Kathy Andrews: Loving mom_s lips

Then he had no more time for any more thoughts. His mother's pussy was burning his cock, sliding up and down on his prick frantically. The orgasms rumbling through her caused her cunt to grip and suck at his prick, and his balls became very tight.

Again he became confused. He was about to come, and the question of coming into his mother's cunt flared brightly inside his mind.

But it was as it her pussy made his mind up for him.

He yelped, come juice spewing from his prick before he could decide.

Although she was coming in fiery waves of

ecstasy, Karen knew when her son came. She felt his cock swell and felt the increase of his cock's throbs. She jerked her cunt up against him, drawing his cocks deeply into her cunt. She yelled something that failed to penetrate his ecstasy, her cunt grinding at the base of his prick.

Karen, feeling her son's cock juice gushing into her cunt, screamed as her orgasms became more intense, and she thought her bones would shatter with the tight ecstasy. Her cunt seemed to be sucking the come juice from his cock, drawing his jism up from his tight balls.

Although her climax lasted only seconds, it seemed to go on for hours.

Slowly, Karen lowered her naked ass to the bed, releasing her grip behind her knees. She slipped her thighs down his sides, brushing them over his hips and then squeezed him between the exciting smoothness, eventually parting them to let him withdraw.

She sprawled on the bed, her legs wide, her cunt still twitching, and looked at her son from slitted eyes. He stood at the side of the bed, looking down at her, his cock glistening from the mixed juices of his come juice and her cunt.

They looked at one another for a long time, neither speaking.

Then Brett turned, pulling up his pants and leaving her in the room alone.

Karen threw an arm over her eyes and began to sob with humiliation and horror at what she had done. But it had not really been her, she told herself. It had been that beast pacing inside her body, the beast that demanded, devoured and made her believe she was going out of her mind.

She had allowed it to take control of her, absolute control. Never would she have fucked her son, she told herself. It was the beast, that fiery, gnawing animal inside her cunt. It made her feel better to blame her actions on some intangible something, that could not be seen, but certainly could be felt inside her.

One thing that helped her place the blame on something other than herself was that she knew she would not have fucked her ex-husband that way. She would- never have pulled her knees up and spread them, exposing her cunt so lewdly. If her fuck partner had been her husband, she would have simply opened her legs and let him shove his cock into her. She might have wiggled and thrust with him, but nothing more than that. She would not have exposed her so lewdly, so wantonly.

Therefore, it had not been her but the beast. Feeling better, she got off the bed and

removed her clothing, then walked into the bathroom and started the shower going, adjusting the heat and spray. She scrubbed her slender body, enjoying the water cascading down onto her.

Then she began to hum and sing softly.

She had not felt this good in ages, she thought. Her creamy, unblemished flesh glowed, tingled with a delightful sensation. She sang and hummed and washed her body, finally getting out, still humming happily.

Wearing a lovely sundress, her feet in low heeled sandals, she started from the bedroom. At the door she paused and frowned. She didn't have a bra on, nor panties. She started to turn back into the room, then a giggle burst from her.

"Fuck it," she whispered.

And she giggled again.

"That's right, fuck it!"

Singing softly, she went to the kitchen and prepared a cup of instant coffee. Karen hated instant coffee, but she didn't want to brew up a full pot and waste it. Brett, she noticed, had left the house.

She felt a mild sense of depression, but it lifted quickly. Sitting in the living room, on the couch where she had seen her son fucking Sally, she drank her coffee and spoke aloud to

herself.

"You damned old beast," she said to her stomach. "I'll show you. I'll have fun, too. You're not going to control me, damn you."

She was sure her cunt quivered.

She thought she could still feel her son's cock inside her cunt, deeply. She felt as if the lips were still stretched about his prick, and, too, she felt his prick throbbing in her. Karen wiggled her ass into the cushion, a smile on her face.

The beast, she realized, was not inside her stomach at all, but there between her long legs. The beast was her cunt. That insatiable, tormenting beast was her pussy. It was her cunt demanding satisfaction, demanding a hard cock, demanding a fuck.

But knowing this didn't help Karen at all. Her happy mood changed and she felt ashamed of herself. Brett would never love her again, never want to see her again, never want to touch her. He wouldn't want to be seen in public with her.

She didn't blame him.

She had acted shamelessly with him. She had exposed her cunt and begged him to fuck her. He was probably with his friends laughing about it now, laughing at her, his own mother. Or with Sally, telling the exquisitely cute girl

all those dirty details. Tears caine into Karen's eyes as the impact of her wanton behavior grew inside her.

She cupped her face and cried.

In her mind, she berated herself, degrading herself in a mental way. She called herself all those wicked names she heard applied to easy girls, girls who would fuck anyone, anytime, anyplace. But none of it helped. Her beast, her cunt, continued to throb hungrily.

She had another cup of instant coffee drinking half of it and pouring the rest down the drain. She walked through the house wringing her hands, still mentally cursing herself, cursing her insatiable private beast… her cunt.

When it grew dark, she was still alone. That reinforced her thought that Brett couldn't stand the sight of her anymore. When he had not come home by nine that evening, she went to her room and prepared for bed. Usually, Karen wore a nightgown, but this night she slipped between the cool, clean sheets naked. She lay there on her back, staring up at the darkened ceiling her thoughts whirling accusingly, and her cunt still demanding.

She couldn't sleep.

The lighted dial on her bedside clock was inching close to eleven, and still Brett had not

come home. She was getting concerned. He seldom stayed out after ten, even on weekends. But he had his girl friend now, and from what Karen had seen, Sally could help him occupy his time very well.

She imagined them fucking now, fucking someplace in the shadows, or maybe they were even out there in the garage, using the car for all she knew. The image caused her torment to become greater, and she felt a tinge of jealousy that was unexpected. A lurching, burning sensation came to her cunt, and she squeezed her thighs tightly. The pressure she caused upon those puffy lips and her clit caused a small and very quick orgasm to explode there.

"Oh!" she moaned softly as she came.

Balling her hands into fists, she beat softly upon the mattress, trying to drive the heat from her cunt, the demands out of her mind. But the images of her son's cock fucking into Sally's young cunt would not go away.

"Damn, damn, damn!" she muttered.

Tossing the sheet off, she climbed from the bed and walked through the darkened house and opened the door in the kitchen leading to the garage. She listened carefully, but there were no sounds at all.

They weren't there, and, with a feeling of relief, Karen returned to bed.

He had to be someplace, and he had to be with Sally. Maybe they were at her house. Before she stopped herself, she started to reach for the phone, but then she remembered she didn't know the number or even Sally's last name.