J. Russell - Mother_s ass

'I'm going to come pretty fast this way, baby," Barry told her. "Seeing that little strip of hot net across an ass like yours is enough to light a short fuse!"

"I don't care!" she panted. "I'll love every second of it!" She was surprised at having discovered she wasn't up-tight about reaching an orgasm. Because I've had so many the last three days, she thought. I wouldn't fight it, but I can wait till next time.

Barry's hips jerked upward, his balls mounding against the sober gray of his trousers, and Helen felt herself driven higher, the base of his cock hard against her pussy. She shook while Barry pumped his jism into her twat and continued to twitch after he had squeezed out the last of his cum and fallen back. When there was no stiffness left in the cock that impaled her holes she pushed herself off. She faced Barry, bending over him and kissing him on the mouth. Then she straightened.

"Thank you, darling," she said. "It feels so good to have you screw me."

He sighed. "You're a good lay, Helen. I wish we'd started swapping sooner."

She tensed. "Swapping! Barry, only nasty-minded sex fiends swap! We're not doing that!"

"Whatever, I still wish we'd started sooner."

"Okay. So do I." She wrinkled her nose at him. "We didn't, though. That means we've got to catch up."

"Oh, shit!" he groaned. "One crack like that and I'm in just as bad a shape as I was before you made me screw you! Helen, you're not even the same broad I used to know!"

"No." She dropped her glance to her toes. "No, I'm not, Barry. But that's a long story."

"Tell you what," he said. "I'm going' to remember that. One of these nights we'll make it as far as a bed. And when we're screwed out, we can lie there next to each other while you tell me the whole thing. Time you finish, we'll be rested enough to make it again."

"Oh, you!" she laughed, feeling herself flush. "Van? Do we have time to get lunch?"

Vanessa, cuddled on Art's lap, her lips at his ear, stirred and looked around. "Hmm? Lunch? Not now. Barry's appointment is in a half-hour." She glanced at her husband. "For heaven's sake, Barry! Get your peter in!" And then, "Oh, no! You've got to go home and change! You've got pussy tracks all over you!"

Helen's face burned and she avoided Vanessa's eyes. Barry grumbled and tucked his cock inside his trousers.

"It isn't all that goddamn bad, woman," he growled.

"It's bad enough you've got to change your pants!"

"Okay, okay. I didn't say I wasn't going to. Only we'll have to get a move on. You ready to wind up whatever you've got going with Art?"

"And what would that be?" Vanessa bristled.

"How the hell would I know? Maybe you're trying to work him for a pair of those fuck-pants!"

"Barry Rush!" His wife blazed at him. "You go ahead. I'll get Art and Helen to bring me home."

"Suit yourself." Barry heaved himself to his feet and zipped his fly. He paused on his way to the door to kiss Helen, then he was gone.

Vanessa gazed at the closed door. "My God," she muttered. "How touchy can a guy get!" "Maybe he was hungry," suggested Art.

"Of course he was. Hungry for pussy when he saw all that flesh! Well, he got it, didn't he?"

Helen resented Vanessa's implications. "It seems to me you dragged me in here like this," she said. "I was looking for something to cover me up."

"A hostess apron?!" Vanessa snorted. "What's the difference? I mean, after all!" "You still dragged me in."

"Damn it! Once I saw you like that, I couldn't do anything else! It's a sort of thing between Barry and me. Like an unwritten agreement. But I wouldn't have had to if you'd had any clothes on."

"Van! For Christ's sake! I dress for what's happening when I'm at home, not for whether someone might drop in!"

"I called first.''

Art nodded. "They did phone first," he said. "Fact is, I've got to agree it's going pretty far to shack up with another guy on his lunch break. I mean, it's like the difference between liking to eat and being compulsive about it. I don't know that we want to let this thing between us go quite that far."

Helen stared at her husband, aghast. He didn't want me the way I was, she thought. Now he doesn't want me this way, either! A tendril of panic snaked through her. What'll I do! It's too late to go back! It was bad enough to have to live with what I did with that Indian guide. I couldn't stand to have all the things I've done these three days hiding in the back of my mind! Besides, I like sex too much. If I have to choose, I'd rather be what I am now! Oh, what'll I do?

Vanessa sighed and got up. "Look. Maybe we're all hungry. We're getting all up-tight without any good reason. We're mature enough to be honest about what we feel like doing. If one of us is a little hotter, what's the difference? Maybe I don't yank off my clothes every time I get hot for Art, but there might be a time when I would. I'm not going to set myself up to judge you for going overboard, Helen."

Helen cleaned up after lunch. She'd sensed a current that flowed between Art and Vanessa and suggested he take Vanessa home. She knew he'd understood – and that he wouldn't hurry back. And she found herself spending more time thinking than working. The two strokes of the grandmother clock in the dining room nearly failed to register with her. She felt them rather than hearing them, and they were nothing but an echo in her mind when she realized they meant something.

"Omigod!" she exclaimed aloud to herself. Danny! He gets out of school at two! And he'll probably run all the way home! He's not going to catch me dressed this way?

She dropped the plate she was holding. Ignoring the crash it made when it shattered on the floor, she sprinted towards the master bedroom.

"I did promise about the bath," she muttered. I did promise about that. And he'll insist on watching me undress. Well, I'm not going to be wearing these! Not for him again! She whipped, off the controversial bra and panties and put on more conventional replacements. What dress? What dress? She searched through her closet, then stopped abruptly. Helen! You stupid bitch! Why not a dressing gown? What would be more natural, knowing I'm going to be taking a bath?

She stripped again and shrugged into her everyday dressing gown, wondering why she hadn't heard her son yet. She worried in spite of herself, and she'd gone to both outside doors before she recalled Danny would assume his father was there. "And he'll figure I'm not going to take a bath in front of him when Art's home," she added aloud.

As she closed the back door, she heard Danny come in through the front.

After a moment of silence, he called out. "Hey! Anyone home? Where is everybody?"

She smiled, "Here I am, Danny."

"Oh. Okay."

She went through the kitchen to the dining room and saw her son disappearing into his room. He reappeared at once.

"Had to get rid of my books," he said. "Hey, where's Dad?"

"He went out. He'll be back for supper."

"Oh. Good! Hey, Mom, any apples? I'll eat one while I'm watching you take your bath." He paused and a question showed in his expression. "You didn't take it yet, did you? You promised, Mom t "

She shook her head. "No. No, I haven't taken it yet."

Great! Bitchin', Mom! Hey, I got an idea. I'll eat that apple later. I'll take a bath with you, Mom. Won't that be something else!"

He seized her and crushed her to him, twisting her so her boobs rubbed on his chest. His hand slid through the overlap in the front of her gown and pressed between her thighs to bury itself among the folds of her pussy. She squirmed, warmth rising through her and a surge of excitement momentarily making her giddy.

"Oh, Danny!" she whispered. "Please!"

"Oh, okay." He withdrew his hand after letting one fingertip dart into her cunt for an instant. "Okay, I guess. Come on. We've got a lot of time."