"Her Foxy Mom" - читать интересную книгу автора (DeSantis M.)

Chapter 5

"Hiya, Charly."

"Oh, hi, Mom."

"What's wrong, babes – you sound down."

"Really?" She wished the shrug could show on the phone.

"Really," her mother answered. "I was getting a little worried about you last week. You seemed awfully down and pretty tensed up."

"Just exams, Mom." Exams and a good dose of Derek-dick. But that was a whole damned week ago.

"That's what I was hoping. But there aren't any exams coming up now. What's getting to you?"

"Nothing, really, Mom." And that was the problem: nothing was getting to her – especially in the line of good hard cock. And that had been on her mind a great deal in the week since Derek had shown her what fucking could really be like, how good it could really be.

"Well, you just stay loose, Charly. You'll be going to see your father next week. You always enjoy that. And then, when you get back, we'll plan out a vacation for ourselves. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine Mom. I'll be okay, really. Don't worry."

"If you say so, Charly. You're big girl, now."

Charlene almost giggled at that. Yes, she certainly was – big enough to get to her mother's lover, in fact.

"Okay, Mom."

"Listen, I'm going to be late tonight – about a half-hour or so. If Derek comes by early -"

"I'll take care of him, Mom."

"Thanks, babes. See you later."

"You bet."

Even as she hung up the phone and felt a little chill shoot through her at the idea of having Derek to herself for a full half-hour – And that's more than enough time! – she didn't even suspect how accurate her mother's last three words on the phone would prove.

Or how inadequate.

The doorbell chimed.

"Who is it?"

"Derek."

"Come in." To my parlor, said the spider to the big-dicked fly.

She opened the door, stepped to the side and waited for him to enter to the room. Closing the door, she leaned back against it and waited for his reaction.

She didn't have to wait very long.

"Hi, Charlene, is your – ulp!"

She let a seductive smile spread slowly over her face.

Derek couldn't believe what he was seeing. Charlene was semiwearing a mini-skirt she'd gotten when she was fourteen and a few inches shorter. Aside from reaching no farther than a third of the way down her lean thighs, the miniskirt hugged to her flesh as if it had started out intending to be a pair of hot-shorts and changed its mind halfway through. It was light beige, light cotton, and light transparent. The fact that she wore no panties beneath it was easily apparent; he could make out the silhouette of her delicious little cunt through the material.

Oh, that sweet little shit! Food! he thought, unconsciously licking his lips.

Charlene took a deep breath, causing him to move his eyes upwards and again examine the wonder of her covered – if not concealed – tits. She was wearing a tanktop. Like the miniskirt, it was originally fitted for a fourteen year-old Charlene.

But since then, she'd added three years of astonishing growth to her breasts. There was some of the creamy, silken tit-flesh curves that simply wouldn't be contained inside the top. So there was some overflow. And what didn't overflow wasn't exactly hidden, either. The tanktop was made of a very light, very flimsy cotton. Every marvelous nuance in the curves of her luscious tits was shown with perfect clarity through the material. From the dark spikes of her nipples to the sweet juncture of her breasts with rib cage, every detail was both revealed and hidden.

The sum effect was visible in Derek's eyes, in the hungry look on his face – and the long, stiff, throbbing bulge inside his trousers.

"My mother called," she said quietly, hands clasped behind her back – an attitude that made her tits thrust out towards him in brazen offering – "and she said she'd be a little late."

"Uh-huh." He seemed incapable of responding with anything more complicated.

Charlene let her smile widen slightly. She leaned forward till she was standing straight. Her legs were shoulder-width apart and she swung lightly forward and back. Just the merest quiver of a bobble was communicated to her breasts, making them shiver delightfully within the tight material of her tank top. Derek's eyes couldn't seem to decide whether to concentrate on the slow movements of her abundant young tits or the steady, sinuous rippling of her belly muscles beneath the tight tanktop, a rippling that made his mind picture her naked; flat on her back on her bed, legs widespread and shuddering, hips ratcheting up and down as a man – himself, of course – pumped in and out of her sweet, hot young pussy.

Cripes.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. Her long, titian hair cascaded down over her shoulder, curved outward to follow the thrust of her breast – accentuating their size and firmness.

"Huh?"

"You don't mind having me, uh, shall we say, 'entertain you'?" She straightened, brought her hands around to her sides and smiled at him like a little girl. "Just till my mother gets here I mean?"

"Uh, no, no, of course not."

"Good!" she said happily, clapping her hands sharply together. "Then first I should tell you to sit down."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." He let himself sink into the comfortable love seat – and then immediately slithered forward to perch on the edge as she walked towards him. He was nervous. When was Liz, her mother, coming home? He couldn't afford to have Liz catch them in anything even remotely resembling a compromising position.

She stopped about a half-pace in front of him. The love seat was built low to the floor, and when he looked up he found himself with a perspective on her lovely breasts that made them seem even larger than before.

He was very nearly at crotch level on her. He had a sudden urge to reach out with both hands, slide them up her legs and grasp her hips, raising the miniskirt even higher – and then begin feasting on the succulent morsel of her tasty cunt.

His cock gave a little extra leap inside his pants at the thought.

A leap that Charlene saw – and appreciated.

"Can I get you anything – to quench your thirst?" The way she pitched her voice in the asking, she made it more than obvious that the thirst-quencher menu wasn't limited to bottled drinks.

"Uh, a Scotch. Ice." he croaked, throat suddenly dry. He had to talk to the nubile woman-child, make it clear to her that what had happened the other day could never be allowed to reach her mother.

His eyes fastened onto the sight of her tight young ass cheeks, twitching and swaying through the miniskirt, as she walked away from him towards the kitchen.

She felt his eyes on her. Her already slavering pussy throbbed all the more urgently, as if it could smell his nearby lusts rising.

She poured him a stiff one – To match his prick – popped a couple of ice cubes into the smoky liquid and then sashayed back into the living room.

Charlene purposely moved her hand so their fingers would touch when he accepted the drink. He snatched his hand back as if burned, nearly spilling the drink on himself in the process.

She couldn't understand why he was so nervous, but she was enjoying the feeling of power it gave her. Did he think she was going to tell her mother they'd fucked the week before?

Charlene could just imagine that scene:

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Charly. What's new?"

"Not much." Her mother takes out the latest issue of Advertising Age and begins paging through it.

"Oh, Mom?"

"Yes, dear."

"I don't know if I remembered to mention it to you, but Derek and I fucked each other silly last week. In your bed."

"Oh, that's nice, dear. I hope you didn't make a mess of the bed linens."

"No, Mom."

"That's good." Her mother continues paging through the magazine.

"Something funny?"

Derek's voice brought her mind back to the moment. "Oh, no," she said quickly, wiping the smile from her face. "Why don't you sit back and get comfortable?"

"Yeah, sure – and uh, why don't you, too?"

She made as if to sit next to him – thoroughly enjoying the panic in his face – and then walked to the other side of the low-slung coffee table and sat in the matching love seat there.

Derek seemed to bye relaxing just a little bit. "Charlene," he began slowly, as though picking his words with the utmost care, "there's something I – cripes!"

The word was torn from him by what Charlene was doing – and exhibiting. She'd sat comfortably back in the love seat and calmly proceeded to cross her legs. The miniskirt, already indecently short, crawled up to somewhere in the vicinity of her hipbones – leaving her just this side of naked from the crotch down.

"Why, what in the world is the matter with you, Derek?" she asked, as if she hadn't the faintest idea.

"Why, you're – you – but I can see -"

"You can see what?" she cooed.

"Your, uh – you're showing me your pussy!" he finally blurted.

"So?" she demanded. "It's not as if you've never seen it before or kissed it – or licked it – or sucked it – or fucked it – or -"

"That was last week!"

"It's not exactly repulsing you, now, is it?" she teased, staring fixedly – and pointedly – at the throbbing lump at the crotch of his pants.

He didn't have an answer for that one.

Charlene raised her eyes to his and slowly uncrossed her long legs. She kicked off the flat thongs she'd been wearing and then raised her legs up and folded them till she was sitting cross-legged on the love seat. Her sweet little slit stared at Derek from across the low coffee table. Fringed with light, downy red hairs, the lips themselves glistening with the dew of her arousal, her gash looked like it was on fire – a firebox.

"Don't you like it now?" she asked.

Derek swallowed nosily. "Cripes," he breathed, leaning forward without consciously willing it to get a closer look. "Cripes," he repeated.

"Wouldn't you like to come on over here and say hello to my puss?" she asked, as if it were somehow dissociated from her.

"Jeez, yes," he whispered, lips dry.

"My puss sure has missed you," she continued, slipping one hand down over her trim waist to find and trace the flare of her nubile hips. The hand moved down to her thighs – and then she trailed one wellmanicured fingernail up over the sensitive flesh of her upper, inner thigh until it reached the flat crease where the thigh joined her crotch. There that single digit moved forlornly up and down, lightly caressing the outer edge of her swelling labia as if to console it. "You have no idea how badly my little puss has missed you. Why don't you want to come over here and kiss puss hello?"

Derek started to stand – and then caught himself. What if her mother came in while he was kissing her puss hello?

"Aw, poor little puss," Charlene crooned, looking down at her wideopen crotch. "All your hopes up and then he chickened out. Poor, poor little puss. I'll see if I can help puss a little bit."

And she proceeded to "help puss a little bit."

First, Charlene began tracing the end of that single fingertip around and around over the outermost edge of her fully swollen pussy lips. As she did so, the ache in her tits seemed to grow, become more severe, more demanding. She simply couldn't help bringing one hand up to rub the twin mounds of firm young flesh. She took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, tweaking the starting little spike through the material of her tanktop.

There was no way she could suppress the little twitch of her taut young hips.

She raised her eyes to see Derek's reaction. For all she could tell by looking at him, he might have been in a seizure. He didn't seem to be moving. He just sat there, staring at that single lonesome finger moving around and over the lips of her slit. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths beneath the little Izod alligator on his sport shirt and his prick rose and fell in sharp little jerks within the suddenly confining material of his pants.

Charlene began to spread her cunt lips, dipping just the tip of that finger inside barely far enough inside to wet it – and then lifted her finger to her lips. She sucked on that finger – but not until she'd first licked it with long, slow, sensuous wrigglings of her tongue

… as if it were a cock.

Derek groaned.

She did it again, this time thrusting the finger all the way inside and moving it around inside her. Her eyes closed at the feel of it and she could hear Derek's breath rasping through his teeth. She was getting even more turned on, knowing he was watching. Charlene had whacked herself off before – to be sure, almost daily since she'd turned eleven – but it had never given her so much pleasure. Knowing Derek was watching, knowing it was getting to him, only intensified the pleasure and excitement of it for her.

She worked that solitary finger in and out of her clutching pussy rapidly. Every time she thrust it inside, the heel of her thumb came up hard and flat against her clitoris, sending an additional shock of pleasure coursing through her body.

She forced her eyes open. Charlene saw Derek staring at her cunt, leaning forward so far he appeared on the verge of toppling forward onto the coffee table.

"Wouldn't you like to kiss puss?" she whispered to him, drawing out the sibilants till they were a soft, susurant hissss… as in kisssss.

He groaned again.

"Poor Derek," she said to her slash as she pulled the finger back till just the tip was still inside it. "We've given him a terrible hard-on. That isn't very nice now, is it, puss? Of course not. We wouldn't want Derek to think we were cock-teasers. He might never kiss and lick and suck and fuck puss again if he thought that."

She yanked the fingertip from her twat suddenly. It came out with a definite popping sound. She placed both hands on her hips.

"We have to do something for Derek."

Charlene got to her feet and strode quickly over to stand in front of Derek. The backs of her calves were pressing against the coffee table's edge. "Now you just sit back there, Derek," she said firmly, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and pushing him back on the love seat," and we'll take care of this little problem we've given you. After all, you must have a problem." She stared straight down at his cock bulge within his pants. "After all, you must have a problem -you're all swollen."

With the lithe grace of a fit seventeen-year-old, Charlene got to her knees. Her calves were beneath the coffee table and her hands were at the waist of his trousers. Her fingers moved deftly, despite her inexperience at such things, despite her eagerness. In a moment, his pants were opened and she was reaching inside the slit of his highfashion, blue-and-red striped briefs to find the long, thick, heavy length of his meat.

Derek watched, slack-jawed, as she thrust her hand into his groin and gurgled when Charlene's cool fingers began caressing and gripping his prick. He knew he should stop her, force her to cease and desist. But he couldn't make his lips move to say the words, couldn't bring his hands to grasp her wrist and pull her hand away from his achingly hard erection, couldn't make himself twist and shift away from her exquisite touch.

"C'mon, Derek," she whispered, her breath coming faster with anticipation of what was to come, "you have to help out some, too. Lift up now."

Numbly – except for the stiff prong between his legs – Derek did as she told him, lifting his hips from the love seat so Charlene could work the pants and briefs down off his torso. He let himself back down and Charlene pulled the constricting garments down about his ankles.

Once again, her fingers moved to the shaft arching out from the clump of thick, wiry, pubic hair between his muscular legs. Derek groaned deep in his throat as her hand closed on the overheated skin of his prick.

"Ummmm – looks just yummy," she breathed. She was holding his cock tightly in her fist and bent it forward until the pee-hole slit in the tip separation of the large, meaty, bifurcated glans was pointing at a spot right between her eyes.

Like a gun, ready to go off, she thought.

Charlene spread his legs and leaned forward, chin thrust forward and lips puckered. Gently, lightly, she pressed them to the tip of his cock staff in a soft kiss.

"Cripes," Derek breathed in an agonized voice.

Can't he say anything else?

She lifted his prick's angle back up towards its natural inclination, i.e., about forty-five degrees upwards, and began moving her soft, lush lips down the underswelling curve of the shaft. Charlene let her lips open just slightly and the tip of her tongue slipped between to tease and move on the tautly stretched skin of his rigid dick. Derek's hips jerked up and forward. He began slouching down on the loveseat, his legs opening still wider and his genitals inching towards her welcoming mouth.

Charlene's fist began moving up and down over his prick in short, sharp motions covering no more than an inch in either direction. Her lips were halfway down the underside of his cock, approaching the wrinkled sac at the base of the dark, swollen shaft when she again bent his cock's angle – this time to one side.

She had a whole new side of meat to work on.

Charlene fell on the left side of his shaft with the ardor of a starving woman suddenly offered food. This time she let her imagination roam – and followed it. Her jaws opened still wider. She began nipping the heavy bar of flesh with the utmost care between her even, gleaming white teeth – and just for variety, even now and then she fastened her full, soft young lips firmly to a section of cock and sucked. She really enjoyed Derek's reaction to that: not too different from a man in the first stages of coronary arrest.

By the time she moved his cock to the other side and began mouthing the right length of prick, Derek was slouching his hips so far forward that just the rearmost part of his hard muscled ass cheeks remained on the edge of the love seat. His thighs shook and his pelvis jerked in sharp little spasms of arousal.

Once more, she employed tongue, teeth and lips halfway down the side of his throbbing cock till her lips were brushing the edge of her clenched fist on his prick, and then she moved on back towards the tip of his prick.

Finally, Charlene started to force the stiffly swollen bar of cock flesh down, against its tendency to stand stiffly upwards at an angle from his groin. But it would literally go on so far that way – and no more. Rather than chance hurting him – and causing him to lose his wonderfully thick erection – Charlene instead straightened up.

Leaning forward over his penis, Charlene momentarily abandoned all use of lips and teeth – and concentrated instead on employing her agile tongue. Stiffening her mouth muscle till the tip was a hard little pointed flash of glistening pink, she shifted her grip on his dick till she was holding it down near the base with thumb and forefinger. She could feel his pubic rug against the daintily opened palm of her hand.

Slowly, with excruciating self-restraint, Charlene trilled her tongue-tip slowly down the length of his dick, then worked her way up till she reached the depressed little ring in the flesh just behind the bulbous glans. She felt his prick jerking and swelling beneath her tongue touch and knew she was having precisely the effect that she wanted to have: turning him on till he couldn't refuse her needs any longer.

Once more, she worked her tongue towards the base of his dick -but this time her strokes differed. This time, Charlene pressed her lascivious tongue against the upper flesh of his shaft till the pink muscle flattened on it. Licking in long, sensuous, drawn-out strokes, she attacked the heavy length of aroused flesh as though it were a popsicle of extraordinary size and taste and she had to hurry and finish it before it melted from the heat.

Derek's hand, visible to her from the corners of her eyes, were clenched into tight balls of fists.

Really got him going now, she thought elatedly – and then realized that she, herself, was also going pretty well.

Once more, she got herself a fist-grip on the shaft of his cock -noting, as she did so, how thick his prick was – and pressed her lips to the feverishly throbbing glans. But this time she pressed her head forward, moving the dick from side to side till her lips had been forced apart and the velvety flesh was rubbing from side to side across her even teeth.

Like brushing my teeth, she thought. If she could brush her teeth with a Derek-cock, she'd more than willingly brush after every meal -and snack – and in the morning – and at night – and even make excuses to brush!

She let the moving prick tip force her teeth open and then move between. Charlene fastened her lips to his shaft and for a moment did nothing beyond allowing the heat of her mouth to do its work on his cock.

"Oh, jeez, yeah, baby," Derek growled. His hands came down to grip the sides of her head, fingers twining into her rich titian tresses.

Charlene was, at that point, as thoroughly aroused as Derek. Her mouth was well filled with his glans. She could feel every fresh pulse of blood through it. She tightened her lips slightly and felt a surge of triumph at his reactions: a sudden surging of heat through his meat, a sudden lurching of his hips, a sudden tightening of the flesh of his well-filled scrotum.

Charlene began moving her tongue about the swollen chunk of male meat in her mouth, tasting it, savoring its thickness and softness and hardness at the same time. She turned her head slightly to one side, letting her teeth press against the side of his glans, then the other way. Her mouth filled with saliva. She swirled it about his cock head, bathing it with her spit.

Derek's fingers tightened convulsively at the sides of her head. He tugged her face forward and first an inch, then another of his prick sank into her mouth. She welcomed it – now she had just that much more cock to suck.

Charlene pulled her head back then, lips still tight about his prick. She felt the hard shaft sliding between them just as she had felt that same hard shaft sliding between her lower lips, the lips of her pussy, the week before. And strangely enough, the sensation seemed to excite her just as much as it had the week before.

His hands were pulling her head forward again, this time more strongly. Charlene didn't fight it until she felt the thick bulb of his glans pressing at the constriction in the back of her throat, felt herself starting to gag on the throbbing morsel. Then she jerked her head back from him – only to have him tug her forward once again.

The motion was repeated, over and over again, until Charlene's head was bobbing rapidly back and forth over the end of Derek's dick. His cock was becoming coated with her saliva. It gleamed beneath her whipping hair, gleamed almost as much as it throbbed.

Charlene could sense the juice rising inside him. The idea of having him explode in her mouth wasn't in the least repulsive. She wanted to drink the scum, to feel his sperm filling her mouth. She wanted to swallow his load and have it pour down into her heaving belly. The focus of her efforts was no longer to arouse him till he fucked her slavering twat. Now the aim of her act was to make him come, to give him pleasure and thus take her own. She knew she wouldn't get an orgasm for herself out of it, but the importance of that consideration had somehow receded into the back of her mind.

What she wanted now was to have her face fucked and fucked well.

Charlene tightened her already pursed lips still further and began varying her movement. She bounced her head rapidly back and forth -and then abruptly slowed, twisting part way around his cock, drawing back till just the very tip half of his glans was still trapped in her oral inferno, sucking on it till her cheeks concaved and she could feel the blood boiling inside it.

Suddenly, Derek groaned again. His fingers pressed the sides of her head, holding her mouth in place while his hips surged upwards, driving his cock into her mouth. She felt his prick swell and jerk in her mouth.

And then, suddenly, his cock exploded. Great gushing bursts of semen blew out of the tip of his prick and into her mouth. Stunned by the force and quantity of his first eruption, Charlene jerked her head back from his cock and took most of the second load in her face. But then she opened her lips wide and rapidly dipped her head forward, covering the tip of his dick with the cowl of her mouth.

Again and again he fired into her mouth – and Charlene sucked and swallowed as fast as she could. She drank him just as she'd wished to, taking all of his creamy load deep into her throat. She barely had time to taste it.

His spasms slowed, then stopped – but not Charlene. Her lips were still fastened tightly about his shrinking cock. She continued to suck it, coaxing one last, wrenching spasm of juice from Derek's balls before relinquishing the shriveling dong.

Charlene's eyes were half-closed, heavy-lidded. Watching his face, watching his expression in response to what she did, she gripped the limp member with one fist and began carefully licking the spermy residue from his glans and the shaft, working at cleaning it the way a thirsty kitten cleans her milk bowl. Semen was dripping heavily down her face, off her chin and onto her tanktop, staining it with abundant evidence of her cock-sucking expertise. Her lips were bright with it, and when she'd finally cleaned his cock thoroughly, Charlene began a slow and sensuous tracing of the tip of her tongue over her lushly pouting lips.

Derek's reaction almost broke her up: he merely stared, as if watching her grow another head.

But there was another reaction as well – especially when she slowly sucked the head of his limpened member back into her mouth. That reaction was a slight pulse of blood through his prick.

Suddenly, Charlene felt challenged – challenged to suck him back up to full erection immediately and coax yet another explosion of juice from his drained balls.

And just then, she heard a key in the doorlock.

This time, it was Charlene whose eyes widened. As she heard the tumblers clicking in the second of the door's three locks, she literally spit his prick tip out of her mouth and took her fist off it.

As the third lock was opened, Charlene started to stand, even as Derek struggled to get his pants and briefs back into place. Unfortunately for Charlene – and Derek, for that matter – she had been kneeling with her calves beneath the low-slung teak coffee table and standing abruptly caused it topple over with a loud crash. All of the items on top of it – magazines, two ashtrays, an ornate cigarette lighter, Derek's drink – went scattering noisily across the floor.

And Derek's feverish struggling to get his pants up caused his knees to come together, tripping her. Charlene staggered as she turned, then leapt nimbly to avoid tripping on the up-ended coffee table, finally twisted to miss landing on an ashtray.

She came to rest about four feet from her mother.

Her openmouthed, staring mother. Her mother whose color had drained to roughly the shade of chalk – and whose color was rapidly returning, roughly the shade of sunset thunderclouds.

Ominous and red.

Her mother's eyes flickered from Derek – rapidly stuffing limp, saliva-and-sperm-coated cock back into pants and zipping said pants up and Charlene, standing before her with flushed face, glistening lips, sperm-drenched cheeks and chin, sperm-stained tanktop and stiffly erected nipples. Not to mention Charlene's mini-microskirt which had gotten tangled with itself somehow on one side of her nubile hips, holding it high above and exposing her naked, pantyless slit.

Ooops.

What could she say?

Charlene knew there wasn't much she could say, certainly nothing that could conceal what had happened and certainly nothing that could make it any less of a shock to her mother than it already was.

So since there was only one thing Charlene could say, she took a deep breath, put a great big bright smile on her lovely, lusting face -or as near a thing to a smile as she could manage – and said, quite calmly:

"Hi, Mom."