Unknown - Mom_s hot lips

Roger reached out and took her hand, pulling her onto the bed with him. She tried to remain erect but went over on her face, and her tits burrowed into the giving softness and were massaged by the moving water inside the bed.

"Man, this is something else, isn't it, Mom? Feel the way it cups your butt and everything all over? Feel the way it tosses you around and makes you fuck the whole damn world! Ya-ha!" he cried, bouncing wildly, making her toss helplessly.

"Roger, stop!" she laughed.

"Hey, pretty lady-look at you there!" he grinned, gazing at her with that hungry look again. "'Mmmm, just look at the way your tits shake and your pussy moves up and down. Mom-we gotta! God, come here, you beautiful wench, and let us sport together on the sportiest bed I've ever seen!"

He came towards her, reaching out. Vera giggled and swooped high with his movements, everything tipsy and jiggling and heaving. Her butt sank into the form-fitting water, and her tits bobbed on her chest.

Her whole body was twisted and shoved and massaged into odd, erotic positions. She couldn't get away from him if she'd wanted to. There was no stability. But she saw the rod like erection trying to rip through his briefs, and she didn't want to go.

"Ohhhh, darling-I feel so wanton!" she cried softly.

"Me, too, Mom. I'm wantin' you;" he punned. He roiled onto his back, his legs wavering in all directions, and stripped his briefs from his butt, pushing them off his feet and tossing them recklessly aside.

He reached for her body again, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close, pinning her down. If you could call it being pinned down.

The bed heaved under her back. Her head didn't move the way it should have. Her butt and hips were uncontrollable. She felt like the rubber lady in the circus, totally boneless.

She could do little more than laugh gleefully as she was tossed around. and felt her wet panties being rolled over her hips. She did her best to lift her ass from the bed so that he could get them over her hips.

Her tits rolled and jiggled on her chest in constant motion, and her pelvis rocked up and down as if she were fucking an imaginary prick stabbing at her from above the bed.

"Honey, stop the jigging!" she laughed. "I'm getting seasick!"

"We just started the jiggling, baby," he said huskily. "Mmmm, I love your pussy, Mom." He gazed at her cunt and ran his hand over her bush, between her thighs.

His finger parted her bloated pussylips and slipped up and down the satiny gash. She heard the sound. Her cunt was wet already.

"Juicy wench," Roger grinned at her, making his finger suck and smack at the mouth of her pussy. "A guy would think he was your first prick in ten years-that you'd been saving up all that juice for at least that long."

"Honey, I can't help it," she said, turning her head to the side with embarrassment.

She let him finger her cunt. She let the juices flow. He 'was just about right. She had been saving it up. Longer than ten years. God, how mistaken she'd been in thinking that Paul had satisfied bet Paul had only kept her from climbing the walls with hunger.

And yet, with ill the criticisms and complaints and the way she could dig up old thinp that had been wrong, she'd loved him dearly. If he'd died a year ago, when she was still a part of him, before this strange motel had even been thought of, she would have been lost without him.

But the past year had insulated her from the bulk of the shock his death had brought. She was sad he was gone. She would miss him. But, in a sense, she had outgrown him. Grown away from him, at least headed a different direction.

She moaned and turned her bobbing head to the side and opened her slippery, flowing pussy to him, letting all the pent-up desires and needs loose.

Age had had its turn with her. It was time that youth did, too, while she was still young enough to respond to its passions.

Roger leaned over her box. She could feel his warm breath on her pussy. She lifted up with a shudder, eager for him to suck her twat again.

The bed went wild. His nose mashed against her cunt mound and thighs. He had difficulty keeping his face to her snatch, and the more she bucked involuntarily, the harder it became.

"I can't hold your cunt still, Mom," he said. "You're just too wild for it. You're going to have to settle for a stiff prick instead, whether you like it or not"

He was grinning as he came up her body and lay tit between his lips. She laughed and smiled back. "I think I can stand it. Oh, Roger," she whispered, her voice suddenly thick with passion. "Fuck me, darling. Fuck it into me long and hard!"

He let out a sound, half-gasp, half-whimper. He climbed over her body. The bed heaved and rocked. She opened her thighs as wide as they would go, lifting her knees to cradle his body.

His stiff prick poked and jabbed and nudged into the wrong places as he sought her watering, warm hole. It was exciting, incredibly erotic.

"No, you're… up higher, honey. Ow, ow, oh! Ahhh… there, darling, there! Yes! Push! Fuck… ohhhhh, fuck me, fuck me!" "Jesus, Mom! Jesus!"

"Ohhhhhh, so deep, darling! So stiff and big! God, I'm swallowing your prick all the way! Roger… Roger! The bed's fucking us! Ohhhh, feel how it shoves my pussy up around your cock! God, it's like a big, gentle hand all over my ass, cupping, squeezing… Oh, Roger, I'm so hot-so hot, darling!"

She flung her arms around his neck. She clung to him. The world went on a crazy, heaving ride. It was in constant motion. He fucked into her, and the bed made her pussy lift and open and fuck him back.

Her tits spiked stiffly at the ends and punched against his chest. Her head bobbed up and down with the motions of the bed, and she felt as if she had absolutely no control over anything, that the marvelous sensations were buffeting and tossing her toward orgasm again. tit between his lips. She laughed and smiled back. "I think I can stand it. Oh, Roger," she whispered, her voice suddenly thick with passion. "Fuck me, darling. Fuck it into me long and hard!"

He let out a sound, half-gasp, half-whimper. He climbed over her body. The bed heaved and rocked. She opened her thighs as wide as they would go, lifting her knees to cradle his body.

His stiff prick poked and jabbed and nudged into the wrong places as he sought her watering, warm hole. It was exciting, incredibly erotic.

"No, you're… up higher, honey. Ow, ow, oh! Ahhh… there, darling, there! Yes! Push! Fuck… ohhhhh, fuck me, fuck me!" "Jesus, Mom! Jesus!"

"Ohhhhhh, so deep, darling! So stiff and big! God, I'm swallowing your prick all the way! Roger… Roger! The bed's fucking us! Ohhhh, feel how it shoves my pussy up around your cock! God, it's like a big, gentle hand all over my ass, cupping, squeezing… Oh, Roger, I'm so hot-so hot, darling!"

She flung her arms around his neck. She clung to him. The world went on a crazy, heaving ride. It was in constant motion. He fucked into her, and the bed made her pussy lift and open and fuck him back.

Her tits spiked stiffly at the ends and punched against his chest. Her head bobbed up and down with the motions of the bed, and she felt as if she had absolutely no control over anything, that the marvelous sensations were buffeting and tossing her toward orgasm again.

She gasped and opened her eyes. The TV sat at the foot of the heaving bed bobbed and weaved in her vision. She looked at it, and a corner of her mind wondered about it.

Why was it there? Why was it suspended from the ceiling, pointed towards the bed that heaved and bobbed and made fucking a whole new experience? Why had Paul done a thing like that?

Why had Paul put waterbeds in the rooms? Fucking beds…

Paul hadn't. It was clear he hadn't. It simply wasn't him.