Unknown - Mom_s hot lips

"Max, I'm coming!" Joyce cried tightly. "Ohhhh, she's sucking me off real good! Fuck her, Max! Make her come when I come! You come, too, darling! Ohhhh!"

Joyce pulled at the back of Vera's head and mashed her open, wet cunt against the tongue and lips and chin fucking her whole box.

Her pussy spasmed and shuddered and sucked at Vera's face, and cunt juice drooled copiously from it. She lipped her head back and Heated and came violently, her bald, puffy cuntlips shaking and fluttering against Vera's face, between her lips, around her tongue.

Vera couldn't stop herself. She wrapped her hands around the firm, ripe ass and buried her face into the oily wetness and gave as good as she had gotten.

Her hips lifted at the same time, and her pussy shuddered around Max's big prick. She felt the shaft plunge deeply into her twat and buck with explosions of sperm.

"God! God!" Max groaned, hosing his load into her cunt.

Vera might have blacked out for a moment, she wasn't sure. But the next thing she knew, they were fucking wildly, Max and Joyce. His cock plunged in and out of her asshole and made her come. Then he flipped her over onto her back and flicked her pussy and made her come again.

Vera lifted up and watched them groggily. The bed heaved and tossed. She wanted to join them, but they didn't even look at her, didn't invite her. They were through with her.

She staggered from the bed. Max bellowed and shot his load deep into Joyce's bald cunt, kissed her wetly, then kept right on fucking her innocent little body.

Vera took up her panties from the floor. She looked at them dumbly. She didn't want to put them on yet. Her pussy was still on fire.

She watched the older man and younger girl flack and fuck. She put her hand to her pussy and rubbed it, watching them. She leaned back against the window sill and spread her thighs and masturbated.

Her hand swirled over the wetness of her cunt. Her fingers slipped into her pussy and felt the big load of sperm draining from her hole. She slipped her fingers farther under her crotch and felt her asshole.

It was slippery and sensitive. She probed at it with her fingertip, remembering the way Joyce's tongue had felt there, remembering the sight of her son's cock going in and out of Sally's asshole, of Max's cock fucking deeply into Joyce's butt.

"Ohhhh, fuck my ass, Max," she whimpered.

He didn't acknowledge her. Maybe she hadn't said it loudly enough. He seemed totally immersed with Joyce. She fucked her finger in and out of her asshole instead, rocking back, lifting one leg onto the chair seat to open her butt wider.

They were about to come. She gasped and watched their movements quicken, heard their gasps.

She shoved her finger deep in her ass and then masturbated her cut with her other hand. She tipped her head back against the window and came at the same time they did, moaning and gasping, feeling her whole body crush down impossibly on itself.

Thorne's image came to her mind at the height of it. It startled her. He was watching her. She couldn't read his expression.

"God, God!"

What would he think of her now?"

"Thorne… help me!" she cried softly, knowing she could sink no lower.

"No!" Vera said stubbornly.

She wrung her hands and paced back and forth. She looked through the living room to the lanai and went over and turned on the pool light with a quick snap. The inviting blueness made the house seem warmer, cozier, more rational and familiar.

"No!" she said again, spinning around to look at Roger.

He drank from a beer can and belched crudely. He looked impenetrably smug and satisfied with himself. "I still say we should sell the whole goddamn works. Not just Loon Key. Everything. He offered to buy it. Let's give him the headaches."

"I won't do it. I won't let those two men drag the Hanson chain to the level of that fuck palace!"

"Mommy, such language," Roger grinned.

"They're fine motels. They have a good name, repeat customers, year after year. Hanson motels are their home away from home."

"Turn off the bullshit, Mom," Roger said. "You sound like one of Dad's commercials. An operation like that can't miss. You charge 'em high for the room. Then extra for the porn movies over the tube instead of regular TV. You'll have more repeat customers than you can handle-young studs with money, instead of old codgers squeezing their nickels to get in a vacation to sunny Florida. We put in a percentage clause, and then Max gets all the work while we lie, back and spend the money. I'm going to vote for selling it to him."

"Roger, you can't!"

"I've got 30 percent, and you've got 30. That's a lot of cash, Mom!" He sucked his beer and looked at her. "Besides, if Max has 18, then all he and I have to do is dig up another 3 percent out of the employees, and there's nothing you or Bundt can say about it. That'll make 51, Mom, and 51 decides it. And I think out of all the employees we can find 3 percent, don't you?" He grinned at her with alarming coldness.

He was right. They wouldn't have any trouble. And all that she and Paul had worked for would be.

She'd done a lot of thinking since yesterday. She hadn't slept much at all last night. There was a cold eye floating above her bed, staring down at her, seeing her, seeing the things she'd done, the insanity of the past week. And now she felt shaky and sober, as if suffering from a hangover after a sexual drunk.

She needed advice. She needed to talk to Thorne before deciding anything, just to get his opinion. Paul had regarded him highly-too highly, maybe, for Roger's good. But she trusted Thorne, too. She wasn't too sure about Jack Cutter. He hadn't told her half what she'd learned from Max and Dancer, and that wasn't right.

The doorbell finally rang. Roger growled and carried his beer over to open it. "What the hell do you want around here?" he grated nastily. "See me during office hours, whiz kid."

Vera jumped up from the couch. "Thorne!" she cried happily.

She felt her pulse quicken as she looked at him standing in the doorway, taking in the clean cut of him, the squarish jaw, the wide chest, the thick pelt of dark hair, neat and trim.

He looked at her with sharp, perceptive blue eyes, and for a quick moment, she felt as she had last night-visible, ashamed. How could she dare hope he would have anything to do with an incestuous slut like her?

"Oh, Thorne…" she cried softly.

Roger stuck out his arm, stopping him from coming into the house. "Hey, where the hell do you think you're going? I didn't say you could see my mother, did I?"

Thorne looked at him, at his arm. "Vera, may I come into your house?" he asked.

"Roger, stop being an ass!" Vera cried.

Roger grinned and dropped his ann. "We went down to the Key yesterday, Bundt. That's real class. Way over your level of appreciation."

Thorne ignored him. He looked at Vera. "I've taken a poll of the employees who own stock, Vera. Most of them are old-timers who started out with Paul, and they think that Loon Key operation is a blight on the good name. They want to get rid of it. I wanted to find out what you and Roger thought."

"Fuck'em," Roger said.

"What do you feel about it, Thorne?"

"I agree with them. I'd go farther. I'd recommend you deal Sawyer straight out, fast."

"Pretty damn assuming, aren't you, whiz kid?" Roger snarled. "You come sucking around here as if you were running the show still, tallying up votes and all that crap. Buddy, you're not running it now, and you can figure on being minus my 30 percent." He rocked on his toes and grinned cockily at Bundt.

"Come to think of it, Bundt, who says your job is running around taking polls? You're supposed to be some kind of glorified bookkeeper. I want you taking polls, I'll tell you and see you're paid. Meanwhile, you can clean out your adding machine and get gone. You're fired as of right now."