Bobby Redding: Mommy_s sick friends

Her hand closed around the base of his prick while her oiled finger stroked the flattened side of the shaft, spreading the slick film from her cunt. She pushed two fingers inside her vagina, and again she rubbed the moisture off on Claude's cock. His chest moved with his breathing, and he braced his shoulders as he felt her wet fingertips stroke at his genitals.

He leaned back and watched as she bent her head toward his phallus. She opened her mouth wide and took all of his cock inside it at once. Her tongue pushed forward against the flattened side in a single stroke, until the tip moved inside the cluster of thin pubic hair.

Her thumb pressed at the base of the shaft, hidden behind the thick akin of his scrotum. The force of the thumb as it jammed him pushed the two balls apart. Her index finger moved back, following the sac between his legs, stopping just short of his rectum.

He waited as she breathed heavily against his crotch. His hairs moved with the warm wind from her mouth. She licked at the pinkish skin below the strands. She drew the skin down the cock with her hands, holding the prick tightly. She gritted her teeth while she rubbed the fleshy head back and forth over her teeth. Her tongue scooted over the tiny slit, and then streaked down the spine. At the bottom she rolled her tongue against the hidden testes.

"Go down on me, Claude." She lay back, her legs unfolding and spreading wide. He rocked forward and pressed his mouth to her muff. He rubbed his chin against the moist skin outside the opening. His tongue pushed in past the inner lips and the tip tasted the walls as it flagged against them.

"Finger me," she said, her voice betraying greater excitement now. "Finger it…" He rubbed his cheek against the hair while he pushed his finger inside the hole. The walls were juicy; he felt the cream push in under his fingernails.

The walls did not hug him tightly, and he pulled the single finger out in one stroke, then inserted two. His tongue found the clitoral nub, and he beat it down wetly against the tangle of thick hair until her pelvis started to roll violently under his mouth and her buttocks pumped her stomach forward. He no longer had to shove the fingers up her cunt; she was forcing the lining to move against the digits.

Her fingertips were light against the back of his neck. "Come here," she said, and for a moment he was on all fours as he crawled toward her. He held his mouth an inch above her full, sensuous lips. Her tongue moved out from between the folds and moistened them just as he opened his own mouth. She moved her breasts under his chest, the tits growing harder as they scraped his smooth skin. She clutched at his buttocks, and he pushed his prick up against the labia, jabbing her clit. Their tongues rolled like cylinders around each other, and she felt the tip of his small tongue rub the roof of her mouth. His penis nudged the greasy cleft and she rubbed her mound against the flatter side of the prick.

She slid against his pelvis until the head slipped inside her cunt. She had not wanted him inside so soon, but now that he was she had no thought of releasing him. Her body surged forward, and he was buried deep in her. Their pubic hairs curled into one another, their crotches welded.

She kneaded his buttocks in her hands as he drove in. His movements were steady, slow, and even, but the building excitement of the friction made it seem to Ella that each stroke was slower than the one before, that he was drawing the pleasure out almost unbearably.

He pushed up on one palm while his other hand caressed her full breast. He followed the breast to the valley between, and she squirmed until her tit pointed against his hand. He sifted the aureole between his thumb and forefinger, brushing the needle tip with the flat of his forefinger.

Claude relished the soaking her cunt gave his penis as he dunked it inside her. The tissue draped it tightly, and she thrust her pelvis to one side and then the other, so the head pushed into one wall and then the opposite before thrusting straight up toward the womb. The surging in his stomach told Claude he was cuming, and his body was swept up in the waves that shot up between the slick walls.

His wads of sperm triggered Ella's first orgasm. She rolled herself up and pressed her cunt muscles together. She wiggled the walls against the enveloped cock and sucked on it with her lubricated tissue. The hot fluid from the head seemed to explode inside of her, making the orgasm more intense. His seemed to be ending, and she let him move back out of the fleshy vise. She clutched his hips and moved him from side to side as he pushed and pulled in the final climactic strokes. The friction against her clitoris gave her a second orgasm, and Claude kept pushing, though drained of cum, prodding her on while trying to keep his cock erect.

Sue was a small child, though her breasts had begun to show signs of maturity. She wore her hair in bangs, but she seemed to Claude more sensual than any girl in his class, including Laura, whose body was much more well-developed.

Her almost baby-like looks were contradicted by a startling social poise with adults and children. She was easily the most popular girl in the class. Even the boys who usually shied away from girls tried to find ways to impress her.

Claude wondered if she were a virgin. There was a curious wisdom in her eyes – that, or, so Claude imagined at times, she was purely jaded. She did not seem the kind of thirteen-year-old who took directions – especially moral directions from her parents – without question.

She was going steady with an eighth-grader, Tom O'Hara, a tall, handsome boy who played on the school's basketball team. The glances they exchanged had a kind of passion to them. He knew those glances – that was the way Laura looked at him, the way he looked at Laura when he wanted her. There was a curious tenderness to the sexuality of children at puberty; he knew this instinctively if he could not articulate it. There was a kind of implicit violence when Ella Randall took him home, undressed him, and made love to him; in the sex he had with Tony, when the designer would force his big prick between Claude's small buttocks and push at the tiny sphincter hole, or else half-choke Claude on the cum his prick spurted.

He was walking through the north gate. The school library had closed, and the grounds were almost empty. He wanted sex, wanted it badly, but Ella Randall had been home sick, replaced by a substitute. After school he had gone into the library lavatory and masturbated once. Now his cock was alive again, and he had to think of other things. He didn't want to have to hunch over if someone saw him walking.

"There's Claude Parkins." The voice was underlined by a laugh, but it was unfriendly. Claude turned to see Tom O'Hara and Sue leaning against the fence several yards away. He had been so busy thinking about controlling his erection that he had not seen them.

"Hi 'ya, fag," O'Hara laughed. Claude breathed in deeply. He kept walking, aware of trying to keep his balance. He had been taunted about his effeminacy before, but seldom when alone and unprotected. The yard was empty, and O'Hara might be trying to prove something to his girl. He heard Sue whisper an admonishment, a standard feminine hesitation about the application of cruelty.

He walked out onto the street sidewalk, and his shoulders tightened and pulled back as he heard the quick heavy steps behind him. O'Hara's hand pressed down on his collarbone. "Why didn't you say hi, fella? Huh?" Tom's fingers gathered a few inches of cotton shirt and tugged on them threateningly. Sue was walking slowly toward them.

"Sorry," Claude said, his throat clotted and his voice muffled.

"Sorry isn't good enough, faggot." Claude's heart seemed to him to jump inside the frame of bone.