John Friday: Mom suck big ones

She felt her body growing weak, submitting to anguish, accepting pain with weary resignation. Then, in the depths of mind-numbing depression, she began to feel a haunting tingle. Sinewy bands of cunt muscle never touched by a cock before began to respond, undulating fiercely in response to stress.

Max grunted happily. That usually happened once fear was repressed by the enormously obscene delights of his giant cock.

He enjoyed the pulsing waves that made her cunt more vibrant and willing. Her pliant cunt walls strained, but her whole pussy sheath came alive and embraced his stabbing cock shaft.

Max fucked faster and made her eyes bulge. Angela felt her climax begin with a grinding contraction that involved both her pussy and ass at the same time. It was as if his cock had teen fucking them both.

She moaned and then screamed. Her lush body became glazed with the sweat of excitement. Once cold with chilling fear, her creamy smooth skin now glowed with radiating warmth. She tensed, closing her eyes tightly. Her back arched, only to be slammed down when he drove his cock in. Then she bounded back up, gasping anxiously.

"I'm going to cum!" she cried. "I'm going to have the best climax of my whole life!"

He answered only with grunts, saving all his breath and power to jackhammer his huge prick.

Angela's heart raced. She could feel the rapid thud of her pulse in her temples, as if her head might suddenly swell and explode.

She felt spasms of tormented delight in her pussy, a writhing motion that rippled upward from deeper than ever before. Even her bowels were heaving in obscene delight.

Max roared as his cock fired. Jism shot into her womb and filled her with unfamiliar heat. Her guts wrenched, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Orgasmic contractions churned deep and rippled up the cum-slick length of his cock. He drove in hard again and gave her another searing hot gush of cum cream that so warmed her insides that her bowels let go, voiding themselves as he filled her cunt.

Angela didn't realize what had happened at first. The purging of her ass was a sensation of pleasure, a welcome relief that fused with the glorified confusion of an excruciating climax.

Limp and weak from shock waves of joy, Angela was shocked when Max pulled his cock out of her and she saw that she'd shit on the bed.

She groaned, ashamed and disgusted that she'd lost control.

"I told you I'd fuck the shit out of you. Now clean it up and report for work at six tomorrow morning."

Angela couldn't answer. Her face twisted, furrowing her brow, and then she burst out sobbing.

She went home in a daze, her pussy still writhing with anguished aftershocks. Her shithole cringed and clenched in shame. Never in her life had she lost control of her body so completely.

Angela found the house empty and sighed with relief. She was glad not to find Danny at borne with a hard-on. Her body needed rest and her mind too.

She poured a stiff drink and gulped down half of it, reining a little as the soothing warmth of whiskey settled in her stomach. Then she spotted the note Danny had left on the kitchen table.

Mom:

I'm with Yvonne. She got a new job at a fancy resort hotel on the coast, and I'm moving with her. I packed all the things I want. Stuff like my baseball glove and model airplanes can all go to the dump. Hope you found a job and have a good life. Know I'm going to! Tell Melinda good-bye for me. And good-bye to Dad if you see him.

Love, Danny "Oh, my God!" She began sobbing again and all the warmth drained out of her. "What about me? Danny, you didn't even say good bye to your mother?"

Despair settled on her like a gloomy cloud. Her life seemed ruined. Now her husband and son had both deserted her. Tears rained down on Danny's note until the ink smeared and she could no longer read it.

She was left with an empty house, nothing to eat and no money to buy food.

Max had laughed when she asked for an advance on her salary: "If you want charity, you're in the wrong place. The Rescue Mission is two blocks down the street. Stay there and you won't even need bus fare. You can walk to work… if you can still walk that is."

Angela thought about taking a sharp knife and slashing her wrists, but she didn't have the strength to do that. The way Max had ravaged her body, it even hurt to cry.

Hands trembling, she picked up the phone and dialed her sister's number.

"Sis – you've got to help me," she said with a wracking sob.

"Help you? I don't even want to talk to you!"

"Wh-what's the matter?"

"Melinda told me what you did to her, you and Danny."

A young female voice answered on the fourth ring.

Angela stammered: "Hello, wh-who's this?"

"Joanne," the girl replied, sounding like a teenager.

"I must have dialed the wrong number," Angela said. "I'm calling Frank Whitmire."

"You got the right number. Who's this?"

"His wife," she said uneasily.

"Ex-wife you mean." The voice was smug and surly.

"Yes, just put Frank on, would you please?"

"I'll see if he wants to talk to you."

There was a long and dreadful moment of silence during, which Angela wondered what a young girl was doing in Frank's room. The answer was obvious, but she didn't want to believe it.

Then Frank came on the line, his voice gruff and impatient. "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Danny's run away," she blurted out with a sob. "With Yvonne, that platinum blonde divorcee who used to live down the street."

"Good," Frank replied. "Getting away from you is the smartest thing he could do."

Angela sobbed. "Frank, I'm sorry. I know I've made a mess of everything, but I need your help."

"My help? You need to see a psychiatrist!"

"Frank, I don't even have money enough to put food on the table."

"So why don't you sell what you've been giving our son for the last several days," he replied coldly.

"Please, Frank… don't do this to me. I've been shamed and hurt enough already."

"Not enough to suit me, bitch!"

Her temper flared. "You're no better! What's that young girl doing there with you?"

"She's restoring my faith in my manhood." Frank chuckled. "I don't need to tell you how exciting it is to have sex with a horny teenager."

Angela shuddered and cried. "Frank, you can't just dump me out like dirty dishwater – not after almost twenty years!"

"You've got the house, and all the furniture. What are you bitching about?"

"The house payment is due next week, and I won't have money enough to pay it."

"Good, when the bank kicks you out, I'll buy the place again. I haven't been able to find an apartment I like."

"Why don't you come home?" she pleaded tearfully.

"You know, I just might do that…"

"Oh, Frank! Yes, please do! I'll make everything up to you."

"You sure as hell will! Joanne is a runaway from a rich family and she's used to having a maid."

"Who cares about Joanne?"

"I do! If I'm coming home, she's coming with me. You can stay on to cook, clean house and do the laundry."

"Not for some young slut you've picked up!" she raged.

"It's that or start selling your faithless cunt on the street," he reminded her.

Angela felt her blood boiling, but there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't stand the thought of turning tricks, or going back to the diner and that sadistic big cock of Max's.

"All right," she said grudgingly. "We'll be there in about an hour," Frank said in a tone of triumph. "I'll bring groceries so you can fix dinner. Meanwhile, move your shit into Danny's old room. That's where you'll be staying."

"It's yes, Mr. Whitmire, from now on," he said, rubbing it in.

"All right!" she snapped. "Say it!"

"Yes, Mr. Wh-Whitmire." She almost choked on the words. It was worse than when Max rammed his monster cock down her throat. Bitter humiliation was even harder to swallow.