened hole.

Meanwhile Mrs. Allister had been going over what Morty had said to her in his head. "Didn't you propose to Emily today?" she said.

Chuckling softly, Morty slowly slid his shrinking shaft from her ass. "What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Allister was starting to rise when she felt her cheeks again part and a solid probe began to move up into her ass once more. Looking up into the mirror, she saw the image of her husband replace that of Morty's. "What about the guests?" Mrs. Allister said, her voice slowly morphing into a series of soft moans as her husband set his hips into action.

"Don't worry about it, dear," Mr. Allister said, relishing in the feel of the already slick funnel adjusting around his stiff rod. "They'll be alright..." He began to grunt loudly as he worked his erection deeper into his wife's ass. "...for a few more moments."

Morty refastened his pants with a smirk on his face as he watched Mr. Allister hammer his cock into the valley between his wife's ass cheeks. He occasionally cut his eyes over to the mirror and locked glances with Mrs. Allister. She managed to shoot him a disgusted grin or two around her moans and cringing facial expressions.

"Have you seen Emily?" Mrs. Allister asked her husband when she found the breath.

She let slip a short, quick yelp when she felt him sharply shove his prick up into her and grind his pelvis against her cheeks. He neglected to answer her, focusing instead on the throbbing in his cock the preceded the release of semen into the deep recesses of his wife's back end.

His senses finally returned to him and he remembered what she'd said. "Emily?" he said with his eyes locked on the sight of the rod that he slowly extracted from Mrs. Allister's asshole. "She left for the airport a little while ago. By the way, she told me to tell you thanks for everything."

Mrs. Allister turned her eyes and looked at her own reflection in the mirror.

When the Allister's returned to their guests outside they found that the once snooty, upper-class engagement had devolved into a raging naked flesh feasting orgy. There were naked bodies sprawled out everywhere; by the poolside, in the pool, on the plush green grass of the lawn. Mrs. Allister's gala event had been ruined. Later investigation would find that someone had spiked the punch with a combination of ecstasy pills and acid drops. Mrs. Allister wouldn't have to guess very hard in order to figure out who the culprit was.

Everything had worked out perfectly.

Victoria had succeeded in calling Mrs. Allister over to the window just in time for her to catch Emily climbing into the car with Morty. Courtesy of the ring that Emily had borrowed from Victoria, her mother would later be put under the impression that Morty had taken her ring shopping after his proposal. In reality, he had taken Emily to meet with one of his pill popping connections.

Emily sat in her first class seat on the airplane and raised a toast of champagne to Victoria who was sitting on the other side of Brad. With Emily's mother footing the bill, the three of them were sure to have the time of their lives.