J. Russell - Mother_s ass

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He loosened his grip and she put her lips to the nose of his cock. She sucked at it for a time and then forced her mouth over the entire head, biting gently on the foreskin and pushing it back onto his shaft. She played her tongue over his slit and listened to his breath hiss. To her delighted surprise, the sense of guilt that had nagged her for the past twenty-four hours evaporated. In its place, she felt a glow of pleasure in the knowledge she was giving him pleasure. And that's not just cock hunger! she thought. I'm dying to get this beautiful cock into my pussy, but that's a different feeling.

The appearance of tension in Art's belly grew more pronounced. His flesh twitched and he twisted his hips slowly. At last he caught her under the armpits and raised her to her feet. "Come on, baby. Time we tried out these fancy-pants." He glanced at her nipples, out-thrust by the upward force of her bra's half-cups, and his eyes gleamed. "And that titty-vendor," he added with a grin.

He took her to the dining room, where he pulled one of the straight chairs away from the wall. Seating himself on the edge, he drew her towards him. She straddled his lap, her twat hovering above his cock, and he straightened the rigid tool with its head nuzzling her crotch. She pulled the slit of her panties open and squatted, breathing deeply as she felt the knob of his cockhead settle into her gash.

"Mmm! Mmm!" she exclaimed. "I'm so hot for you, honey! God, this feels good!"

Her cunt stretched to engulf Art's cockhead and she let herself slip down the erect shaft. She lifted her feet, hooking her insteps over her husband's thighs, and rocked on his cock. He balanced her, his hands at her waist, and bent forward to suck at her nipples.

He pulled his mouth away for a moment. "If it's all right, that is," he said.

"If what's all right?" She shook with pleasure and made no sense out of his remark.

"Sucking your tits."

She whispered, "Don't be mean now, honey. Just fuck!"

Amazement flashed in his eyes. "Did you say what I thought you did!"

"Please!" she wailed. "Don't spoil it!"

"Sorry, baby. All the way this time, huh? Nothing barred?"

"Oh God, honey! Do I have to draw a picture?"

"No. Just wiggle that pussy a little harder, okay?" He grabbed her nipple again and began to chew it.

She levered her hips, grinding her pussy on the base of his cock and feeling the head thrust back and forth in her belly. Her hands fluttered. She caught Art's face between them and fingered his temples, rocking her head back and gazing at the ceiling.

"Honey! Ohhh, honey!" she exclaimed. Shudders of pleasure racked her body. "Whew! Whew! Mmmm, yesss!"

Art let go of her tit and grunted. "Hey, baby! I'm about to get it off! You think you can come?"

"Try me!" She forced the words past clenched teeth. "Oh, quick, honey!"

He arched, his neck on the chair back and his ass thrusting upward off the seat. She straightened her legs, extending them to the sides, and felt the hardness of his hip joints digging into the flesh of her inner thigh muscles. His fingers squeezed her waist while she clutched fiercely at his wrists.

"Ummmmh! Baby! BABY!" She swayed with the pulse of her lust.

Art uttered an explosive grunt and spewed jism into her horny cunt. She flinched at the violence of her contractions and ground her teeth together. When her orgasm released its grip on her, she fell forward on her husband.

"Darling! Oooh, darling! I love you! I love you so much!"

He stroked her back tenderly and touched her forehead with his lips. "Yeah. I love you, too, sugar. I've got to say, you're some kind of pussy today! What's the story?"

She told him of the childhood she'd kept secret from him. She mentioned the bad feeling between her grandmother and her parents and of her own worship of the hard-bitten old lady. And she described in vivid detail the crucial day in the wilderness area.

"Grandma died when she found out I was pregnant," she said. "There was only one way I could think of to make up for that."

"And that was turning into the sterile kind of bitch she figured a broad ought to be?"

"Yes. I wouldn't say it like that, but yes."

"You're not that icicle today! That's for damn sure!"

"No. Or ever again. I'm the other me."

"How come?" Art grinned and touched her lips with his fingertip. "Let me guess. Dr. Davis, maybe?"

"Ugh! Lecherous psycho! I'm never going there again!" She shuddered. "In a way it was him, though. He made me mad enough to start thinking. And Vanessa was there to think, too."

"Van. Yeah, she's got her feet on the ground."

"And her butt, with her legs spread, if a man looks interested!" Helen gasped, startled by her reaction.

Art pushed her away from his chest and stared at her. "Huh! What brought that on?"

"I saw. Art, I saw the way you took advantage when I was helpless that night. And she'd been waiting a long time! It was in her eyes!"

"Ohhhh!" Art whistled. "Things moved too fast for you!"

"You two moved fast enough! If I'd been able to think, I'd have thought the two of you had set me up so you could get together!"

"You mean that, don't you?"

Helen hesitated. For a moment she was aware of herself as if her consciousness were a third person. She felt the intimacy of her flesh with Art's and the emotional tension between them. And she had a weird sensation of clinging to him in some other dimension with slipping fingers.

"Art!" She heard the edge of panic in her own voice. "Honey, I'm sorry. I don't care about what you do with her. Just save enough for me!"

Chapter 8

Art showered and dressed with no appearance of urgency. Helen slipped facial tissues inside the crotch of her panties and followed her husband, slouching against the cabinet in the bathroom while he was in the shower and perching on a chair with her arms around her knees while he was dressing. He chuckled when she followed him from the bedroom.

"You going to stay like that?" he asked.

"Do you mind? I'm going to take a douche in a minute, but I'm not going to dress."

"Man alive! Go douche, then!" He slapped her butt. "And hurry!"

While she was in the bathroom, she heard the telephone. When she returned to the living room, Art was grinning.

"Hey, guess what, sugar? That was Van on the line."

"Does she want me to call her back?" asked Helen.

Art shook his head, still grinning. "She wanted to tell you she and Barry were going to drop by. Be here in a few minutes."

"A few minutes!" Helen clutched at herself.

"What for?"

Her husband shrugged. "Damned if I know. Just being friendly, near as I could tell." He glanced sideways at her. "Hell, maybe they figured they'd catch you alone and join you for fun and games. They didn't know I was taking the day off."

"Art! What a thing to say!"

He laughed. "I sure can't imagine why else Barry would be coming. Hell, he's got a job, too! You don't make sales sitting around home!"

She giggled. "Depends on what you're selling." And his earlier words came to her. "A few minutes, did you say?" She shrieked. "Honey! It was more than a few minutes ago when they called!"

"Yeah."

"And you let me stand around out here like this! Honestly, Art!"

"Barry's not about to criticize. And Van's understanding. Why not?"

Why not? Why not, for the Today Helen? she thought. Brrr! I wouldn't back away from that cock today! "I think you're mean," she told Art. "But I've got the guts to call your bluff-this time."

"Good."

Before she had gotten to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. She heard voices and recognized Vanessa's. I can't do it! she realized with a sinking feeling. I know I can't! Not like this! She darted into the kitchen. An apron! That's what I need! She jerked open the apron drawer and held up one of her hostess models.

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