Jane Tanner - Mother and son together

Marge Sayre awakened to the feel of a fat dick sensually worming its way in between the sleep-warm cheeks of her voluptuous ass.

"Mmm," she sighed, smiling as she clenched her buttocks around the forefront of her lover's erection and snuggled back into his embrace. "And just what do you think you're up to this morning?"

"As if you didn't know," the big redhead chuckled. He'd worked her nightgown up around her trim waist; now he pulled the front of it higher, cupping her clefted mound with one hand, rubbing it with an up and down motion as he tweaked the sensitive brown cones of the forty-three-year-old woman's embarrassingly small tits. Marge was nearly flat-chested and never went anywhere without wearing falsies in her bra. "Come on, baby, relax the buns. Daddy wants to go up the old dirt road."

"Oh, honey, don't," she protested, and winced as she felt his hard glans wedging insistently into her tiny rectum. "Your cock's so big. It hurts me too much."

"Don't hand me that." He captured her tumid nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and began pinching down on them. "You like it when I hurt you. Am I hurting you now? Am I pinching those little-girl titties hard enough for you yet?"

"Ohhh! Stop it, Frank! Damn it, not so hard!"

"It's turning you on, isn't it?" he demanded.

She nodded. "You know it… oooh… is! I can't help it."

"Yeah," the six-foot-three redhead gloated. "And you can't help turning on to fanny-fucking either, once we get going good. Now roll over on your stomach and spread your cheeks for me like a nice little slut."

"Please don't force me, honey. Not this morning. You know you have to get me drunk and work me up good before I can relax enough to – ouch – enjoy that!"

"Crap," he hissed, and rolled away from her. "No wonder your husband ran off with another cunt. Okay, okay… get on your back and spread 'em. Or is it asking too much to expect a piece of puss off you?"

Marge glanced at the clock. "Couldn't you wait till tonight? The alarm will be going off soon. I'm afraid Kenny will hear us."

Kenny was her nine-year-old son, who was sleeping for the first time on the couch in the living room of Frank Dixon's shoddy, three-room walk-up apartment near the business district of downtown Albuquerque.

"Sonofabitch!" Frank, who was eight years younger than Marge, cursed through gritted teeth. "I knew it wouldn't work, bringing that kid and his dog in here. Why the hell couldn't you have left 'em with your mother?"

She rolled onto her side and snuggled up to the handsome younger man, her thigh resting on his legs and her fingers toying with the patch of coppery hair at the center of his broad chest.

"Darling, don't be that way," she wheedled. "Love me?"

He broke into a grin, "Better believe it, little tits, even if you are old and skinny."

"Don't say that!" she whined. "You know how sensitive I am about the size of my breasts. Besides, I'm only a year older than you," she said, continuing the lie she'd told him when he had picked her up in a cafe a month ago. "And I am not skinny… at least not from the waist down."

"I'll say. It was them long, shapely legs that made me do a double take when I seen you the first time. And that gorgeous rump, the way you was swingin' it, I damn near creamed my jeans. Hell, no, you're not skinny, and I dig them little-girl titties, too, if you want to know the truth. Each one of 'em is a just-right mouthful with nothing goin' to waste. I was only teasing. Don't you know that by now?"

"I guess so," she replied, and kissed his beard-stubbled cheek. "But I wish you wouldn't. I love you with all my heart, and it hurts my feelings when you make fun of the way I'm built. And you know I didn't have any choice about bringing Kenny here. Mother disowned me when she found out I was living with you. I had to get Kenny away from her before she went to court and tried to have me declared an unfit mother. She threatened to. You know she did."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Kenny's my son. He belongs with me. If we're going to live together, our home has to be Kenny's home too. You said you understood."

"Yeah," Frank agreed grudgingly. "But I got a feeling that kid's gonna come between us."

"Oh, darling, no. Be patient. When I find a job, we'll rent a house so Kenny can have his own bedroom. Everything will be fine then. You'll see. We'll be so happy."

"Sure, baby, but in the meantime, how about making your daddy happy this morning?" he said with a grin, and placed her hand on his erected penis.

Marge wrapped her slender, red-nailed white fingers around the standing column of pulsing turgidity and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Slowly she began moving her hand up and down on the slightly upward-curved shaft, popping the rubbery foreskin on and off the blood-engorged crown.

"You go for that hunk of meat, don't you?"

"You know I do," she sighed. Her head was resting on his shoulder now, her hazel eyes watching his dong as her hand stroked it.

"Show me how much you like it."

He put his hand on her head and began pushing it down toward his loins, her disheveled, shoulder-length brunette hair trailing behind, tickling his chest then his stomach. The first time he'd gotten the deserted wife and mother to go down on him, he'd had to get her drunk and slap her a couple of times to make her come around. No longer. Once she'd had a taste of cock, she went for it in a big way. Oh, she still thought it was dirty and degrading, but that only made it more exciting for both of them. No matter what she said, Frank knew she loved it when he fed her the old fuckstick. He had her number, all right. At least he was satisfied in his own mind that he did. Despite her fancy airs and middle-class morals, she was no different from any other cock-hungry cunt, and he'd taken great pleasure in showing her what she was, beginning with the first night they'd met.

Marge knew what he expected of her, and she wanted to do it for him; but as always, her sense of decency held her back. Each time it was the same. She would give in against her better judgment, her conscience telling her what a weak-willed, filthy slut she was for enjoying the perverted oral sex act.

Only this morning it was worse, because her little boy was sleeping just a few feet beyond the closed bedroom door.

"What are you waiting for?" he barked.

"Please, honey, couldn't we postpone this until tonight?"

"For crissake, why?"

"Look at the clock. The alarm is about to go on."

He snatched the clock off the bedside table and jabbed the alarm button to off. "That satisfy you?"

She shook her head. "I just don't feel right about it, Frank, with Kenny in the next room."

"He'll be there, tonight, too, remember?"

"But it'll be dark then, and he'll be asleep," she whined. "He might be awake now. What if he hears us? Or comes in here and sees what we're doing? I'd just die!"

Frank grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her back up beside him. He forced her onto her back and got on top of her, prying her legs apart with his knees. "Now you listen to me and listen good!" he growled. "You're my woman, and I'll hose you any time I feel like it, understand? It wasn't my idea to move your kid in here. I want a piece of tail, and, by God, I'm gonna have it. Right now! If the brat sees us or hears us, tough shit! He's gotta grow up sometime, don't he? Now, that's the way it's gonna be, or you can pack up and get the hell out. You got that, Marge?"

She nodded stiffly. With less than five dollars to her name, where could she go now that her own mother had piously washed her hands of her? She'd never felt so helpless and humiliated in her life. Her lips quivered. Tears welled up in her eyes.