Night With Mommy

by Sofia Connor

  Jen squeezed her breasts together as I rubbed my cock against her tits. I ripped the condom off and tossed it over my shoulder as my twitching cock wedged itself in between the valley Jen's tits had created. I thrust for a few seconds before I let out a long groan. Cum exploded out of my cock and covered her creamy white tits in my milky cum. I pumped my hips in the air and shot another rope, this one striking Jen's neck and chin. Jen took my cock in her hands, working it up and down and milking the extra cum from my cock and on to her tits. When she was done, I fell back and landed by the foot of her bed. I reached over and stroked Jen's legs.

  "How was that," I gasped. "Better?"

  "Much," Jen replied. She wiped the cum from her neck and licked it from her hand. "That was satisfactory."

  "Thank you," he replied.

  "I wonder, if you could go for 'excellent'?"

  "Again?" I asked, incredulously. "I know it's been a few months since I got some, but I don't know if I can go again."

  "Fine," Jen said with a disappointed tone in her voice. "I believe I'll have a shower."

  She picked herself off the bed and padded to the bathroom. I watched her going, her hips swaying. I heard the shower kick on and Jen step in. A few moments later, I began to hear Jen's moans from the shower. I knew what she was trying to do. I looked down at my semi-hard erection and saw it was working. Cursing, I picked himself up off the bed and reached back into the nightstand for another condom. I opened the wrapper and followed Jen into the shower. The curtain was open and Jen was soaking wet, her legs slightly parted and a finger inside of her pussy.

  "Took you long enough," she said. I took a few moments to put the condom on and then stepped into the shower when I was done. We shared a kiss, the hot water soaking my body. I took Jen by the hips and turned her around to face the wall. I entered her from behind and began to thrust. Jen put her hands against the wall while I reached around and put my right hand on Jen's crotch and stuck a finger inside. I slowly fucked her from behind while I stroked and tweaked her clit. Jen moaned and began to thrust her ass backwards against my cock.

  She looked back at me and smirked. "Make me cum this time and I'll let you cum in my mouth." I leaned forward and kissed her deeply. Jen broke the kiss and leaned forward against the wall, her ass grinding against my cock. Steam was rising off our bodies as the hot water hit it. I picked up the pace, my balls slapping against Jen's ass with a wet slap. Suddenly, Jen moaned and I pulled out just as her body shook with orgasm.

  She thrust her ass into the air and groaned, her fingernails scratching across the tile wall in ecstasy.

  I grabbed Jen by her hips and began to pull her out of the shower. I wasn't done with her yet. She turned off the shower and headed back to the bedroom. I laid her on her hands and knees on the edge of the bed, her feet hanging off the side. I stood behind her and slid my cock inside of her still recovering pussy. Her insides were still tight from her earlier orgasm, but I soldiered on. I thrust in and out of her in slow and long strokes. I ran my hands up and down Jen's curves while I picked up the pace. I put one hand on the small of her back to support myself. Jen was heating up again, her pussy walls becoming slick with her juices. She started to grind her ass against me. I reached out and took hold of her wet hair, pulling her head back slightly as I fucked her.

  The way she wriggled against my cock, I was so turned on that I contemplated trying to figure out if she would let me cum inside of her, or at least maybe even shooting my load on her back and enjoy the view. But I thought better of it. I picked up speed, my balls flapped against Jen's thighs. She shifted upright as I kept fucking her from behind. With my hands still on her hips, I sucked on Jen's warm neck while she held on to the back of my neck with support.

  "Harder," she groaned. I obliged, slipping my cock all the way out of her before I rammed it back inside of her. She shuddered against it. I thrust harder and harder inside of her. I felt the heat from Jen's ass and pussy and knew it was time. I pulled out as she came again, afraid that the feeling of her orgasm would push me over the edge. Jen gripped the bed and thrust her ass into the air, her legs and thighs spasming in erotic joy. I stroked my cock to keep it hard while Jen rolled over and crawled to the edge of the bed. She took my hard cock in her hands and yanked the condom off. She placed the head of my cock in her mouth, running her tongue across the tip.

  Jen sucked on it while her left hand worked up and down my shaft. I closed my eyes and groaned. I put my hand on the top of Jen's head, running my fingers through her damp hair. She deep-throated my cock and took her mouth all the way down, her tongue reached out and licked my balls. Jen pulled my member out of her mouth and ran her hand up and down the shaft while she sucked my balls.

  I let out groan as she looked up at me, one of my balls still in her mouth. "Are you ready to cum?" She asked, stoking my cock faster and faster. I nodded and Jen pursed her lips of on the head of my cock, sucking it while she worked her hand up and down the shaft. I put both hands on her head and bucked my hips. I moaned and let go, cum shooting out of my cock and in Jen's mouth. She kept sucking and jerking me until I was dry. She ran her tongue up and down my shaft one final time and I felt his knees almost buckle in delight. Jen pulled my cock out of her mouth and swallowed his load with ease.

  "Excellent," she said with a devilish smile.

  I fell on to the bed and breathed deeply. I was wet, sweaty, and exhausted. This was the best I felt in years. Jen laid down next to me on the bed and they kissed, I tweaked the nipple of her left breast.

  "I suppose asking for some anal would be pushing it?" I asked playfully.

  "I'm sorry, what was your name again?" Jen deadpanned. She curled up beside me and placed her hand on his stomach, resting her head on my shoulder. Jen closed her eyes and began to drift to sleep. Her body still had its erotic warmth to it, but she was slowly cooling off. I reached for one of the sheets and covered our bodies with it.

  I leaned my head back on the pillow and exhaled slowly. Sleep was approaching, but it was certainly a well earned sleep. All in all, not a bad way to end a date. In my mind, I was already wondering how the next date could top this.

  The End.

  The Dinner

  Three stories precede this one, in temporal order:

  Christine. A tale of lust.

  Angela. Teased and pleased.

  Adrian. A night of torment, or Angela's revenge.

  For North American readers these stories are written in British English so the vocabulary used may be a little different, as are lots of the spellings; we specialise in colour photographs fixed with thiosulphates. So no tushes and fanny refers to the female genitalia; external, internal, or both, dependent upon context. Garter belts are suspenders, bathrooms are commonly loos or toilets especially when they don't actually contain a bath, johns are bogs, we the British often wee, pee or even 'spend a penny' (I'm not too sure what polite North Americans usually do, but Literotica characters definately piss). If you think anything else could be usefully included in this brief Anglo – North American Dictionary, or if some of it is redundant, please let me know.

  The dinner.

  The anticipation of having to taste your own white slippery seed as your canape is actually worse than the deed itself, though I could now understand why Christine reserved sucking me to orgasm as an exceptional treat. After Angela's initial salty embrace I hardly noticed the tang of my own semen when I kissed Christine; whose vigorous tongue thrusting intimated that she would like my tongue elsewhere, followed by a lot of thrusting, also elsewhere: if you kiss Christine when she is really fired up she tries to eat you alive.

  When we broke apart Angela said, "Before we go down stairs I have a gift for our humble slave to remind it of its servitude. Here's your very own collar my little, obedient pet; admire it, then put it on." It was a large leather dog collar, it even had a name engraved upon it, 'big boy': very humorous. Angela also had a leash. Once I was collared and leashed they put on dressing gowns, yes pink ones,
and we all trooped down for dinner; whilst remaining naked, at least I was not made to go on all fours: though probably only because neither of them had thought of it.

  We sat at the table, at least Angela and I did, Christine scurried off to do something in the kitchen. "Right my obedient little slave here are your orders," Angela hissed, "after my dessert I am going to lure Christine back to the bedroom: there you will spread her legs over the arms of the chair as if preparing to give her a good licking and humping but then, instead, kiss her on the mouth as you gradually put all you weight on her. With her legs splayed like that she has no leverage there, so if you get her arms right she will be pretty well helpless. Next, keep you weight on her, but also assist me in tying her hands behind the chair, then stay put until I've tied her ankles. Only then do you get off her, when you stand to attention and await my further orders."

  "You're going to do her after dinner?"

  "Let's be clear about one thing," she snapped, "obedient slaves simply obey, they never dare to question their mistress. Imagine what it would feel like to have a mistress grab one of your nipples, squeeze it hard and then twist it as violently as she could?"

  I stayed silent. Christine returned with three small plates on a tray. On each were a few leaves of lettuce, three tiny strips of meat and a minute finger of bread, which turned out to be a miniature garlic bread; well just as long as we all ate it. Eat slowly, I reminded myself, eat slowly; there was, by my reckoning, three mouthfuls there.

  "So slave how was it? How was your little tease?"

  "Unbearable. Absolute bloody hell, torture really: in the end the entire fabric of your being is consumed with coming, you think orgasm, you breath orgasm, the whole point of your existence is to be driven to come; climaxistentialism. Your balls are screaming with tension, you pray for your nipples to be left alone, tickling and licking them makes every other sensation feel that much more intense, and most of all you long for anything to speed up, just a tiny fraction, because that's all you need to push you over into joyous squirting. That's why that, you called it 'slow masturbation', is so very effective. The slow strokes build the tension alright, they're what makes everything throb with a desire so desperate, a need so pressing. The quick strokes, they offer a promise that is broken so quickly that it breaks your heart."

  "And your orgasm, bottom a little sore, eh?"

  "It was ecstasy, my brain and balls exploded with the intensity of it all; throbbing, aching penis screaming urgency, the intensity of these signals hugely amplified by your nipples, and... I cannot described the other: when you do explode that makes the difference between a tap and a water-cannon; a puddle and a lake. What did you do?"

  "Christine?" queried Angela.

  "I stuck a well-greased finger in your bum and stroked your prostate," she replied matter-of-factly.

  I blushed, but she could do that again anytime: as a boost to orgasm the sensation was out of this world. Incidentally, so was the meat; there was not very much but there were three different sorts, each quite distinct and each grilled to juicy succulence. One of the advantages, in those bygone days, of living where game was plentiful and, as a bonus in the shooting season, it was also dirt-cheap. This was both the end of the first course and, to my relief, the end of my embarrassing questioning.

  Second course was two dishes done in slow-cookers, the food and Christine herself. Christine apologised for the simplicity of the dish, but she did not know how long we would be and her casserole could not be spoilt. It was the rest of the game cooked up with veg., but no potatoes, rice or pasta: the pleasures of gluttony were not going to be permitted to interfere with the delights of vanquishing lusts. "Slave, the fickle finger of truth is pointing at Christine, ask her a deeply probing question, something to keep us entertained whilst we tuck-in."

  I thought and I thought. Then inspiration, "Christine, you and Angela are pretty uninhibited, really close friends and both man-free zones for years, did you ever, well... well, have sex together?"

  "Once," Christine confided. "It didn't work. Angela's divorce went, sour: rancid in fact. She came round in floods of tears, totally distraught; he had collected the kids from school and the three of them had simply vanished. I cuddled her, comforted her and eventually, slightly pissed, we ended up in bed together. I kissed Angela, chastely, it was supposed to be a consoling goodnight kiss. Next thing I know I'm pinned on my back by a lioness attempting to prise my jaws apart with its huge, slick, hot, wet tongue. As you said, I'm broad minded and Angela needed a lift, right then I knew she needed me really badly; so I did to her all the things that I would have liked a man to do to me: well all the things I was physically capable of. Angela loves women, perhaps more so than men, she was suddenly sky-rocketed from destitution to riches and she responded. Oh my, I had enjoyed sex in my time, but I had no idea that a woman could come that many times, that quickly, and keep coming back for more. Of course, Angela wanted to pay her debts and return my caresses: she'd unveiled bliss in the middle of despair. It turned out to be hopeless, I just could not get started, she tried everything and anything: it was totally useless. It was nice, all of it was really pleasant and delightfully soothing, but it didn't set my pulse racing and my juices flowing. I could give, whole-heartedly, without reservation, but favours returned just did nothing for me: pleasure but no passion. So we put it down to experience, didn't try again but stayed best of friends. We've shared a bed since, but never again one another."

  "Such close friends that Christine even persuaded her newly discovered and much treasured man to screw me, as my birthday surprise" Angela was in tears. "She really is my very best friend." She dabbed her eyes, we appeared to have finished eating, no one was for seconds.

  Christine had sounded wistful – I'm not particularly good at relationships, well not some parts of them; I cannot, for example, ever pass a compliment convincingly, even when I know I really ought to: I freeze up, my mind goes blank, my tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth – yet even I caught the melancholy in Christine's tone: she desperately wanted to, and could not, share with Angela. "Christine my cheesecake will make us all smile again," the recipe I follow cheers, heartens, warms, increases obesity and hardens arteries with each and every single spoonful. Christine collected our plates and disappeared into the kitchen. As soon as she was gone I hissed, "Angela. No just drop all that slave stuff for five seconds, there's no time! Shall we tease Christine together, work as a team, fingers and tongues united in a common cause. I'll get her started, then once she is good and randy you can join in too? You might not be able to set her fire alight but I'm certain that you can assist with piling on the fuel and fanning the flames."

  Men do nothing for me, nothing what-so-ever, not even one secret adolescent erection I'm too ashamed or embarrassed to admit to: simply nothing. And it's not lack of opportunity, at university I had a wide circle of gay friends as my, then current, girlfriend was bi-sexual. But during the long slow session of masturbation I had just endured I knew that if Angela had swapped her place with a man I would have begged and pleaded him just the same as her and promised anything to anyone if they would just stop and suck me off.

  Angela nodded her consent, vigorously, "Now I can see what Christine found in you. You're the same as she is, you can give without asking what, if anything, you will get in return."

  "Don't ever trust to that with money," I admonished.

  Angela laughed, Christine returned, the tension evaporated and we re-entered our roles. "Big boy, my little lap-dog, my obedient slave, my subjugated chattel, why the hell is your head not buried between my thighs, your tongue sunk deep into my fanny and licking for dear life itself? I told you, you are to eat pussy for pudding: so get cracking." I dived under the table. A few minutes later Angela spoke, "You know Chrissy, cheesecake is delicious; but cheese-cake whilst you cream, that's exquisite. I'm enjoying mine right now, but there will be plenty left over when I am gorged, won't there 'big boy'? My mouth was too full to reply.

 
"Christine, as this seems to be your confessional, tell me do you really enjoy anal sex?" Angela quizzed. I'm not sure how much of the answer Angela took in, as she kept having another orgasm, but I got Christine's message.

  "It's no big deal, if your man's gentle, and he's not too big; in fact it's really quite nice. If Adrian has been good we normally finish off doggy style, it's fun, he gets to watch – grandstand view in fact – but it doesn't make me come. If Adrian's performance has been exceptional, or I want him to agree to something, I suck him off at the end: for him that's a real treat but, truth to tell, I would prefer not to. How do you think I paid for your birthday present? Now anal sex: most men adore it, I find it more exhilarating than doggy, you can't get pregnant, it's good if your period's heavy and your man's also randy and it's an absolute life saver after you've had a baby. I thought I'd see how Adrian reacted, he's never seemed that keen but, once sampled oft' returned to." At this point I probed Angela's slurping slot with the tips of two fingers, she thrust forwards, impaling herself upon them and as a consequence lost all self-control: the following morning we had, literally, to scrape half chewed cheesecake from the wall opposite to where she was sitting.

  Once Angela was thinking clearly once more, the rest was a doddle. Angela talked Christine upstairs for a drop of Irish whiskey and a comprehensive licking, 'Christine's Irish cream' she named it: she had even brought a bottle of Jameson's as bait – until then we had shared a large bottle of local dry perry, equal to about half a bottle of wine, so we were all quite sober; sobriety is essential when you play games of bondage, no good the teaser nodding off, or worse, turning nasty. We secured Christine with no perceptible difficulty; once you are sitting in an arm chair with your legs splayed over the arms, you're pretty well immobilised anyway. Despite the earlier conversational switch-back, she was still incredibly randy, indeed raring to go, so it only took a matter of minutes to return her to a state of desperation and not much longer to extend this to a state of uncontrolled depravity. I did the full body lick and settled down to the basics, lick Christine's clit, finger her fanny, lick the sensitive strip between her two holes for a while longer.