Angela quivered upon his active tongue, her furry crotch churning in a growing rapture that would soon overflow, and Jerry pumped more vigorously upon his cock, tightening his fist around the slippery glans and feeling his own climax building swiftly within his testicles.
«Coming — coming — coming,» his mom chanted, her head swinging in time with the jerky upheavals of her cunt. «Uuhhh! Oh baby, my darling, my sweet little cunt eater — «
As she was still quivering upon the erratic crest, Jerry lifted his face suddenly from her thrusting pussy and slid in between her widespread thighs, his hand pumping as he stared down at the sizzling gash of her gorgeous pussy. His come leaped furiously from the spasming cockhead, and he bent the shaft down to nuzzle it against her hairy golden snatch, so that the spurting jism could splatter over her mound and across her sweaty belly.
Creamy rich and boiling hot, the thick juice squirted over his mother's trembling skin, one globule coming to rest in the puddle of her navel, and Jerry shook in delighted gratification. His semen dripped over her pussy lips and clung to the hairs, all foamed and sticky; it smeared over her stomach, and Angela opened her eyes wide in surprise as she stared down at the come drenching her lower body.
«Jerry — what — why did you — «
He bit his lips. «I won't say I'm sorry, mom; because I'm not. I wanted to soak your cunt and your belly outside with my semen. I wanted to see it happen.»
Her slim hands came stealing down to touch fingertips delicately into the creamy juice, hesitant at first, then working to smear the clinging liquid over more of her warm body. «Silly boy; I'm not objecting. You just surprised me, that's all. I like this — it feels all slidy and sticky and very sexy.»
Watching the movement of her hands, looking down over the dripping and vastly expanded bulb of his prick, Jerry saw his mom slide the semen up over her belly, then rub her fingers in slow circles across her breasts, her nipples. She reached down again, dipping into the blotted hairs of her pussy for a fresh supply, and brought her fingers up to smear the stuff over her mouth. There was a deeply sensuous, deeply moving gleam in her eyes as she stared up at him.
«Kiss me,» she whispered.
Obediently, he lowered himself onto her incomparable body, and their bellies were glued together by the residue of his own ejaculation. There was glue upon her mouth, too, her lips heavy with it, but Jerry met them avidly, glorying in the musky-sweet flavors there, in the ultimate sensuousness of this impetuous, ardent woman who happened to be his mother.
Their tongues met in avid twining, and their hot breaths mixed. Angela was squirming beneath him when he felt her long, limber body suddenly go tense. He wondered hazily what was wrong, but his reflexes kept the slickened bud of his shaft prodding for the entrance to her drenched pussy. Then her hands were pushing at his chest, and she tore her mouth free from his to gasp a name.
«Debbie!»
The shock of it jolted through Jerry like a flash of electricity, and other reflexes took over, rolling him from between his mom's spread legs and onto the bed itself, where he threw a startled glance at the open bedroom door. Then he pawed for the sheet, trying ineffectually to cover his naked body. Another woman was standing frozen in the doorway, her dark eyes wide and stunned, her red mouth working convulsively, but not making any sounds he could hear.
Angela came off the bed, making it to the closet with a single long stride and flinging a pale robe around her body. Swiftly then, she crossed the room and caught the other woman by the wrists, holding her firmly.
«Debbie!» she said sharply. «Debbie Carter, if you're trying to work up to a scream, I'll slap the hell out of you.»
«A — Angela — I swear I had no idea — I swear I didn't know, couldn't think that you and — and him — «
Over her shoulder, his mother said to Jerry, «Take it easy, darling. Grab a shower or something, and give me time to talk with her.»
Wordlessly, he nodded, and watched his mom steer the neighbor woman down the hall. Mrs. Carter's voice floated back: «You haven't answered your phone and the car's in the driveway, so I knew you were home, and
— Angela; your own son?»
Oh damn, Jerry thought, flinging aside the sheet. Mrs. Carter from next door; they should have remembered that mom was so thick with the woman, having coffee a couple of times a day, gossiping and going shopping together. If she and Angela weren't so close, she wouldn't have come nosing around the house; she wouldn't have caught them. wiggling naked together. He hadn't actually been fucking his mother, but he'd been just about to, after eating that succulent pussy and then jacking off onto her belly. Now what the hell was going to happen?
Maybe the woman would be so shocked, she'd run and fink to the cops or somebody; there was some kind of law, Jerry thought. Even if Debbie Carter just accidentally spread the word around the neighborhood, it might mean that they'd have to find another place, he and dad and mom. Robotlike, his pole drooping, Jerry climbed into the shower and got clean, got shining and scrubbed, although he didn't know why. It was something to do, while his mother tried to handle Mrs. Carter somehow, while she tried to talk the woman out of doing anything goofy.
He felt too guilty to just hang around the room, though; it was his fault, too. If there was going to be any flak over what she'd seen, he ought to go out there and take his share, so Jerry slipped into his robe and found some slippers and moved toward the voices he heard in the kitchen.
There was the clink of glass on glass, and the rattle of ice cubes. Good, he thought; his mother had Mrs. Carter drinking, settling her down some. Jerry came quietly to the kitchen entrance and stood there uncertainly. They had their backs to him, both of them seated upon the high stools at the counter.
Angela was saying, «Look, Debbie — what the hell is so bad about it? I don't think it's weird, and my son sure as hell doesn't. And I'll tell you something else — neither does Mack.»
Debbie flinched. «You — you mean that your husband knows that you're laying your own boy — his boy? Oh wow! this is just too much to absorb at one time.»
His mom poured more whiskey into the other woman's glass. As Mrs. Carter lifted the glass, he saw the firm movement of her tits, and thought maybe for the hundredth time that she was a foxy-looking chick. He had often sweated out the gleam of her legs when she took sunbaths next door, and always sneaked a look at the way her big breasts wobbled when she walked. She was built a lot different from his mother; where Angela was long and slim, Debbie Carter was round and shorter. His mother was a shining blonde, and the other woman had deep black hair that went well with her olive complexion. She was about his mom's age, Jerry thought, give or take a year one way or the other, and plenty sexy looking. If he hadn't been so wrapped up in dreams of his mother, maybe he would have thought a lot more about screwing the neighbor wife. But back then, both ideas had seemed impossible. Now, he didn't know. It was an idea.
Debbie said then, «You told me about a couple of guys, and that was okay. I mean, I've even been thinking about looking around for some extra love-life myself, but your own — «
«Oh shit, Debbie,» his mother said in exasperation. «Because he's my own, that makes it all the better. You know why I couldn't answer the phone, why I didn't come to the door? Because that wonderful, horny kid has been giving me the fucking of my life, day and night, for all that time. It's never been so good for me. And when you came to the bedroom, did you see him?»
The other woman drank, and Angela poured booze over the ice cubes. Then Debbie said slowly, a little thickly, «Then you mean it wasn't my over- worked imagination? He — he really has a thing that big? I thought it might have been the angle I saw it from, or maybe the shock, or something. It's really that big?»