J S Bradley
Mom going down

CHAPTER ONE

Monica stood in front of the stove and watched the bacon sizzle and sputter in the pan – six slices, all for Gil. She forked them over and pushed them aside to make room for the half-carton of eggs he'd eat before he left.

She sighed and pushed a lock of teak-brown hair from the side of her young-featured face. She wrapped the thin housecoat more tightly around her slim, curving body.

She made a mental note to fix the belt while Gil was out on the rig this time. It kept gaping open at the wrong times, and she was sure she'd shown her son her tits and cunt and, ass by now, all in bits and flashes, like a rank exhibitionist.

She tugged and sighed again, slipping the bacon from the pan to drain on a paper towel. She began the task of breaking eggs and felt that strange confusion of emotions run through her mind.

She was never certain how she should feel about Gil's being gone a month at a time, stuck all that way out into the Gulf on an oil rig.

It was a mixed blessing every time he left. She got lonely for him. But her sore cunt got a rest while he was gone, too.

Thinking about her pussy made her conscious of the itch and throb between her naked legs. That brought on a spasm of her tight, flaming asshole, and she let out a sound as if she'd just been burned by popping, hot grease.

She swore softly under her breath. It was when she felt this way that she was glad he was leaving. It was going to take her half a week to get her cunt and asshole back to normal after the hours of solid fucking he'd given her last night.

His big prick had drilled into her body again and again, as if probing for oil in her ass instead of in the Gulf. When he'd shot his first load up her cunt, it had been a gusher of white jism.

She put her hand to her lap and pressed inward against her sore twat with the heel of it. She let out another small sound. Yes, she was going to welcome the rest from his reaming cock this time, even if she did start getting horny before the first week was out.

"Hi, baby," he said, coming into the kitchen in his shorts. "Hey, come on back in here a minute. I've got a swell going-away present for you."

She turned and looked at him with a half-fearful expression in her eyes. He nodded his head toward the bedroom and grinned lecherously. She saw the thick, stocky build of him, the sandy hair, the blocky face. She also saw the rod-shaped length of his heavy cock thickening inside his shorts.

Her cunt spasmed again. "Oh, Gil!" she moaned. "Not again – no, honey! I-I've got your eggs on already. Gil…"

He came up to his and wrapped a thick, strong arm about her slender waist and pulled her body against his barrel chest as if she were a rag doll.

Her firm, pointed tits mashed against him. His mat of chest hair scratched the tender nipples he'd sucked two inches longer than normal last night. The thin garment offered no protection against their sensitivity.

He lifted a big hand and cupped the end of her tit and mauled it through the thin housecoat, rolling it over her chest, sweeping the other tit into the span of his gasp, then rolling both of them with the palm of his one hand.

"Pretty nice tits for an old broad like you," he grinned. "Firm and big, and they fill the hand just light."

"Gil, stop – the eggs…"

"Fuck the eggs," he breathed heavily, pulling her against him again.

"Honey, this old broad's done in from last night still," she persisted, smiling in her pretty way to make a joke of it.

"Ah, thirty-five's not that old. Come on, baby, I'm gettin' a big one started here. Shit, I'm gonna be gone a Goddamn month again. Here, reach down and feel it."

She didn't have to reach down. She could already feel it. His cock swelled to full erection as he talked and squeezed her tits. He had his hands on the tight, round globes of her ass now, kneading them firmly.

He pulled her middle tightly against his own, completely covering her asscheeks with his palms. His prick throbbed and hammered insistently against her mound, and she could feel the pulses vibrate down to the full, tender lips of her sore cunt.

"Gil, stop it," she pleaded softly. She kept her voice down. She avoided the bruising kiss he was trying to give her. She glanced toward the kitchen door. "Bruce might come in and see you like this, trying to rape me in the kitchen," she smiled, still trying to keep it light.

Gil half snorted. "Do the kid good," he said, squeezing her asscheeks again. "Maybe if monkey saw, monkey'd do it to that cute little twat he keeps mooning over."

"Gil, don't start picking at him again. And don't call Nancy a little twat. She's a nice, pretty girl," Monica said reproachfully.

"The gals knew there was a big ready cock about to fuck 'em when they saw me coming down the street. The women, too," he grinned. "He'd better hurry up and stick that little twat, or I might just do it for him one day, just to show that girl all us Evans' aren't too stupid to know what to do with a wet pussy."

He started pushing her back into the bedroom. "Gil, the eggs are burning," Monica said quickly, her voice suddenly chilly.

She reached out for the spatula, ready to knee him in the balls if he didn't let go of her. She couldn't stand it when he talked that way, about what a big fucker he was. Particularly when he talked about shoving his heavy, thick prick into Nancy's cute little body.

It turned some women on to hear a man talk like that. Her twin sister, Vicky, for instance.

"Yeah, take 'em out," Gil said.

He didn't release her. He backed toward the stove and made her reach around his body. He grinned as she leaned against his thick chest and worked the eggs from the pan.

Her tits rolled and pressed against his body. Her cunt swiveled against his stiff cock, making the shaft even harder and thicker than it was already, and she knew she wasn't going to escape.

"You'd better eat them, honey," she said. She looked at the plate heaped with bacon and eggs and nearly gagged. She didn't know how he could eat so much. He wasn't really that big a man. Only stocky.

He laughed and dipped his head and started sucking at one tit he'd worked free of the housecoat.

"Gil!" Monica cried, glancing toward the doorway again, praying Bruce wouldn't come in and see this.

"You said to eat 'em," he ginned.

"Your eggs, you oaf!"

"Ahhhh, I'll eat 'em cold," he said, holding her tightly again. He lifted her up from the floor easily, carrying her as if she were a bouquet of flowers instead of a hundred-and-ten-pound woman.

"Gil…" she cried, looking over her shoulder, seeing the unmade bed loom larger and larger. Her cunt throbbed and reminded her of its soreness again.

"God, you're a little doll," he breathed huskily, his prick now jutting through the slit in his shorts, thick and full.

"Did-did I tell you that Vicky was coming to stay while you were gone this time, honey?" she said conversationally, even though it was clearly too late to divert him.

His prick pounded heatedly against her. "Vicky? Yeah? Staying here? Damn!"

He puffed a little harder. Monica could have kicked herself. After so many years, she'd forgotten how blatantly and unashamedly Gil's tongue hung out when her twin sister was around. She'd never understood it. They looked exactly alike. Yet, Vicky had that effect on all men, and she didn't. It was more than looks. It was something that oozed from Vicky, like the scent from a filly in constant heat. It screamed "Fuck me!" to the whole world.

Gil kicked the door shut. He carried her to the bed. He laid her out on it and gazed down on her with eyes brimming with lust and a cock that wouldn't stop pounding and throbbing now.

"Vicky, huh?" he said again. "Now, why would you go and invite her to stay just when I'm leaving for a month? Old Stan's been buried a good six weeks now, and that sister of yours has got to be screaming for a big fat prick to fuck by now. What good's it gonna do her with me way out on the rig and her here? Baby, you gotta plan things better than that!"

"You horny Goddamn bastard," she growled at him, pushing at his chest, thoroughly fed up with him now.

He laughed and wrestled gently against her full strength until she panted and gave up. It was no use to try to resist him physically – no use at all. Her robe had come apart, baring her tits and one lip of her cunt and the trim length of one thigh, but she didn't even care right then.

He gazed down on her near nudity and stopped laughing. His face changed, acquiring an expression of odd tenderness. He looked at her body as if seeing it for the first time.

"Honey, you're some old broad," he said softly.

It was a statement of pure affection for her. His way of saying it. She watched him and felt her emotions tip the other way, and she knew that she would miss him.

He stripped off his shorts. He put his hands out and slipped her robe all the way open and looked her up and down. He came onto the bed, making the mattress tilt under his weight. She rolled against his naked hip.

His prick reached for the ceiling, as stiff and hard as she'd ever seen it. Oddly, by some magic kind of chemistry, she knew it was all for her.

She felt sorry for him suddenly. He was going to get terribly horny out on the rig. He claimed they stayed out there the whole month, but she didn't know if she believed that or not.

Actually, it was all she wanted to believe. She didn't want to know if they went into one of the little Gulf towns to get drunk and fuck horny pricks into whores on the weekends. She might care if she knew for sure.

Thinking about it would make her feel cheated somehow, and that was a dangerous feeling. So, as if it would somehow keep him from getting horny for the next month, she reached for his straining prick and parted her thighs and was determined to fuck his nuts dry before he left.

He put his hand out and touched her body with surprising tenderness. His palm smoothed up the length of her trim thigh. His fingertips teased at her cuntlips, slipped over her clit, smoothed up her flat tummy to her firm tits, more like a teenager's like Nancy's than like a mature woman's tits.

Despite herself, she felt a slight stirring inside her body. Her cunt squirmed deep inside and went loose for a moment. She felt her thighs part even wider for the probing search of his finger.

He rolled her cuntlips, sweeping along the tender, pink, slick inner tissues, rimming her cuntal mouth. He slid it up her satiny gap to her clit and pressed inward gently.

He rolled the little organ until it was hard and sensitive. He grinned when she panted, and his prick throbbed rigidly when he saw the slick sheen of warm pussy juice come sliding from the mouth of her cunt.

"Like that, huh? They all like getting fingered. When you've got a fat finger like mine, they think it's a prick, and they try to fuck their wet cunts down over it."

A cool wind blew through her again. "Damn it, Gil, don't talk. Don't say things like…"

"Can't wait, huh?" he grinned, his voice husky.

As usual, he'd wholly misinterpreted her feelings. It was the one thing she couldn't stand about him. He was insensitive and just Goddamn crude. Not at all like their son, Bruce, thankfully. She didn't know if she could stand having both of them being the way Gil was.

He climbed over her, panting with passion. He worked his stocky body between her tender, slim thighs. He dipped his hips and made his raging prick point toward the center of her cunt.

The pink, wet mouth sucked open with a sticky sound – the slurp of a well-fucked cunt after a night's rest. The puffy pussylips spread apart as if they'd been trained to at the sight of his pulsing, swollen cockhead.

He dipped his hips again and made the velvety mushroom of his cockhead nose into the soft folds of her cuntal mouth. Then he couldn't hold back and tease her with it any more.

He plowed into her pussy. His thick prick slid up her cunt and shoved all the way to the back of her tunnel, slipping through the warm juice and the silky tissues.

"Ahhhh, God!" he gasped heatedly.

He came against her fully, his chest settling over her swollen tits, his belly grazing the flat plane of her own stomach. Her pussylips clung to the sides of his dry shaft, and the tissues were pulled inward, making her wince from the soreness.

He began fucking. In and out, up and down, his hard prick impatient and unbelievably hard. Monica gasped and wrapped her arms around his broad back and twinged with each slide of his stiff cock along her sore, fucked-out cunt tunnel.

"Ohhhh, Gil – Gil…" she moaned.

"Baby! Monica! God, you've got the most fuckable cunt anywhere! I love you, honey!"

She bit her lower lip. She couldn't ask him to stop now. She braced herself and rocked with his plunging thrusts and felt his prick stretch and pound inside her cunt and slide back and forth, reaching bottom, slipping back nearly to the mouth of her flaming pussy, then plowing in again.

His hips beat up and down upon hers, gently at first, and then more avidly as he got closer to coming.

His big hands mauled over her tits, rolling them, pinching the distended nipples. Then they scooped under her back and down to her round, tight asscheeks, and he fairly lifted her drenched cunt up around the shaft of his cock.

Her thighs split wide open and wrapped around his hips. She felt him heaving up and down. Her hand slid to his ass, and she felt the sturdy hairiness of it.

"Baby!" he gasped again. His wet lips became plastered against her cheek, and he puffed through the nostrils with hot breath. "Honey, you gonna come?" he gasped.

"You go ahead, Gil!"

"Come with me, baby! Blow your nuts! What're you gonna do for a whole month if you don't blow your nuts now!"

"I'll be all right, Gil! Ohhh, darling – fuck it into me! Fill my cunt up again! Give me another gusher, Gil!"

"Ohhhh, man – the best! The fuckin' best!"

Monica felt him build up steam. She knew he was going to come hard. She braced herself for the grinding, growling blast, clinging to him, nearly hanging from him.

It was all his fuck. There'd been a moment of heat for her, when he'd been rolling her clit, but that was gone now. It was all for him.

She made her cunt walls squeeze around his big prick. She sucked inward with her cunt and rocked her hips and shook her ass in his big hands.

She made her silky, wet cunt tunnel slide along his shaking shaft and milk it. The soreness was masked by a dull throb, and she knew the sooner he blasted his charge of hot cum into her pussy, the sooner the abrasion of her cunt walls would be over with.

"Ah! Ah, God! Monica! Jesus, what a cunt! God, honey, you're the best fuck in the whole world, I swear it! And I love you besides! Christ! Ohhhh…"

He grunted and gasped. His hips and ass circled and pumped, making his rigid cock fuck deeper and deeper into her silk-lined pussy.

Somehow, though, over all the puffing and grunting in her ear, she heard Bruce outside the bedroom door, and she sucked in her breath and wanted to crawl under the bed with shame.

"Mom? Hey, Mom? What's all this bacon and eggs out here? Can I eat some? I gotta get to school. Mom?"

Monica gasped and clamped her hands over Gil's heaving ass, trying to get him to quit, wanting him to shut up.

He stopped. He lifted his head. He swore softly, still panting. "Go eat the Goddamn eggs!" he growled.

"Gil, don't…" Monica whispered.

"Don't, hell," Gil growled at her. His prick throbbed wildly inside her cunt, spurting out little drops that mingled with her wet pussy juice.

"Oh, Gil – he knows you're fucking me! Ohhhh, God! I want to stop, Gil! Ohhh, I'm so embarrassed!"

"Stop! Like hell! He doesn't know we're fucking. Christ, the little pansy could walk in and watch us and think we were wrestling. Stop, shit. Baby, nothing can stop the wad I've got in my balls right now. Ohhh, God – here it comes, baby! Catch! Drink it all up with your thirsty cunt!"

"Gil – Gil," she gasped.

He pulled at her asscheeks again and made her wet, split-open cunt squish up around his cock.

He plowed all the way to the back of her cunt tunnel and began fucking her furiously again, building himself back to the point where he'd been.

Her pussy twitched and spasmed around his prick. She gasped and moaned. Her nipples thrust stiffly from the ends of her tits and punched against his heavy chest.

She couldn't believe the immediate transformation in her body. Every nerve ending had come to screaming life. Every part of her attention was on the thrusting cock reaming into her split cunt and the sensations it was causing.

At the same time, she was totally aware of Bruce's presence on the other side of the door and the fact that he must know that his mother was flat on her back being fucked.

Gil had started panting and growling again. She tried to keep him quiet. She couldn't. She couldn't keep quiet herself. She had never felt so open, so wanton.

"Gil! Gil!" she gasped. "Ohhhh, stop! We've got to stop! He can hear us! Ohhhh, stop!" she panted.

"Ahhhhh!" he growled, pounding into her cunt with his pile-driver prick.

Monica squeezed her eyes shut. She heard a thin sound from far off. She didn't know what it was for a long moment. And then she knew it was herself.

Her hips swiveled and bucked. Her ass rolled in his hands. Her pussy tunnel flapped and sucked brazenly around his cock like the whoriest cunt there was.

Her body was aflame. He was bucking and throbbing inside her, and she was responding totally – all the while knowing that Bruce might be listening, wondering, imagining, visualizing, wanting.

"Eeeee!" she squealed, her voice high and thin.

"Oh, baby – baby!" Gil grabbed her tightly, overjoyed that she had decided to come with him after all.

"Gil! God! Eeeee-aaaaah!"

She clamped her arms tightly around his sturdy back and clung to him and let her body shudder and pulse with violent waves of throbbing orgasm.

Her pussy sucked and milked his cock, the tissues becoming a cavern of oiled silk, hot and frictionlessly slippery with the flood of juice pouring from her cunt walls.

It was more than he could bear. He lunged against her and planted his prick deep and let it explode with a mighty blast of hot white cum.

"Yaaaag!" he bellowed, squeezing the breath out of her lungs as he bucked and ground against her.

They both panted and gasped and squealed and growled, and she was aware of every sound, knowing they wept right through the door into Bruce's young ears. Even the bed was rattling and squeaking and making their wild climaxes obvious to an idiot, which Bruce certainly wasn't.

Gil rolled her and tossed her. She was under him one moment, on top of him the next, then under him again. His hips pounded into her spread thighs, and his cock hosed and spurted until her wet cunt wouldn't hold any more.

Jism and cunt juice squirted between her cuntlips and bathed their thighs. Puddles were blotted on the bed as they rolled back and forth through them.

"God! God, baby!" Gil gasped finally.

He grinned from ear to ear. He was totally happy, completely fucked out. She was glad for that. She was happy to give him a good sendoff. But she'd never felt so embarrassed in her life.

"Honey – let me go now," she said, trying to unravel herself from his bearish hug.

"What's your rush, baby? Mmmm, that feels good, just soaking in all that hot juice in your slick pussy. Hey, come on – what's your rush?"

"I've got to get Bruce off to school."

"Ah, he can get himself off." He grinned, making a crude pun of it, giving her tit a tweak at the same time.

"Please, Gil?" she said firmly.

He looked at her a moment, then released her. He slipped his prick from her wet cunt. Juice slid out with it. His cock was limp and tame now.

"Mothers," he said with a shake of his head. His voice was gruff, but he gave her an affectionate smile all the same.

Monica stood up. Cum slipped from deep inside her cunt and clung to her pussylips. She squatted slightly and cupped her palm under her crotch and caught the string of jism just as it fell. She went into the bathroom and washed it off her hand and mopped at her sodden twat.

She came back out and slipped her housecoat back on. Gil was lying on his back with his eyes closed and his dick flopped over onto his thigh. He looked ready to go back to sleep and forget going to the rig.

She left him. He was a big boy. Besides, there was no real hurry. She wrapped the garment around her hips and went out the door, half-ashamed to see her son, afraid that she wouldn't be able to look him straight in the eye after such noisy, obvious fucking.

"Hey, Mom – I was going to wear my checked jeans today. Are they in the washer or something?"

He came into the kitchen and looked at her. She looked back. He was wearing low-rise briefs and nothing else, and the pouch of them was very full.