Ray Strong: Orgy cousin

"What's with this sucking urge of yours?" Buddy asked. "There was a time you couldn't stand the idea of putting a cock in your mouth, and now, all of a sudden you're going wild to blow me."

"Call it middle-age mania," Susan replied. "I'm forty now, about to go through the change of life, and I'm not in the mood to have you stick it into me bare, like you always want. So I want to suck? What's so bad about that?"

"Nothin'," Buddy assured her. "But how d'you expect to come, yourself?"

"There are ways," the attractive, five-foot, three-inch woman told him, her bare tits thrusting out invitingly.

"Yeah," her chunky husband nodded, "but we don't have time. I me my when I do something, I like to do it right."

"We have enough time for you to move that mustache of yours through my cunt," she snapped. "The party doesn't begin until ten. It's only nine, right now. We can dress and be on our way all in a matter of ten minutes. In the meantime, let's ball it up a little. I feel horny tonight."

"Come on, Susan," he said. "I have to take a shower, yet."

"So let's do it in the shower."

She pinched the spare tire around his waist, and it annoyed him. She was forty, but had a body any twenty-year-old would still envy. She had boys ranging in age from nineteen to seventeen to fifteen, and many times people thought she was Buddy's daughter rather than his wife. He looked his age, forty-two. But be was a virile, masculine forty-two. Susan looked almost fifteen years younger.

"I'm just not in the mood," he told her, his limp cock dangling four inches down, swinging from side to side with his heavy balls as he walked. "Besides, I want to save it for tonight. I mean, it's our annual Cousin's Club meeting, and it's always a wild meeting."

Susan knew what he meant. It was the one time in the year both broke their marital vows. At least it was the only time in the year she broke them. She didn't know about Buddy. But this was the one time each was fully aware the other was playing around. Both had agreed it would be foolish to remain chaste at a party held each year at Nanette's house. Everyone got drunk, and soon everyone was fucking everyone else.

Still, she was hot, and she needed relief. She needed satisfaction, and Buddy was already locked in the bathroom.

Throwing on an old dress, she decided to check on Simon, her youngest son. He had been working as a waiter at a nearby restaurant, after school, and when he got home, he had supper, did his homework, then went to bed. On Saturdays, he worked at the restaurant all day, which took a lot out of him, so he went to bed at eight-thirty.

Leaving her bedroom, Susan went into the boy's bedroom.

Look at this place, she thought to herself, staring at the erotic photos and drawings he had plastered all over his walls. Like his father he had an overpowering sex drive. On the back of his door was a poster with a male and a female in various sex postures forming the signs of the zodiac.

Looking down at Simon, she decided he was the handsomest of her sons. Even with the long, kinky hair he had inherited from his father, he was uncommonly good-looking.

He was fast asleep, and once he dropped off, nothing short of an earthquake would waken him. He'd had wet dreams and had slept through them, never realizing what had happened until he awoke with the dried, crusty sperm all over him.

He lay there, flat on his back, the covers flung off to one side, and his erection poking through the hole in his pajamas. In the cock department he was nothing like his father, who sported a monstrous prick. Simon's pecker was a mere five inches.

Closing her son's bedroom door, she knelt by the bed, and for a long time stared at the rigid prick bobbing from side to side. It twitched every now and again, as if Simon was having an erotic dream.

Should she? she wondered. She'd often wanted to taste the pricks of her sons; feel the different lengths in her mouth, so she could compare their taste. Stan, her eldest, might have been willing. He was the horniest member of the family, and she'd even caught him fucking his prick into a piece of calf's liver she'd brought home. To teach him a lesson, she'd waited until he'd shot his wad into the liver, then she'd cooked it up and served it to him. To her surprise, he'd relished every bit of it, gobbling it down without a word.

Herb was shy and awkward. He would be too afraid to experiment with his mother. But as far as Susan was concerned she could see no harm. The only problem with incest was in the possibility of her becoming pregnant. But if there was no conception, fucking with her children was no different to her than fucking with any other man.

She touched Simon's cock and watched it quiver, feeling the heat coursing through it. It was the first time in her life she had touched his cock when it was erect. Now she closed her fingers around the hot staff, feeling it pulsate in her firm grip.

How hard it was, much like his father's, only considerably smaller. The white shaft was firm, yet yielding slightly to the pressure of her fingers. The skin seemed almost transparent, showing light-blue veins winding through it. From the angle at which she was looking, she could see the faint pulsing at the bottom of the underside, and when her hand touched it, she could feel the tube inside the tube that carried sperm.

Juice came seeping forth, pouring down the sides of the cylindrical erection, coating her hand. With any other cock she once would have flinched and pulled her hand away, wiping it dry, or perhaps washing it a dozen times. How times change. And this was the cum of her son, who had been a part of her body. How could any part of him be unclean?

Leaning closer, she could almost see pores in the bright red cap.

She leaned down and surrounded the shining glans with her lips, pressing her tongue against the knotty underside. She shut her eyes tightly and sucked, no longer expecting revulsion as she had when Buddy had first taught her to suck cock, years ago. It had taken a long time before she'd learned to like it. Now she loved it, and found herself avidly sucking on the cherry-colored knob, her tongue pressing flatly on the underside, causing more and more of the cum to dribble into her mouth. And when she swallowed; it was like drinking mineral oil: tasteless, yet soothing to her as it slid down her throat.

Constant practice plus natural instinct now made her move her head lower, engulfing more of the throbbing prick. She inhaled the clean, soapy fragrance emanating from his balls. How she loved doing this. She looked forward to tasting semen, thrilling as it entered her throat.

All those years wasted, she thought, her head bobbing up and down in a regular cadence. Her mouth hungered for more cock. But this was only the beginning, the first of many hot, hard, semen-filled cocks on which she would be sucking and riding tonight.

Now the cock felt hotter on her tongue and she moved her head even faster, letting the slithery prick ride as far into her mouth as it could. Her tongue fluttered along the firm length of the burning underside, tasting her son's balls as her head sank all the way down. With the flaming cocktip deep in her mouth, she let her tongue wash across the wrinkled sac of his balls.

Between her own thighs she felt that wetness that she often found when waking in the morning. Only now it was pouring from between her tight cuntlips in dribbling streams, making a soaking mess of her thighs. She had neglected to put her panties on again, and the cuntjuice was oozing out rapidly now, soaking both thighs equally.

Her left hand delved between her loins. Deeper it went, reaching for the flooded split, and finally, after an anxious moment, her fingers began slicing through the cuntlips. The finger rubbed harder and little by little something hard began growing from that sensitive area. It was round, and it extended itself a good half inch away from her body – it was her clitoris.