Kathy Andrews Collection

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Kathy Andrews Collection Page 171

by Kathy Andrews


  She felt her son pushing his hips against her. She was covered only by the thin sheet, and she felt his hardness on her hip. She couldn’t believe her son had a hard-on close to her this way, but there it was, throbbing away as he pressed against her. Marcy’s first thought was to push her son away, make him go to bed. But then she felt that thrill in her stomach again, and her resolve to shove him away faded. She didn’t know why she was reacting this way to her son, or the way she had reacted to the gentle touch of Susan’s hand on her cunt, but she was, and it felt good.

  She gasped when she felt her son’s small hand slide up her body, his fingertips barely touching the curve of her tit. She found her breath caught in her throat when her son moved his finger against her tit, and at the same time pressed more firmly at her hip. She could feel his cock throbbing through the sheet and her gown.

  “Jer…” she whispered throatily.

  He didn’t answer, sneaking his fingers up over the curve of her tit and rubbing very slowly at her hip with his cock.

  “Jer… darling,” she tried again.

  A low moan came from her son, and his palm cupped her tit.

  Marcy froze, not daring to breathe.

  This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. But her son was holding her tit. He wasn’t squeezing or moving his hand, just holding it cupped about the firm roundness. And his cock, so hard, was pushing at her hip. The only thing between them was the thin sheet and her gown. She was certain his robe was open, his cock showing.

  She could hear Jerry’s breathing, feel it hot on her flesh. He was almost panting as he very carefully pushed his throbbing hard-on against her, and she felt a very slight squeeze on her tit. Marcy lay still, fighting the shivers running about her flesh. The light was on, and her eyes were open, but she saw nothing. Moisture seeped from her cunt and into the crotch of her panties, her clit swelling quickly. She felt a burning lurch between her legs, and bunched the cheeks of her ass tightly, a very low moan bubbling from her throat.

  She was cutely aware of her son’s cock, of the hardness of it, the heat burning through the sheet, and the crazy thought flitted through her mind that his cock could blister her flesh because it felt so hot. She squeezed her thighs tightly, yet trying to be as still as she could, not wanting her son to know the effect he was having on her. She was just as surprised at her own reactions as she was by his. Marcy had never been that erotic, yet there were changes, sudden changes, coming over her mind and body.

  She trembled, the movement obvious to her son.

  “Mother…” she heard Jerry’s voice, oddly husky, a tone she had never heard from him before. She recognized it as the sound her ex-husband used to make when he wanted some pussy.

  Marcy knew she should stop him, move his hand from her tit, push him away so she wouldn’t feel his cock against her. Yet she couldn’t. All she could do was lie stiffly, shaking. Jerry didn’t say anything more.

  But he was pressing harder against her hip, and the rubbing of his cock was more pronounced. She felt his small hand squeeze tentatively at her tit. When she didn’t say anything or brush his hand away, Jerry became bolder. He squeezed her tit tightly, her nipple bulging into his palm. Marcy held her breath, feeling the rippling excitement in her body, an excitement that was totally new to her. She had never really enjoyed having her tits fondled or felt, yet there was no way she could deny this sudden, unexpected pleasure she now felt.

  She felt her son’s lips on her neck, kissing her lightly, and his hand was moving on her tit. He felt it, then slowly slipped his hand to the other tit. Marcy was holding her breath until her lungs were ready to burst, afraid to move or speak.

  She was shaking violently now, one hand wrapped about her son’s shoulders, the other at her side, fist clenched. Her cunt seemed on fire, as if a match had been pressed against it, but not a burning pain — it was a fantastically erotic burning. Just as it had done when Susan, Jerry’s stepmother, had stroked her, Marcy’s cunt was turning very juicy, tingling, until she wanted to scream with the sensational feelings. She knew that by not resisting, not protesting, she was giving her son consent to fondle her titties. She knew that Jerry knew, too. On one hand she wanted desperately to stop him now, but on the other hand she wanted him to keep doing it. He was rubbing his cock up and down against her now, not trying to conceal his desires. He was humping at her hip as if fucking her, and Marcy found she was starting to squirm, to writhe and keep the contact of his cock against her.

  It was a moment before she understood Jerry was no longer fondling her tits. Her eyes had closed as the steamy pleasure came over her, and she had been panting softly. She felt her son’s fingers sneaking into her gown, and again she was holding her breath. She felt his finger carefully touching her bare tit, scraping over her nipple.

  The orgasm was fast, before she knew it was going to happen. Suddenly as her son touched her naked nipple, Marcy came. It happened so fast she gushed, unable to stop the sound, and her hips jerked. She turned her head away from him, toward the wall, purring. Her arm tightened about his shoulders. Jerry apparently took the reflexive squeeze of her arm as permission.

  He pulled her gown away from her tit and placed his mouth on her nipple, and started sucking at it, pushing his throbbing cock against her hip without trying to be subtle about it now. He was fucking at her body, sucking on her nipple with his hot, wet mouth, his tongue flicking eagerly. She heard her son making moaning sounds of hot pleasure, and her arm squeezed him down onto her tit. She felt she should say something, anything, but her voice refused to work. She gurgled softly, but no words came out. Her fist opened, and she began to shove the sheet down her body. When it was at her hips, she lifted her gown and moved her hand through the silky curls of her cunt. The sheet hid her pussy as she moved a finger to her clit. She couldn’t believe how hard it was, how sensitive, how tingling it had become.

  Jerry, making wet sounds as he sucked at his mother’s tit, scooted his hand down to her stomach, resting it there. Marcy began to shake and slowly rub the edges of her distended clit, thinking how crazy this was to lie here and let her son fuck his cock at her hip while he sucked her tit and she fingered her cunt. The heat of his palm burned her stomach through the nylon of her gown, and suddenly Marcy gasped again.

  Her son had pushed his hand down, found hers there, felt her feeling of her own cunt. The suction on her tit increased until Jerry was sucking vigorously. She didn’t stop him when he pushed his hand under hers, palming her cunt. She pressed her hand at his, moaning softly as the pressure of her son’s palm burned through the crotch of her panties.

  As if in a wild, erotic dream, Marcy used her feet to pull the sheet lower, then spread her legs. Jerry sucked hungrily at her tit now, rubbing up and down the crotch of her panties, feeling her cunt boldly. The only sound in her bedroom was their heavy breathing, and the occasional sound of the bed moving. Marcy knew she was urging her son on top of her, but she felt so dreamy, so much in a trance, it wasn’t really happening. She pulled him until he was on top of her, between her thighs, his lips never leaving her swollen tit. She felt his cock pushing at her panties, pressing at her cunt. She could feel his swollen cockhead trying to slice through her panties, trying to get into her cunt. Her legs opened without any real conscious thought from her, and Jerry was humping his ass up and down, sucking noisily at her tit. She moaned when the swollen head of his cock pushed forward, almost shoving her panties into her cunt.

  “Wait,” Marcy finally whispered in a low, throaty voice. “Wait, Jerry.”

  His response was to stop pushing his cock, but he kept sucking hungrily on her tit. Marcy couldn’t believe she was doing this, yet her hand was sliding between them, hooking into the crotch of her panties, pulling it open, out of the way.

  “Now!” she whispered.

  Jerry moved forward, the head of his cock sliding into his mother’s exposed cunt. Marcy gasped as she felt her son’s stuffing prick, the way her cunt opened and stretched for it. Slowly,
as if expecting her to stop him at any time, Jerry fucked his cock up his mother’s cunt. Marcy felt it go deep into her cunt, then she felt his balls resting on her ass. She was afraid to move again, but her cunt was pulling at his cock of its own volition, sucking gently.

  She could feel his cock throb inside her pussy, and his suckling was hot and greedy on her tit. She lay still for whet seemed a long time, feeling her son’s cock in her cunt but not moving.

  She held her legs open and spread her arms over her head, stretched out, the feel of her son’s cock causing her mind to spin, her eyes closed and lips parted slightly.

  Marcy’s hips moved.

  From side to side, not up and down.

  That was all it took to start Jerry moving. She felt his cock pull back, sliding from her wet cunt. When she thought he was going to take his cock out, she placed her hands on his robe-covered ass, holding him so he couldn’t lift up. Then she pulled down on his ass, lifting her hips slightly, taking his cock back into her cunt.

  Jerry grunted around her tit.

  Marcy gave a soft sob.

  Her hips pumped.

  Jerry held his body up with his knees and elbows, still sucking at her tit. Marcy couldn’t believe she was fucking her son, riding very slowly up and down his cock with her cunt. But she was… she was fucking Jerry!

  Her hands curled around the checks of his ass, the robe still there, and moved her ass up and down, feeling his cock sliding between the gripping, fiery, hairlined lips of her pussy. Her cunt scraped the shaft of her son’s hard cock, something she didn’t remember feeling when her ex-husband fucked her.

  She pulled at her son’s ass, and soon Jerry was pushing his cock down as she lifted her cunt, drawing up as she lowered her ass. They were fucking each other, and Marcy was afraid and elated and ashamed and trembling with increasing ecstasy. She was feeling things she had never felt when she had gotten fucked before. Things that were strange and delightful and good and delicious.

  She began to make purring sound deep in her throat. She moved her hands, shifting her son’s robe, sliding her hands under it to cup the cheeks of his naked ass. Her own ass pumped with his stabbing cock, slowly and not in a frenzy, his balls touching her ass as she came up, his cock going so deliciously deep.

  She wanted to say things to him, whisper hot words in his ear, but although she was feeling an intense rapture, she could only moan and cry out softly as his cock thrust in and out of her cunt.

  She closed her thighs against his, scissoring them open and closed, her hands holding each cheek of her son’s pumping ass, her fingers resting at the split, almost between them.

  “Ooooooh…” she purred.

  “Mmmmm!” Jerry gurgled.

  His cook came up and down slowly, fucking in and out of his mother’s cunt completely, from swollen head to base. He never pulled his cock all the way out of her pussy, but just before the cockhead came free, he pushed back into it, so slow Marcy wondered if she would go out of her mind. The powerful urge to slam her cunt up and down hard and fast on his cock was very hard to resist. She wanted to fuck him frantically, increase the friction of his throbbing hard-on against the fiery tight walls and lips of her juicy cunt.

  “Ahhhh!” Marcy moaned.

  “Oooommm!” her son responded.

  Marcy fought the urge to ram her cunt onto his cock, fought the urge to grip his ass tightly, fought the urge to push his young hands down under her ass, fought the urge to scream out this unknown ecstasy. She couldn’t believe the feelings rumbling through her, couldn’t believe she had her son’s cock in her cunt, that she was fucking him. It had to be a dream, she tried to tell herself, but the sensations were so real. And if it was a dream, it was unlike any she had ever had. She never had erotic dreams — never.

  The slow fucking was driving her crazy, yet she did nothing to increase the pace. She was afraid to, afraid of her own responses, afraid that her son would accuse her, afraid he would think badly of her. But the feeling in her cunt — in her complete body — was about to send her screaming mindlessly with the wildest ecstasy she had ever experienced. Her clit felt as if it was tight, ready to burst like a ripe grape. Still, she could feel the throb of her son’s cock sliding in and out of her cunt.

  She was getting very wet now, and she could feel her pussyjuices seeping around his cock, drenching his hot balls and the insides of her thighs.

  Her ass humped up and down, matching his slow penetration. She began to stroke his ass and moan, her head turned to one side, eyes closed, lips open as she panted. She caressed her son’s ass under his robe, slid her hands up to the small of his back, then down again, stretching her fingers to tickle the backs of his thighs, then cupping the firm, tight cheeks of his ass again.

  She wanted to lift her legs, wrap them hotly about her son’s humping ass, and beat his body with her heels. She wanted to scream and cry and urge her son to fuck her, to fuck her fast and hard and deep, to bruise the tender lips of her cunt, smash her inflamed clit.

  But she couldn’t.

  She didn’t know what Jerry was doing with his hands, but she wanted them on her body, holding her ass, squeezing her shapely asscheeks as he fucked into her cunt with powerful violence. She began to gasp hotly as her stomach rippled, her cunt grabbing at her son’s cock. She humped a bit faster, grinding in almost slow motion on his banging prick. She felt an orgasm glowing inside her body, and she fought to stop it. The harder she tried to keep from coming off, the better the sensation felt. She cried out softly, and her son made a whimpering sound.

  She knew he was about to come, too. She knew her son was trying to keep from coming inside her cunt.

  But there was nothing either of them could do.

  Marcy bit hard into her bottom lip to strangle a threatening scream, her cunt clasping hotly and wetly around her son’s cock. The spasms that exploded in her cunt were strong, stronger than any orgasm she had ever had. Her pussy pulled at his cock, the satiny walls rippling along his cockshaft. His balls churned at her ass when Jerry thrust inward, his ass tightening as his body became stiff.

  He shuddered, almost biting her nipple.

  “Ohhh!” Marcy sobbed, feeling her son’s cock gushing his fiery comejuice into her cunt.

  He was squirting hard, and she felt it all, despite the power of her convulsing cunt. She was coming in wave after wave of ecstasy, her finger at last digging hard into his naked ass, holding him deeply in her pussy. The contractions went on and on, and she wondered if her son would ever stop squirting that thick, boiling fuckjuice into her pussy.

  All too soon it was over.

  Jerry slumped on her body, gasping for air, shaking.

  Marcy relaxed her grip on his ass, her legs falling wide. She drew in air deeply, and she felt embarrassment flood her. She could feel the heat on her beautiful face, and a couple of tears dripped from her closed eyes. She wasn’t sure why she had tears in her eyes. It could be out of her embarrassment, but then it could be due to her orgasm. She had never felt such power before, such ecstasy.

  After a moment Jerry lifted his cock from his mother’s cunt, sliding off her bed. Marcy peeked, catching a glimpse of her son’s cock before he closed his robe around it. It was wet, soft, with a few strands of curly hair. His balls seemed to hang very low, much lower than she would have thought on a young boy. His cock was wet with her cuntjuices, and she felt a catch in her throat as she saw it.

  Jerry said nothing, turning his back to her and walking out of her room, not rushing, as if he expected her to call him back.

  After he was gone, Marcy curled up in a ball, her knees drawn to her tits, feeling his comejuice seeping from her pussy, and began to cry softly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Marcy tried to avoid her son for the next few days, but that was impossible.

  Jerry didn’t leave the house, and almost everywhere she was, so was he, looking at her. When she would turn, she would catch his eyes on her body before he turned his head away.


  Filled with embarrassment, Marcy tried to analyze what had happened, trying to understand why she had allowed her son to fuck her, why Jerry had even wanted to fuck her, his mother. She found no answers. Her response to him had surprised her as much as letting him fuck her.

  Marcy dressed in ways that concealed her body, not wanting to tempt her son into a hard-on. But it did no good. She noticed his cock bulging almost constantly. She wondered if he was jerking it off, thinking about how it had felt inside her cunt, fucking her. For the first time in her life, Marcy was thinking about sex almost day and night. It was new to her, all these thoughts of hard cock and her wet cunt, how it had felt with her son’s cock in her cunt. And, to her horror, she was thinking in just those terms… cock, cunt, pussy, fuck and prick.

  If being embarrassed about fucking her son wasn’t enough to torment her, Susan had started calling her often. Susan never used to call her at all, except to say when she would pick up Jerry for his weekend visits.

  “I don’t know what’s got into me,” Susan had said during her last call a few moments ago. “I know I shouldn’t use you as a sounding board, seeing as how we’re what might be veiled wives-in-law.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Susan,” Marcy had said. “I understand very well what you’re going through with Brad. I was married to him for a number of years, remember. None of this is new to me.”

  “Marcy, about Saturday.”

  “Forget it!” Marcy said quickly feeling her face turn warm. She glanced at Jerry, who was sitting on the couch. Turning her back to her so she said softly into the phone. “It was done and over with, Susan. It was one of those things. I’ve forgotten about it. It won’t happen again.”

  “It was lovely,” Susan replied. “I mean, touching you that way. I suppose I should feel ashamed of myself, but I don’t.”

 

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