Walter Ramsden - Doris and Dad

Rhoda closed her eyes and sighed audibly, loud in the empty office, and gouged her two index fingers into her smoking cauldron. "I truly wish that Phil Hagerman would stumble in." He had sometimes, wondering if his dad had been around.

But he's probably fucking his sister now-or off some place with Vern and the Ormand boys from across town. She would relent and give her son another crack at her wooly blossom and honey pot, if he came in, but he almost never came to her place of employment.

With her eyes closed, she began to finger her pussy in a frantic need. She had visions of her son and Phil and the two Ormand boys all standing naked, awaiting their turns to shove their cocks to her. "If they were all here," she scowled at the idea of being found taking on young kids, "I'd take 'em all on. I could stand a little gang-banging."

Then Rhoda frowned. What was she contemplating and day-dreaming about was precisely what got her husband a term in the state penitentiary. Screwing the fourteen-year-old daughter of the school principal.

When she really had her fingers flying in and out of her pussy, her senses grew keen and alert, hearing the rear entrance open. "Son of a bitch," she breathed resentfully, pulling her hands from her crotch and pushing her dress hem down. "Orville," she called, "is that you?" She hoped it was-he'd banged her split several times, starting a month after her hubby had gone down the river. Up the river?

"Nah, Mrs. Myles. It's me."

And she stared implacably through narrowed eyes at Phil Hagerman standing in a slouch in the doorway of the office. "Is my dad around? Or coming by? He's not at the garage."

"I haven't seen him," Rhoda said with a wisp of a smile. "How are things at home?" The question was intuitive, as she wondered whether he would reveal anything.

"Awwwww, everything is fine," the youngster said.

"How's your sister? Behaving herself?" Rhoda said non-committally. "And you?"

"Were you and Vern talking about me the other evening when I was lounging in the patio?" she made up a story. "Bet I know what you were talking about," she continued.

Did she see his face redden.

"We weren't talking about you, Mrs. Myles," the boy blurted.

"Poop. I bet you were talking about girls," Rhoda smiled, shaking a finger at the youth. "Talking about these two things." She pointed at the twin mountains filling the bodice of her dress. "And what girls have down here." With an overly dramatic gesture Rhoda pointed at her crotch, using her index finger to dent her dress and shape it around her lips and over her plump Venus mound.

"Nah," Phil chirped quickly, gulping, but not taking his eyes off her finger that lingered within an inch of her torrid, damp pussy.

Rhoda winked impishly. "Well, if you-I mean you, Phil-have an interest in my two jugs and what I got between my legs, you shouldn't discuss them with my son. Talk to me about them. Come over here."

He was blushing now, but was unabashed as he strolled toward her. "What if I gave you a quick look at what I got between my legs? Would that make you run like a rabbit-or would you want to see more?" Before he could comment, Rhoda quickly swished her dresstail up, gave him a flash of a look and tossed her dress back over her bare snatch with all its splendid forest of ebony black hair.

She was uncertain. The boy didn't say anything, just stood there staring down at the place he had just seen. "Want to see more of it?" She laughed when he nodded, swallowed hard. She fanned her hand out and rubbed her fingertips against the bulge in his pants, down the tell-tale welt in his left leg.

"Gettin' any, Phil? You know what I mean," she said archly. "Are you getting any nookie." He remained quiet, immobile, just staring unblinking at the sag of her dress between her spread legs. "Hey, don't be shy," she laughed. She caressed a finger along his growing ridge. "Hey, are you getting worked up and need-some fucking?"

When he didn't reply, she said smugly, "You better know it. You're getting a hard-on!" With her left hand she hiked up her dress to expose her crotch, the black hair billowing in thick curls in a Vee from her legs to grow profusely across her pillow and a little way-up her flat belly.

Deftly," slowly, she unbuttoned his pants and reached inside, pried out his growing young cock. "Why don't you strip off your clothes and bang my snatch for me. Wouldn't you like to fuck your next door neighbor?"

Rhoda scowled at him as he hesitated as she dipped her hands into her straddle, caressed long, tapering thighs, then spreading the thick lips of her fragrant pussy. "Well, are you going to fuck me, or not?"

She goaded him by undoing his belt and pushing down his pants. "I think I'd love having you screw me, Phil. You have such a nice pecker for a young guy. You might as well," she breathed heavily, dipping a well-manicured finger deep into her wet tunnel and holding it before his nose for him to sniff.

"You really, truly mean it?" Phil said tightly and he bent over to untie his shoes and kick off his pants and shorts. Then he peeled off his shirt while Rhoda stood long enough to take off her dress, half-slip and bra. "Know what these are?" she pointed at her panties and giggled. "I had my panties off and was playing with my twat before you arrived." She lifted his half-limp peter and squeezed it. "How come not hard?"

She tugged lovingly on his meat. "Get it over here, Phil-so I can get my hot lips on it. I'll have me a finger-diddle cum while I render you a blow-job." She urged him to step over her and the hunkered down woman rolled back his foreskin, pushed some four inches of his cock into her mouth.

"Uuuuuummm-yuuuuummm," she crooned as she sucked hard, pushed both hands under him and into her oozy snatch. "Lean up over me," she mumbled around the mouthful of prick, "so I can really go down on you and swallow all your cock."

As her talented mouth lapped his prick, she swizzled her tongue around it, happily aware of the rapidly burgeoning plum on the end. She whimpered mutedly as her fingers were masturbating her into a sharp, twinging orgasm. Her body shook and she worked her head, nodding, to mouth-fuck his nearly full erection.

The chair creaked and squeaked as she shook. Her finger-orgasm was popping and crackling keenly, delectably in her red-hot snatch. She looked up into his face, eyes twinkling. He understood and obliged her by hunching gently, erratically, forcing his meat into her super-willing face. She responded by gulping the rubbery knob down her narrow gullet.

"Uuuuuuuum-uuuuum-uuuuuummm," she purred softly, savoring the plump head and the heady flavor of raw fuck-meat. She loved it, the way a completely hard cock would continue to expand when it was sucked just right. And the head and shaft of his cock thoroughly filled her hot mouth.

She didn't want to do the blow-job too far and have him go bang in her throat. As soon as she was satisfied it was as hard and big as it was going to get, she inched it out of her mouth by turning her head to the side. "Can you throw the dick to my snatch while I slump in the chair?"

As she waited for him to gawk at her drippy snatch and ogle her jutting breasts with the dark, bloated nipples, she caressed her belly and smoothed out her crinkly hair, combing fingers through the tangled tendrils.

"Come on, mount me," she urged, reaching a hand for his prodigious prong. She began panting passionately, lifting her heavy boobies, to goad his youthful animal lust. "You've fucked before, you know how. Come on, Phil-stud, mount your neighbor and fuck your beautiful cock up my twat."

She held her breath as he hovered down over her, pushed his arms behind her, just above her heavy hips. She reached, found him and dipped the fat, bluntish head of his cock into her gaping trough of red flesh. With only a couple of swabs, from her asshole to her clit, she set the point at the place she wanted to be speared.