M. DeSantis - Her Foxy Mom

She took her hands away and put them on his powerfully muscled ass cheeks. Her mouth opened in soundless wails of sensation. She could feel every pulsation of hot blood throbbing through the head of his cock within her pussy lips' grip as clearly as if she were plugged into his heart herself. It was wonderful, terrific, beautiful, every bit as pleasurable as she'd imagined, dreamed and fantasized it would be.

Slowly, Sal began to move. He pushed his hips forward, and his prick slid slowly into her waiting pussy. Steadily, without hesitating, the bar of rigid male meat drove into her aching quim until she had the full length of it inside her.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," she hissed up to him. Her breasts were crushed against his wide, powerful chest – and her pussy lips were crushed against the hard, bony ring at the base of his click. Instinctively Charlene began to roll her hips upward, grinding her pussy against his loins. Sal's cock was already starting to leap and jerk inside her cunt grip and she had a sudden, horrible awareness that he was going to come soon – very soon.

Too soon.

"No, no – wait for me," she pleaded. Desperately, she was thrusting her hips up to him.

But Sal was already short-stroking in and out of her. Barely half the length of his cock was being withdrawn and piled back into her receptive cunt and that with all the power and strength he could muster. Going faster and faster, meeting his downstrokes with her own heaving lurches upwards, she strove for the orgasm she felt only moments away. She could feel every bump and vein in his lovely hard cock as it slid in and out between the lips of her pussy and seemed preternaturally aware of the slap of his potent young balls against the spread furrow of her tightly molded ass.

But then he plunged the length of his prick back into her with abrupt power – so much that it knocked the breath from her. Of their own volition, her long, lissome legs came up and wrapped about his hips, her ankles locking and her heels pounding against his ass. She squeezed her eyes shut and strained for her orgasm.

And then he let loose inside of her.

"Oh, cripes, Charlene," he moaned – and she felt his geyser of hot cream inside her almost immediately. She could feel each spasm rippling through the long tube running the length of the underside of his prick, feel each sudden jerk of his prick inside her, feel each eruption of spunk shooting out of her and spattering deep, deep inside her burning quim.

She answered by heaving her hips up at him with such power that she seemed about to dislodge him. Her pussy had closed about his cock with incredible strength – and, still, she was brief but ineradicable moments away from her own orgasm as he shot his wad.

She felt his cock beginning to deflate inside her cunt, felt the strength, the rigidity, the heat going out of it as it was poured into her cunt and womb. His dick limpened and his jerkings slowed – and then he was lying still and motionless on top of her.

"No – you have to make me come, too!" she wailed. Her heels pounded ineffectually against the flesh of his ass – but it was useless. He'd come, dumped the long-restrained load of his balls into her long-denied cunt – and there was nothing in the world that would revive the cock soon enough to bring her the peak she craved.

With sudden anger and frustration, Charlene put her strong, slim hands against his chest and pushed his semi-conscious form off and out of her. The feel of his limp dick coming out of her cunt sent another spasm of residual lust through her slender hips – and then he fell heavily to the floor.

"Hey, what're you doing that for?" Sal asked groggily – but got no answer. He let his head fall back to the soft, plush carpeting and his eyes closed He began to doze.

While above him, on the sofa, Charlene was digging and pawing at her own cunt with furious need, squeezing and rubbing and kneading her pussy lips as though there were a fire inside them, pinching and flicking her fingertips on her clitoris, jamming desperate fingers as far inside her twat as she could. She needed to come, had to come. If she didn't come she was quite certain she was going to lose her mind.

It took a while, but after about ten minutes of playing with herself and fantasizing, she finally made it – though it wasn't the shattering intense orgasm she'd felt rising through her while Sal had been fucking her.

As always, it left her frustrated and in need of something more.

She lay still for a few moments, then stood. She looked disgustedly down at the dozing form of her now ex-boyfriend, then strode into the bathroom to shower, douche and change. When she returned to the living room, she prodded Sal awake with a toe and drove him out of the apartment with angry words while he was still tightening his belt at his waist.

There has to be something better, she thought. There just has to be.

There was.

Word of Charlene's break-up with Sal spread quickly. But there was no sudden flood of interest from other boys. For one thing, examinations were starting and at Charlene's school, examinations were taken seriously.

For another thing, Sal was a popular guy in the school. No one wanted to hurt his feelings by leaping on her as soon as she'd put him off.

And finally, there was that problem which had plagued Charlene in her relations with the opposite sex for long years.

Charlene herself.

Charlene's stunning good looks and her somehow aloof aura literally scared off most of the boys her own age. To be sure, there were always guys who came up to her on the street and made blunt suggestions.

"Hey ba-bee! How'd you like to get your pussy sucked, sweet tits?"

She ignored the man in the hardhat standing knee-deep in a street excavation and kept right on walking. Sure, there were guys that came on to her. But they always came on to her like animals.

Too bad, too; he was kind of cute.

No, what Charlene was looking for was a man. Not a fumbling, uncertain boy, not an inexperienced kid, not some muscle-headed bimbo whose most suave approach was to follow her down the street making slurping and sucking sounds – but a man.

Like her mother's man.

Derek knows how to treat a woman right. She remembered what she'd seen through the partially opened bedroom door the week before.

Yes, like that.

She stopped into the pharmacy and picked up her prescription for birth control pills, then boarded the subway for home. She tried to push her social thoughts aside and psych herself up for the examinations to come. She had to hit the books and hit them hard.

At Charlene's school, examinations were taken seriously.

Her mother called her at five.

"Hi, Charly."

"Oh – hi, Mom."

"What's wrong, baby, having a bad time with the books?"

She wanted to tell her mother what was really wrong. She wanted to say, No, Mom, not the books – the boys. Too many boys, Mom, and not enough men. Not enough men with hot, knowing hands and talented, expert tongue and long, thick, hard cocks and the moves to use those cocks.

She caught herself, stopped that line of thought. What's wrong with me? I'm turning into some kind of nymphomaniac or something!

"Ahhh, you know how it is, Mom. Hate to be tied down to these dry old books." And mentally, she added: Especially when I'm sitting in such wet pants.

"Stick with it a little longer, Charly. Pretty soon it'll be vacation time. When you come back from visiting your father we'll go away for a couple of weeks."

"Sure, Mom. I'm just a little down."

"Well, I'm going to be late tonight."

"Big date with Derek, huh?"

Her mother's chuckle was low and throaty. "Getting predictable, huh?"

"You bet. But that isn't all bad. He seems like a nice guy." Meaning: He knows how to make a woman glad she's a woman.