"The Smiths come together!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Frank)

CHAPTER FIVE

Patrick Smith was sitting naked on a bench in the boys' dressing room, playing with his eleven-inch prick and daydreaming about fucking every girl in the dance school. In his fantasy, all the girls were lined up on their hands and knees on the polished wood floor of the dance studio, their naked asses turned up so he could see both their assholes and pussies. And be was walking around, sniffing the air, stroking his cock, trying to decide which pussy or asshole to fuck first. Each girl was wiggling her ass and watching him over her shoulder, begging for him to fuck her first.

"Patrick? Patrick, darling? Are you still here, my pet?"

Patrick nearly hit the ceiling at the sound of his mother's voice. He grabbed his tights and stretched them up his long, muscular legs, then tucked his rigid cock down one leg of them.

"Patrick, answer me. Are you in the dressing room, darling?"

"Yes, Mother, I'm still here, doing a little extra stretching."

"May I come in?"

"Yes." Patrick quickly sat on the floor, his legs straight out in front of him, and leaned forward, grabbing his heels as he pulled his chin to his knees.

His mother stepped around the corner and into the room. "Darling, I've been looking for you. We must spend the night here, darling – you and I. The blizzard is too severe for travel. I've been on the phone, informing your father and Susanne – who have made it home safely – that you and I will not be joining them tonight."

Patrick glanced up. His mother was dressed in cellophane-thin leotards that he could almost see through. Her feet were bare. He could see the darker color of her nipples through the thin, elastic material. She had big tits, which always made his cock throb and tingle when he imagined them naked.

"How long have you been here, Mother? I thought you'd left a long time ago."

"I never left, darling. I've been in the office, looking over some paperwork."

"We're here alone, then?"

"Yes, darling. I just ushered out the last two girls, Wendy and Cynthia. I do hope they make it home in this storm. I'm sure they will. Both live within six blocks."

Patrick flushed. He hoped his mother hadn't heard him and the two girls making out in the dance studio.

"I thought everybody but me had left a long time ago," he said.

"So did I," Greta said. "But when I opened the office door, there were Cynthia and Wendy, bundled up like two Eskimos and just on their way out. When they saw me, they stopped giggling and went red in the face. Then they ran out. Silly girls! Am I that terrifying, darling?" Greta laughed and reached down to stroke her son's thick hair.

"You know how girls are," Patrick said. "Don't ask me to figure them out. So, what are we gonna do here all evening? Where are we gonna sleep?"

"I've kept sleeping bags stored here for just such an emergency," Greta said. "We can pretend we're camping. And as to keeping busy – we can dance, we can massage. I haven't had time myself to dance in so long, and your legs I'm sure can use a massage." She reached for Patrick's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Come, darling, to the studio."

Patrick couldn't figure his mother out. She was acting strange this evening, almost drunk. She wasn't drunk, though. He couldn't smell any alcohol on her breath. He felt weird as his mother led him to the dance studio as if he and she were about to go onstage.

At the same time, though, he felt excited. His mother's touch, her moist, warm hands, sent thrills through him. His cock remained hard as stone, throbbing down one leg of his tights and oozing a few drops of warm lube against his leg.

"We shall dance the pax de deux you and Candace Wilson have been rehearsing," Greta said. "We need no music. We shall dance to the synchronized beating of our hearts."

Patrick was beginning to fear his mother had lost her marbles, or that she was going prematurely senile. Just before they stepped onto the dance floor, she reached back and pulled the pin out of her hair. She shook her head and her golden hair tumbled down her back, reaching nearly to her ass. Patrick had never seen his mother look so beautiful, or so sexy.

"You oughta let your hair dawn more often, Mother. It makes you look years younger."

Greta laughed, her face flushing rosily. "You mean I look your age with my hair down? Or perhaps I look even younger, like your sister."

"You look like a beautiful woman," Patrick said.

"Thank you, darling." Greta kissed him on the check and pulled him out onto the dance floor. "Pretend we have an audience of thousands."

As soon as he started dancing, Patrick lost all his misgivings about his mother's sanity. As he performed high kicks, his toes pointed, as he pirouetted and leaped, as he balanced and supported, lifted and caught his prima ballerina, he forgot completely that she was his own mother. She looked like a Goddess to him. She looked like the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. The sight of her excited him, energized him.

His cock nearly ripped through his tights as it strained to break free and stand fully erect. Dancing had always turned him on something fierce, and dancing with a female turned him on even more. As he caught and supported his mother, he held her tighter and closer than was necessary, pressing his cock against her hip, against her leg, against her ass. And she seemed to press closer to him than was necessary – the way Candy did when she wanted to be fucked.

Greta's heart pounded wildly. She was not in the best condition, that was for sure, but her wildly pounding heart came as much from her excitement at dancing with Patrick as from her lack of stamina. Her body trembled. At times her legs felt rubbery, and she was grateful for Patrick's strong arms. Her leotards were becoming sopping wet between her thighs as her pussy throbbed.

Take me, darling, she kept thinking – wishing Patrick could read her mind. Oh darling, I want you, I need you!

I've completely lost my mind, she thought. I should be locked in an asylum. But I can't help myself. I want him! I must have him!

The pax de deux ended. Sweat trickled down bath their faces. The smell of Patrick's sweaty armpits and Greta's hot cunt perfumed the air. They were both panting.

"You dance beautifully," Patrick said. "You should still be performing."

"Thank you," Greta said. "But I'm too old for the rigors of performing. I no longer have the elasticity of muscle and connective tissue of you young people. Besides, I do love to teach. Come, it's time for your massage."

The small, dimly lit cubicle that served as a massage room was much warmer than the studio. The air smelled of liniment and scented massage oils – wintergreen and rosemary, lemon and mint. Greta sealed the door and told Patrick to lie on the table.

"Darling, you must remove your tights. How am I to spread oil on your skin otherwise?"

"Darling, I'm your mother. I saw you naked the day you were born. You must not be shy."

Keeping his back to his mother, Patrick quickly peeled off his tights and slid up onto the massage table without turning around so she could see his cock. He lay face-down on the sheet, his cock as big as an arm under him, its fist-sized knob burning against his stomach.

It is customary to begin Swedish massage with the patient lying on his back, Greta was tempted to say, but then she decided not to rush things. She would get Patrick turned over eventually. For now, she would content herself with the sight of his bare ass and his enormous, hairless balls, which could be seen between his sprawled legs.

"Rein, my pet."

Greta squeezed oil into her hand, then spread the oil up the boy's hairless legs and onto his ass. Despite his strong, finely chiseled muscles, he had skin as smooth as a girl's. She spread oil on his back as well, then went to work massaging him.

Patrick pressed his cock hard against the padded table top, getting the sheet wet and slick with his cock-lube. The sensations that went through his body at the touch of his mother's warm, soft hands made him want to rub off against the table. Her hands thrilled him much more than the strong, rough hands of the young man who routinely came in to massage him and the other boys. Karl's fingers penetrated his muscles too deeply at times, making Patrick wince and complain. His mother's hands made him moan and melt.

He sighed. "Mother, that's wonderful! You ought to take over Karl's job. He's a sadist compared to you."

"I'm glad you do not consider me a sadist," Greta said with a laugh. "You have the softest skin, darling, and the most supple muscles."

She ran her hands up and down the boy's legs, gently kneaded his calves, his thighs, his firm buns. She pressed her fingers into the muscles of his lower back, massaged his upper back and shoulders.

Greta wanted to lean over and lick her son, to bite his flesh. She wanted to eat him. She had never in her life lusted this way over any other male. She massaged his feet, then kissed them, tempted to chew on his toes.

"Darling, you must turn over now."

"That's all right," Patrick said. "I've had enough."

"Darling, you must turn over." Greta used the tone of voice she'd always used with her children to communicate that she was giving an order which must be obeyed.

"Yes, ma'am," Patrick said. He knew he had no choice.

Holding his breath, keeping his eyes closed, sucking in his stomach as if trying to make his cock recede into his slender loins, Patrick flipped over. He settled back, his legs spread, his hands clasped behind his neck. His gigantic hard-on was pulsating wildly.

"You have a magnificent body," Greta said, "so slim and sleek, so muscular. You could pose for sculpture."

Patrick slowly let out his breath. His entire body was flushed and hot. As his mother began to spread warm oil up the fronts of his legs, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Relax, darling," Greta said.

The boy was trembling, quivering from head to toes. His muscles felt like living creatures under his skin. Sweat trickled from his armpits. The muscles of his chest and stomach stood out as if carved in stone. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. His cock towered up from his groin. Close-up, his cock appeared even larger to Greta than it had appeared through the glass of the two-way mirror.

Greta's hands shook as she stroked up the boy's legs, shook as she rippled her fingers over his belly muscles. He shuddered as she stroked his nipples and worked her fingers down into his armpits. She was leaning close over him, almost close enough to kiss him. The masculine scent of his armpits made her head swim.

She quickly moved back to the other end of the table before she lost all control and threw herself on her naked son.

He arched up, stretching, pointing his toes as Greta massaged his feet. His cock swelled even longer and thicker, its foreskin completely stretched back off its knob, its veins bulging, his egg-sized balls squirming slowly in their hairless sac. Greta braced his sole against her lower belly as she stroked his toes. His heel was pressed to her pussy-mound. She was shaking so much she could hardly coordinate the movements of her hands. Suddenly, she could not control herself a moment longer. She leaned over and started sucking on her son's toes.

Patrick gasped. His eyes opened and he watched with shock and fascination as his heavily breathing mother, her blonde hair fallen forward over her face, chewed and sucked on his toes as if they'd been dipped in honey. Her hot lips and tongue sent such thrills through his toes and feet, thrills that shot simultaneously through his cock, that he grabbed his cock and started pumping it, sliding his tight foreskin up and down.

"Feels good," he whispered. "Mmmmn, yeahhhh!"

Greta drooled, her spit running down her son's feet. She licked the spit off his muscular insteps, licked his soles and between his toes. Her pussy was throbbing madly, and she thrust her hand between her legs and started groping her crotch through her leotards.

"Oh, my darling!" she rasped. "I want you!"

"Take off your clothes," Patrick said. "I wanna see you naked."

"Yes," Greta said. "Of course, darling."

Without looking at the boy, she stepped back, unsnapped her leotards and peeled them off. Her tits felt enormous and heavy as she leaned forward. She straightened up and stood naked before her son.

"Wow!" he moaned. "Oh wow!"

He jacked his cock as he looked her up and down, and Greta stood there, letting him admire her, letting him lust at the sight of her naked body and jack himself off shamelessly in front of her.

"I could shoot off just looking at you," Patrick said. Though he'd fucked dozens of girls, he'd never in his life encountered a fully mature, stark-naked woman's flesh. His mother looked good enough to eat. He licked his lips, his face flushed, his eyes glazed with lust. "What a body! What tits!"

Now what? Greta thought. She'd gone this far, but now she didn't know what to do next, especially with Patrick watching her and making her feel self-conscious. She felt ignorant and incompetent. She realized suddenly that she knew almost nothing about sex. She had always been the passive one, letting Morgan be the guide, lying passively under him while he did what he wanted with her, as if she were an inanimate doll he was playing with.

Patrick's hand quickened on his cock. His eyes rolled back with a look of ecstasy. He panted shallowly, rapidly. He was about to come, Greta realized, and she lunged toward him and pulled his hand away from his cock, hoping she was not too late. The boy fell back, his loins thrusting, his huge cock flexing wildly and spurting blobs of creamy cum onto his stomach.

"Thanks," the boy panted as he calmed down. "I guess I got carried away. I really didn't want to come yet. It's just that you're so beautiful, you're so hot. I could…" His voice trailed off.

Greta leaned over and kissed him, stroking his checks, his blond hair. Patrick wrapped his arms round her head, groaning as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, as he rubbed his chest against her hot, silky-skinned tits. Her spit ran into his mouth and he swallowed it. They kissed and kissed, and pussy-juice ran down Greta's legs.

"Darling, I don't know what to do next," Greta said. She kissed the boy all over his handsome face. "I'm at a loss."

"I don't know what to do first," Patrick said. "I'd like to do about a hundred things." He kissed her neck, sucking up a mouthful of flesh and making Greta tingle all over with excitement. He licked his way down her tits and sucked on her nipples.

Greta gasped. She thought she'd die. Her cunt contracted fiercely with each suck of the boy's hot lips, with each flick of his tongue across her nipples. She groped her pussy and started finger fucking herself.

"I love your tits," Patrick growled. "I love all of you." He licked her tits, her belly, her moist, shaved armpits. He licked out her navel, then slid off the table and fell to his knees at her feet. He pressed his nose and lips to her bushy blonde cunt-muff. "I adore you!"

Greta felt like a Goddess. She sat against the edge of the table for support, stroking her son's silky, golden hair as he nuzzled and kissed her furry pussy. As he nuzzled deeper between her thighs, she sat up onto the table and spread her legs wide. The boy stretched apart her pussylips with his thumbs and kissed her naked, sizzling cunt-meat. Her pussy contracted and her hot fuck-juices dribbled out into the boy's mouth and down his chin. He sucked greedily.

"Oh, my angel!" Greta kicked her legs up, splitting them fully resting her heels on the table. She leaned back slightly, supporting herself with her hands behind her. Her tits heaved from her panting as her son rubbed his nose and lips between her pussylips. "Oh, my darling, yes!"

Patrick sucked his mother's burning, super tasty pussy. She had a wonderfully ripe flavor, like a good wine. He sucked her clit which was as thick and firm as the tip of his little finger. Her clit quivered and wiggled as his lips smacked around it. His mother's toes curled when he chewed on her clit and she groaned as if he were torturing her. He rammed his tongue up her pussy-hole to lick her out as deep as he could. He didn't dare touch his cock for fear that he'd lose his cum-load.

Greta writhed. She'd never experienced such intense pleasure. She rubbed her ass against the tabletop and rubbed her crotch in her son's mouth. His tongue twisted inside her cunt-gash, sending itchy tingles swarming through her cunt and asshole, swarming throughout her loins. Her cunt contracted repeatedly around his probing tongue, and her toes clutched wildly. She was panting so rapidly that she was faint from hyperventilating.

"Angel! Oh, my angel! I am so so close! I urn going to explode any second! Oh, please, make me come!"

To Greta's surprise and dismay, the boy pulled his tongue out of her cunt and his face away from her crotch. Her frothy cunt-juices dripped from his chin. A few cunt-hairs stuck to his lips. He licked his lips and wiped off his face with his hand.

Then, before Greta could say a word, Patrick stood up, his enormous cock in his hand, and he moved closer to the table. She watched with fascination as he pressed his dripping cockhead against her open pussy and slipped it inside her. He grabbed her around the ass and pulled her firmly against him, fucking all eleven inches of his cock up her cunt. Greta almost fainted from the sensation.

"Ohhhhh, darrrrrling!" she moaned, her eyes rolling.

The boy crushed her in his arms, grinding his chest against her tits, madly kissing her all over the face and neck, stuffing his tongue in her mouth, wiggling and grinding his cock inside her pussy as she clung to him. She was almost unconscious with excitement and shock. His cock filled not only her cunt, but her womb as well. It felt as if a gigantic snake had crawled into her body. She could feel the swollen cockhead throbbing in the very heart of her guts. She trembled in her son's arms and clamped her legs around his loins. Her entire body pulsated with pleasure, as if her body had become the boy's thrill-saturated cock.

"You're such a hot woman!" Patrick muttered, slobbering such wet kisses on Greta's neck and shoulders that his spit ran down her flesh. "What tits!" He couldn't stop rubbing his chest against her spongy, enormously swollen tits. They were the biggest tits he'd ever pressed up against, and their hard, hot nipples seemed to give off electric shocks. "Man, I can hardly stand it!"

Greta was out of her mind. Her eyes overflowed with tears of lust. She squirmed in her son's arms, trying to rub every inch of her body against him, grinding her pussy on his cock. As he sucked at her neck and growled, she clawed his back, rocked her hips.

"Fuck me, my angel, fuck me!"

The boy cupped her asscheeks in his hands and began to swing his loins, to fuck his cock in and out of her sizzling, rhythmically contracting pussy-hole. Each time he fucked in, Greta pressed her calves against his asscheeks, helping him probe her pussy as deep as possible. She had her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he fucked her, as he made them both groan with ecstasy.

"Yes, my darling!" Greta panted. "I am so close again. I will come when you do, when you shoot your cum into me."

Patrick's heart hammered as he fucked his beautiful mother for the first time.

He hadn't been this excited since the first time he'd fucked a girl, or the first time he'd fucked his sister Susanne. Each thrust of his eleven-inch cock into the seething depths of his mother's cunt sent shockwaves through his cock, through his loins and asshole. His entire young body prickled with sensation. Sweat poured off his face as if he were dancing solo onstage before hundreds of people, poured off him and dripped on his mother's big tits. His mother groaned, adoringly lapping the salty sweat off his neck and cheeks.

"Your cock swells so huge inside me," Greta panted. "It becomes so hard I cannot stand it! Oh, my darling, fuck me deeper! Harder! Hurt me, angel, hurt me!"

Patrick growled, fucking so hard that he was jolting the massage table across the floor, nearly knocking it over and out from under her. To fuck her deeper, harder, he needed to get on top of her. Maintaining the penetrations of his cock in her cunt, he centered his mother better on the tabletop and climbed up on the table with her.

Then he bridged himself over her and fucked down into her, using not only the strength of his loins but the force of gravity as well. He crushed her to the tabletop, slamming and grinding his magnificent cock into her juice frothing cunt and taking her breath away.

"Angel!" he panted. "My precious baby!" He moaned, his eyes rolling with lust, his body saturated with pure fuck-sensations. He was fucking his mother so deep that he expected to see the head of his cock pop out of her mouth. His skin prickled from his scalp to his toes with zillions of electric tingles. Every cell of his fucking cock tingled and itched. His balls felt ready to explode.

Greta tossed her blonde head from side to side, delirious with fuck-lust and pleasure. She clawed Patrick's back, twisted her heels against his ass. Each slicing thrust of his cock into her cunt made her arch up against him and writhe, made her mouth gape as she moaned with ecstasy. She was so close to climaxing!

"Fuck me!" she cried. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

"Yeahhhhhh!" Patrick growled. "Fuck, yeahhhh!" He grunted with each cock-thrust, his body shaking. "Man, I can't hold it!"

Greta's loins tightened, nearly cramped as her spasms began. She sank her fingernails into Patrick's back, arched up against him, felt his cock flex powerfully inside her and shudder.

As his cum streamed into her, splashing in her womb like scalding milk, she nearly blacked out with excitement and sensation. She raked her fingernails down her son's back and writhed against him.

"Awwwww, mannnnnn!" the humping boy moaned, his eyes rolled back to show only their whites, his body jerking and shuddering with each ejaculation. "Ahhhhhh. Ahhhh!"

It felt like liquid fire shooting through Patrick's cock, liquid ecstasy. His toes clawed the tabletop. His cock swelled, hardened, flexed – swelled, hardened, flexed – pumping stream after stream of molten fuck-juice into his mother's squeezing, sucking pussy-hole. He felt warm, milking sensations through his spine and lower back, through his asshole and balls.

Greta had never seen such an expression of ecstasy on a boy's face. She had never experienced such ecstasy, herself. She clamped her arms and legs so fiercely around her bucking, quivering young son that she feared she'd crack his ribs.

"Fill me with your cum, my darling!" she moaned. "Oh, angel, squirt it! Oh, God!"

The boy had lots of cum to squirt.