Heather Brown - Kidnapped housewife

Yes, his prick was still up. Harder than ever, it actually seemed to have grown an extra inch. In addition, for the first time I noticed thick blue veins bulging along its shaft. The only thing that kept him from being a man was the lack of hair between his legs.

"Will you fuck me?" I put it to him directly. "My cunt is burning for your cock."

"Right on!" he whooped, and threw his strong young body toward me. The impetus threw me back until I landed against the second bed. There, I fell on my back, wriggled from my clothes, and spread my legs so my cunt was showing.

"Come on and fuck me," I bit the words off with determination to get laid at all costs. "Fuck my big, old pussy with your ten-year-old cock."

Just under five feet tall, he inserted himself between my thighs and aimed his wonderful young prick at the dark slot of my gaping twat. "I might get lost in there," he giggled.

"Don't bet, on it, kiddo," I undauntedly rejoined. I may have been three times his age, but I still had a lot of faith in the essential tightness of my cunt. When it came time to give the little whippersnapper's cock a good squeezing, I'd make him know he was being fucked by a real woman.

"Okay, here goes," he said, and pitched forward. Like a dagger his slim, curving boner slipped between the folds of my snatch, and zipped up my greasy fuck-hole.

I waited until I could feel his pebbly balls burning against my crotch before I did anything rash. At that point, having him thoroughly trapped, I squeezed dawn with my pussy muscles with all my might. My cunt was turned into an erotic vise.

"Now do you think my pussy is loose?" I teased him, while he whimpered with pain.

He was too embarrassed to answer. Instead he did something better he just started fucking me. Even at ten, moving his hips in the classic motions came naturally to him. His technique seemed to add yet another inch to the length of his cock.

Feeling like I was in a sexual duel with his strange of effort, I retaliated by wrapping my legs around his slender waist. When I jerked him toward me, he whimpered with glee.

"Stick your finger up my asshole," he recovered his composure enough to request. "Miss Turner and her friends always do it to me when we fuck in the boiler room at school."

Lowering my hand to the meeting of our loins, I rubbed my fingers under his tight scrotum and then made a wedge up the crack of his ass. When my pinkie rubbed its cuticle against his anal ridges, I immediately poked it inside the adjacent orifice. He shuddered with appreciation.

Now there was nothing else to do but keep fucking and wait for my pre-teen lover to come. As he did the necessary stroking, he sucked my tits, blistering the tender nipples with his boyishly eager tongue.

Finally I could wait no longer. "Do it to me," I begged. "Fill my pussy with your beautiful cum!"

Like a hook, I pulled the crooked finger from his ass. When it popped I hoped I was pulling the plug on his balls.

"I've got cream!" he screamed and he did. My fuck hole was abruptly swamped by the boiling flood from his erupting cock. "Whoopee, I'm shootin' the jizz!"

He was so boyish, I just adored him. He couldn't help but remind me of my own son, Bobby, during some of our better moments.

When he was finally finished coming, I topped off the orgasm we had just shared by taking his head from my tits and giving him a big, wet, motherly kiss. "That was a wonderful fuck, Bobby – er, Chuck," I congratulated him with a revealing confusion of names.

"You're welcome," he said politely, proving he was a basically well-brought-up boy like my own son.

"Are you going to have sex with your sister?" I asked when he'd pull his prick out of my pussy and it was still rock hard.

"She's not my sister," he winced. "Robin's just in my class."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I was just thinking about my own kids."

"Do you have sex with them – when you're not out robbing banks?" he earnestly asked.

"No – never."

"Why not? You seem to like it well enough with us."

"Shhhhh," I said, before I could think of an answer to that one. "I think I hear somebody driving into the parking lot. It could be Chinga with the food. If he finds us like this, he'll go crazy with his gun."

"What should we do?" Miss Turner called from the other bed where she had been busily sixty-nining with ten-year-old Robin.

"Get under the covers and turn out the lights," I improvised. "We'll pretend we got tired waiting and went to sleep."

"What about the hamburgers?" Robin protested. "I'm starved!"

"Be quiet," her teacher said sharply. "Angie is right, we've got no time to lose. Quick, Chuck you get into bed with Angie, Robin with me. I'll turn out the lights."

Mission accomplished, we waited silently in the dark as Chinga entered the motel room. When he saw what had apparently happened, all he did was grumble, "Shit, now what the hell am I supposed to do with all these fucking burgers and fries? Not to mention Angie's fucking catsup." He'd been fooled.

I guess before he finally turned in, Chinga watched a little television and gorged himself on hamburgers. The onion on his breath woke me up when he crawled into bed long after I had gone to sleep with Chuck curled around my backside.

I tell you this because it was only by the chance of this occurrence that I was a witness to what happened next. I still get squirmy thinking about it.

It started innocently enough when Robin snuck out of Miss Turner's bed and whispered, "Mr. Chinga, do you have any of those hamburgers left? I'm sure hungry."

"Well, well," he rumbled gruffly, obviously half-lit on some beer he'd brought back, "look what we've got here. What'll you give me for a hamburger, little girl?"

He'd picked the wrong kid to try and intimidate. "I'll suck your cock for a burger, and swallow the jizz for some fries," she informed him in a business like fashion. "The only catch is that I get the food up front."

"You little runt," he blustered drunkenly. "What makes you think a twerp like you can tell a grown man what to do?"

"Because I've got a ten-year-old mouth to suck your cock with," she matter-of-factly informed him. "And after that, the youngest pussy you've ever fucked if you play your cards right. Just reach in the sack and get me the burger and fries, and get your prick ready while I'm eating."

I could feel Chinga straining over the side of the bed, then I heard a paper bag rustling. He handed the child her greasy fee.

She unwrapped the sandwich and started eating. "Mmmmm, a cheeseburger," she mumbled between bites. Then, turning her attention toward the potatoes, she asked: "Where's the catsup for the fries?"

"In the sack. I brought back a ton of it for Angie."

As children always do, Robin smeared the catsup all over the container of french fries, making an unholy mess. Then, as she picked up each potato and stuck it in her mouth, she noisily sucked off the gloppy coating of catsup. Had my eyes been closed, I'd have sworn she was already sucking a cock.

It apparently reminded Chinga of the same. And since his would have been the prick receiving her oral attention, he understandably became hot and bothered. Pretending to be asleep, with one eye opened I watched him pull back the covers and reveal his cock standing almost a foot in the air. He was sweating so hard that the T-shirt, which was the only thing he wore to bed, clung to his muscular torso like a second skin.

"My dick's hard for you, little girl," he whispered roughly. "Do you think your little pussy can take my great big cock?"

Even though she had a mouthful of food, she laughed at him. "You're getting ahead of yourself," she said after swallowing. "You've got to fuck me in the mouth before you ever look at my cookie. I need something to wash down this burger and these fries with – and a grownup's fresh cum is just like a milkshake. You just beat your meat while I finish eating and melt the ice cream in your balls."