Dirty stepmother
Today most middle-class professional people maintain a respectable manner, obscuring the ferment signifying social change in which large numbers of them are engaged.
Educated, aware of their responsibilities to themselves and the communities in which they live, many have at one time or another played pivotal roles in various social and political movements. And still many more, while not playing a direct role in reshaping our society, have nonetheless advocated the efforts of their peers and sought to broaden their own attitudes and life styles toward everything from abortion to sex.
Robin Birks is part of this involved group, groping her way toward more honest expressions of her personality, endeavoring to manifest her sexuality without shame, attempting to instill these same feelings in her two stepchildren, Donna and Steve.
THE EAGER STEPMOTHER -- the story of one family, and its coming of age. A novel based on the many changes in our society today.
The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Scott Birks awoke with a throbbing hard-on. He scratched his bare chest thoughtfully, his fingers working through the thick crop of dark hair which grew in a mat from just below his shoulders. A moment later and he had run his hand flatly downwards over the hard stomach muscles to where his cock thrust stiffly and curved to almost touch his navel.
He clasped the hard prick tightly, the ache in his balls reminding him of last night and the farewell party. Never had he found Joan Allingham so good at fucking, and he put it down to the fact that it would be the last time the two couples would be able to get together again for some time. Tonight he would be in California where he was to open new offices for Condor Air Freight. It would mean weeks of hard work and trying to find a home for Robin and the kids. Hopefully, it would all be worthwhile, but for the first time he realized how Robin and he would miss Bill and Joan Allingham.
He clutched his cock and stretched at the same time. At thirty-eight he was in pretty good shape, and he turned his head to where Robin was quietly sleeping beside him, her long ash-blonde hair in complete disarray across the pillow and over her beautifully rounded shoulders. She was lying on her stomach, one knee folded upwards so that the shapely leg was in a loop, the skimpy, flimsy little nightie up around her waist so that her young, curved buttcheeks were completely exposed.
Robin was ten years younger, and his second wife. Martha Birks had died when Steve had been born, and for six years he had relied on his parents to raise Donna, who was now eighteen, and the boy. Then through Bill and Joan Allingham he had met Robin, found she was a terrific screw and four years ago married her. It was an arrangement which had worked beautifully, and any doubts he may have had about keeping up with a young, sexy stewardess had long ago been dispelled. Not only was she an excellent wife, but she had proved to be a fantastic mother for Steve and Donna, who both idolized her.
He half turned towards the attractively slender body and feasted his eyes on the curved buttcheeks and the outspread thighs. They were creamy white, and he moved one hand to place it furtively on a rounded cheek, the velvety smoothness filling his loins with a dull, churning ache.
Robin Birks sighed and rubbed her cheek against the pillow. She ran her tongue across sensuously large lips, coming to briefly before dropping once more into a drifting, hazy sleep.
He left his hand over the softly yielding bun, his fingers digging gently into the warm, soft flesh. His thumb pressed teasingly near her brown puckered bung, and he could just make out the thin covering of silky pussy hair around the rim of her cunt. The sight brought another surging ache to his balls, and he moved his hand slowly into the small of her back, upwards over her spine and then under the hem of the nightie before reaching around and beyond to her tit.
Her tits were like large oranges, not large like Joan Allingham's tits, but perfectly rounded, with no sag so that they always stood out as if taunting all the time. His open hand closed in to completely encase the beautiful tit, the nipple scratching his palm as his fingertips closed in around the exquisite base to probe and knead in a series of methodical squeezes.
"Mnnnn..." Robin Birks was vaguely aware of a dull, soothing warmth as it raced through her tits. The excruciating feel of a man's powerful hand, molding itself over her right boob brought a yearning to her cunt and she cautiously allowed herself to come awake as the hand became more active.
"Mnnnn... what..." she murmured sleepily. Bill Allingham and she had fucked last night. Then she and Scott had got home and fucked again in bed. Now, as she tried to clear her sleepy head, she wondered if Bill and Joan Allingham had come home with them, too. They had after one party at the Allinghams', and the party had continued the next day. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at the window through which the sun was streaming onto the table by the bed.
Scott Birks moved his right leg over her left one and slowly eased his knee up into her warm, moist crotch. He pressed against her cunt, listened to her sigh and worked his knee up and down, the exquisite softness of her crotch filling him with lust. "Did you know you have the most beautiful ass in the world?" he asked, moving his cock so that it lay along her thigh.
"Mnnn..." she murmured. He was cupping the tit now, one finger trailing back and forth over the bulging, fruit-like nipple. She shivered at the response in her aunt, moving her folded knee upwards to give him more room. "Better than Joan's?" she asked softly.
"Much better." He brought his mouth down and kissed her on the neck so that she immediately cringed, giggled and tried to turn her head and force his mouth away. "That tickles!" she cried.
His cock was a throbbing shaft, and he moved his knee from out of her crotch, moving it against her outspread thigh so that he could guide his cock to the opening of her cunt. "Does that tickle?" he asked, the aching in his balls almost unbearable.
"Don't you ever get enough?" she asked, still giggling and waiting for the massive cock to begin its deep plunge up her quivering cunt.
He slowly thrust it in, the pulsing head widening out the hot tunnel of her cunt as she made little appreciative groans from deep in her throat. "Do you ever get enough cock?" he asked, squeezing the fabulous tit as his cock finally extended itself to the top of her cunt.
"No," she laughed, arching herself as his hips and thighs finally slammed against hers. "Oooooh..."
He let go of her tit and moved his hands to her waist, the smooth, velvety feeling of her young body filling his balls with sperm as he held his cock rigidly in. Then he moved his other leg over, mounted her securely as she willingly folded her other leg outwards. A moment later and his hands had lifted her bodily into position, his thick, bloated cock thrusting and recoiling as she cried with delight at each deep thrust.
She flung her head the other way on the pillow, his powerful thrusts making it difficult for her to breathe. They rarely fucked this way, with him behind, and she found it strangely exciting. She cupped her tits, squeezing them and stroking the nipples at the same time. Then she grabbed the pillow and pulled it under her, down to her waist so that she was curved over with her shapely young ass bare and exposed so that a moment later she was crying out and whimpering as his big, hungry cock swept in and out of her grasping, boiling hole.
"Jesus but that's good." His hands left her waist and he was leaning forward and reaching for her tits. She moved her hands and let his take over. When they did, he pulled and milked at them as he steadily fucked her.
"Sensational!" She was gasping for breath and straightening her legs at the same time. "God, but it's heavenly."
The boiling jism was bubbling in his balls. He was sinking his excited cock to the hilt each time, her pouting cuntlips clasping at the base of his shaft with each deep plunge.
"We... we... we should do this... more often."
"I'll say." He thrust his dick in and held still momentarily.
"God, yes." His cock filled her entire twat. It was as if it were reaching for her tits, and she gave a groan of despair as the thick, heavy prick throbbed and pulsed at the apex of her cunt.
He knew he was coming and he tried to hold on. He released her beautiful firm tits, hoping that would assuage the ache in his balls. He grabbed at her hips, withdrew his cock once more only to find the familiar surging of his cum had started. Then he held her beautifully curved buttcheeks in place and slammed against them in a frenzy of delight. "Yes... I'm... I'm coming!"
"What a... fuck... fuck!"
The force of the ejaculation surprised them both. The magnificent head of his cock belched forth in a spasm of volcano-like explosion, the hot, boiling sperm striking her cervix and making her shiver and tremble in response. She gave a series of half-choking cries, her fingers grappling wildly at the sheet and mattress as she tried to spread her legs wider. Then she lay there, her mind fighting oblivion as his thick cock plunged hungrily in and out of her gulping, clutching cunt.
He rolled off the warm, silky softness of her body. "Jesus, what a fuck," he gasped, his powerful chest heaving and falling as he fought for breath.
Robin Birks lay quietly gasping, her face turned so that she could watch him, her eyes dropping to the wet, shimmering shaft of his cock. She reached out and clasped it, the warmth of the sticky tool bringing a surging warmth to settle in her aching cunt. She rubbed it several times, her eyes focused on the red, gleaming head as it bared itself each time she sank her little fist to the bottom. "I'm going to miss it," she murmured, as if talking to herself.
"It won't be that long." He moved his hand to lift and play with one perfect tit. "Think about me out there with nobody. At least you have Bill if you get too horny."
She squeezed the huge cock affectionately. "I'm still going to miss him," she said softly. "Three weeks is a lifetime without him."
Later, as they ate breakfast with Donna and Steve, Robin said, "Do you think you'll be able to get back in three weeks?"
"I'll come back anyway."
"When do we go?" asked Donna, chewing on a piece of toast. "I can't wait to get to California."
Scott looked at his daughter who at eighteen was nothing short of beautiful. She was a little too seductive-looking for her own good, and he wondered briefly just how far she had gone with some of the horny young men he had seen her with. "I thought you'd have hated leaving all your boyfriends," he said, his eyes momentarily taking in the high firm tits which had developed suddenly and which she constantly displayed by straightening her shoulders. It was a habit he thought only women much older practiced when they knew men were studying them.
She made a gesture of indifference. "The boys are so slow around here," she said, sarcasm in her voice. "In California, boys are on the move."
Scott shook his head and laughed. He wasn't sure what boys did when they were on the move, but he hoped she could take care of herself.
"I'm sure Donna and Steve are going to love it," broke in Robin. "You're lucky, really. A lot of families find it difficult to adjust and the kids don't want to leave all their friends behind."
"And how about you?"
Robin shrugged her shoulders. "I'm like you. I think the opportunity for you is one we can't afford to turn down. Besides, with my ready-made family wanting to go, I'm ready anytime." She reached out on either side of her to touch the children's hands.
Scott looked at her affectionately. "I think once we're settled, we'll love it. Finding a place to live will be the toughest job. It's expensive out there, but we'll find something I'm sure."
"I hope it has a pool," allowed Donna thoughtfully.
"I hope so, too." Steve Birks pushed away the plate on which he had left a piece of bacon. "You'll teach me how to swim, won't you Robin?" He looked at his stepmother, a doting look in his eyes. She had impressed him from the first moment he had met her, his need for a mother surfacing and making it that much easier for his father to decide on marrying again.
"Robin and I can teach you," said Donna, not wanting to be left out. Then, with a serious expression on her face, she looked at her father and said, "Did you speak to that Miss Kelly about me going to the stewardesses' training school next year, Daddy?"
Scott finished the last of his coffee. "Yes, and we have to remind her next spring before she starts recruiting."
Donna, who had been getting to her feet, came over and planted a kiss on the side of his face. "Thanks, Daddy. Just think, you could have a fly-girl in the family after all."
Scott laughed and looked at Robin. "I have one now, remember?"
Donna smiled at Robin. "Robin's an ex-fly-girl." Then, in case the remark had sounded glib or offensive, she added, "Robin has a much more important job now, just taking care of us." She touched her stepmother's shoulder as she walked towards the living room. "I'm going to wash my hair, if we're all going to the airport to see Daddy off."
It was shortly after eight p.m. when Scott Birks arrived at Los Angeles airport. He was tired after the long flight and was pleased when he was settled in his hotel and had poured himself a drink. Tomorrow he would start work arranging to rent space for Condor's operations in Los Angeles, hiring staff and ordering equipment. It was a task he was looking forward to.
Two weeks later, with most of the work in hand, he turned to looking for a place for him and his family to live. At first, he stared at the multitude of advertisements in the papers. He soon found this so bewildering, he finally gave up, deciding to choose a real-estate agent at random from the yellow pages and phoning for an appointment.
It was hot, even at ten o'clock in the morning, when he walked into the sumptuous offices of Harper Realty, Inc.
"May I help you?" The pretty honey-blonde, who could be no more than nineteen, or twenty at the most, flashed him a dazzling smile.
"I'm Mr. Birks. I have an appointment with Mr. Foster." He managed to keep his eyes away from the bulging, youthful tits which were clearly visible above the low-cut blouse the girl was wearing, until she had turned to study an appointment chart to one side. Then he allowed himself a long, lingering gaze at the perfect jugs before his eyes dropped hungrily to the lushly tapering thighs which disappeared upwards under the highly hiked hem of the tiny white skirt.
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, but Mr. Foster had an unexpected delay this morning." She turned to flash him a knowing smile this time as he failed to avert his eyes from her gorgeous thighs in time. "He has asked Mrs. Harper herself to see you." She got to her feet, brushing at her skirt so that she had to bend over and give him a better view of her magnificent tits. "I'll just see if she's ready. Would you like to take a seat?"
He moved towards the seat, but hesitated long enough to watch her wiggle her cute ass down the short hallway to a private office.
"Mrs. Harper will see you now, Mr. Birks."
"Thank you." He smiled as he brushed past the little blonde, this time brazenly examining her tits which she had thrust out as he approached, just as his daughter, Donna, had done the last morning at the breakfast table.
His first glimpse of the private office and the occupant took his breath away. The receptionist closed the door behind him, and he just found himself standing there, taking it all in.
The office, with its white shag carpeting and dark mahogany furniture was startling enough, but he hadn't been ready for Mrs. Harper herself. For some reason, he had expected an older, over painted, overdressed dowager type. Instead, he found himself facing a huge desk behind which sat a woman about his own age. She had chestnut-red hair which was a little more than shoulder-length and which framed one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. Then she got to her feet and held out a hand, and he was able to see her figure more clearly, the slim waist emphasizing the twin globes in all their perfect roundness as they bulged so enticingly through the thin material of a clinging, almost skin-tight yellow sweater.
"Mr. Birks! I'm so pleased to meet you."
This time he couldn't control his eyes. "I-I'm Scott Birks," he stammered, as a smile slowly spread over her pretty face, frightening him as he felt the first distant stirring in his cock.
"Do have a chair," she grinned, pointing to one at the side of the desk, and watching him almost stumble on his way. "I'm sorry Mr. Foster has been detained by another client."
Scott Birks slumped into the arm chair and gulped. "I must say, I'm not," he managed to quip, pulling himself together with a supreme effort.
She brushed at one side of her hair, pressing it away from her round, beautiful face. "I take that as a compliment, Mr. Birks." She sat down and crossed her arms at the edge of the desk. There was nothing like an expensive sweater to bring out the horniest in a man. "I gather you were expecting someone older." She had an amused expression on her face which made her green eyes twinkle.
"A hag, as a matter of fact." He looked around the office, taking it all in. "You must be a very successful realtor."
"My husband was. I just carried on after he was gone, but he'd already made the big deals -- as we call them. Now I stick to residential real estate by and large. It has less headaches and is probably more rewarding."
"I see." He was dying to know if she was divorced or a widow. He tried to frame a suitable question, but gave up. "Well, I'm moving to Los Angeles and I'm primarily here for advice. I don't even know if I should rent or buy. That's why I'm here and I'm hoping you can help me."
"I'm sure I can. We have listings in all categories, but first I want to know something about you so that I shall be in a position to help you the most." She sat back, with her elbows on the arms of the chair and her hands together and tapping her chin.
"I'm married with two children. A girl who is eighteen and a boy twelve." He crossed his legs, the dull, familiar ache in his groin intensifying now that her big boobs were gloriously displayed between her sloping arms. "So it has to be a three-bedroom place, at least, and I would prefer four if possible."
"Any particular area?" She decided he was her age -- thirty-five -- possibly a little older, and one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. He reminded her of Murray, her late husband, but she didn't know why. He didn't look like Murray in the face, but the broad chest and athletic figure were identically like Murray's, and for a brief moment she tried to imagine him naked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "None at all. I set foot in L.A. two weeks ago and except for the route to the airport, I wouldn't know one end of the city from the other." He watched her get to her feet. She was wearing slacks -- cords were what his daughter called them -- and, like his daughter's, they appeared to be sprayed on, except for the flaring legs. He sucked in his breath quietly as the tightly encased ass swayed erotically as Mrs. Harper walked over to the window. "I'll... I'll have to leave all that to you."
"Yes," she murmured. "I'll have to think about it. It's never easy deciding for someone else, but that is part of our job." She turned rather quickly and caught him staring at her midsection. At the same time, he had been trying to pull at his crotch. She waited while he re-crossed his legs. Then she came and stood beside him, staring down, a half-smile allowing him to see the even white teeth just above the towering domes of her fabulous tits.
"Where are you going to be working?" she asked. For the first time in two years she had the urge to feel a cock. She was a little surprised and disappointed to see no telltale bulge at his crotch, but in a sitting position it was quite likely he was hiding it. Two years ago, at a real-estate convention, she had fallen for the first time since Murray's accidental death. She had lasted two years and then surrendered, after far too much to drink, not to the lecherous woman-haters who seemed to make up most of the convention, but to a young salesman who couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-one. She had never been able to recall whether or not the young man actually satisfied her, but the fuck had dulled her sexual responses sufficiently for her to last until now.
"I'm with Condor Air Freight, and we're going to start hauling into and out of Los Angeles. I'm opening up the terminal, getting space and staff. So I'd say I'd want to be reasonably near or have access to the airport." The tits, when she straightened up and folded her arms under them, almost made him groan. "I know there's nothing near the airport, of course, but you'd know where would be best to live."
"Yes, of course." The warmth around her cunt was indescribable, bringing back sensuous memories of her early sex life when she and Murray had fucked with all the abandonment of carefree youth. "Let me go and see what we have in the listings and then I can get some idea of what you want to spend and so forth."
He had to turn to watch her ass again. It was only slightly larger than Robin's, he decided, firmer no doubt and beautifully rounded. He watched her all the way to the door, smiling weakly when she turned before disappearing through the door, and giving him a knowing, friendly smile.
Afterwards, they spent over an hour studying listings, reading descriptions and looking at photographs. She had suggested they move to a long, modernistic sofa which covered almost half a wall. There, side by side, she was able to describe the properties listed.
He was only half listening. The nearness of her hip and thigh against his, the haunting perfume which was penetrating his nostrils and always the big, bulging tits before his eyes whenever he turned to speak, all served to make the two weeks of stored sperm simmer in his balls. He couldn't be sure the persistent rubbing of her thigh against his was by accident or on purpose. But then she was spreading the snapshots of the various properties along his thigh, her fingers briefly touching here and there, and he thought he would go insane. Finally, in desperation, he suggested he take her to lunch before they went to see anything.
"That's very nice of you, but I'm liberated enough to take you," she said, laughing and keeping her face dangerously close to his, her shoulder pressing against his arm so that he thought his cock would burst. "After all, you are my client, and I know the best places for a sandwich at lunchtime."
During lunch he learned she was a widow, and had been for four years. He also learned about her son, Barry, who was seventeen.
After lunch, and while she was showing him some homes for sale and rent, he accepted her invitation to dinner at her place that evening, an overwhelming urge to fuck creeping into his groin as she smiled and squared her shoulders. Never had he seen such a splendid pair of knockers, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on them.
CHAPTER TWO
Robin Birks reluctantly replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle after talking to her husband, Scott. Beside her, young Steve idly flipped the pages of a magazine he was reading, while Donna was out in the hall nonchalantly primping at her hair before the full-length mirror. It was always this way, Robin decided, after talking to Scott. She waited all week for his call, and then when it came, she was left with a void, a let-down feeling, which would leave her morose and unhappy and strangely frustrated.
She studied the two children by Scott's first wife. There was no mistaking the fact they were not hers. Their characteristics were completely opposite from her own. Both had jet-black hair and dark-brown eyes, taken from both parents and in direct contrast to her own natural blonde hair and pale-blue eyes.
"Where are you off to?" Robin smiled at her stepdaughter, noting how mature the eighteen-year-old looked in the tightly fitted white sweater and matching shorts.
"Just driving around with Derek for an hour," Donna replied, putting the finishing touches to the hair at the side of her face. "I won't be late home, Robin."
Robin smiled at the girl. "Be careful," she grinned, watching the teenager's firm, young ass move rhythmically from side to side as Donna went towards the front door. Their relationship had been far more open than a mother and daughter's could ever be, as far as sex was concerned, and she was pleased she had talked the girl into taking the Pill.
"Now, Robin! You know I'm always careful." She flashed her stepmother a wide smile and disappeared through the door.
Robin Birks sat down beside her stepson on the sofa, running her fingers through his thick crop of black hair. "And what are you going to do, young man?" she asked. Her relationship with the boy had been quite different from that she enjoyed with Donna, the boy having taken to her more as a son desperately in need of a mother. Robin put it down to the wider age difference of sixteen years, together with the fact that the boy had obviously missed his mother.
"Nothing," he said, a little despondently. Then, as if it had been worrying him, he said, "Do you think Daddy will ever come borne?"
She gave a short laugh. "Good heavens, I hope so! Then we'll all be packing and flying all the way across the country. Won't you like that, darling?" She tousled his hair, then squeezed him affectionately against her.
"I wish he'd hurry."
A dull ache had settled in her chest, matching an itching in her cunt. The itch had been there for a couple of days, and she put it down to an erotic novel she had been reading each night in bed, and which had done nothing to relieve her hunger for a thick, meaty cock. To make matters worse, Bill Allingham had been called out of town unexpectedly. Otherwise, she could have called on him and Joan for at least one three-way sexing which would have satisfied her for at least another week.
"He's looking at places today and tomorrow," she assured the boy. At the same time she wondered briefly if Scott had already enjoyed a piece of tail. The thought of a strange woman fondling his prick brought a surprising shiver of jealousy coursing through her heart. She had always gotten a kick out of Joan Allingham playing with his cock.
"It's time for your shower," she said, smiling and putting her face on his shoulder, their cheeks just touching. "Then you can watch T.V. and maybe I'll make some popcorn."
The boy's face lighted up. "Okay," he said, leaping to his feet and starting for the bedroom. "We haven't had popcorn for ages."
Robin smiled at the boy's enthusiasm, and followed him down the hall. "I'll get you a bath towel," she said through the crack of his bedroom door.
"Okay!"
It wasn't until she had found a fresh, clean bath towel in the linen closet downstairs near the laundry room that she realized Steve had already forgotten about the towel and was already standing beneath the cascading spray of the shower.
Upstairs, she waited for several minutes outside the bathroom door, the dull ache in her crotch changing to a soothing warmth as she realized she would probably get a glimpse of the boy as he stood naked behind the glass doors of the bathtub. She knocked lightly on the door, knowing he would never hear. Then very slowly, she opened the door and stepped silently into the steamy moist heat of the bathroom.
A quiver ran through her cunt, and startling streaks of ecstasy burst wildly in her tits as her eyes flew to the glass doors behind which she could see clearly the image of his completely naked young body as he vigorously lathered his shoulders and chest. She leaned back against the vanity which was opposite the glass doors, her eyes hungrily taking in his slender, agile body. He had finished lathering and was moving forward into the spray, his head flung back, his curved back and young, firm ass beautifully rounded into a silhouette that made her groan with dismay.
Robin Birks was about to call out and tell the boy the towel was there, but as she opened her mouth, Steve suddenly stepped back. He seemed to adjust himself there for several seconds, and it was some time before Robin realized he was flow standing in such a position that the fierce spray was striking his cock and balls. A moment later, as her free hand swept up to her mouth and she gasped, she found herself watching, fascinated, as the boy proceeded to fondle and play with his prick.
In a matter of seconds, the boy's slender prick had risen majestically into a soldier-like prong. He used his left hand to squeeze and caress the little pebble-like nuts below, his right hand deftly priming the three or four inches of hard shaft into a straining, reaching little cock.
Robin fought back an urge choke excitement. There was no way she could drag her wide, excited eyes away from the boy's masturbation. She found herself hoping the boy wouldn't come, although the way he was going about it, together with the constant driving force of the titillating spray, would be more than even a full-grown man could stand. Then, with a start, she realized she had to do something to stop the boy, and at the same time make sure she herself could share in his enjoyment.
She pulled herself together, cleared her throat and tapped at the glass where he would see the image of her hand. "Steve!"
The boy's hand flew to his chest immediately, rubbing it all over.
"Have you washed your hair yet?"
"N-N-No..." he stammered. "I'm just starting."
He was bending over to reach for the bottle of shampoo, his boyish figure bringing a hot flash of lust to her already aching cunt. When he straightened up, she gave a sigh of relief. The little prick was still boldly upthrust, jerking a little as Steve began to apply the soap to his thick black hair. Her tits were tingling like crazy, just like they did when Scott and she got together with the Allinghams and Bill Allingham would ask her to join him for a dance. They always danced when they visited each other's homes, it being almost a ritual during which both wives were invariably bare-titted by the end of the first dance. From then on, they would stay topless so that either husband could admire and fondle whichever tit he wanted, for the rest of the evening.
To Steve Birks, the sudden presence of his stepmother was disconcerting. By accident, she had caught him naked before, usually when he was getting hurriedly dressed for school in the morning. But this was quite different, and he was scared she had seen him playing with his cock. He rinsed out the soap and lathered again, his mind whirling as he tried to convince himself his stepmother had seen nothing. Then, to his dismay, he found his cock was still hard, upthrust and obviously very excited.
Robin Birks was beside herself with excitement by the time Steve had rinsed off his hair for the second time. Unbeknown to anyone except herself and Scott, the glass doors on the tub could be seen through only from the outside. From the inside, the glass appeared mottled and bubbly so that nothing in the bathroom was clearly visible while one stood under the shower. These trick glass doors had provided Robin and Scott with many moments of sexual eroticism when they had studiously studied unsuspecting house guests taking a shower and who were completely unaware of their hosts' presence. Robin now wondered why she hadn't done this before when Steve showered, her eyes still focused on the straining little cock of the boy as he squeezed the last of the water from his hair.
"I'll dry your hair."
A startled shiver ran down Steve's quivering back. Relief followed as one glass door slid open to reveal his attractive young stepmother standing and holding up a bath towel which he gratefully grabbed, covering the front of his body.
"I have a smaller towel for your hair." She waited until he had stepped out of the tub before proceeding to dry his head of thick black hair.
She was rubbing very vigorously so that he was shaking to and fro, his stiff prick slamming against his belly, and showing no signs of diminishing. Just then he was aware that his face was but a couple of inches from her beautiful bouncing tits which were brazenly outlined in the front of her blouse. Her tits had always fascinated him, and now he realized he could just see the trace of the darker shadow at the vee of the blouse, the quivering ripeness of each tit barely discernible in the curved arcs on either side.
Robin Birks was studying the reflection of the boy in the mirror over the sink. He was holding the towel tenaciously over his front, but the slender back and beautiful round ass of the boy were delightfully bare. "There," she said finally, knowing it was the moment of truth, and not yet aware of a plan to make it all happen. "I think it's as dry as I can make it." She stepped back and smiled at him, trying to give him confidence. Then she brought her face forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. "You're getting more like your dad every day. Tall, dark and very, very handsome." The boy's eyes kept fleeting between her face and her tits, and she wished she had left the top button of her blouse unfastened. She always wore a shallow, flimsy bra which bunched up her perfectly round tits yet gave them a good deal of freedom. Downtown on the main street, few men could resist at least one, furtive stare. "Here, let me help you get dry," she said softly, dropping the wet towel and taking the top of the one he was still holding. "Then we can make our popcorn."
"No... no, please."
She smiled affectionately at him. "Oh, come on, you're a big boy now." A wave of excitement swept through her as he released his hold and sighed. "Hold out your arms, that's it," she cried, the warmth in her cunt now bursting into flame.
Steve Birks stifled a groan, his head swimming as an ache in his crotch burst suddenly free. He held his breath as the towel caressed his shoulders and arms, the movement causing the lower half of the towel to gently touch and stroke his pulsing cock. Instead of relaxing, it was harder than ever, reaching and straining like never before. Robin's tits, too, were moving up and down, the perfect domes rising and falling inside the nylon of the blouse. A moment later and he was shaking uncontrollably as Robin dropped to his knees, her hands on the towel and wiping around his waist. He tried to avert his eyes from her bobbing, globelike tits. Then he gave a despairing cry, flinging back his head to stare at the ceiling as if hoping that by doing so, he would somehow find himself elsewhere.
"Good heavens!" Her hands were on his hips, but the towel had looped between her hands to reveal the hard, upthrust little cock with its cluster of tiny balls suspended underneath. "What a darling! And so excited!" Her eyes were wide as she took in the boy's cock and balls which seemed to be even more erotic than she had imagined they would be.
"Please... please... Robin."
"Oh, darling! I never dreamt you were becoming so big."
"No, please... you mustn't..." He flung his hands in front of him, trying to cover his straining prick.
But she dropped the towel, having lost interest in drying him, her hands catching his wrists and holding them away. "You were exercising him, weren't you?" she asked softly, not wanting to make it sound like an accusation.
"What?" he asked weakly, staring down at the pretty face which was so obviously fascinated with his steaming cock.
"You were rubbing him in the shower, weren't you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He groaned in frightened despair. She had caught him after all, and a wave of guilt swept over him. Crimson started around the top of his young chest and spread quickly upwards and into his face. "You... you... please don't... I mean, please don't tell Dad."
She smiled up at him affectionately. "Not if you don't want me to."
"Promise?" He was frantic now that the whole thing was out in the open.
"Of course. It'll be our secret. I promise." She couldn't resist any longer, and she took the chance and released her hold on his wrists. A split second later and her fingers were closing around the thin cylinder of prick, the warmth and pulsing moistness of his cock startling her. "Oh my, isn't he nice?"
To Steve Birks, her fingers were like heaven around his cock. He shivered ecstatically, the soothing ache in his cock and balls indescribable. "Aaaagh..." he moaned, unable to believe the excitement coursing through every vein in his body. Then her other hand released his other wrist and a moment later her fingers were gathering in his boiling balls, clenching them firmly and tugging them now and again. "Aaaagh!" he grunted. "Golly..."
"Yes, he has to be exercised," she murmured. "You must always let me exercise him." She rubbed the warm, steaming little cock as the boy shuddered again and again.
His eyes were wild, like a stallion's when it has caught a mare and is ready to mount. Frantically he tried to half turn so that his hands could grasp at the edge of the vanity surrounding the sink. Then he braced himself, gasping for air and thrusting his pelvis forward as Robin settled to fondle and caress his blazing dick. "Aaaagh... no... please!" He hoped she wouldn't take his cries as broken pleas to stop. Never in his wildest dreams had anything felt so good, the way her fingers pulled on his pebble-like balls while her other fingers stroked back and forth along his pulsing, throbbing cock, almost driving him insane.
"Any little girls done this to you?" she asked, her voice far away and a veiled mist covering her eyes as they focused on his cock.
"N-N-No."
"They will." She gathered the tight skin and closed her fist around the cylinder-like prick, clenching and moving it downward to the base to hold it there while the little pink dome pulsed and quivered in ecstasy. "That feels good, doesn't it?"
"Great." He was out of breath, and he wasn't doing a thing.
She clutched the tiny balls which were showing signs of swelling, pushing them back, a sigh breaking through her lips as the boy obligingly widened his thighs to give her more room. "That's it," she whispered, a little globule of cum bunting suddenly from the little eye at the end of the straining cock.
He jerked uncontrollably at the pressure of her hand, another droplet of cum edging out of the tiny hole. He was breathing heavily and, try as he might, he couldn't keep his eyes away from her tits, which seemed even larger as they pressed themselves against the thin material of her blouse. Her thighs, too, now that her skirt was riding high as she crouched below him, seemed strangely erotic and filled him with lust.
"You made him beautifully hard for me, didn't you, Steve?"
He hadn't, of course, but the suggestion made him shiver. He wished she would rub his cock again instead of just forcing it to reach and strain. He tried to pull back for some relief, but her hold on his balls would give him no leeway. "Ooooh..." he groaned.
"Yes, he's very excited." Her eyes were but a few inches from the churning young cock. "Would you like me to kiss him?" The pointed projectile-like head of the boyish prick was inviting and exciting. She ran her tongue around her full, sensuous lips, knowing the urge was irresistible, but not wanting to turn the boy off. "Would you?" she asked dreamily.
"Mnnnn..." He wasn't sure what a kiss on his boiling cock would achieve. He was almost coming and he wondered if she knew.
She took his murmur as approval and opened her mouth wide. So wide that when she moved forward, the cock was right in before she realized it. Then she closed her lips, the silky strands of thin crotch hair around the base of the little cock tickling her lips momentarily. But then her tongue raised itself hungrily to cradle the throbbing prong, hesitating for a moment as the boy shook almost completely out of control. A moment later and the tongue was washing over the pulsing cone-like head, licking around the ridge which was barely distinguishable from the remainder of the little shaft, and she fought to contain the boy who was thrusting and jerking in a series of sudden convulsions.
His knuckles where he held onto the edge of the vanity were bone white. Never had he experienced such fantastic joy. Not even his wildest fantasies had ever given him such exquisite bliss and he tried to hold on, but knowing the mounting tension in his balls was ready to explode. "No... please... Robin..."
She withdrew her mouth from the slippery shaft, stared up into the frantic face of the boy as her fingers replaced her mouth on the shimmering, throbbing prick. "You must always let me do this for you, darling," she whispered, clutching the balls more firmly so that the wet, hot cock seemed to reach all the more. "I'll make him strong and powerful just like your dad's." She opened her mouth and placed it lovingly over the writhing, jerking cock.
Almost at once, Steve's hips went into a convulsive series of wild jerks. He had no idea what his father's cock looked like. It was probably six inches at least and twice as thick. Then he had a vision in which he saw Robin doing this to his father's cock, and he could no longer contain the boiling jism which was simmering in his balls. He tried to cry out, and his hands flew to her head, his fingers grappling wildly in her hair as he tried to warn her. But then his hips began a rhythmic churning back and forth. He cried out once, the cry fading in his throat as the taut little muscles in his cock finally gave up. Then he just hung on, trembling and shuddering under the onslaught of his orgasm.
To Robin Birks, her stepson's final release was the only approval she needed from the boy. For one fantastic minute the slim column of cock had extended itself fully into her hot wet mouth. She was still fascinated with the fact that she had so much room left in the cavern of her mouth. So much, in fact, that her tongue could do anything to the intruding, quivering prick. But then it was hardening even more, stretching itself hopefully under the continuous fluttering of her excited tongue. Five seconds more, as she fondled the hard little nuts more thoroughly and her free hand moved around and over the boy's jerking butt to hold him in place, and the reaching prick spurted the first thin jet of fuck juice. It struck the back of her throat with dart-like effectiveness. That was when she lovingly but persistently licked and sucked until Steve's balls were finally dry.
The following night, in L.A., Scott Birks was paying off the cabbie and appraising Pauline Harper's home at the same time. She had shown him two homes after lunch, and then he had retired to his hotel room to change and clean up, accepting her invitation to drop out for the evening and join her for dinner. Now, as his eyes took in the fabulous home set in its own grounds and far enough away from nosey neighbors, he wondered for the first time just what sort of income Pauline Harper must have to even maintain such a place.
She opened the door before he had a chance to rich mane of chestnut hair, wreathed in a big, fresh smile.
"I see you made it," she grinned, her eyes taking in the muscular chest made more prominent by the finely knit sports shirt. "Welcome to my home."
"Jesus!" His eyes traveled over the expensively furnished front room and hallways before dropping to admire her as she stood smiling alongside him.
"I gather you like it?" She was wearing a full-length hostess gown of bright yellow, which failed to hide her fully ripened tits.
He slipped one arm around her waist without thinking, as they walked through several rooms. "What sort of money buys a place like this?"
She flipped her head back and brushed at the shoulder-length hair with her fingers. "Not that much really. It belonged to a Hollywood starlet who went berserk after appearing in one movie. She made two grade-B movies and ppfft! It was all over and she was bankrupt. My husband grabbed this as soon as it came on the market. A friend of ours bought the two Cadillacs she had purchased, and that was the end of Tanya Toiler."
They were walking through patio doors towards a huge kidney-shaped pool surrounded by white sandstone blocks on which deck chairs, chaise lounges and umbrella tables were casually arranged.
"I thought you might like a swim before dinner," she said, turning her head to smile up into his face.
"I haven't anything to wear."
Her face broke into a wide grin. "We don't really need anything. No one can see."
A jolting streak of lust swept into his balls. All the time he had been getting ready at the hotel, he had tried to convince himself Pauline Harper was merely a real-estate agent hoping to make a sale, and all her obvious charms were merely selling aids to help her make that sale. He squeezed her waist delighted when she responded by turning to face him and put her hands on his chest.
"I was only kidding," she grinned. "Barry, my son, is just leaving and I want you to meet him. He'll have swim trunks you can wear, if you really want to swim."
"I'd love to. The hotel has a pool but I've been far too busy to try it."
"Let me pour you a drink and we can relax."
They drank bourbon on the rocks. It was still very hot even though the sun was fading fast, so that the scorching liquor did nothing to cool his bursting ardor. He thought of Robin and wondered if she felt the same way. Then Pauline's teenage son ambled through the patio doors, his thick mop of reddish hair and green eyes leaving no doubt as to his relationship with Pauline Harper.
"Barry, this is Mr. Birks."
Scott started to get to his feet.
"Don't get up, Mr. Birks." He shook the older man's hand. "I'm just leaving and I wanted to meet you after what Mom was telling me."
Pauline Harper had been staring admiringly at her son. At seventeen he was already a very handsome youth. It was something she worried about with the boy having no father at the most critical age. Yet they both had a very open relationship when it came to sex and worldly things.
"Before you go, Barry, I wonder if you could find some swim trunks for Mr. Birks so that we could have a swim."
"Sure, Mom. I'm sure I can find something."
As he turned to go, Pauline said, "Those knit ones you had last summer would do," a little shiver streaking around her cunt as she tried to imagine Scott Birks in the tight, binding little shorts.
Barry Harper hesitated but a moment, a little smile curling the corners of his mouth very briefly. "Yeah," he murmured thoughtfully, "sure, Mom. The knitted ones."
Later, after Barry had swept out of the driveway in his foreign sports car, Scott Birks walked self-consciously through the patio doors.
Pauline was already sitting up and finishing the last of her drink. "Well," she said, gazing admiringly at Scott's clearly defined cock which was upthrust and brazenly outlined in the thin material of the tight shorts. "Those look perfect. How do they feel?" It was all she could do not to burst out laughing as he tried to stretch the stubborn shorts a little higher.
"I can hardly breathe," he grinned, looking down and examining them himself. He'd had a partial hard-on ever since he had walked into her office that morning. Now the tight unyielding shorts seemed to caress his aching cock and make it that much bigger. He gave up trying to hide it, a little color creeping into his cheeks as he realized she was still admiring his tool, and then he reached for his drink and gulped the last of it. "Want another, before we have that swim?" he asked.
"Sure," she grinned. "Maybe it'll cool me off." She watched the hard, masculine ass and strong thighs as he strode towards the patio door. For the first time she had the feeling this was a man who could fuck her if he wanted. He was fantastically well-hung, and if he wasn't too hung up on that wife back home in New York, she sure could use that eight inches of dick he was flaunting at her.
Half an hour later, she struggled to her feet from out of the chaise lounge. Scott was still finishing his drink and wasn't paying attention. But then she was unzipping the yellow robe and casting it aside. A moment later and he almost choked as she stood, smiling down at him, wearing the briefest bikini he had ever seen; it barely covered the magnificent melon-like tits and the triangular beauty of her perfect crotch.
"Like it?" she asked.
"Jesus! It's breathtaking."
She held out her hand and hauled him to his feet. "I thought you might like it, seeing as how you are far away from home." They held hands, their eyes traveling over each other's straining bodies. There was nothing like a skimpy little bikini to make a healthy male warm up, she decided. Then her eyes were back at the swollen column of his cock beautifully poised behind the clinging fabric of the knitted shorts. "Last one in is a stinker!" she cried, unable to believe the excruciating streaks of sheer ecstasy which were racing through her tits.
They swam the length of the pool and back, Pauline clutching the safety rail with one hand and wiping her face with the other. "Marvelous," she said, grinning as he came along side her. His eyes immediately settled on the dome-like tits which bulged dangerously over the two-inch strip of the halter.
She squared her shoulders, purposely, the veiled lust in his eyes bringing a surging new warmth to her itching cunt. It was a foregone conclusion he was about to touch her, and she wondered how she should react to another woman's husband, even if he was far away from home and obviously very horny. Then his free hand was on her bare waist and his fingers were digging into her trembling flesh as he swung around in front of her. A moment later and his mouth was crushing hers, his broad, powerful chest squashing her tingling boobs so that they seemed about to burst. Then for the first time, the enormous upthrust cock was pressing itself hungrily into her belly, snugly sinking into the billowy softness as her cunt burst into flame.
"That was very nice," she said softly when they finally came apart. "You must be missing your wife." She had to mention his wife and give him the one chance to reconsider. She didn't know why she should. She just had to.
"Jesus! I just have to have you." His hand had moved up from her waist and was cradling one fabulous tit.
"How long has it been?" She was moving her crotch in a slow, teasing motion against the upthrust cock.
"Two weeks." His balls were almost exploding and he couldn't be sure he hadn't already come.
"I've been waiting two years."
"You're kidding." He couldn't believe this beautiful body had been deprived of cock for two years in L.A. "I thought L.A. was a swinging place."
She gave up resisting and moved her hand down between their squirming bodies, her fingers closing in around the throbbing shaft, feeling it through the woolly material of the shorts and driving herself insane. "I suppose it is, but I'm in business here. I'm not a little housewife no one knows. I have to be careful." She gave a little laugh. It was nervousness brought on by the impending knowledge she was about to get fucked. "Discreet is the word." The feel of the thick cock as she clasped it, intensified the yearning in her cunt. She turned her face and he kissed her again. It was a tender kiss, their lips opening partially and working slowly in hot, wet harmony. When she finally twisted away, she said, "Can you fuck discreetly?"
He made a choking noise in his throat as her hand moved over the top of the knitted shorts, her fingers edging teasingly down the inside until she could grasp his thick cock. He had to help her pry them over his hips, the shorts clinging stubbornly to his thighs and then his knees. Finally he kicked them off, looking up in time to see the thin halter strap disappear. A few seconds later and she was holding up the two-inch strip of nylon which had covered her cunt. Then she put her arms around his neck, her mouth crushing his as the magnificent big prick slid deliberately up to the very top of her clutching cunt.
"God!" she groaned, twisting her mouth away from his but still clinging tightly to his neck. "God, but that feels heavenly."
He held it in, fully extended. It was pulsing and throbbing in the glorious soft warmth. She worked her cunt muscles along the length of the steaming rod, making him shudder as his loins burst into flame. Then he grabbed the rail with both hands, kissing her briefly on the mouth before his face had fallen and was sinking itself into the billowing softness of one exquisite tit. Only then did his hips begin that frantic churning against hers, his excited cock sliding up and down the grasping tightness of her cunt. Faster and faster was the humping, his wildly gyrating body sending wavelets rolling the length of the pool.
She hung from his neck, panting and gasping, the feeling in her cunt unbelievable after all this time without cock. "Holy Mary!" she groaned, her hips now moving in time to his thrusts. Briefly she wished they had waited and fucked upstairs on her own big bed. Then she realized this was probably only the first screw for tonight. Later, after dinner, they would fuck all the more. "Yes... God, yes..." She tightened her arms but stayed far enough away for him to continue sucking on her tit. Then the unbelievable urgency in her twat made her hump along his cock even faster, the big shaft thickening noticeably and widening out her hole. "Yes... Jeez! Please... Scott... oh, God!"
Her cries only spurred him on. He switched to the other swollen tit, their size still astounding him as his tongue worked over the fully blossomed nipple. Then he was sucking on it, his hips beating a tattoo against hers as his powerful balls began to eject hot fuck juice. "Jesus, sweet Jesus..." he groaned, thrusting now like a well-oiled machine and driving the fuck juice to the tip of his boiling cock. "Yes! Oh, God." She had opened her legs and was curling them around his flailing legs. A few seconds later and he had thrust his prick in to the hilt, reaching and straining into her cunt as his pock belched forth a mountain of cum. He recoiled quickly and thrust in again, another gob of boiling cum taking her by surprise as it struck her cervix. He gave a series of jabbing thrusts, emptying his cock as he released his hold on the rail, both of them sinking slowly into the depths of the pool.
CHAPTER THREE
Scott Birks rifled through the mail on his desk in the new office at the terminal building. Workmen were still trying to put the finishing touches to the warehouse section, and the first shipment for New York had just arrived. It was a consignment from Japan, consisting mainly of auto parts.
There was nothing important in the mail, and he decided to go see Pauline about some of the houses he had been looking at.
At the offices of Harper Real Estate, he parked next to Pauline's convertible. Cindy Connors primped at her hair when he appeared through the glass doors.
"You can go right in, Mr. Birks," she said, flashing him a wide smile.
"I almost feel I work here," he said, more for something to say than anything else, although the slight delay gave him time to study her gorgeous tits.
She nodded in agreement as he started for Mrs. Harper's office.
Pauline Harper looked up from the deed she was reading when Scott knocked and walked in. "Well!" she grinned. "Have you made up your mind or do you want to see another place?"
"God, I don't know." He decided against the chairs and the long sofa and walked around her desk to sit on one corner. "I still like that Gilbertson property." His eyes had gone to the skirt she was wearing and which was biked across the top of her luscious thighs. It was a pleated white little skirt, each pleated fold appearing to point like an arrow downwards to her crotch and thighs. "Jeez, but you have a beautiful pair of legs," he groaned.
Pauline Harper laughed. "I was beginning to think I had nothing," she quipped. "It must be two weeks since you noticed anything about me."
"It's exactly two weeks," he said slowly, his eyes moving up to where the magnificent tits were pressing enticingly against the thin white sweater. "I didn't realize it'd been that long." They had fucked twice that night, the second one in the big bed where she had completely sucked him dry.
Since then, she had wondered if he had suffered remorse and felt guilty, but now looking at his open shirt and the thick crop of black hair clearly visible, the familiar tingling was back in her cunt. "I decided you must have thought I wasn't too good."
His cock was trying to raise itself, hopefully, in the front of his pants. "Frankly, I thought you were terrific."
"Out of practice a little," she said, almost apologetically. Then she sat up in the huge swivel chair and put her hand on his thigh. "I'm always willing to try harder," she went on, leaning forward and looking up into his handsome face.
He brought his mouth to hers and his hands to cradle the magnificent tits. His fingers closed into the yielding flesh as his tongue edged teasingly through the wet, luscious lips to find her tongue stabbing and darting like a startled little needle.
She managed to struggle to her feet as the kiss continued. Then, unable to stand it any longer, she moved one arm around his neck, and her hand which had been on his thigh to the big bulging cock at his crotch.
"Jesus!" he gasped as they broke apart. "Think we can go to your place for a swim and cool off?"
"Not if you're going to cool off," she grinned, her hand moving over the upthrust shaft as it stretched behind his fly.
"Then I'll take another look at the Gilbertson place. Robin's going to be awful mad if we're separated for another two months, but it's still the best place I've seen for the money."
Pauline Harper put both arms around his neck and pressed her lush body against his. "I'll keep you in shape for her," she said, grinning as a wave of ecstatic bliss swept through her cunt at the thought of having him for two months.
He moved both hands around her, and down to the fabulous ass, his fingers digging into the firm smoothness of each cheek. "You could, too," he admitted thoughtfully as his lips brushed hers. "You certainly could."
Later, when he had managed to get into the tight knitted swim trunks and walked out of the guest room, Pauline shouted from her bedroom. "You can come in, Scott. I'm almost ready."
He pushed open the door to find her balanced on one foot and pulling the bikini brief up over her knees and then her thighs, the heavy crop of chestnut-red hair at her cunt slowly disappearing as the triangle slipped into place. The huge, melon-like tits still bounced free, each moving majestically as she straightened up, a little grin on her face.
"Jesus!" he groaned. "I don't know if I can wait." He stood, almost sagging as she proceeded to hold the wispy triangles of fabric out before bringing them over the thrusting tits.
"That's good for you," she grinned. "Gets your sex nerves primed so that you'll do a good job later." She caught at the strings and slipped them around her back, turning slightly before asking him to tie them.
When he had finished, he ran his hands over the velvety smooth shoulders, a mounting wave of lust sweeping into his balls as his hands went over and down to where the huge tits were bunched and unbelievably silky-soft. His cock was a throbbing iron rod, and he edged it between the cheeks of her beautiful ass.
She put her head on one side and he kissed her on the neck, making her cringe. His hands, as they moved teasingly over her blazing tits, were making her boobs tingle excitingly, while the massive cock had brought a dull, yearning pain to settle achingly in her cunt. "I must say you feel very good already," she said softly. She was beginning to wish she had let him get into her cunt when he had first walked in. They could have worked off steam and left the heavy fucking for later. "Are you always this well primed?" She had her hands against his powerful thighs and she moved them up to the swim trunks.
"I am when I see tits like those." His hands were still molding themselves over the swelling fullness, and he was tempted to edge his thumbs inside the flimsy triangles and free the gorgeous tits.
She gave a little laugh. "Yes, you're quite a tit man, aren't you?" She edged one hand in between their squirming bodies and covered the massive cock. It throbbed and pulsed through the material of the swim trunks.
"You've got quite a pair, did you know that?"
"They're bigger than your wife's, I gather." She had no idea why she had to bring his wife into it, except that the last time she did, he seemed to get more excited. She closed her fingers around the covered cock as he shivered excitedly.
"Yes," he admitted despairingly, his fingers edging under the silky triangles of cloth and forcing them over the bulging nipples of her tits. Then his fingers were wildly grappling with the ripe brown nuggets, pulling and working on them as Pauline emitted startled little ones.
"Much bigger?" she managed to ask, knowing now that any reference to his wife only made him more excited.
His hands could now roam freely over the gigantic mounds which were trust out with practically no sag, but beautifully suspended from high on her chest. He cradled them, his hands wide and open and reaching under the fantastic globes. "Yes, quite a bit," he gasped, her hand still clasping his cock through the wool but not rubbing it.
She put her head back on his shoulder and sighed. "You certainly know what to do with them," she murmured. His fingers were like hundreds of worms wiggling and squirming all over her tits. "How big would Robin's be?" she asked softly, not wanting to put him off, and smiling as his huge cock jerked against her hand.
He hesitated and then closed his fingers around three inches of each tit. "About like that," he groaned.
"Oh, quite small."
"About like Jaffa oranges."
She couldn't stand it any longer and her fingers caught in the top of his trunks, prying them over the throbbing prick with the help of her other hand. It immediately arched itself, soldier-like between the billowy softness of her asscheeks. She pushed at the shorts until they dropped to his feet. Then she straightened up, the feel of the upthrust shaft as it pressed against her ass bringing a wave of mounting lust to careen through her cunt.
When her head was back and resting on his shoulder, she said, "There! Now he can stretch and relax."
Scott Birks made a choking sound. "Jesus! The only way he'll relax is by getting into your sweet cunt."
His hands were under her tits again, squeezing and lifting them in a series of jerky motions that had her shivering with mounting lust. "He's much too excited to fuck," she said softly. "Besides, we want to keep him for later." His fingers were tweaking at her nipples which were already fully engorged and quivering from his attention. "God, but you certainly know about tits," she gasped, the rippling streaks of ecstasy through her boobs driving her insane. "Robin's a very lucky girl." Again she was rewarded by an urgent thrust of his cock against her ass, and she was tempted to reach behind and hold down his dick so that she could ride on it. "Do you do this to Robin very often?" she asked as his hips began a regular writhing against her.
"Sometimes."
"Smaller tits are very sensitive."
"Are they?" Never had his hands grappled with such huge soft tits.
She didn't know how much longer either of them could stand this teasing foreplay. Her nipples were like jutting fingers and ready to pop out. His cock was stretching like crazy and she suspected it had just spurted a blob of hot precum which was trickling down the base of her spine. "Oh, yes," she whispered, "Robin's tits would be very sensitive once they're firmed." She gave a startled groan as he moved one hand flatly over her firm, round belly. She waited until it came back up to cup and lift a tit and squeeze it. "You'll be able to have these to play with anyway. That way you can have both kinds of tits to practice on."
"Promise?"
"Anytime." The excruciating feel of his hands was throwing her over the brink.
The thought of having this to enjoy in L.A. made all hope of stopping his urge to fuck her disappear. "All I want to do is fuck," he groaned.
"He's much too excited."
"He's excited to fuck." He'd never heard of anyone referring to a cock as if it were alive. He bunched the fabulous tits and stared at them through eyes veiled with lust.
"Has he ever been tit-sucked?" A mini-orgasm had just burst in her cunt and was seeping through the little triangle of the bikini brief.
"What?" he asked incredulously. He had never dreamt this beautiful, voluptuous woman would even know what cocksucking was all about.
"Tit sucked."
"Jesus, what's that?"
She pulled away from him and
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