"Hot to trot mother" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laver Brian)

CHAPTER ONE

Rose couldn't sleep. Although she'd spent the evening fucking, she was horny again. And the sounds of bedsprings creaking in the next room didn't help.

The next room was occupied by Ted, Rose's son. Ever since her husband had died years before it had been just Rose and Ted, alone together. And now that Ted was a strapping boy of sixteen, he was beginning to make his mother's horniness worse.

Rose, at thirty-five, was a gorgeous and sexy lady. Her slim figure was every bit as nice now as it had been twenty years before. Her face was classic, and her auburn hair radiant.

But she lacked what she needed to be truly satisfied: a good man. Sure, she had plenty of guys chasing her. And once a week or so she would let one of them catch her long enough for some fucking.

But her standards were high. And in a small town like Greenpeak there were only so many candidates.

So Rose dedicated her life to her son, working hard at her job as secretary, and fucking her brains out every week or so.

But lately her horniness was getting worse. She didn't know for sure, but she suspected that it might be due to the constant exposure to her son, who had become a beautiful specimen of male virility in the last year.

Now, every time she noticed a lump in Ted's jeans, indicating a hard-on, her cunt would juice up and her tits would ache to be squeezed.

So when Rose heard the familiar sounds of Ted's bed creaking to the rhythm of masturbation, her body geared up for sex. She had never been able to join her son in mutual, self-induced pleasure.

Since a woman can jerk off with less commotion than a man, Ted never realized that his mother was doing the something he was doing.

Although Rose's cunt was still tender from her date with Jim, she grabbed her cunt.

The exciting odor of simmering pussy-juice came from beneath her covers as she parted the lips of her cunt with her fingers. Then her middle finger touched the tender inner lips of her cunt.

Rose shivered as her excitement grew.

Listening to the sounds of her son's bed squeaking, she pictured the scene in his room. She could almost see his big prick in his hand. She imagined that he was there in her bed with her. She pretended that it was his finger sliding up her cunt.

With one finger lodged high in her pussy, Rose grabbed one of her tits in her other hand.

With both hands working to inflame her, she was soon writhing and breathing deeply. She had her legs spread just as she would spread them when in bed with some guy. But now she preferred her imaginary incest to any of the guys she dated.

Her fingers pressed into the softness of her ample tit. The long and slender middle finger of her other hand reached higher up her cunt. Then she found the hard bud of her clit with her thumb.

With all her strategic points covered, Rose began to feel ecstasy rising within her.

"Ah-h-h-h-h," she whispered to herself.

Still listening to the creaking of her boy's bedsprings, Rose began wiggling her thumb on her clit.

The craklings next door were getting louder and more frantic. She could almost feel Ted's lust radiating through the wall. And her own lust was as great.

Arching her back, Rose began working harder on her jerking off. The finger she had reaching up her flowing cuntal chamber began stirring and wiggling. And she began rubbing her clit harder.

She even pushed her tit up toward her face and lifted her head so she could meet her erect nipple with her tongue.

By this time the bed-creaking was at its peak. And Rose tried to picture how her son looked as he spilled jism over his belly in ecstasy.

Her mouth watered at the thought of that cream that was going to waste in the next room.

But her hands and fingers and tongue were taking care of her lust. Just as the bedsprings in the next room quieted, Rose began to have a spectacular orgasm.

Her thumb was a blur on her clit as she writhed in wild passion. As her body shook, her tit escaped her grasp. That didn't bother her, though. She couldn't have been able to continue sucking it, because her mouth was open wide and she was gasping desperately.

Rose had learned to come without making a sound. Although when fucking her boy friend, she would howl with abandon. Once, she had forgotten herself and moaned wantonly while jerking off, Ted had come to her door asking if she were all right. Rose, in the middle of an orgasm, had to tell her son that she must have made those sounds in her sleep.

So now she shook with pleasure, but remained silent.

With her lust spent, Rose lay still, sucking the cunt-juice from her fingers and thinking about her son.

In a week's time, his wastepaper basket would be filled with wads of tissue stiff with dried jism. And every time Rose noticed that pile of tissues she would feel a longing deep in her gut.

When the flavor of her juice was gone from her fingers, Rose lay still in the silent house. She wondered about her perverted thoughts. She couldn't understand why her son should excite her so. Incest was a horrible thing, but there was no harm done. And she loved jerking off knowing that her son was doing the same thing right next door to her.