Chapitre 127: Mom’s worry 21
Pink's Playground had a downstairs pornography shop full of DVDs, sex toys, and everything you could buy on the internet, but without the overnight delivery. How many boyfriends had brought their girlfriends down here after a night of titty watching? What nasty things did those girls buy afterward? What was Mom going to buy?
"Mom," I said, keeping my voice low as I looked at the big-titted MILF behind the checkout counter. "What do you need to buy from here?"
"There's something that I've always wanted to do, but it takes at least two cocks to do it," Mom said, walking to the far end of the shop where a wall made of dildos stood. Mom looked sideways at me and gave me a silly smile. "And your father's princess would never be allowed to own a dildo."
I laughed, but then a thought hit me, and I said, "Does Dad make you do things?"
"Yes, he does," Mom said. "Your father makes me stand on a pedestal when all I want to do is lick his asshole."
I tripped, the ground seeming to have grown an extra foot in height, and I almost fell on my face.
Mom laughed as her eyes scanned the wall. She took small steps, stopping to touch a box here, read a description there, or give a particularly big dick a visual once over.
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"That night you cried," I said, "why'd you cry? This seems so natural to you."
Mom exhaled, her lips forming into a reflective smile. "I cried because I'm a mother."
I waited for more, but that's all she said. I reflected on those words until I understood what they had meant. I grabbed my mother's left hand with my right, and I squeezed her palm with a son's love. Mom turned her head, smiled at me, and squeezed my hand as well. Then she went back to the wall, her eyes all business once again.
Though Mom considered all of her options, her focus continually returned to the suction-cupped dildos. She went back to them, stopped, and looked over the phallic variations. Her eyes drifted to me, then back to the cocks, and then back to me, and then back to the cocks.
"How big do you think you are?" Mom asked.
I knew how big I was, and when I told her, Mom said, "Liar."
"I'm serious," I said.
Mom looked at me again, biting her lower lip and swinging her shoulders. "Since I'm your mother, I had to show no fear, but your dick did scare me a little."
Heat filled my cheeks, and a solid bar of warmth flowed into my shaft.
"We need a cock almost as big as yours," Mom said, "that we can stick to surface tops. I want to be able to suck something while getting fucked, and I want to be able to fuck something while I'm sucking you." She squeezed my hand again as her eyes had focused on a long, thick, and curved cock that looked about an inch shorter than mine. "I just want an extra prick to play with."
The image of Mom riding my father's cock while he slept came back to me, and I said, "Do you think Dad would wake up if you blew him while I fucked you?"
Mom's smile turned into a pucker, and her eyes widened, her brows rising, and she turned to look at me with an ooh, that sounds interesting expression on her face.
"We're still buying a dildo," Mom said before lowering her voice and adding, "but we're going to have to find out about your father, you dirty fucking bastard."
My cock spat up a wad of creamy precum as my mother gave me a sexually charged glare. She grabbed the suction cup dildo that she had been eyeing and walked us toward the checkout counter, pulling me by the hand.
The big-titted MILF rang us up, saying, "Aren't you the lucky one," to me. "Where'd you find this cutie, cougar?"
"I found him trying to get into my pants," Mom said, and the two shared a laugh as if they were old friends.
"Aren't they all?" Big Tits asked.
Mom looked at me and asked, "Did the drive-through really turn you on?"
"Yeah," I said, still remembering the shock in the attendant's eyes.
Mom turned back to Big Tits. "I read about this place on the forum FillMeUp, and I'd like to play with my new toy on-site, in the Buyer's Showroom." Mom made a silly face. "That's a real thing, right?"
"You're a kinky one," Big Tits said. "It's real. Follow me."
"Mah," I said, then changed what I was about to say to "Deborah," which was my mother's real name.
"Mark," Mom said, pulling me along as she followed Big Tits down a hallway. "Keep calling me, 'Mom.' The watchers will get a kick out of it."
"The watchers?"
"Some watchers," Big Tits said. "It's a bit early, but you'll get a few granddads to drop a few loads this afternoon."
Mom laughed, yet her cheeks swirled with red, matching the heat that bloomed across mine. Could I do what I think we were going to do?
"My boy here is going to watch his Momma," Mom said. "The website said you'd provide me with a mask."
"I'll take care of you." Big Tits stopped in front of a door, turning and winking at Mom. "Don't you worry, Momma."
We walked down a dark hallway with red baseboard lighting. Bit Tits opened one of the doors within the wall for me, saying, "Have fun, young man," as she gestured for me to step inside the room. "There's an intercom in there if you want to order a stripper." I looked at Mom, who motioned with an all-to motherly, get your butt moving, mister, sideways head-tilt. I gave my mother one last look before stepping inside a large room that smelled of sweat, pussy, sex, and cum.
Within the room, six black cushioned chairs fanned outward in a half-circle in front of a glass wall set within a frame of white fluorescent tubing. Three older men sat in the chairs, the two in chairs five and six had a naked stripper on their lap, each with a shaved pussy and palm-sized tits. The blonde and brunette strippers look about eighteen or nineteen years old, and they had the hard, bendable bodies of life-long ballerinas. The last man sat in chair number one with his pants undone and his cock out, stroking it with a lazy motion, and I looked away the moment I realized what he was doing.
I had stopped walking right inside the doorway, its lock driving home with a thunderbolt-like click that rattled my spine. Behind the glass wall to my right, a single stripper danced in a bright room whose lighting didn't shine into our room. She had a thicker body than the two girls in my room, with bigger tits and a small, black landing strip splitting her olive-toned muff. Behind her, the room had a single stripper's pole that she wasn't using as she stood sideways to us, her body curving like a snake's as she danced up and down.
No one said a word to me. The men didn't look at me. The strippers did, and I could see in their faces that they'd rather dance for me than the other two guys-- who had their fucking dicks out! I hurried to chair number three, my cock softening, and I sat and tried to hide my head behind the short wings of the recliner. Even with that precaution, I could still see chair number six and the blonde stripper dancing for her customer under the soft glow of electric sex.
A seamless white door opened in the back wall of the room behind the glass. Big Tits stuck her head in, saying, "We got a showgirl who wants the stage." The words came through a speaker in the walls. The men around me perked up; the man in chair number one gave his old cock several harder strokes to straighten out his pecker. I didn't look, but it was impossible not to notice his motions from the peripherals of my vision, sitting at the center of the crescent as I was.
The thick stripper left the room, and after a moment, Mom walked into the room. She was wearing nothing but a leather black bunny mask that left her lips, jaw, and the back of her head bare but covered her face from her nose to her hairline. My cock pushed hard against my jeans, forgetting all about the bums on either side of me.
Mom's body shined beneath the room's lights as though she had lathered her golden skin in a thin layer of oil. Her tan stood out darkly against her sunlight hair. I heard a pair of groans to my left and the smacking of a hand jerking a cock to my right. Mom's pubes lay matted to her mound. Definitely oiled, I thought as Mom turned her head from left to right, casting her eyes over our room.
"Can she see us?" I asked the strippers to my left, leaning forward so that I could look at them.
"No," the guy to my right said. "The view is one way, and that's one hot slut. Look at that fucking body."
"I wasn't asking you," I said.
He flinched, but his words and their meaning--the effect my mother had had on him and the two guys to my left, even the strippers--warmed my skin and sent a buzz of pride radiating outward from my chest that swelled my entire being. "That hot slut came here with me." A chill ran through me. "That hot slut is mine."
My mind blanked for a moment, and all I could hear was the echo of my statement, the words bringing an ache to my balls. That hot slut is mine. That hot slut was my mother, and she was mine. Why had I said that aloud? Why wasn't I punching the guy who called my mother a hot slut in the face? I groaned as I put my right hand on my cock, thinking, He wants what I have.
"Lucky you," the man to my right said, stroking himself harder as he focused on my mother and the way she stood, with her legs slightly parted and the crease of her muff pressed together, glistening with oil.
Mom is insane, I thought, my inner voice distant with a tremor of laughter running beneath it. Note to self: If your wife wants to get freaky in the bedroom, let her! Mom lifted her flesh-colored dildo to her mouth and turned sideways to us. Her little ass curved outward, not as much as Jenna's, but it wasn't flat, either. Mom had a tight tennis Mom's butt, and for a moment, I wished that she had kept her skirt on until she brought her dildo to her mouth and pushed the mushroom tip between her lips, which forced every thought I was about to have from my mind.
My mother didn't scarf the dick down like a slut; she dined on that fake cock like a queen. Her lips widened but stayed glued to the silicone as it disappeared into her mouth. She pushed it inward, and she pulled it outward, her new cock coming out wet and shiny, then going back in further than before, then coming out, then in--more of the cock disappearing, reaching the halfway point beyond her lips. Her cheeks puffed out, and she blew out a wad of air and spit, gagged, pulled out, and pushed back in, her tits shaking and her ass cheeks jiggling.
"Fuck me, this slut is beautiful," the man to my right said.
I didn't look at him, but inside... inside, my heart swelled with pride. Where was my anger? (I had some anger, but it wasn't pure anger.) Where was my need to punch this guy right in his throat? (I wanted to fuck my mom while he watched--I wanted him to wish he was me.) His voice held longing and desire and a distant tremor that sounded like regret that he'd never get to touch my mother, or any woman like her, in his life.
You like being envied, dickhead, my cock whispered to me. Your mom is yours. Take pride in her. Stroke your ego, then stroke me.
My dick was one-hundred-percent correct.
I rubbed myself through my jeans as Mom tilted her head back, gagged again, sputtered, spit, and pulled the cock from her mouth. After gasping, she looked at the mirror, her eyes seeming to find me, and she took the cock down again. Her throat must have opened because she didn't gag as it slid into her mouth past the halfway point, her lips stretching as far as they could, like when she tried to take my cock into her mouth.
"Fuck me," someone to my left whispered.
Mom's breasts heaved, and she shook her head and wiggled her dildo, trying to force more down her throat. After a long minute, or two, she pulled it out and gagged again, coughing up thick wads of spit that dripped down her chin and onto her perfect, smallish tits.
"She's a cocksucker," the Right Guy said. "A tasty treat born to eat meat."
I looked at him. I wasn't mad, but I was ready to tell him to shut the fuck up, but he wasn't talking to me, not by the way he stared straight ahead as he stroked himself. His eyes were huge, and his voice was full of resonating awe. I left him alone and turned my eyes back to my mother and the gritty, pornographically surreal reality that surrounded us.
Mom dropped to her knees and stuck the cock against the glass just a little below her mouth. Again, I swore that she looked right at me as if she knew where I was sitting. I had my hand on my pants, over my rock-hard cock, and my solid bar of dick-steel wanted to tear through my jeans for a breath of fresh air. My left hand went straight to my belt, but I curled my fingers into a fist, holding myself still. Mom, though, was anything but still.
Her store-bought cock had realistic balls, and she cupped them the way she cupped mine, her fingers dancing over its sack and making my own nut-bag tingle. As she wrapped her lips over her dildo's knob, she jerked off the shaft, gathering her spit, then dropping her hand down to her bald pussy lips where her meaty cunny folds were soft and tender, hanging between her thighs in two fat, mouthwatering crescents. She was kneeling with her knees spread, and the dark creased between her pouty lips dripped with her juices and spit, and every time her fingers found her clit, her entire body shuddered with small, pleasure-filled quakes.
"Ride me harder, Candy," a guy to the left said.
"Sure thing, Gramps," she said.
I turned my eyes to the left, expecting to see fucking, but the girls were only rubbing their naked asses against both men's laps, trapping their cocks between their cheeks and the john's stomachs. Everyone was watching my mother, and the strippers didn't seem to notice how these old fucks cupped their little titties and pulled on their nipples. The only sign that the girls felt anything was the slight tightening of their faces and their soft gasps as the old guys tweaked their nipples hard.
Mom drew my attention again; her sloppy moans and wet fuck sounds were coming through the room's speakers with new, cock-buzzing nastiness. She had squeezed her tits together, and now she was holding the silicone dick between them, fucking the cock as she dribbled saliva onto her chest. Her skin glistened with oil and spit as the light reflected off the semi-white liquid making a mess on her body. After several minutes of itty-bitty-titty fucking, Mom stood and readjusted the cock against the glass, then she turned around and bent over at the waist, backing her pussy up toward the cock and its long banana curve.
I groaned and stood, walking toward the glass wall. I stopped close enough to look down at my mother's ass, now in a heart shape, as she bent over at the waist. Her cheeks curved outward and around, then down into her thighs, her crack was visible, and so was everything between, including her little, tan-colored pucker. My eyes dropped lower, where her pussy-swells puffed out against her thighs. Her outer folds were in a narrow oval shape, protecting the straight line of her inner crease. My left hand opened, my fingers grabbing onto my belt, the buckle snapping open as I tore at my clothes.
"Hey, wait, hey!" one of the strippers said, and then she was a step to my left, her john pushing her against the glass wall as he rubbed his cock across her buns. "Wait, damn it! Wait."
Mom's pussy touched the tip of the missile-shaped knob, so much like mine, but smaller in every way, except for its curve. The dildo pushed Mom's soft lips inward, her pussy collapsing and then widening to the sides, her slit turning into a pink circle as she eased her twat-hole over the oil-slick dildo stuck to the wall.
"Oh, yeah," Mom moaned as the dick stretched her slot open.
"No," the stripper next to me whined, followed by a low and angry, "uh," as a cock broke its way into her prepaid muff. "You have to--uh--pay me--uh--first!"
"Yeah," Gramps said, sighing and slapping the stripper's small ass, his enthusiasm met with curses and whimpers.
My right hand joined my left, reaching into my pants and fishing out my iron-hard pole as my left hand pushed the waistline of my boxer briefs down below my nuts. I placed my left hand on the glass, spread my legs, and stroked my cock as my mother fed her muff to her brand new dildo.
"Uh, fuck, uh," Mom moaned as she took the cock halfway up her snatch, keeping her legs tightly together, her juice-box swelling and making her blonde clam as snug as possible. "Mmm, yeah, mmm, Mark, baby, fuck."
"My name's Jim," the cock-stroker to the right of me said, standing a few feet from me. "C'mon, say my name. It's Jim. Say Jim for me."
My heart surged with new energy. Did I want to punch this guy? Did I want to fuck Mom in front of him? Was this a strange dream that I'd later jerk off to, then wish I'd never had, then jerk off to it again?
"Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, oh!" the stripper next to me whimpered as her hands slid up and down the wall as the old guy fucked her young pussy hard.
Somewhere behind us, the other stripper groaned as one of her holes found itself stuffed with thick man-meat.
I stroked my dick faster, forgetting about the voyeurs and exhibitionists next to me. I stared down at my mother's ass, her tight pucker, and her vertical smile as it gobbled down a healthy dose of fuck-stick. My balls swelled as I stroked my cock, flinging precum onto the glass, encouraged by Mom's pleasure-filled cries as she fucked her pussy all the way back to the glass wall. The backs of her thighs and her ass cheeks flattened, spreading out, and when she pulled her pussy off the dildo, I saw that her sweet nectar had stained the glass.
This continued for several minutes until Mom reached back with her left hand and grabbed her ass cheek, spreading it to the side. Her asshole and pussy lips stretched, and her right hand dipped between her legs from the front. Her fingers found her clit and rubbed the little nub in wide circles. Mom's whimpers picked up, and her pussy turned creamy around the cock buried within her slippery muff.
My balls tingled.
The guy still sitting in the chair moaned, shouting, "Fuck, I'm coming!" as the guy next to me shot his load against the glass wall. I kept stroking my dick, watching Mom, and holding back my rising cum. The guy force-fucking the other stripper jizzed, grabbing her hips and pulling her back hard as he drove his dick into her muff with a skin-slapping thrust. He let her go, and she sank to her knees, breathing hard as the old man's sperm leaked out of her.
Mom's whimpers reached a new pitch, and she came hard, pressing her pussy down the cock and grinding her butt against the glass. A tremor shook my entire body. My thighs swelled, flexing and tensing, and I rose onto my toes, aiming my cock at Mom's back as I splattered the wall with my jizz. Mom continued whimpering, her knees bending and straightening, her hands on her thighs, her pussy twisting the cock as she ground her insides against the silicone.
She eventually slid off the dildo, its long body covered in my mother's cum as it wobbled side to side after her dismount. Mom fell onto her hands and knees, her pussy staring at me, its pinkness revealed and glistening with her juices. She breathed hard for a while before looking over her shoulder at me and said, "We got to go, Son, lunch is waiting."
(I still don't know how my mother's eyes kept finding me through the one-way glass.)
"Oh, fuck," the man to the right said. "She really is your slut."
I stepped back, wearing a smile that was all ego as I put my dick away. Gramps grabbed his stripper's blonde hair and pushed her face toward my cum. She frowned, scrunching her face as he rubbed her cheek into my seed, followed by her mouth and lips as he said, "Lick it up, Angie. I'm paying you for this."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone