Paul Gable - Mom in a harness

"Ohhhhhh, tie it tighter! Oh, yes, more, more!"

The lithe blonde widow tossed her head frantically on the crushed pillow behind her, her legs kicking out, while the big, black haired stud kept his head buried in her cunt muff. The sounds of her frantic wails mixed with the slurping of his tongue and lips while his hands gripped the woman just above her knees. Ropes had been tied to her wrists, the hemp chafing the woman's flesh as she pulled her arms and drew the rope taut.

"Ohhhhh, Gods tight… oh, please, please, do into me! Oh, please…"

Monica LeFevre whipped her naked, shivering legs against the bed, drawing them closely together to rub the insides of her thighs against the big man's head. It was wonderful, the most beautiful thing she had ever felt before is her life! Those thrilling sensations of his tongue scouring her pussy were increased by the pulling pressure of those ropes around her hands. Rubbing her ankles against the wrinkled sheets, Monica shook the long blonde hair from her eyes and peered heavy-lidded at the handsome stud servicing her pulsing cunt.

"Oh, please… please, don't tease me anymore. I can't take it," she panted, dropping her head back to the crushed pillow and letting out a soulful moan.

"Sure you can take it, Monica. You want more, more of the teasing, more of this shit!"

"Oh, please, Jack… oh, God, do it, do it to me!" the woman cried frantically, arching her back, wallowing her shoulder blades against the creaking bed, and drawing her knees up against Jack's head. The headboard rattled against the wall, leaving small hairline cracks in the blue plaster.

Just outside the bedroom door stood someone, someone who shouldn't have been there, someone who had tip-toed into the house and was now watching the man and woman. "Ohhhhh, Mother!"

Arlette LeFevre stood there, leaning heavily against the molding, her body damp with perspiration as she watched her mother twisting and turning on the bed. It was hideous, the most awful thing she had ever seen in her life!

Arlette had told her mother that she was going to the school football game tonight. She was going to be home no later than midnight. Everything seemed normal as before – well, as normal as things could have been after her father's desertion four years ago. The perky blonde teenager had come back home after having lost her wallet. Those strange sounds in her mother's bedroom had attracted her attention after she had trotted into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. Now she stood there by the partially opened door, the glass trembling in her hand, milk spilling onto her gripping fingers as she watched her mother and that man go crazy together on the bed.

"Oh, please, more, more! Ohhhhh, it's so good when you eat me out! Ohhhh…" Arlette blushed a deep red, closing her eyes and feeling a wave of nausea sweep over her as she watched her mother arching her back once more, hunching her spit-slicked cunt up to that stranger! Who was he? Naked, hairy, thickmuscled, he was hovering over her mother, holding her down to the squeaking bed while he had his mouth on her… on her thing! "Ohhhhh…" the girl moaned. Absolutely nothing had prepared the trembling girl for something like this. Her mother, she knew, was terribly lonely. There had been talk about her going out on dates or something. But nothing ever seemed to materialize. In a way, Arlette was glad her mother was always at home, always dependable. She was a rock, something the teenager could count on in her life! But now she saw the cock cracked, shattered as her mother twisted and jerked and writhed on the bed. Tied roped like that, her mother's arms were stretched high over her head, the backs of her fingers pressing against the headboard, while her thighs gripped that young stud's head.

"Oooooooh! Oh, yes, oh, yes!" Monica gasped, her face streaked with perspiration, her eyes closed while a pulse leaped in her throat. "Yes, when you touch me… touch me there… oh, God, I think I'm gonna die! Oh, yes, yesssss!"

Arlette dropped the glass of milk, shrinking, thinking the couple in there would hear the dull thud of the glass against the hall carpeting. But it would have taken a bomb to have aroused them. They were too intent on one another, too much involved in this sick little game to overhear something like the fallen milk glass.

"My God!" she whispered.

Arlette drew one hand up to her chest, fanning out her fingers and pressing them against her throat as she watched her mother grow hotter and more involved in this horror. Monica was like a writhing fish, her body snaking over the bed, her arms taut, the muscles and tendons pressing out against her flesh while the big, handsome stranger licked and slurping his way up and down the woman's cunt crack. That smacking sound! It made Arlette's flesh crawl with something she couldn't quite understand. Her knees were trembling, threatening to give way as she watched her mother go wild on the bed.

"Uuuuuuhhhh!" the woman growled. With one kick, Monica knocked off the covers completely, straining her head back, the cords bulging at her neck, her eyes glazed over and rolled back into her head. There were strange, strangled sounds coming from her mouth as her chest rose and fell mightily. The big stud was still between her shivering thighs, still slurping his tongue up and down, still holding her spread open with his big, paw-like hands. Arlette thought she would faint watching his black-haired head bobbing up and down, listening to that awful sound of his wet mouth against her mother's cunt.

"Fuck me… oh, God, fuck me good… ohhhhh, my God, fill me up! Oh, yes, yes, I want to feel your cock in my cunt!"

Arlette could have died! Her mother, her own mother talking like that to a stranger! It was enough to make her sink through the floor in horror. Yes, it was her mother, but not the woman she knew. Pressing her fingers harder against her chest, Arlette realized she was having difficulty breathing. Her heart raced so hard that she thought it would burst! Now she couldn't tear her eyes off the couple, watching them writhe together, watching that man called Jack eating out her mother, his hands roaming freely over her thighs. And all the time, her mother was begging him to fuck her, to do all sorts of things to her as she lay there, her arms roped to the clattering dark wooden headboard.

"Okay, you wanna get roped, wanna really get fucked, huh? Okay, baby, you're gonna get it all!"

Arlette gasped as Jack pulled his head from between her mother's thighs. She saw his blood-heavy prick swing as he crouched there on all fours, staring at the wet blonde curls in front of him. He was so… so big! And that cockhead, that double-lobed mushroom shaped crown was so purple. It looked so hot! Arlette shivered, hugging herself now with both hands, feeling strange, itchy spasms start to gather around her pussy. Of course, she had seen pictures of men like that. In all those dum sex education books, Arlette had studied how guys were built, measuring the supposed average six inches of prick from her pussy up to her belly, and wondering how something that big could crawl all the way up a girl's cunt without hurting her.

But this… this thing Jack had was huge, much bigger, Arlette thought, than anything she had seen in the books! And those balls! They were like coconuts – hanging low, swaying with every move he made.

"It's gonna be real good, real good to have you tied up while I fuck the shit outta you. That's what you want, right? You want the shit fucked outta you, right? You wanna feel my prick squeezin' up there, pushin' up past your clit right into your guts, right?"

The words came out in a hiss as the big stud teased his fingers up and down the insides of Monica's thighs. The woman was frantic, beyond rationality as she twisted helplessly before him. Yes, she wanted that, wanted anything that would ease the aching, itching, pulsing lust that burned her cunt right now! Oh, for his prick, for that cock pushing into her hot little fuckhole. It had been so long, too long since Monica had slept with a man. Now she wanted it bad!