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“You feeling better now, honey?” Sharon asked.
Melissa sat hunched forward on the edge of a deck chair staring fixedly across the still surface of the Thompsons’ pool. She took a long, slow sip from the moisture-beaded glass cupped in her unsteady hands. She couldn’t bear to look either Sharon or C.J. Thompson in the eyes.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered after a long while. “I didn’t mean to spy. I just…that is, I didn’t…” She gave up trying to find the words. Her head swam, and not from the rum.
Sharon gave a little laugh and tossed her head. “Hon, we saw you as soon as you came out through the glass doors. I kind of owe you an apology, for throwing you in at the deep end that way.”
“Throwing me I see the curiosity in your eyes. You feel it, don’t you, all through you? What would it be like?” Sharon’s hands moved down over the swell of Melissa’s breasts, the tips just brushing the elastic of her frumpy swim top.
“Hell, I live with him!” Sharon’s husky voice took on a note of urgency. “Just us two, day after day. Me bein’ me, I don’t see how I had a choice!”
Her fingers slid under Melissa’s top, touching her nipples. Melissa’s mouth went dry. She moaned.
“Look at that, they’re already stiff,” Sharon whispered in Melissa’s ear. She took Melissa’s drink from her hand and set it on the flagstones, then returned to teasing her new friend’s swollen nipples. Acting on pure sexual impulse, Melissa pulled her top down to her waist. The unaccustomed warmth of the direct sun sent a pleasant tingle through her tits that went straight to her cunt.
She hadn’t gotten over being hot and bothered from watching Sharon with C.J. in the pool. The mojito had gone to her head and now she just surrendered to the moment.
Sharon gathered Melissa’s breasts in her hands and kneaded them gently. C.J. had been content to watch silently up to this point, but his penis swelled and rose in response to the action playing out before him. Melissa’s heart pounded in excitement as he stood and approached her.
Melissa looked questioningly to Sharon, who just nodded. “Go ahead, honey. Find out for yourself.”
Melissa reached out with both hands to cradle C.J.’s huge balls. Her moist, parted lips gingerly caressed the angry purple head of his cock. It was nearly the size of a golf ball even though he was still only half hard. She realized that if she didn’t get him in her mouth now she would miss the chance foreplay. Not really sex.
She couldn’t rationalize what she was going to do now. She’d been faithful to Tom since their first date over twenty years ago. Now she was going to fuck another man, a heavy-hung guy young enough to be her son!
A sudden thrill rushed through her. She didn’t know what excited her more, C.J.’s powerful physicality, or knowing that he was her Ben’s age. That was so irresistibly wicked.
She wrapped her legs around C.J. as he pressed his massive cock-head into the slick small opening of her emek escort pussy, and she waited. She wasn’t sure that he would fit. The dome of his prick glided over her flowering sex lips and he pressed forward slightly, then stopped.
“Damn it, she’s tight as you were the first time, Mom.”
Sharon winced sympathetically. “Let me help you relax, honey.” She moved her hand to one of Melissa’s hard nipples and circled the areola with her finger. Then she pushed Melissa’s breasts together with her hands and her mouth replaced the finger, continuing to circle and tease. She moved her head back and forth, the tip of her tongue lathing one nipple and then the other.
“Ahhhhh…” Little contractions rippled through Melissa’s pussy. With each spasm, she seemed to open up a little more, and C.J. slid further into her dripping cunt.
A flood of sensation overwhelmed her. Everything melted away except for the sheer joy of being fuller than she’d ever dreamt she could be. This was real sex, not the occasional, drowsy slap-and-tickle that she and Tom had silently negotiated between them as the years had worn on.
C.J.’s shaft felt as thick as a baseball bat, stretching the delicate tissues of her vagina as he moved slightly forward and then back, giving her time to adjust, slowly working his way deeper inside her. Then the tip of his cock brushed what seemed to be a super-sensitive nerve cluster far up inside her.
“Ooooh…oooh God!” she gasped, realizing what had happened, something that she’d never have imagined possible: He’d reached her cervix! The warm pressure of his knob at the entrance to her womb was a totally new kind of stimulation, indescribably pleasurable. It was too much. She came without warning, a short but intense orgasm.
“That’s as far in as you can go, darling,” Sharon told her son. “You hit bottom there.”
“As far as she bore down to squeeze his cock with her inner muscles, trying to hold him inside when he withdrew. In reality, her little cunt so tightly sheathed his massive rod that flexing or relaxing it made little difference. She gave up after a while and just curled her fingers around his thick wrists, holding onto him for dear life as he braced himself on the wooden arms of the recliner and ravished her. Her heels bounced helplessly against his asscheeks and, finally, she was too overwhelmed by sensation to do more than wail and plead “Fuck me…please fuck me…fuck me forever.”
He lunged forward and the muscles of his buttocks and thighs clenched. He came, hips jerking spasmodically with each ejaculation as he exploded deep in her clutching pussy. When the first hot spurts of his cum hit her womb, every muscle in Melissa’s body contracted uncontrollably and she crested in a bone-deep, full-body orgasm that rattled her teeth and curled her toes.
The roar of her own pulse in her ears slowly subsided. She heard Sharon’s voice as if from a great distance.
“We kinda lost you eryaman escort for a moment there,” Sharon drawled. “You could maybe use another drink.”
“He’s…that was incredible,” Melissa said wearily. She stretched out naked on the recliner, letting the sun warm and soothe her limbs. She felt as she often did after a ten-mile run: sore all over and exhausted but satisfied. It was wonderful.
“Takes after his daddy, where it counts,” Sharon said. Melissa raised herself on one elbow and peered at the blonde over lowered sunglasses.
“Not Stan,” she ventured.
“Course not,” Sharon let out a long sigh. “Stan and I were newlyweds. We were putting every dime we could scrounge into this investment scheme he’d gotten into with schoolmates…it was portable cell towers in some Asian country, I forget where. But he was completely driven. He spent every waking hour on it. He was already traveling all the time, halfway around the world on no notice to meet his big shot investors.
“And all the while we were livin’ on the thin edge of credit and barely making the rent on a one-bedroom walk-up. I started doing private tutoring.
“And so there was this senior at Greenleaf High, Ronnie Lewis. Varsity quarterback. Wanted to be a lawyer, having trouble passing English Lit…”
“You slept with him.”
“Nobody slept, Girl. He fucked me half to death. He was young and strong and he had a dick like—well hell, like this one.” She waved airily at her son, who napped by her side on the double chaise lounge.
“After a while, it wasn’t just Ronnie. Oh no, there was his brother and a couple of other guys on the team. They all tutored me. As a team, you could say. They taught me everything, about sex and about who Sharon Thompson was.
“So I always thought Ronnie was Connor’s father, but it could’ve been one of the other guys. I wasn’t absolutely sure until Connor really, um, grew up. One day I took a good long look, and I knew.”
“Where’s Ronnie now?”
“Huh? Oh, him— I still see him once and awhile. I guess I wasn’t such a terrible teacher. He made it to law school and he’s the county attorney now.”
“And, uh…Stan’s okay with this?”
Sharon shrugged indifferently. “I don’t think he much cares. Never did. He’s mostly about setting goals and checking off boxes, right? So, he married the head cheerleader, mission accomplished, on to the next mountain. Oh, and his big idea hit pay dirt and he got even busier. He’s zippin’ all over creation, building 5G towers somewhere in India now, I think. But ours is not the kind of story that would…well, his competitors would have themselves way too much fun with it.
“Men and their blessed reputations.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “It’s worth a whole lot to Stan for us to stay home—and keep quiet.”
Melissa couldn’t get her head around it all. Sharon seemed so open and unashamed of her exploits. It couldn’t be that easy…could ankara escort it?
“You didn’t have any doubts? About C.J., I mean?” she asked.
“I…hesitated,” Sharon confessed, looking away momentarily. “But Connor didn’t, not for a hot second. He knew what he wanted and when he was eighteen he just reached out and claimed me.”
Melissa silently pondered all that Sharon had confided. After a long while, Sharon broke the silence with a question of her own.
“What about you, Mel?”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Tom. I can read between the lines. And the way you fuck, you don’t seem like the monastic life would much appeal to you.”
“Oh, Tom’s busy and we’re going through a rough patch, with…with sex and…everything.” Melissa spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m fine, really. Sometimes I’m grateful for the solitude.”
Sharon let out a low whistle. “O-kay. Well, honey, remember I’m right next door and always happy to share what I got. Lord knows Connor is. But truth to tell, looking at your Ben, if it was me—”
“Don’t!” Melissa said sharply, alarmed at the direction Sharon’s words—and her own fantasies—were leading.
Sharon raised an eyebrow, tracing the rim of her glass with a forefinger. She downed the last of her rum. “Just sayin.'”
She turned and slapped C.J. on the thigh. He opened his eyes, looking mildly offended.
“You good to go again, stud?”
She stood up and shrugged out of her robe. Melissa got her first good look at the small tribal tattoo on Sharon’s hip, just above her smooth, hairless pussy mound. It read “CJ’s” in inch-high script.
Melissa’s eyes sought out C.J.’s questioningly. He grinned and shrugged. His eyes wandered over his mother’s naked body and his prick hardened again.
Sharon straddled her son with her back to him. She held his cock in both hands and moved the head back and forth along the entrance to her cunt. Looking right at Melissa, she slid halfway down over the huge rod. Her eyes glazed over and her body twitched at the thrill of penetration, but she held Melissa’s gaze as she paused for a few seconds. Gyrating her hips sensuously, she continued her long descent.
Melissa watched in astonishment as C.J.’s entire cock disappeared easily into Sharon’s cunt.
“P-practice, Girl,” she murmured. “Practice.” She arched her back and rode her son.
The look of ecstasy in her eyes was a tangible thing. She was in some far-off dream state, lost in an erotic trance. Melissa shivered, feeling again the startling empathetic connection she’d experienced when they had first met, only a few hours ago. It was almost as if she could feel that magnificent cock entering her own cunt again.
The pose of amused irreverence which Sharon had constructed for herself vanished at times like this. In her youth she’d struggled against her urges, gamely trying to hold on to some shred of self-control, of self-respect—even of conscience. She had long since put all of that out of mind.
Now she just surrendered to the exquisite pleasure and torment of her son’s penetration, reduced as always to a quivering, orgasming wreck, completely absorbed in the rapture of his enormous cock driving into her cunt.
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