Roger Hurwell - Family Four-Play

But this was the same feeling without ejaculation. He continued to suck up his mother's cunt juice until his muscles told him to stop.

He fell back to the floor, aching, and looked up into her still gaping pussy. The pink inner cunt lips fluttered delicately and invited him to come back. He tried and found his neck simply wouldn't bent right. The muscles had been pushed to the limit. “Sorry, Mom, can't do it,” he announced. Slowly pulling himself out from under her, he sat up and licked the pussy fluids off his lips with gusto.

“But this much has been great!” “Uh, yes, I think you'll find that book to be quite, uh, stimulating, sir,” she said. He turned and saw a woman in a paisley dress scowling at them. Fred simply smiled and nodded to her before agreeing with his mother that it would be “stimulating.”

Gloria Munday had been uptight all afternoon over whether or not the head librarian had seen anything. She was deathly afraid that the old bitch might get it into her head that something wasn't quite right and simply fire her for cause. But, in spite of several searching looks and arched eyebrows, the older woman had done nothing in the way of even rebuking her junior worker.

For that Gloria was thankful. But her mind was still in turmoil over other things. She loved it when Fred sneaked in and fucked her like he had. And eating her out had been such a thrill!

Somehow, the almost-discovery had added spice to it that would have been lacking otherwise. Gloria wasn't sorry Fred had given her pussy that wondrous eating-out, but his earlier words had bothered her.

She knew that things weren't quite right between her and Don.

They hadn't been for almost a year. Yet she couldn't quite force herself to think it was time for divorce. She still loved the man and she thought he loved her. The spark, though, had simply gone out of their lovemaking. There was none of the illicit thrill she got from fucking her son. Once there had been a similar charge every time Don had fucked her. He was quite a cocksman. She remembered the long, fun nights when they had literally fucked from sunset to sunrise. But those were buried in her memory. They didn't happen any more. He was too tired. Or she didn't feel like it. Each of them was making excuses to avoid the other. And Gloria realized how close to the truth Fred had come. The marriage was boring them both to death. Gloria went through her closet until she found the flimsiest, most revealing nightie she had. She stripped off her staid, librarian clothes and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, stark naked, and admired herself. She turned first one way then the other. Hand on her cocked hip, she struck a high fashion model's pose. “Not so bad, if I do say so myself,” she told her image in the mirror. “For an old lady of thirty-eight, you're still pretty hot stuff.” She critically surveyed herself and decided she was, indeed, good-looking. Maybe not quite as appealing as when she and Don had married nineteen years earlier, but still one hell of a foxy lady. The way her tits sagged just a little didn't bother her too much. There was still enough snap if a man toyed with them to delight him. And the sag wasn't the result of poor muscle tone as much as it was the huge mounds of tit-flesh she had dangling from her chest. The waist was as trim as ever. She prided herself on how well she kept in shape. The way her ass flared out into a very womanly set of buttocks pleased her no end. Flexing her muscles even made her legs appear to be as sleek as a teenager's.

There was no doubt in her mind that she wasn't losing it physically.

Whatever problems between her and Don had to be the result of mental conditions. Boredom. She recognized it in herself. Every time he came home, she knew his little ritual. He would toss his briefcase stuffed full of useless papers and half-eaten sandwiches aside, grab the evening paper and retreat to a spot in front of the television.

Getting him to stir before dinner was hard and, after dinner, impossible. As long as the idiot eye was on, he would watch it.

And she was as much to blame. Had she ever tried to entice him away from the TV? Ever tried to seduce him and show him something even more thrilling than watching a football game? She slipped into the nightie and noticed it barely came to the bottom of her behind.

She bent forward and watched tie way it crept up, then she smiled.

This was going to be perfect. Reaching into the closet, she found another filmy dressing gown and tossed it around her shoulders. The peach-colored, gauzy material hid very little and highlighted everything. She looked like a French actress waiting for a sexy part in some movie. Gloria heard Don's car in the driveway. Heart beating faster, she waited for him to come in. The lights were down, candles flickered romantically in the dining room. The door opened and Don came swinging in, his briefcase thumping against the table as he tossed it aside. “Evening,” he called out. “Where the hell's the paper?” She went to him, more like a ghost wrapped in mist than the woman he had come to expect to be there. “Good evening yourself, lover,” she cooed. Her fingers reached out and sensuously stroked his cheeks. He blinked and took a full step away from her. “What the hell's going on, Gloria? Why are you all dressed-undressed-like that?”

“Don't you like it? I'll take it off if it offends you!” She began to remove the dressing gown and when Don saw the nightie was all she had on underneath, he rapidly reached out and pulled the gown back around her shoulders. “Hey, look, I didn't know you were ready for bed. Are you sick or something?” “Do I look sick? Do I feel sick?” She moved closer and her lips hungrily sought his. For a moment, he was taken by surprise. Then, when he had regained a modicum of his composure, he returned the kiss with all the fervor and passion with which it was given. Then, as if coming to his senses from some beautifully erotic dream, he pushed her to arm's length and held her there, simply staring. “What's wrong with you? You don't act like this, Gloria.” “Do you mind?” She hunched her shoulders, then straightened them so that the nightie fell open almost to the waist.

There was nothing but dimly lit space between her succulent tits and his body. “No, I don't guess so. It's just unusual for you to do something like this. But damned if I don't like it!” “Let's go into the living room. I've set up dinner there for you.” He followed her in, admiring the way her perky little ass poked out from under the nightie as she moved. He reached out and pinched her. It was pure impulse. For a second, he thought she would yell at him as she always did when he tried things like that. Instead, she surprised him with a long, juicy kiss that set his heart to racing. He sat in his usual chair and found her kneeling in front of him, a tasty bite of chicken held lightly between her fingers. She held it out for him and he readily took it, making sure to lick her fingers clean. They fed each other and Don felt his desire for her mounting. Yet he was confused at this sudden change. Once, an old habit hit him and he went to turn on the television set. When it didn't light up, he kicked it. She quietly told him, “The set won't work.” “Hell, how long has that been like that?” He kicked the set again, as if this would magically make it work. His feeling of frustration was immediately vented toward the inanimate set. “It'll work tomorrow. It's just for tonight that it won't work,” she told him. “I pulled the plug.”

“Why?” And then he had other things to think about. She came to him on her knees. The sight of her tits bouncing in front of her chest, veiled slightly by the peach-colored nylon, gave his cock a twinge such as it hadn't felt in years. When he saw the dark red nipples begin to rise he knew that she was as hot to fuck as he was.