He opened her shirt. "Your tits have grown a lot since the summer of '65," he said, rubbing the back of his hand across the left cup of her bra. Her head jerked as if she'd been slapped. She could feel her nipple erecting against the cloth of the bra. His hand pressed down against it. She groaned, just as his hand turned over and he took hold of her tit. "They're just as soft and squeezable, though," he added, lifting the cup of the bra and baring her tit. His finger began to circle around the pale brown edge of her nipple.
Molly, looking down, could see her tit erect a little more with every encircling stroke of his fingertip. The finger moved over and covered the nipple's paint, pushing as if it were a button.
He removed her shirt, then her bra. "This is crazy!" she said. "We're not kids, Jim. We're supposed to be adults. My family hates yours."
"We're the last of the Lawrences and Robbinses left here in Meigs County," he said, "and you know it as well as I do. So who the fuck cares now if your grandfather got my grandfather sent to the penitentiary for moonshining in 1932? I don't. Do you?" His hands moved insistently on her tits, milking at the stiffened nipples.
"It was your grandfather who got mine sent up," she corrected him. "Or was it? God, I don't think I really remember!" His hands on her tits had driven so much out of her mind. She closed her eyes and stroked his hands with her own.
"We don't even remember why we hate each other!" he said, leaning down to lick at her tits. "I think it's time to bury the hatchet. Don't you, Molly? Jesus, when I saw your kids and mine up there today, fucking like hot little rabbits, having the time of their lives, I remembered you and me, doing the same thing up there back in '65. And then we got caught up in the old family hatred, and we never got back together. I've wondered a lot whether it would have been a lot different if we had. I think it would have, Molly."
He was unhooking her jeans. She kept saying no, but not even Molly believed the sound of her voice. She was already reaching out to cup the bulge in the front of his jeans, remembering the first time she had put her hand on his cock, twenty years ago. She'd been so excited, and a virgin, too. She wasn't a virgin now, but God, she was sure she was almost as excited as she had been all those years ago. She sucked in her breath and reached for his zipper, thrusting her hand inside Jim Robbins' pants. Her hand contacted the swollen meat of his cock and she gasped at its size and its stiffness.
"Let's not do it here," he said. "We oughta get comfortable. Your bedroom?"
Molly shook her head. "Why not the parlor?" she said. "I've always wanted to fuck in my mother's parlor." She giggled like a teenager and stepped out of her fallen jeans, then pulled off her panties and dropped them to the floor, standing before Jim Robbins in an unbuttoned shirt, a hoisted-up bra, with a warm smile on her face.
She couldn't believe that she was actually getting fucked in her mother's antique love seat. But wasn't that what a love seat should be for? Molly straddled Jim Robbins' lap, her pussy lifting and falling up and down the stiff lance of his prick. She was sure he hadn't been this big when he fucked her back in '65. He'd have ripped her open with a cock the size of this one.
And it was even better now. She wasn't a shy, tense virgin. She remembered the thrill she had felt the first time his cock bit into her, and the fear she'd felt that her dad might come along and catch them fucking, and the pleasure that had blossomed the longer Jim's cock sank into her hungry tight cunt. It all came back to her now, while riding his prick on the love seat. She hadn't been with a man in almost four years; until Jim's prick stabbed up her pussy she hadn't been aware how much she missed it.
She moved up and down, milking his prick with the muscles of her cunt. "I'm a little better than the first time, hmmm, Jimmy?" she teased, squeezing on his cockmeat. His hands pulled at her tits; he leaned over her shoulder to let his mouth meet hers. His thrusts deepened, hardened. She was full of his cock, and she wanted to be even more full. She ground down, her pussy labes flaring, and she tried to swallow his balls as well as his cock. Juices oozed down her sluice as he filled her again and again, and her stomach was doing flip-flops of excitement.
His hands went down to her pussy. She leaned back, opening herself to his caresses. He found her clit and he began to fondle it, and the cock-spread labes of Molly's cunt.
"Why did we wait so long to do this again?" he wondered, panting hard as he fucked all his lust into her. Molly couldn't answer. Her throat felt raw, and her heart pounded too madly to allow her mind to form coherent thoughts.
Her tongue began to itch. Forcefully, she lifted herself from Jim's cock. He thrust up, into the empty air, two times, three times, almost unaware that she was no longer riding his prick. Molly spun around, sank to her knees before him, her mouth making for the stiffness of his cock. She swallowed the prick and gulped it straight down to the balls, half-choking as he thrust deeply, into her oral wetness.
She hadn't sucked a cock in almost ten years, since well before she and her ex-husband were divorced. She'd never really cared for the act, except years ago, when she and Jim had spent a magic summer at the pond in the woods. She'd drunk his prick dry back then, eagerly, hungrily, as the squirting cum filled her mouth. As she took him deep into her gullet now, she felt the same kind of excitement that had driven her to a frenzy of erotic madness back then. His cock was tangy with the juices of her dripping cunt, and she sucked her cunt flavors from his cockmeat, relishing them as much as she did the meaty taste of Jim's prick.
She worked him with her mouth, using tricks she hadn't been aware she knew. She kissed up and down his cockshaft, sucking as her lips moved on him. She sucked at his balls, too, working her tongue around and around them, taking them in her mouth one at a time for some gentle but hot stimulation. Her fist worked excitedly up and down his stiff prick, sliding the outer shell of flesh along the bone-like interior. He was humping up and down from the chair's seat, his cock thrusting fiercely, powerfully, in her fist's tight grip.
She followed the long prominent trail of his cum vein back up his cock's shaft, tongue coming onto the highly sensitive area just below the tip of his cock. She held him upright and she fluttered her tongue like an insect across the flared-out area, then did the same to his big purple cockknob, licking till it glistened, and sucking till it shone.
She slid her tongue over his cockknob again, wetting him down, and making him throb with passion.
Her mouth fitted over the cocktip, then worked up and down, no more than an inch and a half of his prick slamming in and out of Molly's mouth. Her lips were loose, but just snug enough to let him feel the friction as he worked back and forth, and in and out. Her tongue whipped around and around his cock as he fucked her mouth, and she could taste cum leaking out of his prick, a little of it coating her tongue with each fresh swallow she made on his cock.
She knew it was crazy. What if Amy and Betsy walked into the house while she was sucking off the family's enemy? Molly resisted the urge to giggle. Who were Amy and Betsy to be shocked at anything she might do? Besides, Molly remembered the summer she and Jim had spent fucking at the pond. It took a team of horses to drag her away from the place, as long as Jim was able to get his cock hard enough to fuck her just once more time.
"Yes, yes!" she panted. "Do it, baby! Come in my mouth!"
Her lips worked up and down, taking him inside, loving him, spitting him out and swallowing him again. She'd never been particularly wild about sucking cock. God only knew where she had picked up the knack of sucking his long fat prick all the way into her throat. She had started doing it spontaneously, gagging a little the first couple of times, but coming back in spite of it, sucking him down again and again.