Miriam Schwartz - Family affair

She fingered her pussy. She closed her eyes and moaned. She slid a finger inside her cunt. God, that felt good. She was so horny. It seemed crazy for her to be hot like that, when she felt so bad, her spirits so low. Well, she thought, it just went to show how sensuous she was, that she could still be feeling sexy when she should be cold as a fish.

She continued fondling her cunt. She slid two fingers deep inside her pussy and twirled them around and around. She moaned with rising passion. She jerked the fingers in an out several times. She could hear the squashing sound as her fingers moved through her bubbly, flowing cunt juices.

She shivered from head to toe. She raised a leg against the back of the couch even higher, making her cunt open wider. She pressed four fingers inside and jerked them back and forth, in and out of her quivering, drooling pussy hole.

She couldn't think of anything sexual to concentrate on while she masturbated. The man she had been fucking with for a while was the last man she wanted to think about now in a sexual context, even though they had shared some fabulous nights of love together. At least they had seemed fabulous to Esther. She could no longer vouch for whether he had really enjoyed their lovemaking sessions as much as he had said he did at the time. Back then it was all, "Esther, that was the best fuck I ever had. You are sensational in bed. It's a lucky thing I can keep from coming right from the word go, it feels so good inside that hot pussy of yours." Yes, he had said plenty, and it had all made her tingle and feel that she had made a damned good choice for a husband, and she was sure that they were going to be very happy, despite all her fears and jealousies of other younger women.

But all that was just dirt now, something to cry about or laugh about. She didn't know which to do just then. No, she didn't want to think about it at all. She just wanted to obliterate him from her mind completely. She wanted to put herself in a better mood. She wanted to give herself an orgasm. That would maker her feel good, ready to deal with life again, a nice, sizzling climax to straighten her out.

Concentrate, she told herself. Think sexy. She tried to think back to the lovers she had had before she met George. It seemed so long ago already. But she could remember some of them. She could remember one guy. He was a tall guy with sandy hair and a droopy mustache. Like George, he was several years younger than her. She found that at these singles bars where she bad been going since she became single again, the men who were her own age steered clear of her, as if someone from their own generation brought back too many bad memories or something they didn't want to be reminded of, either a bad marriage or perhaps just their advancing years. Or perhaps they were just more impressed by the young chicks who were so readily available to the older man who had an established job and plenty of money to spend on them. But it worked out all right, because there were all these attractive younger men who were intrigued by an older, wiser, more experienced woman, some of whom were like Esther and also had money to spend on their friends and lovers. It had bothered Esther a little, these dubious motivations she found herself assigning to her young boyfriends, but she didn't pay much attention to them. She was trying to have fun and not think of the implications or consequences. And she did get her kicks out of it. She enjoyed the freedom of being single and being able to have sex without guilt, though she was a little self-conscious about the subject in front of her children and was very cautious about bringing anyone home, making sure they left nice and early in the morning. Once her daughter had seen her bring someone home and Esther felt very strange for days after when she would be around Cindy. Generally, she liked to go to the man's home. That was neater and safer: if the man turned out to be some sort of Mr. Goodbar psychopath then at least she wouldn't be risking her children's lives as well as her own. But she never had anything to fear from the men she went with. They were all just fairly boring, very friendly young men out to get their rocks off and meet women in that order of priority. And most of them were pretty good in bed, or so it seemed to the easily pleasable Esther. She never found anybody that couldn't get it up for her, at least, and that was something. Her first husband had had a major problem in that area and this was probably the major factor in her dissatisfaction with the marriage.

She concentrated on that sandy-haired guy with the droopy mustache. She could almost remember what his cock looked like. It was one of the bigger ones she had seen. It was thick and long and felt extra hard inside her pussy when he slid it inside. She remembered being extremely wet and ready for him. She was so hot that night she would have fucked a midget. But she didn't have to settle for any dwarfs. Droopy mustache was a big man in every sense of the word. He had fucked her three, four times that night. Yes, she was remembering it in more detail now. She pushed her fingers though her pussy as she thought back on that night of love. She clutched her thighs tight against her drilling fingers. She moaned. It felt so good. But God, she thought, a real cock would be better. Someone of flesh and blood, warm and tender, who could hold her and squeeze her and make her feel a woman.

She felt a sudden rush of pleasure flow through her body, an unexpected little orgasm. It moved through her, tingling every part of her body. She quivered and moaned.

A man, if only a man was there to share this with her, to elevate this little climax into an earth-shattering one. She twisted and convulsed around her digging fingers.

There was a noise in the hallway that she barely heard, she was so wrapped up in her own emotions. It was the door closing. And then her son, Billy was in the room with her, staring at her, watching her masturbate.

"Billy," she said, watching him through bleary eyes. She gulped, swallowing hard, and smiled at him. "Oh Billy, my son, you're all I have left now… come to me… come over to me and let me hold you in my arms…"

Billy stared at his mother, at her gaping pussy, at her fingers pressed there against her cunt. It was like some dirty fantasy he had had in bed in the dark on many a night. He moved over to her like a somnambulist, stumbling, his mouth hanging open, spittle hanging from the sides.

"Mom," he mumbled as he stepped towards her. He licked his lips. "I didn't know… you were here." His words seemed a million miles away from him as he spoke them.

His mother didn't make any move to cover herself. Her fingers stopped their stabbing motions they had been making in her cunt when he walked in on her, but that was all. Her cunt still hung out lewdly for him to see.

He stared right there, at her open cunt. He wanted his mother, that was undeniable. He wanted her with every bit of desire he had in his young body. He constantly fantasized about lying naked beside her, touching her with hungry desire. He had always felt a guilt about this desire for her, but the desire would not go away, and right now he didn't even feel the guilt any more.

"Come over, darling, sit with me…" He moved to the couch and slowly sat down on the edge. He tried not to look at the cunt, but he couldn't take his eyes off it. She was the most voluptuous, most desirable woman he had ever seen, he was quite sure of that. She smelled of alcohol. She had been drinking heavily. She was probably all broken up about the business with George and Cindy. Billy himself was glad they were gone, and he thought it was for the best in any case, but he understood that his mother would feel pretty bad about it just now. And he was going to comfort her as best he could.

He felt his cock growing hard as he watched her there.