Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 627: Horny Old Hag

Emily’s cunt unleashed—not a trickle, not a dribble, but a fucking torrent—the moment my cock popped free from her stretched, gaping pussy. The sound was disgusting—a thick, sloppy SPLAT-SPLAT-SPLAT as her juices exploded out of her, hitting the floorboards in hot, sticky bursts.

The first gush was the worst—violent, uncontrolled, spraying everywhere, her thighs shaking as her pussy pulsed like it was trying to push out something deeper than just cum.

"AAAAAAAAH—! FUCK—! UHHHHH—! HMMMMMMM—!"

Her fingers flew to her clit the second my cock left her, rubbing in frantic, sloppy circles, her other hand spreading her pussy lips wide—forcing herself to squirt harder, longer, like she was punishing herself for how good it felt.

"Nnngh—! Yes—! Fuck—! Right there—!" Her voice cracked, her moans turning into screams as another wave hit, her juices shooting out in short, desperate bursts, hitting the floor, the walls, even her own stomach—dripping down her skin in thick, obscene streaks.

"Oh god—! I’m—! I’m still—! Aaaaaah—!"

Her hips jerked, her ass clenching as she forced another spurt out of herself, her fingers mashing her clit like she was trying to dig the pleasure out. The sound—squelch, splat, drip—was filthy, wet, the kind of noise that made it clear she wasn’t just cumming—she was flooding, her body emptying itself in shameful, uncontrolled bursts.

"Mmmmm—! Fuck yes—! Look at this mess!" She spread her legs wider, her fingers still rubbing, still forcing more out of herself, her juices pooling beneath her, soaking into the wood. "You hear that, grandma?!" Her voice was raw, guttural, her breath ragged as she ground her clit harder, her pussy twitching with every spurt. "Hear how much I cum for him?!"

Another gush—this one weaker, but messier, dribbles running down her thighs, her fingers slippery with her own filth. "Aaaah—! Fuck—! It’s everywhere!" She laughed, breathless, cruel, her fingers still working her clit even as her body trembled from overstimulation. "Bet you wish you could make a man do this to you!"

Her pussy clenched one last time, a final, pathetic dribble escaping her, her juices coating her fingers, her thighs, the floor—everywhere. She panted, her chest heaving, her cunt still throbbing, aching, her clit swollen and red from how hard she’d rubbed it.

"Mmmmm—" She licked her lips, her eyes half-lidded, drunk on the filth of it. "Bet you never came like that—" Her fingers trailed through the mess on the floor, gathering it before bringing it to her mouth, her tongue darting out to taste herself. "Mmm... so good—."

She grinned, her fingers still glistening, her pussy still dripping, her breath slowly steadying.

Then she reached for the doorknob.

Her fingers found the doorknob—not to open it, oh no—but to tease, her knuckles tapping against the wood in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Or are you just hoping..." She leaned in, her lips brushing the door, her voice dropping to a poisoned whisper. "...we’ll invite you in?"

A choked, humiliated sound came from the other side—half sob, half gasping breath, like the old lady had been holding it the entire time.

Then, without warning, she yanked herself off my cock, her pussy making a filthy, popping sound as I slipped free, her juices dripping down her thighs. "Mmmmm—" She licked her fingers, tasting herself, her eyes locked on the door. "You want a peek, grandma?"

Emily stood there, her ass still throbbing from the way I’d just pounded into her, her thighs slick with her own mess.

Emily smirked.

Then—

She wrenches the door open.

The old lady didn’t scream.

She didn’t move.

She just—stopped.

Her entire body locked up, her mouth falling open in a soundless gasp, her eyes going wide—wide—wide—as they landed on me.

On my cock.

The latex gleamed, slick with her juices, the veins beneath throbbing like they were trying to burst through. The head of my cock pushed against the condom’s reservoir, swollen, angry, the tip bulging obscenely from the pressure of my precome—thick, pearly droplets beading at the tip, weighing it down just enough to make the latex strain even more. Every pulse of my heartbeat made it twitch, the condom creaking like it was begging to give way.

It twitched in the air, heavy, the tip almost brushing Emily’s ass as she shifted her weight, her pussy still dripping, still aching from being stretched.

The old lady’s gazeflickered—from the head of my cock, down the length of it, to the mess of Emily’s juices coating

"S-S-So..." The old lady’s voice cracked, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips.

The old lady froze.

Emily’s laugh was low, cruel. "Aw, Old Hag." She reached out, her fingers hooking in the old lady’s cardigan, yanking her forward just enough to make her stumble. "Cat got your tongue?" Her eyes dropped—deliberately—to where the old lady’s hand was pressed against her skirt. "Or is it just too wet to talk?"

"I..... I... !" The old lady’s face burned crimson, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

"Mmmmm—" Emily hummed, her fingers trailing down, circling the old lady’s wrist before sliding up her arm, her touch mocking, possessive. "You were so sure you weren’t listening." She leaned in, her lips brushing the old lady’s ear, her voice a poisoned whisper. "So prove it."

The old lady flinched. "P-Prove—?"

Emily’s grin was all teeth. "Show me your panties, grandma." She pressed closer, her naked body radiating heat, her pussy still dripping, her scent thick in the air.

"If they’re dry..." She trailed off, her fingers tracing the old lady’s collarbone, dipping lower, threatening to slide beneath the fabric. "Then I’ll believe you weren’t getting off on listening to me get fucked like a whore."

"Y-You can’t—!" The old lady’s voice cracked, her hands trembling where they clutched her skirt.

"Can’t?" Emily laughed, the sound dark and knowing. "Or won’t?" She grabbed the old lady’s wrist, forcing her hand away from her skirt. "Come on, Old hag." Her voice dropped, sweet and venomous. "Let’s see how honest you are."

The old lady whimpered, her knees nearly buckling.

Emily didn’t wait.

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of the old lady’s skirt, yanking it down just enough to expose the elastic of her beige, cotton panties—the kind that screamed "I gave up on sex decades ago." But the fabric... oh, the fabric told a different story.

Emily’s fingers pressed against the crotch.

"Mmmmm—" She hummed, her touch lingering, rubbing in a slow, deliberate circle. "What’s this, Grandma?" Her voice was soft, mocking. "Feel that?"

The old lady sobbed, her entire body shaking.