Kathy Andrews: Coming with mom

It was happening again.

The hunger more powerful, more consuming, more demanding than ever before; the desperate need was flowing hotly through her. It was like a caged beast, a beast that paced and roared within her body, bellowing for release.

A hungry, insatiable beast.

Cock.

Big, hard, throbbing, beautiful cock!

But young. It had to be young cock. Carol Watkins cunt was bubbling, steaming, about to drive her out of her mind with that intense desire, that greedy need. Her cunt was wet now, slippery and twitching with anticipation. Her cunt was painfully swollen, burning for a touch, a caress, a wet kiss… a tongue. It happened every time she saw a bulge inside a boy's pants, a lump that told her his sweet cock was deliciously hard; And it seemed to her that she was seeing many cocks in that lovely state lately. Every place she looked, there was a young boy with a tasty-looking lump in his pants. It was not her imagination, wild as it was; there was no denying some of the boys had hard-ons.

If only they wouldn't get so damned hard, she thought, so visible. If I didn't see a hard cock, maybe, just maybe, this hunger would go away.

But she knew it would never go away. The hunger gnawed within her more each day, whether she was seeing a hard cock or not. The thought of a prick would set her cunt into a roaring inferno And she thought of cock most of her waking hours.

She watched the boys race up and down the basketball court. There was something exciting about seeing teenage boys in rough play. Their bodies, so young and firm, shining with sheen of sweat, the excited yells and general grab ass they did sent thrills shooting through her.

She had no business being in the gym, watching the practice plays, but no one had ever questioned her presence. No one interfered with her, thinking perhaps, she was the mother of a team member. She was a mother, all right, but her son was not yet in high school. He had a few more months before he entered this school.

Leaning back against the bleacher behind her, she let her knees part a bit. Now and then one of the boys would glance up at her, nudge a friend, and both would look. She knew they could see at least part way under her skirt, between her thighs. That made her cunt itch stronger with need. She didn't mind the boys peeking between her thighs; she loved it. If only she had the nerve to throw her legs wide apart, expose her cunt to them. But she didn't have that much nerve, exciting as it would have been.

She watched one boy more than the others.

He was two years older than her son, a bit taller, more muscular. But she wasn't interested in his muscles. Only one of those muscles interested her, and it wasn't really a muscle at all. It just happened to be an appendage dangling between his legs that became excitingly hard now and then. It was an appendage she loved, desired, hungered for.

The boy she watched glanced upwards at her frequently, flashing her a smile. Her gaze was fixed meaningfully on the front of his shorts more than the others, too.

After a few more minutes; the team took a break and the boy climbed the bleachers to where she was. He sat down next to her, breathing hard from the vigorous exercise, his flesh shining with sweat. A towel was draped over his shoulders. She rested her hand on his bare knee, feeling the moist skin.

"You're giving the guys quite a show." He grinned at her. "Do you know we can almost see all the way under your dress?"

"That's for you, darling," she replied huskily; "I see it's working, too." Her gaze moved to the front of his shorts, seeing the way his cock bulged. "No jock strap?"

"Who needs it?" he replied.

She laughed, a low, exciting, throaty sound. "You're so right. All those things do is hide the best part of a guy, right?"

He had brought a frosty bottle of coke from the machine with him, and he sipped it as he looked at her. He saw a woman twice his age, but a woman of better-than-average looks.

Carol Watkins was indeed a beautiful woman. She was thirty-two years old, but looked like a girl in her early twenties. The color of her long hair was similar to apricot, with shimmering auburn highlights. Her eyes were a distinctive green, but the whites were always clear but the intense smoldering in them was impossible to miss.

Carol's eyes promised wilder more erotic pleasures than a thousand and one nights. Her eyes told an interested observer that she was an

intensely erotic woman, a woman caged-hungry-for wild, uninhibited, totally wanton sex. Her eyes told of the beast prowling within her tall, slender body.

She had a small nose and a wide mouth. Her lips were quite full, moist and delectable. Her pink tongue flicked often over them, and the gesture had a way of making a cock hard. Her face, gently oval, was held up by a slender neck. Her shoulders sloped, in feminine fashion. Her tits, now concealed behind her cotton blouse, were full and firm, spongy to the touch. Her tits were exquisitely shapely, round with suckable nipples set upon pebbled discs. Her waist was still the same small size as when she was sixteen. Her hips were rounded, flowing into long, graceful thighs. Carol's ass swelled and arched, writhing when she walked. A tight skirt enhanced and molded her caress able ass cheeks to perfection, drawing the eye. She had a dimpled belly button and a flat stomach. There was a flawless triangle of hair framing her cunt, the hair long and thick and almost silky. Tucked between her thighs was her hot, desperate, insatiable cunt.

She slipped her palm up the boy's thigh, feeling the sweat there, becoming excited by the feel of his skin. Her fingers brushed the leg of his shorts, and he gently removed her hand before she could shove it into the wide leg and grabbed his cock.

"Not here, Carol," he said, "unless you want the whole damned team up here fucking

the piss out of you."

She laughed again in that throaty way. "Would they do that? Fuck me here? Would they actually come up here and fuck me?"

"You've given them damn near painful hard-ons." he said. "What's a guy to do?"

"Mmmm, a gang-bang might be what I need right now," she murmured, writhing her ass on the wooden bleacher. "I wouldn't mind that, I don't think."

"It could get rough," he warned.

She detected what she hoped was jealousy. She smiled up, at him. "I was just teasing, Mike."

"I know," he said. "Big seriously, Carol, those guys could get rough if you keep flashing them that cunt."

"I haven't let them see me that way," she replied. "Only a little leg, that's all. You've seen my cunt before."

"But they haven't." He pointed out a group of boys sitting on the court, waiting for the practice to start again.

A whistle blew and he stood up. "Meet me at the place behind the gym in half an hour," he said, trotting easily down the bleachers to resume practice.

Carol sat for another fifteen or twenty minutes, watching the teenage boys race about. Meeting Mike behind the gym meant he was not going with her this evening. She wasn't really disappointed. She knew what she would be doing behind the gym, too. But she

didn't mind that because she loved it as much as he did. But it also meant she wouldn't be with him hardly more than ten or fifteen minutes. That was a disappointment to her because she had wanted to run her hands over his body, feel his tight, smooth, youthful flesh and play with him. She loved to stroke his thighs, feel of his tight ass, fondle his hairy balls and nuzzle at his hard cock.

She wouldn't get to do any of that tonight. Finally she stood up and carefully stepped down the bleachers, her high heels making it dangerous. As she walked from the gym, she heard a couple of low wolf whistles. She smiled to herself as she walked into the darkness to the rear of the gym. There was nothing there except for two dented and rusting trash bins. A single pole lamp cast a gloomy shadow over everything. But at least there was a patch of grass so she wouldn't have to stand on her knees in the dirt.