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She was a force to be reckoned with: while he was trying to extricate her soft, alluring respite of flesh and tight budding nipple, she was furiously grabbing at his belt and zipper, intent on unleashing a sexual fury that he’d never felt before now. He was all too willing to assist. Quickly, he tore at her buttons, pulling apart her finely woven, expensive silk blouse like it was tissue paper, and then reached down and let himself loose. In a frenzy of flesh and brawn she was down on her knees, determined to submit to the essence of this man—this man who’d no more than two minutes earlier been groveling to her about his long-unacknowledged obsession with such genuinely pitiful and heartfelt honesty that it lit her up like a gas lamp. She nipped at the head of his cock like a tiger starved for days. As she drew him in with all the fervor of an animal in heat, he gasped, sucked in and pulled away as quickly as he could, but it was too late. A flood of cum roared out and saturated. Part of me was terrified of my father to discover us as we were. Part of me wished for Big John to discover me banging his wife. Since she didn't move I was left to wonder what Mom was thinking. As I focused and concentrated on the sound of his footsteps I thought it sounded as if he was crossing from the kitchen towards the stairs. That thought was confirmed when I heard my father began ascending the steps.Things became even weirder. Shifting, Mom laid her forehead to mine, her nose to mine and we stared into each other's eyes. Then without moving I felt sensations dancing upon my cock. My eyes must've opened wide in surprise because reflected back was a look of a wanton, wicked mischievous look.As we listened to him climb the stairs, my mom's pussy squeezed and relaxed on my cock as if it was a hand and the fingers were flexing independently. My mind floated in a state of disbelieving ecstasy as Big John walked down the hallway, his footsteps barely audible on the wood floor as my.
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