John Friday: Mom sucks big ones

He began to moan, receiving pleasure that was more than enough. Too much. Danny just wanted to rest, to be by himself for awhile. He'd loved his mother's demanding lust at first, but now it was getting to be a pain. He decided to shake her up a little. If she wanted so damn much from him, she would have to give him something special in return.

Danny folded his hands beneath his head and stretched out, smiling, while she nibbled her way down to his dense spread of cockhair.

She nibbled around the fringe of it, sending slight tingles of fresh excitement into his loins.

"I've been thinking," he said slowly, letting her nibble right up to the base of his cock before he went on. "I'm really enjoying sex with you."

"I'm glad, dear. I've never had better!" She turned her head and dragged her tongue up the underside of his sagging cock, supporting it with her hand while she licked off the film of cum that glazed his long cockshaft.

"Yeah, but you see, I don't know what's better. Yours is the only cunt I've ever fucked."

"And the only one you need to fuck. Later, when I've taught you everything, you'll meet some nice young girl and thrill her out of her mind."

Angela raised her head and opened her lips, pressing down to suck in the bulbous head of his half-erect cock.

Danny groaned, feeling the pulse of excitement stir again.

"I want to know even more than you do," he said. "I want to try another sexy grown woman."

"Another woman?" Angela's head bobbed up, and she spit the words out like poison.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about Yvonne. In fact I was thinking about her all the time I was fucking you."

"Bastard!" she snarled, squeezing his cock in a hand that wanted to be a fist. "That spindly bleached blonde divorcee?"

"She's got two sharp jutting tits like a pair of bumper bullets and a shapely ass that looks like it was borrowed off a statue of Venus."

"All right," his mother conceded grudgingly, not wanting to hear any more. "She's tall and sultry in a cheap sort of way. But I'm twice the woman she is, I know that!"

"Maybe you know. I sure don't, but I want to find out. You know her, don't you?"

"Just to say hello to."

"Get to know her better," he instructed with steely calm. "I want to fuck her."

"No," Angela insisted. "You're mine. You're all I've got now. I don't want to share your cock with anyone."

She squeezed his prick possessively.

"If you're better than she is, what do you have to worry about?"

Angela sobbed pitifully. She'd already lost her husband, and now she became worried that she was losing her son. But she realized quickly that she had no real choice other than to satisfy his lewd cravings. Danny's cock was swelling massively hard in her hand. She just had to have him, even if not all to herself.

"It will take some time for me to get to know her," she said in a strained and desperate-sounding voice.

"You've got time," Danny said, delighting in his newfound power. "Until noon tomorrow."

Angela made coffee the next morning while Danny was sleeping, enjoying a much-needed rest. He had fucked her three times after making the demand that she deliver Yvonne to him, and each fuck had made her more determined to oblige his obscene desires.

Her palms were cold with the sweat of apprehension while setting up the coffeemaker, and she felt a little better when she had downed two cups laced with bourbon. She had no idea how to approach Yvonne. The woman was so stunningly beautiful yet so standoffish, as if she had the world by the tail and she knew it.

She poured a third cup of coffee at exactly eight. Four hours remained. She splashed a double shot of bourbon into the mug and sipped on it, trying to think. I can't walk up to an ultra-sexy platinum blonde divorcee and say: Oh, hi there… how would you like to fuck my son?

Worse, Angela knew that Yvonne worked nights as a cocktail waitress. She was used to sleeping late, not getting up much before noon… if then.

Angela's breath rasped until her chest burned. Her fingers trembled. If only I'd remained faithful to my husband, she was thinking, none of this would have happened.

But in twenty years, their marriage had grown stale. Frank's interest in her declined as her sexual desires increased. The more she wanted from him, the less he seemed willing to give. When she saw her son's stiff cock practically begging for female attention, it was a temptation that no horny woman in the prime of her sex life could possibly resist.

Angela swigged down the last of her whiskey-laced coffee and stood up. Lightheaded, but fiercely determined, she strode out the front door, mindless of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a filmy black negligee that did more to accent than conceal her voluptuous curves.

The old man who lived directly across the street had just gone out to get the morning paper. He almost swallowed his dentures when he saw her.

Angela didn't even notice him, or the younger man who spent five minutes stupidly watering a fire plug with his garden hose after she walked by.

Angela knocked on Yvonne's door and waited restlessly, her ninety-proof courage fading fast.

"Who is it?" an irritated female voice called from the inside.

"It's Angela," she said. "Your neighbor from up the street."

"Oooh, Angela." The voice was still sleepy, but not quite so hostile.

The latch chain rattled and the door eased open.

"I'm sorry to bother you this early, but I just have to talk to someone."

Yvonne smiled. "I understand. I heard that Frank took off a few days ago, so you came to talk to the neighborhood authority on divorce, right?"

"Well, not exactly…" Angela shivered, suddenly realizing what she was wearing and that half the neighborhood was staring at her standing on Yvonne's front steps. "Could I come in, please?"

"Certainly." Yvonne stepped back, smiling, resplendent in a sheer robe of silvery fabric exactly the same color as her long hair. The flowing robe was collared and trimmed with silky blue fox fur; a deep plunging V that reached almost to her navel.

Yvonne regarded her neighbor with a catlike glance. Typical female jealousy. Angela's figure was lush – outstandingly so – a tempting piece of fuck-flesh if there ever was one.

Still with a catty gleam in her cool green eyes, Yvonne asked: "What happened, did Frank catch you fucking the milkman? Is that why he took off?"

"Not the milkman, no…" Angela couldn't bring herself to speak the whole truth. "But I was unfaithful to him, and he has filed for divorce."

"You fucked just one other guy?" Yvonne asked, restraining an impulse to laugh.

"Yes, someone very special to me."

"Oooh, I see. Your secret admirer. With me, it was the defensive line of that pro football team that won the playoff game here last year. My husband just couldn't stand the fact that I'd taken in more than sixty inches of strange cock in less-than sixty minutes."

Angela laughed. Then she shuddered. "What I did was probably worse."

"What could be worse than a man finding his wife in bed with six big studs all bound for the Super Bowl?" Yvonne asked calmly, stroking the silvery deep fur that covered her jutting tits.

"Frank caught me fucking our son," Angela confessed tearfully.

"Oh, wow! That is really heavy duty!" Yvonne's cool glimmer of sexual superiority flickered out like a candle in a windstorm.

"And that's not the worst," Angela sobbed. "Now my son wants to fuck you."

The words had come blurting out, nothing like the speech Angela had rehearsed.

Yvonne seemed more than shocked by the suggestion. She grinned. "That devil! I've seen him watching me when I work in the yard. He stands at the window and practically drools. I've been expecting him to make some kind of approach, but I sure didn't think he'd send his mother as a messenger."