Kit fingered her other dangling breast, clustering her fingers on, the rosy tip and drawing off He saw that, tongued the one out of his mouth and switched, gulping tit. He sucked hard and her nipple seemed to bore right into her throat.
The feel of having her breasts sucked excited Kit to jerking her hips. She needed a come, and right now, to calm herself for all the lovemaking they would have.
She whispered, "Sonny, stop! That will drive me crazy! Let me climb on you and get an orgasm. Then we can do anything, everything."
He nodded and relinquished a tit end so turgid that it looked like one of Myra's, the aureole a cone flowing into the finger-like nipple so imperceptibly that a hand could grip it. It was almost too big, an embarrassing display of the lasciviousness within her.
She switched about, meaning to throw a across him and ride his cock.
But on seeing it she lost control. She seized it in both hands and dropped to it, her mouth yawning.
She filled her mouth with cock.
"Mother!" he cried. "What are you-doing?"
Mother.
She was not a limber young girl dancing through the woods. She was his mother.
Sucking his cock.
He was shocked. But she could not stop. The fat cockhead in her mouth squished under her suction, a velvet-skinned sponginess, compressing until she felt the rigidity within. She licked the glans, swabbed it with the flat of her tongue while the point prodded her palate. She squeezed her fist on the swank and with her other hand scooped up his balls, kneading them and massaging the iron stem, licking and sucking the beautiful head.
"But Mother-" he said.
She tore her mouth from it, crying, "Sonny, I know I shouldn't, but women do. Women like it. Do you understand? Does it feel good to you?"
"Gosh, it makes me jerk all over. But I never thought-"
"Sonny, I have to. To show how much I love you.
A lie, she thought. Her lust now was apart from love. She had always liked cocksucking and now she again gobbled the swollen head, went down, down, swallowing the tip, working her mouth on the stem of it while massaging the base and his plump nuts.
His hips began heaving, driving the bony hardness into her oral cavity, fucking into her pulling, rhythmic suction. She continued munching, sucking, kneading the splendid column of meat towering from his loins.
She gulped off the knob and gazed at the Lit of red-purple flesh, the sharply defined rim, while licking underneath. A drop of fluid oozed from the split. She puckered her lips on it, kissing it, slowly sucking it into her mouth.
She licked down one side, tracing the bulging blue vein into the ruff of his pubic hair. She lipped the delicate skin of the scrotum, then fingered a plump testicle into her mouth.
Sonny groaned loudly as she rubbed the rampant cock against her cheek, licking up the saliva-slippery stem to the head. Her mouth yawned and, she consumed it with a gulp.
CHAPTER SIX
Lily's shock over seeing Sonny fucking his mother on the living room couch had lasted the night.
This morning rage had filled the vacuum of her incomprehension. She had the answer.
Kit was a hateful, shitty, unadulterated bitch and a selfish pig. She had guessed or somehow learned that Lily and Sonny were lovers, and jealousy had made her drag Sonny off yesterday and seduce him..
Two could play that game. Today, Sunday, Kit could probably keep him nailed down. But what about tomorrow, when she had to go to work?
From the kitchen window Lily saw Sonny mowing the lawn and Kit setting up the chaise lounge. Then Kit went to him, unknotting her bra neck cord so he would see her big tits lurch around. And smiling at him, dimpling, simpering, batting her eyes. The whore! Any woman could read the wiggling of her body, the way her hand rose up her curves to languorously brush hair from her eyes- Lily was making a cup of coffee for Daddy. She poured it, sugared it heavily the way he liked, and started out the door into the greenhouse.
She stopped. He had paused in his work and was staring at Kit. He stood in profile and Lily did not miss the tent pole lifting his shorts leg.
Bitter tears started from her eyes. Even Daddy!
She retreated to the kitchen. The coffee cup burned her hands. She thrust it down angrily on the drain board. Let him make his own coffee! She had already worked two hours in the greenhouse.
Her t-shirt was marked with dirt smudges on her titties. Sweat staked her skirt on the line of her ass cleft. Her hair was soggy. And Daddy was gazing at Kit, his cock stiff as a brick. Lily flicked a glance out the window. Kit was returning to her lounge chair, swaying, tits wobbling, a hand patting the hair back from her face. She looked fresh and clean and beautiful, and Sonny and Daddy were eye-eating her.
Oh, the fucking bitch!
Lily's impulse was to march out into the greenhouse and tell Daddy everything, at least to tell him Kit was a whoring bitch he should not waste time on.
No good. He would just turn sullen.
Then, beat Kit at her own game.
Lily's eyes grew wide at the thought. She moved again to the kitchen door and studied her father. He was still staring out at Kit, his eyes hot, heavy-lidded, his cock rigid. He stood as though rooted to the spot.
Nor would he get closer to her. She knew his attitude. He could not afford a woman like Kit. If she remained in view he would probably go indoors and take a cold shower, maybe read the Sunday paper until she was gone, then return to work.
Lily would fuss over him, make him a nice lunch, bring beer. He would forget Kit and their day would return to normal.
He hitched up his shorts, easing the material squeezing his erection, drew on his cigar, and continued staring across the hedge at the voluptuous redhead, who had just rolled her bikini bra down an inch.
Lily had to break the spell. She returned for the coffee, and as she entered the greenhouse called out, "I had to let it cool, it burned my hands."
He started at the sound of her voice. He twisted his torso away to hide the tent in his pants, and began moving the plant flat on the bench before him. She saw his cheek redden.
He was like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
And Lily began to appreciate her own relationship with her father. He did not want her to be aware of his lust. That meant he realized she was a person, not a child, that she might resent his hunger for the woman next door, might be jealous- Lily heard the whir, of the lawnmower but did not glance toward the sound. She had no desire to watch Sonny. Her attention was on her father's broad, bare back, the muscles rolling as he shoved the plant flat across the bench. She scanned his rocky buttocks. The shorts material was drawn into his ass cleft by the pull of the material stretched out in front. His legs bulged with muscle under curly black hair. He was forty but hard labor kept his body that of a young athlete.
She felt a damp squirminess in her crotch.
She thought of last night, peeping at Sonny and Kit fucking in their living room.
And why not? she thought. Why in hell not? Why let that bitch torment her father?
The remaining work was a tidying up after yesterday's transplanting, clumps of weak plants to be thinned and thriftily given a second chance, leftover soil to be sifted. Lily worked alongside her father, rubbing elbows, hips, accidentally touching his hands. She blocked the view of Kit. She tucked her t-shirt into her skirt, shoving, it way down to stretch the dirty cotton on her titties and show not only her nipple bumps but the aureole shadows. Coyly she picked up her father's cigar and dragged on it. He laughed.