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Robert Vickers: Her lover son

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Robert Vickers Her lover son

Her lover son: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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"That was really something. You got a tight cunt. About the tightest and hottest around here, Mrs. Jensen." Leaving her spread-legged on the floor, Mike stood and quickly began donning his uniform.

Joleen rubbed her clit and found it was still erect, needing attention. As she fingered it and relighted the fires of passion in her body, the woman said, "Do you have to go right now, Mike? Couldn't you stay awhile longer?"

"Sorry, lady. Not rain nor sleet nor snow can stop me from delivering junk mail. Or however that slogan goes. Have fun!" With that, Mike quickly left, still buttoning his shirt as he went out the door.

Joleen remained on the floor, fingering her clitoris. She sighed and leaned back, thrusting a finger up her cunt. Another ten minutes of finger-fucking herself and she climaxed again.

But it wasn't as good as having a man's cock inside her. Any man's cock.

CHAPTER TWO

Joleen dressed after getting off on her masturbation. She idly wondered if it would be possible to get the mailman to come on a regular basis… everyday, perhaps. The bored housewife discarded that idea right away. She knew it wasn't realistic to think that Mike whateverhisnamewas would provide her with the needed lift to get her out of her boring, dreary rut. Joleen remembered the old saying, "a rut is just a grave with the ends knocked out". She felt half-dead – until Mike had come along to relieve her boredom.

She poured a couple fingers of bourbon into her glass and swirled it around for a few seconds before downing the entire contents of the tumbler. Joleen felt the impact of the alcohol in her stomach. For a moment, her knees felt weak and watery, and she had to sit down.

After the dizziness passed, she reached for the bottle again. The rest of the day drifted by veiled in a haze of liquor and longing for a steel-hard cock shoved up her cunt.

Joleen fell asleep for a while and was awakened when her eighteen-year-old son came staggering in.

The woman rubbed bleary eyes and knew from the difficulty she had in focusing her eyes, she was still drunk. But if she was drunk, Larry Jensen was in even worse shape. Her son couldn't make it down the hall without bouncing off one wall and smashing into the other.

"Larry!" she snapped. "Where the hell have you been? It's three in the morning."

Her son's answer came out in a string like taffy being pulled. His words were slurred, and she knew he was stoned out of his head. "Uh, hi, Mom. I… I've been over at… a friend's… house." As an afterthought, he added, "We were… studying. You know?"

Joleen could smell the sweet, pungent odor of marijuana as Larry came into the room. His clothes would have to be fumigated to get rid of the smell.

"Don't lie to me. You've been over at Katherine's smoking dope." She was having some trouble making her own words come out in the proper order.

Joleen took a stiff drink from the half-filled glass on the table beside her chair. She longingly looked at the fluid. It was the last from the bottle of Benchmark. Even the cheap stuff was gone; she had finished all of it off a couple days ago.

"So, all right, I was. Big fucking deal. You hit the bottle, I… I take a hit off… a joint. What's the difference?" Larry flopped down on the floor in front of his drunk mother.

Joleen studied her son as if for the first time. He looked so much like Harold, yet acted so differently. Larry had his father's aquiline nose, the sharp features and flat facial planes. Long black hair and piercing black eyes the color of coal finished the picture. Right now, those eyes seemed to be fogged over.

Joleen couldn't say too much about that. She felt a bit on the foggy side herself. She had drained an entire quart of bourbon, and her body had done nothing but soak it up like a sponge and get her drunker than a lord.

Besides, the woman didn't really think smoking dope was all that bad. Larry's grades had been steadily going down, but Joleen thought that was due more to Katherine than anything else. Larry had run across the red-haired girl two months after school had begun. Joleen wasn't sure, but she thought that Larry had probably been a virgin up to that encounter.

Her mind began to wonder about Larry. He looked so much like Harold. Did he fuck as poorly as his father? Or would he have learned things from Katherine that would make him a better lover? Harold was too traditional in his lovemaking. The missionary position or nothing. A woman's place was in the home. A woman's place was under her man.

Joleen wouldn't have minded the unoriginal fucking if Harold had been much good at it. She suspected he saved his really expert stuff for those damned sexy stewardesses. Joleen was certain that Harold balled every one of them he could entice into bed with him. And he had lots of opportunities flying to Europe once a month in addition to the domestic flights.

"Aw, come on, Mom. What's the matter?" Larry had reached out and limply put a hand on his mother's thigh. Joleen looked into her son's eyes again and realized that her mind had been wandering.

"Nothing, Larry. Nothing's the matter." She pressed her hand on top of his, then squeezed. Unbidden, Larry's hand closed on her thigh, then began stroking back and forth. Tremors of anticipation surged through the brunette's body.

Joleen's hand traveled along Larry's brawny arm while her legs unconsciously drifted apart. Without even realizing what she was doing, she was offering her body to her own son!

The thought filtered through her boozedrenched mind, but she didn't care. Her body was telling her she needed a man. Larry was man. And she wanted him so badly!

Joleen slipped from the chair and onto the deep pile shag rug. Larry lay down beside her and ran a hand under her shirt. His hand felt cool, exciting. As he pressed against her naked flesh, Joleen began to unbutton his gaudy, embroidered shirt. The buttons quickly parted, and Larry wiggled out of the garment. He returned the favor, and Joleen was naked to the waist, too.

Larry mumbled something, then began sucking on Joleen's tit. The woman lay back on the rug and began to writhe sensuously. The feel of the soft carpet on her naked back, the wondrous sensation of Larry's wet mouth engulfing her tit, those were her universe. She felt her son's tongue start at the base of one of the creamy cones, then begin a slow, agonizing journey up the slope. He reached the summit after licking most of the soft flesh of the tit and leaving behind a glistening, saliva-drenched trail.

Joleen felt the tiny nipple begin to surge and fill with blood and her heart rate accelerated. Her nipple expanded with each beat of her heart until it was fully erect and feeling as if it would burst like a balloon.

Through the fog that covered her mind like a blanket came the faint message, "This isn't right!" Joleen ignored it. It felt so good, so damned good, having a man's mouth sucking at her tits. Larry's hands added to her stimulation and quickly pushed down any protest that Joleen might have tried to voice.

The woman felt her son's hand snake its way across her stomach, then under the waistband of her jeans. Like a miner digging for gold, Larry's hand plummeted downward until he found the soft mat of her cunt mound. His fingers began a gentle motion, slipping from one side to the other. Fingers laced through the coarse strands of pubic hair and then lightly pulled.

Joleen thought that she'd lose her mind from the sheer carnal delight that hurtled through her body. She never remembered Larry's fumbling to get her blue jeans off nor did she remember the stroking hands across her torn silk briefs. The horny woman did remember the finger crammed up her cunt.

She felt as if a knife had ripped into her belly. That slender digit made her buck and arch her back to shove it as far as she could up into the seething, liquid interior of her cunt.

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