Donna Allen: Gang bang mom

"I want you to think about it," Charlie said.

Brenda Foster looked at Charlie Wilson. He was a nice guy, a decent guy. He had a wonderful job in a local department store and he wanted to marry her.

The trouble was Brenda did not know whether she wanted to marry Charlie.

She did not know whether she wanted to be married at all.

Not again. She'd been divorced nearly ten years, she had a son, and she wasn't certain she wanted to be married again.

In any case she had doubts whether Charlie turned her on enough.

It was nice sometimes. There were times when she really enjoyed it when they fucked, but usually it was boring.

It wasn't Charlie's fault. She certainly couldn't blame him. It wasn't Charlie, it was herself.

She knew what the problem was. She was a realist and she hated deceiving herself about things. The problem was that whenever she and Charlie had sex she found herself thinking about her son Ken.

She thought about Ken in ways a mother shouldn't think about her son. She thought about fucking Ken and sucking Ken and doing all the things with Ken that she did with Charlie.

How could she possibly marry Charlie when she was obsessed with her own son?

Now Charlie said, "You're dreaming, honey. You haven't heard a word I've been saying. You've got a faraway look in your eyes, like you're a million miles away on another star. What's happening?"

Brenda pulled the hair back from her eyes. Some of the men at the other tables in the restaurant were looking at her. Men always looked at her. They looked at her in a special way that said they'd like to fuck her, and she always enjoyed that.

Even Ken looked at her like that. The other day she'd caught him staring down the neckline of her blouse to get a look at her tits.

She smiled at Charlie now. "It's one of those nights, darling. I've got a damn headache again and I think I'd like to get home early."

Charlie was disappointed, she could see it in his eyes. But he was a good sport. He nodded and smiled and said he'd take her home right after dinner.

Brenda felt much better. She was in no mood to cope with Charlie tonight. What she needed was a peaceful evening at home so she could think about her problems. There must be some way out of the bind she was in. She had to think of something. She couldn't just go on having the hots for her own son and let it fuck up her life.

After the dinner was finished, they left the restaurant and climbed into Charlie's car.

Brenda felt sorry for Charlie. Maybe it was mean of her to cut the night short like this.

As Charlie drove the car out of the parking lot, she leaned against him and kissed his cheek. Then she slipped her hand into his lap and searched for the bulge of his cock.

When she found his prick, she squeezed it and said, "You're a honey, Charlie."

She pulled his zipper down and slid her fingers inside his fly to find his cockshaft.

He was already half hard by the time she brought his prick out. The slit in his cockhead was leaking juice and she used her thumb to spread it around.

Charlie did have a nice cock. The knob of his cock was circumcised and because of that his cock always reminded her of Ken's.

She hadn't seen her son's prick since he was just a little kid, not close enough to have a good took at it. But he was circumcised like Charlie and whenever she handled or sucked Charlie's cock she thought of what it would be like to do it to Ken.

When they reached Brenda's house, Charlie wanted to come inside. Brenda talked him out of it. She said she was too tired. She said if he'd like, she would suck him off right there in the car.

"Jesus, Brenda, people live on this street. Suppose someone sees us."

"It's dark, honey. They won't see anything if I have my head in your lap."

She finally convinced him it was all right. By this time she had a strong urge to suck his cock and she was getting annoyed at him for putting her off.

She settled down with her head in his lap and her mouth on his cockhead.

She knew it wouldn't be long. Charlie never lasted too long when she had his cock in her mouth. She didn't mind. What she wanted was a load of thick jism down her throat and the sooner she got it the better.

She loved sucking a cock, any cock. She liked them fat and skinny, long and short. The more jism a man had, the better she liked it. When she sucked a cock, it was almost like she was nursing on it. When a man gave her his load, it was almost like she was taking milk from him.

What she wanted more than anything in the world was to take milk from her son. She wanted her son's cock in her mouth and his balls shooting his jism down her throat.

Would she ever get that from Ken? It seemed impossible, but there was nothing wrong with dreaming about it. Now, as she sucked Charlie's fat prick, she imagined it was Ken's cock and she quivered with excitement.

Before long Charlie groaned and squirmed and warned her he would soon be coming. Sometimes she sucked his cock awhile and then jerked him off into a Kleenex. Tonight she wanted his load down her throat.

Then Charlie gasped and threw his head back and started coming.

Brenda kept her lips fixed around the knob of his cock as his pisshole erupted into her mouth.

She counted four big spurts against her palate. She held his slimy spunk in her mouth until the end, and then, when she finally pulled her mouth off his prick, she swallowed the whole load at once.

She had a small orgasm as the glob of thick jism slid down her throat. She was not surprised by that. It happened often, particularly when she was able to hold the whole load in her mouth before swallowing it.

Now that Charlie had his balls drained, he was in a calmer mood and ready to go home. Thank God, Brenda thought.

Charlie was really sweet, but she wanted an evening at home with Ken tonight.

She kissed Charlie and promised to see him in a few days and hurried out of the car and up the walk to the house.

At the front door she turned and waved goodbye to Charlie. He waved back and pulled the car away from the curb.

Maybe I'm stupid, she thought. Maybe I ought to marry him and stop dreaming about crazy possibilities.

It was awful for a woman to be obsessed with her own son like this.

Opening the front door, she stepped in to the house.

It was quiet. Usually Ken had the TV going downstairs or upstairs in his room. But now it was quiet and she wasn't even sure if he was home.

She closed and locked the door and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

The door to his room was open and she saw he had the light on in there.

Then she looked in and there he was on the bed fast asleep.

There was nothing wrong with a young boy having a nap in the evening. He had no reason to expect Brenda home for hours yet. There was nothing wrong about sleeping.

But it was more than that. He had his pants and shorts down at his ankles and his hand holding his cock.

He was just holding his cock with his fingers. His cock wasn't hard, but Brenda hadn't seen her son's prick in years and she was fascinated.

Then she noticed the wad of Kleenex on the bed and the glistening spots on his thigh and she realized he'd been jerking off.

She moved quietly into the room. There was a magazine on the floor. She bent down and picked it up and muffled a gasp when she saw what it was.

A sex magazine. People fucking and sucking. She turned the pages and realized with a jolt the magazine had a theme. All the pictures involved young men and older women.

Women like herself and young men who looked young enough to be teenagers.

She put the magazine down on a nearby chair and looked at Ken again. She looked at his cock and the way his fingers curled around his cockshaft and she was sorry she hadn't been there to watch him shoot off.