Ron Taylor - X-rated mother

Connie's pussy was a rippling glove of caressing tissue on Roger's dick. She milked him with her cunt, imploring Roger to abandon himself to release, to flood her cunt with his juices. "Cum now," she whispered. "Cum inside me now!"

She felt his hands grab her tits. It seemed as if a heavy weight lay upon Connie's breasts. She could no longer speak, no longer breathe, no longer do anything but respond. Each time with Roger was better than the one just past, and this time was better than any of the rest. Her cunt could do nothing but jerk in orgasm, and more than anything else she wanted to feel him squirting and foaming inside her. "Please!" she shrilled, the last coherent sound she was able to make.

And then she felt the gut-wrenching, shuddering quiver of his cock inside her. It seemed to twist her internally, to friction a flame into being. But only for a second, because almost at once she felt the first gush of his cream.

Connie's womb opened to receive his seed, but he was full of jism that evening, or so it seemed. No matter how fast her twat sucked up his spunk, more spattered from the end of his rod. His pecker squished in the greasy boiling cum with which he filled her, and plenty of it oozed out as he continued to batter it into her belly. Connie could feel him shooting, she could feel the hot wetness as his stuff seeped from her pussy, but she could not contribute anything further to the session. Response was the only reaction left to her, and she responded.

When his cock jerked from her silt she had one quick glimpse of its reddened thickness. Roger was still semi-hard, despite the shattering force of his ejaculation. Slim, shapely fingers closed upon the wet length of his pecker, guiding it to a pair of lips whose strawberry tint was smeared. Denise kissed away the lingering traces of cum, laying it off with her pink tongue, before she took him into her mouth. Her cheeks pulled inward as she threw on the suction, and Connie's flickering eyes did not miss the passionate jiggle of Roger's balls as the man's rod began to grow afresh in Denise's mouth. Perhaps this had begun as an effort by Denise to screw her way into a movie role. It was something else now. If the girl was still acting, then she was an incomparable actress and deserved the success for which she lusted.

Connie threw her face into Denise's crotch and began to lick away the pearly buds of cuntal ooze that glistened on the reddish-blonde pubic hairs. At the same time she felt Roger's hand invade her own crotch. A finger slicked into her raw, aching vagina, alerting her to the fact that she could easily endure a fresh go-round. She squirmed against his finger as she nibbled Denise's cunt, and she felt his thumb sliding between the sweat-moist cheeks of her ass. Sucking in a breath, Connie spread herself. His thumb prodded her anal opening, flirting with her tight sphincter. In a moment more her rectum was sucking up his inserted thumb. Only a thin wall of internal tissue separated his digits. They diddled her in tandem, and she could feel the tips almost touching inside her. The sensation was incomparable, and she humped eagerly upon his hand.

Up above, Denise was swallowing Roger's re-hardened cock in greedy, Linda Lovelace fashion, moaning as she nursed the penis toward a fresh ejaculation. Part of her whimpering was due to the action of Connie's mouth on her cunt, but Connie was doing her full share of moaning too, with Roger's hand playing a concerto of sex on her intimate flesh. It would be a long, and certainly an interesting night.

"Ring your ass off, you motherfucker!" Stacy Talbot growled angrily, pulling the sheet over her head. It was probably that pervert cocksucker again anyway. Three times she'd gotten out of bed to answer the phone, and each time, after saying "Hello", she'd heard in reply only a moment of breathing. Some freako who got his kicks panting into a phone. Screw him! The phone rang eleven times and she cursed at it with each jingle. It stopped. Stacy sighed in relief. Rrrriiinnnggg! Six more fucking times, and at last it stopped. This time there was no replay.

The only trouble was, she couldn't get back to sleep.

It had been a delicious night with Ellen, making love over and over till they fell into a dreamy, sexy sleep, but by that time it was after four and Ellen had a nine-o'clock call in the morning. Stacy saw her friend off, then went home to catch up on her rest.

The apartment was empty when she arrived. Mom apparently hadn't gotten home yet. Well, that was only to be expected. The last time Stacy had seen her mother she was with Roger, and when those two got it on – she didn't expect Connie before evening, if at all. Why in the fuck her mother didn't let Roger move into the apartment Stacy couldn't begin to guess. She balled the guy, and she loved it. Why didn't she just shack with him? Didn't she know that this was 1976? It was okay to live together.

Like she and Ellen were going to do, Stacy mused. She hoped Connie wouldn't be too hurt. They'd still see each other, of course. They were too tight to break up. But Ellen was somebody special, and Stacy could love her without having to share the privilege. It was the perfect situation. Connie could make it with Roger, and Stacy with Ellen.

She threw off the covers and lay glowing naked atop the bed. End of the week they'd move in together, but not in that scungy building near the Village. It was a bad neighborhood, even for. New York, and with two ladies sharing they'd need more room anyway. Tomorrow she'd check out the places advertised in the Times.

Oh, that fucking telephone had mined any sleep she might be getting. The sun filtered through her window and cast arrows of light across the room, and even when she tried closing her eyes Stacy just didn't feel like dozing any longer. It was almost noon anyway. Time for a new day to begin.

Not bothering to dress, she went into the kitchen and put Mr. Coffee on to brew. While her coffee prepared itself she set half a dozen strips of bacon frying in a skillet. The pleasant smell of food and coffee filled the room and Stacy heard her stomach growl happily in reply. A sizzle from the bacon just missed burning her tit and she stroked it protectively. She hated to wear clothes, indoors or outdoors, but there were occupational hazards to nudity all the same.

Stacy was just finishing her noon breakfast when she heard the front door open, and she went running to greet her mother. Stacy's head was full of the revelation she had to make, and she hoped Connie wouldn't be too hurt to know that her daughter was planning to leave the nest.

"Missed you," she said happily, swishing through the beaded curtain which doored the way between kitchen and living room, and then she stopped short. The person who had just come into the apartment wasn't her mother at all.

As Stacy stared at her brother Gerry she nearly forgot that she was naked, and by the time she remembered her mind told her it was too late to cover herself, and hypocritical besides. So she stood easily in the doorway. "So," she said. "It's you."

He was scarlet, his head angled away from her. "Jesus, Stace," he muttered. There was accusation in his voice, as if it were his sister's fault he had entered the place without notice and caught her naked. Fuck him! she thought angrily. Connie still hadn't gotten over the cruelty of her son's parting words to her and Stacy could not forgive Gerry for the state in which she'd found her mother that day.

She stepped into the room, bare and unashamed. She had a good body. God had made it naked, and who was Stacy Talbot to flout divine authority? "What are you doing here?" she snapped. "I thought you made it pretty damned clear what you…" Still not looking at her, he broke in, "I didn't know anyone was here. I called, and the phone just rang and rang. Look, all I dropped by for was to pick up some things I left in my room last fall. A couple of books, some clothes, a few personal items. Jesus Christ, Stace, would you put something on? This is embarrassing!"