John Friday: Mom suck big ones

He clamped and hissed, his eyes narrowed by the strain of trying to hold back. It was the best part of sex for him, that marvelous tension. His muscles quaked, and then Danny had to let go.

His voice roared and his cock heaved, firing a creamy jet that shot deep.

Joanne screamed, drumming her heels on her ass. "More! More! Ooooh, I love the feel of cum in me and you have so much!"

Joanne's pussy wrung his gushing cock, slithering as her pliant cunt filled with cum.

"I can feel it bubbling right up to my pussy lips!" she moaned.

"Up and out, baby. I'm going to keep fucking you until it runs down to the crack of your ass!"

"Yes! Oh, slick my shitter with your hot jism. Then you can fuck me through the backdoor. You'll like my ass, Danny. It's tighter and hotter than a climaxing pussy!"

"If it's tighter than your cunt right now, it'll peel the skin right off my cock!"

Joanne's grinding contractions grew stronger. Her teeth clenched, her eyes fluttered and then a scream of lewd passion exploded from her lips. She bucked in a frenzy of joy and finally drained Danny's cock.

The two of them lay gasping.

Danny stroked her tits gently now, and Joanne enjoyed the fading aftershocks of her great orgasm. Slowly, their racing hearts and ragged breaths settled back into a normal rhythm.

Then he heard a car door, slam.

Danny leaped up. "Oh, Jee-zus!"

He grabbed frantically for his clothes.

"Danny, what's the matter? Don't you want to fuck my ass?"

"I do, but not right now. That's my dad's car. I recognize the sound, and by the way he slammed that door, I'd say he's really pissed!"

"Oooh!" Joanne slipped on her bikini top and fumbled nervously, trying to tie the knot.

Before Frank had stalked the whole length of the house, both of them were dressed. At least Danny had his pants on. He hadn't bothered with his shirt, shoes or socks, but that was natural enough for a guy who was supposed to be sunning himself and enjoying a beer.

They were sitting primly apart, Joanne on the chaise, Danny in a lawn chair ten feet away.

Frank burst onto the patio. "What the hell is going on here?"

Danny managed a puzzled grin of innocence. "What do you mean, Dad?" Then he raised his glass. "Oh, this – Joanne and I were just having a beer. I didn't think you'd mind."

"The beer I don't mind too much, but Angela said she was sucking your cock!"

"Noooo!" Danny shook his head. "We weren't doing anything except talk. Mom's just trying to get back in your good graces by making trouble for me."

"Is that right?" Frank demanded.

Angela had followed Frank onto the patio.

"I-I told you what I saw, Mr. Whitmire. Joanne sucked his cock and swallowed his cum, then Danny fucked her there on the chaise lounge."

Joanne's face paled despite her bronze tan. She glanced down between her legs, fearful that some of Danny's cum might have spotted the upholstery. Luckily there were no obvious signs.

Danny scowled. "She's lying. Just look at her."

Angela did have an enigmatic grin on her lips. In a strangely calm and formal voice, she said: "Mr. Whitmire, do you remember the camera your wife gave you last Christmas? The one that takes instant color pictures?"

"Yes."

"Then look at these." She handed him a stack of color prints.

Danny caught just a glimpse of the top one. "Ooooh, shit!"

He leaped out of his chair, sprinting toward the back fence. He climbed it in a panic and dropped out of sight on the other side while Frank's gaze remained locked on the pictures he was thumbing through.

With Danny gone Joanne had to take the full heat of his wrath.

"You little bitch!" he growled. "You faithless, cheating cunt! Fucking my own son behind my back!"

"Frank, I can explain…"

"Do it on your way out the door, but don't expect me to listen."

"Wh-what?"

"Do I have to spell it for you? Out! O-U-T! Get your ass out of my house and out of my sight!"

"Oooh, Frank," she moaned, blubbering and trying to think of something to say.

"If you don't move your ass, I'm going to kick it!"

"All right!" Joanne leaped up and ran to get her things together.

Angela waited until the girl was inside the house, then she spread her arms. "Frank…"

He turned and his lips curled. "You get your ass out of here too! I've had it with cheating sluts! I don't even want you around as a maid!"

"But, Frank, I'm the one who told you!"

"You're also the bitch that started all this!" He whirled and launched a vicious kick at her ass, but Angela was already moving away from him. He barely grazed her bountiful behind.

Angela and Joanne went down the front steps together, both of them in tears.

"I guess we've both had it," Angela said bleakly.

Joanne nodded. She had slipped a dress on over her bikini, grabbed her purse and left. Angela hadn't even paused to do that. She left the house still wearing her maid's uniform, fearful of what Frank might do if she lingered.

"The question is, what do we do now?" Angela was mainly asking herself.

"I've got just about enough for cab fare to get home," Joanne said. "At least my father will take me back."

"Lucky you! I'm heading for the Rescue Mission on foot."

The young blonde hesitated a moment as they reached the sidewalk. Then she said tentatively: "Angela, would you like to come home with me?"

Angela laughed and shook her head. "You and I are not exactly the best of friends."

"I know I was mean to you, but that was to please Frank. I could be nicer to you. A lot nicer!"

"Well, I don't think your parents would welcome a stranger."

"There's just my father," she said. "We usually have a maid, but we don't right now. I know I could gets you the job if you want it."

"Well…" Angela was considering her other prospects, a charity soup kitchen and trying to get a job with Max at the diner after not showing up when she said she would. "Maybe being a maid isn't so bad after all."

"Good!" Joanne said, "Come on, we should be able to hail a cab at the corner."

"Your father must be quite well-to-do if you have a maid most of the time," Angela said as they hurried along.

"Well-to-do?" The petite blonde almost laughed. "What he carries in his pocket would make any man well-to-do. What he has in the bank would make your eyes pop! You've heard of Dayton Industries?"

"Who hasn't?"

"Well, my dad is Glen Dayton. The top man and majority stockholder. The kind who can trade in his car when the ash tray gets full."

"Ooooh, I don't think I could be a maid for anyone that important. Didn't our senator visit him a week or so ago?"

"Both of them, Angela, but that's no big deal. Daddy buys politicians like you buy a new lipstick. He loans them his yacht or one of the company jets when he wants a favor."

"I'd be frightened of a man with so much power," Angela said.

Joanne laughed. "Why? He's just my dad. He's a nice guy when he isn't working."

"If he's so nice, why did you run away?"

She shrugged and swirled her long golden hair. "Because he's almost always working. Since my mom died ten years ago he's practically lived at the office."

What the girl didn't say was that she hoped meeting Angela would change that for the better. Her father liked lush, ripe-bodied women with big tits.

Angela waited tensely in the maid's quarters at the rear of Glen Dayton's hilltop estate. The three rooms were almost as large as the house Frank had told her to leave. A bedroom, kitchen and bath.

The bedroom window looked out on an acre of lawn, a swimming pool, tennis courts and a stable. She remembered then that one of Glen Dayton's business interests was raising thoroughbred race horses.

Angela trembled in anticipation. Joanne said she would talk to her father and the rest would be a mere formality. Still her heart leaped when he walked into the room.