The Wife And Skeleton

Yes, swallowing one's own come, or licking one's own pussy love-juices, is-almost-futile, unless you are extremely narcissistic, and that may be. Whatever...

Yes, baby...:) A complex matter it is--that of eating one's own. It delves very deep into Freud's cannibalistic studies, and all the taboos associated with that.

One can't "Eat oneself" and survive, but one may allow another to eat of-the-self...and therefore--carry-on....

Consider this:---

A man: A woman--trapped in an underground cave...

An abundance of air-stale but sufficient- Water--plentiful, but brackish: They were close to the coast before they went in there; and, it is relatively warm now--down there in the cave, where they were, where they got trapped.

Food---non-existent: Except for mold, and the occasional lichen.

Chapter 2.

Before their cell phone battery dies, the rescue party informs the couple, that help is on the way, but with the best digging equipment available, it will be at least 45 days before they can dig them out. The human body can survive 45 days without food, but barely...

There was nothing to do but to wait there in the darkness of the cave.

They hugged, and kept each other company 24 hours a day, but due to the intense anxiety of the situation, the husband took to fucking his wife, four, five sometimes six, or seven, times a day. There was nothing else to do so, he fucked her pussy doggy and missionary style along with her ass-hole day in day out; but, he always had a liking; in their rather-chased-marriage-to come in her mouth.

She, ever since her step-daddy made her blow him every day, following her 18th birthday, when her mom was down at the supermarket shopping for food; coerced into swallowing his load, by the threat that if she didn't:

Do as he demanded.

He would leave them--her and her muv, and cut off all subsistence to them. So she swallowed him--every fucking day! ...in the very protection of her--and her mom; as an after-thought, of course.

After years of that! ...Oral sex was strictly "off-the-menu", baby, in her marriage.

It was "old" baby--fucking OLD!

Chapter 3.

She would fuck like a stoat and come screaming like a nun; but, wouldn't dream of allowing her husband to even touch her lips with his cock, let alone come in her mouth! It was a step-daughter's prerogative.

But down there in the darkness---in the darkness of the cave---it was different.

He had become her master--he had become--a beast to her.

At first she recoiled, and objected, but he persisted.

He got rough with her, and dragged her head around by the hair; to do as he wished. He tore at her clothes: Her clothes Oh! She loved her clothes so much. She cried silently when they got ripped.

He taught her well! So well in fact, that no matter if he had done her in the cunt, or in her dirt hole, he always ended-up by ramming his throbbing cock all the way down her well-oiled step-father-gobbling throat; coming time after time directly into her tiny little tummy--she wished she had never told him about her, and her step-dad, he was never quite the same--after that...

He always had her finish-up by licking his cock and balls and ass-hole clean--readying him for the next time--when he felt so disposed, to take her again!

Toward the end of their 45 day incarceration, he was too weak to stand, and too weak to even move; let alone fuck her: She laid him out-flat, and propped his head up perpendicular to his chest using a fallen boulder as his pillow. It would be easier for her with his head in the vertical position.

Hour after hour, there in the darkness, she began to work on him, rubbing her cunt and dirt-box in his face, and sticking her fingers deep up his ass-hole, digging her nails hard into his prostate almond nut; sucking and gnawing at his cock with every thing she had.

Finally, as weak as he was, the pheromone stink of her cunt and dirt-box combined would invariably induce some flicker of life into his limp, deflated, cock: And when she sensed a "rise" out of him, she would re-double her efforts, sucking him furiously, pissing in his face, opening her pooh-pooh hole; rubbing his nose deep in its unwashed musk, until finally, she had him, Tantalizingly pushing out a pungent head of a turd from her opening and closi9ng asshole; poking him in the face with its tapered end, then sucking it back into her hole...then centering her bung-hole rosebud over his mouth, and alternately ejecting her turd through his lips into his mouth, then retracting it up into her open, gobbling shit-hole. She could do this for hours. This is how she learned to come, years ago, by sitting on the toilet bowl, and rubbing her pussy frantically, and squeezing out a turd halfway, then sucking it back up into her ass. Her best friend told her to practice this every day, because when she got married, she would have to come as her husband fucked her in the ass-hole. So she might as well get used to it, and fuck herself in the ass-hole with her shit turds! She never missed a day of practice, and by the time she got married, she came every time she took a shit! She ate a diet if figs, and prunes, and nuts. And came three to four times a day on the potty.

Chapter 4.

She would tear at his shaft and helmet with her teeth, and when she felt his bleeding cock start to pulsate, readying itself to come, she would deep-throat him, like a Vegas Pro, but by choice now, not through coercion---something he had always dreamed and prayed for, in their marriage, but never got, until now...

He would be allowed, barely, half an hour's rest, then she would be at his bell-end again--24 hours a day!

He grew weaker and weaker with every ejaculation down her throat.

In the end, he was so drained and wasted, that she was almost tearing his balls out of his flaccid sack; punching them, and digging her nails into his buttocks and legs, and ripping handfuls of pubic hairs out of him. Both his nipples were missing, where she had pinched them clean off, looking for arousal from him. She ate the nipples. It tasted like--chicken, she thought.

She, straddled on top of him in the 69 position now--all day long--, working her meal-ticket to the hilt; in the end she didn't even stop to go to the bathroom, but did it right there in his face, pee-pee and bong-bong! He had told her once of a similar fetish of his, where he wanted her to do number-one, and number-two in his face; well now his ship had finally come in, and the cargo was hot and stinky!

She was a singer in the church choir, and reproached her husband for not taking a greater part in the spiritual and religious aspect of their marriage, but now he lay there almost comatose, totally exhausted, as she worked her holes, into his face, with the precision, and dexterity, of a school nymphomaniac, who had wandered into the football team's dressing rooms by mistake, after a winning game, and decided to stay--for a while...

She had rubbed most of the skin off his forehead, lips; chin and nose with her hairy cunt--now that she couldn't shave. Her beaver was as course as grade 10 sandpaper. She could hear it abrading his face, as she worked her holes over him like a Turkish belly dancer. He was too weak to object.

Close to the end: In a final desperate attempt to get her food, she rammed her full hand all the way into his ass-hole, and literally grabbed hold of his prostrate gland, clutching at it awkwardly, massaging it carelessly--raking at it so insistently, that she almost tore it clean out of his ass.

It worked, and his cock hardened once more! She stuffed it greedily deep down her throat again, and with a few more, well-timed, deft squeezes at his bulging gland, he came! Almost ten full, hot, shots this time, of thick, white, creamy come down into her esophagus, and it ran, sticky and syrupy down into her hungry waiting tummy.

With a final gasp, and rattle, her husband lapsed into a coma. She pulled her hand roughly out of his wrecked ass-hole with a pop! and a waft of wet clay. She rolled off him licking her lips, kicking him, rolling him over, pushing him away--far away from her--with her feet. She was finally done with him.

An hour later, the rescue party broke through, to find her in reasonably good health, but her husband was totally emaciated and drained. She, almost rosy cheeked, and he, looking like a vision of a plastic bag that had been stretched over a skeleton's frame.

At the hospital, doctors were amazed to find that the wife had actually put on weight during the 45 day ordeal, but the husband weighted less than the clothes left on his back.

The wife had developed a taste for hot come, and blew three doctors that afternoon, before she was discharged. After-all it was lunchtime, and she was starving!

She had to keep-up her strength...

She had a meeting with a divorce attorney's voracious appetite...

No! No one is going to pull her hair, or tear at her clothes--not when she has the strength to fight back--Cave or no cave!

And believe me---she is a fighter!

Be careful what you wish for...J