James Elliott - A Bride For The Whole Family

"Yes, I'm sure," he nodded, lowering his eyes from hers to escape her probing gaze and feeling more and more uneasy by the moment.

The softness of her fingertips were on his cheek, lightly caressing.

His eyes rose to her again and that confident smile on the fullness of her lips. There was no denying that Lorraine was a beautiful woman, a fact that had always drawn him and a fact that she had used on him ever since her marriage to his father. He wanted to escape her gaze, but she held him as she had always held him.

"I don't think anything has changed, Michael. I don't think you want anything to change," she whispered, her head moving slowly toward him.

"I think you want me as much as you've always wanted me."

He moved his head away, but the fingers on his cheek increased their pressure, easing his mouth back. Then her lips were on his, teasing with a light brushing quiver. She pressed harder, her tongue darting from her mouth and flicking over his lips. But he held firm, refusing her the entrance she wanted.

"Why are you fighting it?" she glanced up to him, when she finally pulled away. There was hurt in her eyes; a hurt that filled him with an aching hollowness. "It's been a long time, Michael. I've been waiting for this. I want it and I can feel that you want it as much as I do."

She pressed her lips to his again. This time her arms circled his back, pulling her body close so that the heavy balls of her tits rolled against him, taunting him with their cushiony softness. Her pelvis wedged its way to his crotch, rubbing the plump mound of her pubis over the rising length of his prick.

You're right, you hot bitch! he cursed his weakness, as his mouth opened to accept the welcomed offering of her probing oral digit. I never could refuse you! Never could deny that exquisite cunt of yours!

Totally confident of herself now, her sureness boostered by the thickening pole she had created in the crotch of his jeans, her tongue drilled into her step-son's mouth, swirling and twirling around his tongue. Her lips pressed hard to his, forcing his mouth wider as she tried to drive her oral digit down his throat. As his arms closed around her, she moved her body, mashing her breasts harder against his chest and greedily rubbing the firm, fleshy mound of her sex over the solid rod of cock straining out from his pants.

Enticing him into her mouth, her lips and teeth lightly closed around his tongue. She sucked, as her pelvis undulated into his, emphasizing what it was that she wanted. She sucked, promising the oral delights she had so expertly laved on his cock innumerable times in the past.

She sucked until a slight saline taste suffused through her mouth, then she released his tongue and their mouths parted.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it?" she smiled, reveling in the feel of his young arms around her.

"Lorraine…" he began.

She interrupted whatever he had intended to say as her mouth covered his again and the flickering flurry of her tongue invaded his mouth once again, twisting with its tantalizing gyrations. She parted from him only when she felt his hips swaying with the sensuous rhythm of her pelvis. And when her lips did leave his, she removed his arms from around her and stepped back.

Her eyes glowed with the growing lust that coursed through her body, as she reached behind her back and found two small snaps and unclasped them. Then her fingers discovered the zipper beneath and edged it down its jagged-tooth path. Her smile of confidence widened as she noticed that her stepson's eyes were riveted to her every action, his nostrils flaring slightly with excitement.

The caftan fell away from her body in one smooth motion, like a sheet unveiling some sculpture. But this work of art was alive. He found himself gulping deeply as he stared at her. Not only was she braless, but she wore no other undergarments.

He had forgotten just how beautiful Lorraine was, just how desirable a woman she was, just how much she affected him, as the throbbing stiffness bulging from his jeans testified to.

The fairness of her blonde hair matched the creamy texture of her flawless skin. Her tits were big! Breasts that were heavy globes of pendulous flesh that danced resiliently on her chest as she breathed.

Topping each of those fascinating, pillow-like mounds were light brown aureoles and nipples that had already begun to stiffen with desire.

Her stomach had lost the flatness of youth, but it was far from a gross, bulging midriff. Her belly was a slight protruding slope that led his eyes downward to the plump mound of her pubis. No longer did her love knoll sport the soft brown sexual fur it had worn the last time he had seen her. Now there was only a continuation of the milky smoothness of her skin. Shaven and bare, her cunt posed with the innocence of a young girl.

His balls drew themselves tightly into the security of their sac as she moved back toward him, wagging the delightfully flaring curves of her hips in an exaggerated sway. Her tits juggled liquidly from her chest.

Her eyes flashed with abandoned lust.

Back in his arms, she covered his mouth with hers, as his hands roved over the sleek smoothness of her back. His fingers eagerly crept to the jutting roundness of her buttocks and squeezed into the fleshy cheeks of her ass, arousing moans from the depths of her throat. She wiggled, rolling her voluptuous nakedness against him, as if trying to push herself through the clothing he still wore.

In a surprising abrupt movement, the nude woman suddenly pulled away from him and with a devilish grin, dropped to her knees before him.

With the same quickness, her long fingers darted to his fly, attempting to free the zipper. But his hands were on hers, moving them away from his crotch.

"Lorraine…please…Diana," he gazed down at the lovely vision of womanly servitude at his feet. Naked and willing, she stared up to him, uncomprehending this last moment of hesitation.

Unwilling to be denied, her head leaned forward and her lips kissed along the swollen bulge covered by the coarseness of his jeans. Even through the fabric of his pants, he could feel the warmth of her breath permeating the cloth and flowing around the solidness of his manhood.

He shuddered as he weakly fought the desire that swirled up through his loins, then moaned and released her hands.

Her fingers, free once again, found the metal hinge of his fly and yanked down its jagged-edged course. The smell of his manliness flooded her nostrils, even before her lust-controlled fingers tucked inside his fly and touched the stiff column of manmeat. The odor was far from offensive. It was a deep musky aroma that she had come to love during her years, an erotic scent of manhood that only stimulated her more.

Carefully, she worked the thick pole of his prick from his pants, then sat back on her calves to examine the swollen shaft as it came free. It has been a long time, she mused to herself, as her fingers tenderly traced along the rod of hardened flesh she had created.

She relished the smoothness of his cockflesh and the virile solidness that throbbed under her fingertips. Even as she watched, the plumpness of his glans seemed to swell even fuller.

Her head moved forward as her stepson watched. Her red, puckered lips kissed at the sleekness of his cock's crown, sucking away the clear preseminal juices that welled out from its slitted mouth. He felt good, manly, his sex warm and soft against her lips. She felt him quiver and found herself doing likewise in a lusty reaction.

Edging her mouth from his lust-wand, she rolled her eyes upward and smiled at the pleasure she found on his face, then turned her eyes once more to the fat stalk possessed by her fingertips. Closing her eyes, she moved forward, letting the flicking probe of her tongue tip guide her to his cock. She delighted at the shuddering thrills she ignited within her stepson, as the feathery touch of her tongue brushed over his blood-engorged glans. But more than that, she relished the oraltactile taste of him that she received.