Introduction:
A morning's work is well paid for by Damian's ultra hot neighbor. , Awakening on Titwhistle Lane
CHAPTER 7 – Mrs. Bustle shares her hidden talent with Damian.
The summer sun beat down on Titwhistle Lane, with a relentless fury, the morning that Damian resumed his yard-care services. His shoulder and hip had healed nicely, leaving red patches of new skin but he appeared otherwise unscathed. Wishing his overprotective mother a cheerful goodbye, the boy exited their home with a smile on his face and an EpiPen in his pocket.
That morning he had been up early, reviewing his schedule, and trying to decide whose yard was in the most need of care. Admittedly, he knew the widow woman, Pearl, was the most likely candidate but Mrs. C. Bustle's hedge was also ragged and in need of pruning. Tip or tits? It was a tough question but his teenage mind quickly steered him to the home of Connie Bustle, his mower and hedge-trimming equipment in tow.
He enjoyed working for the Bustle's. Aaron Bustle was a fun-loving character who seemed to spend as much time on the golf course as he did at work. Damian had no idea what he actually did but he dressed well, drove a sweet BMW, and was blessed with a beautiful wife. Connie was at least 10 years his junior. Her hair color changed more often than the seasons and at the moment she was a flaming redhead, but that could change tomorrow. Damian guessed her to be almost 40, but she was fit; her body having never endured the onslaught of pregnancy. Instead of children, the couple had opted for a pair of golden retrievers that were their babies. The pair of mutts were named Harry and Sally after one of the couple's favorite movies.
The Bustle's backyard was situated such that Damian could see into their yard from his bedroom. He knew it was creepy but he'd often been drawn to the window to stare at the hour-glassed beauty as she'd sunbathed. Her breasts weren't overly large, unlike the way Mrs. Wentworth was built. The Bustle woman's appeared firm and perfectly shaped, and she certainly wasn't afraid to flaunt them, along with her other very shapely assets.
Standing on the Bustle's front porch, Damian smoothed back his hair and noted his forehead was already damp with sweat. “It's gonna be a scorcher,” he mused quietly. Seconds later the door swung open and Connie greeted the young man with a bright smile and welcoming 'hello'.
“Good morning,” Damian said, returning the warm greeting.
“You finally here to trim my hedge?” Connie said, winking at the boy.
“Yup…sorry I couldn't get to it earlier. I've been laid up for a couple of days and…l”
Mrs. Bustle stepped onto the porch and quickly walked around her yard-care specialist. “Yeah, I heard you took a nasty fall, but you're looking pretty good,” she said, suddenly changing her voice to a strange Spanish accent.
“Well…thanks, but anyway…”
Before Damian could finish his thought, Connie ran her hands over the boy's arms – from shoulders to wrists. “Yes, you can hardly tell where you were hurt. Was it your hip too?” she asked, allowing her wandering hands to search out Damian's sides and hips.”
“Um…yeah…the left one…there,” he said, pulling his shorts down slightly so Connie could investigate the site of insult.”
“Ooooo…still looks a little sore,” she said, while gently touching the patch of pinkish skin. “Does it hurt when I do this?” she asked, applying a bit more pressure with her fingers and then her palm. As she did, her fingertips danced dangerously close to his navel and the short crop of hair that sprouted beneath it.
Damian suddenly tensed up and he let go of his shorts so they could rebound back to his waist. “It's not too bad,” he replied, looking around to see what neighbors might be watching.
“Well, I for one am glad that you are back to work,” Connie continued, removing her hand from the boy's sleek frame. “You've got the run of the place today. Aaron's at the links and I'm just hangin' out, as you can see,” she said, waving her hand over to accentuate her outfit. She was dressed very casually in a tight t-shirt and tiny shorts that bisected her ass, leaving half of it exposed to his admiring gaze. Damian was thankful the woman was wearing a bra, otherwise she'd be seeing more of him than his hip.
“Okay, that sound good. I'll probably be here until noon or so. I'll knock again when I'm done.”
“Perfect. If I don't answer immediately just let yourself in. Harry and Sally will know where to find me,” Connie noted, before she spun and stepped back inside, closing the door behind her.
“Damn,” Damian said, reaching down to settle his package that was beginning to show signs of stirring. “She is so hot!”
On the opposite side of the door, Connie was staring through the peephole at her young friend. She smiled broadly, quite sure she had been able to read his lips.
Beginning with the hedge that separated the Bustle yard from their neighbor's, Damian worked under the blazing sun for about an hour before Mrs. Bustle brought him a sparkling glass of ice water. At her heels, a pair of tail-wagging dogs bounced along with her, their tongues hanging several inches from their jowls.
“Hey, you two,” Damian said excitedly, while dropping on a knee to give each of the dogs a few strokes around their necks. “You two being good?” he asked, his voice taking on an almost comical tone.
The dogs responded with exuberance, barking and jumping up on the boy. “They're always good,” Connie confirmed. “But there are times they drive me crazy. I guess much the way kids do.”
“I guess,” Damian replied. “Thanks for the water,” he said, looking up and extending a hand to take the glasses. As he did, his hand tipped the glass, splashing a liberal amount of the very cold liquid over Connie's t-shirt. “Oh…oh…crap! I'm so sorry,” Damian cried.
Startled, Connie initially reacted with shock, her breath suddenly captured in her chest…but then she began to laugh…and laugh…and laugh. “Wow! That was a surprise,” she wailed, while extending the glass for Damian to secure.
The boy stood, unsure what he might say to make things better. “I…I…”
“Ah, don't worry about it, Damian. It actually feels kinda good,” Connie interjected, while smoothing her hands over her wet torso.
The motion captured the boy's eyes, forcing him to inspect the damage he'd done. Poking through the paper-thin, t-shirt material a pair of large, fully erect nipples stared back at him. His green eyes widened to take in the spectacle, and he had to concentrate to keep his mouth from gaping open. In the short time he'd been working, the woman had obviously removed her bra – for his benefit – who knew, but he was grateful.
It was quite evident the boy was staring at Connie's flawless upturned nipples. “Hm…hm…” she coughed, getting his attention. “Do you see anything you like?” she asked, already seeing the answer by the lump in Damian's cutoffs.
“Oh my…!” Damian began. “Now I've made things worse, haven't I?”
Mrs. Bustle snickered and replied, “What's the sense in having these puppies if they can't be appreciated?” As she talked, she cradled both sides of her C-cupped breasts and pushed them together. “These babies have made me a bundle. I'm glad you like them,” she said, again taking note of the expanding bulge in the young man's pants.
Connie was not the only one very much aware of the rise in Damian's shorts. He had sensed the sudden thickening of his cock and was worried things might break loose. “Well, thanks again for the drink and sorry for the mishap,” he said, handing the glass back to Mrs. Bustle.
“Have you had enough?” she asked coyly. “I could get you something else…anything…” she suggested openly.
“Perhaps at lunchtime I'll take you up on the offer but I better get your yard finished before your husband gets home.”
“Oh…please…he'll be gone all day. Anyway, when you're ready for a snack or some more water…just let me know.”
Damian did his best to get back to work, and after a few minutes of extreme heat and manual labor his penis deflated and he was able to finish the front yard. As he was lifting several bags of branches and debris to the front curb, a UPS van pulled to a stop and an energetic driver jumped from the cab with a small package. He nodded to Damian on his way to the front door.
With half the work done, the amateur gardener moved to the back of the house and started his mower. He made a couple of quick passes around the perimeter of the yard and was about to make a third when he noticed the UPS van was still parked out front. Curious, he thought. I wonder what could be taking him so long.
On the next pass he peered through a large window at the back of the home. It allowed an almost unobstructed view over the kitchen table and down a broad hallway that lead to the front door. What he saw made him stop and stare. “What?” he asked himself, as he covered his eyes to get a better look.
Yes, he had seen correctly. There, just inside the Bustle's front door, the driver was standing with his brown shorts around his ankles. His left hand was on the door's knob to help steady him and his right hand was at the back of Connie's head, guiding her mouth up and down his swollen cock. Damian couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes. It was a broadside view of something he had only imagined doing with the beautiful neighbor.
Connie appeared to be a natural. The full length of the man's cock disappeared with each forward thrust of his hips. His penis was not near as big as Damian's, and certainly more slender, but it still seemed impossible that Connie could swallow the whole thing. In and out the cock pumped, with help from Connie's hands at the driver's hips. She pulled him in and then pushed him back, allowing him to fuck her mouth with ease. From his vantage point, Damian had a difficult time making out facial expressions but could certainly imagine the look of lust on both their faces. He'd seen it before, with both Emily and Maggie, as he'd covered them with cum.
Hypnotized by the scene, Damian almost let go of the throttle, which caused the lawn mower to sputter. It chugged and groaned a few times before it almost died. “Oh, shit!” he cussed, clutching the lever tightly back into his fist – but it was too late – Connie had noticed.
Turning his attention from the now-revving mower back to Connie and the driver, he saw her staring down the hallway directly at him. She was still on her knees but had taken the man's cock out of her mouth. Seemingly unfazed, the woman slipped her right hand up and down the driver's shaft while looking at Damian. She continued the act, jerking the driver while staring at her young friend. Up and down she massaged the cock until a blast of cum hit the side of her face. Turning abruptly, Mrs. Bustle guided the firing penis back into her mouth and rammed her lips to his groin, devouring the entire length.
Damian watched the man's legs buckle. He tried desperately to keep his balance as he shot several more pulses of cum down his partner's throat. Damian himself was feeling weak in the knees. The heat of the sun and the rush of blood to his bloated, throbbing cock was almost making him faint. Yet, he couldn't turn away from the sight before him.
Connie held the man's cock deep in her throat until he had spent his entire load and withdrew his shrinking penis. Bustle expertly cleaned her lips, using her finger to gather the remainder of the semen from her cheek and chin. Satisfied she had gotten it all, she licked her finger invitingly with her eyes turned back to Damian at the back window. Their eyes locked, for only an instant, before Damian was gone and the sound of the mower faded in the boy's hurried retreat.
The balance of the morning was locked in time, as Damian struggled to finish the job. He reflected on what he had witnessed and was surprised that he'd not been called to the backdoor and scolded. Surely Mrs. Bustle was not going to be copacetic with his voyeuristic intrusion, but yet, here it was an hour or two later and he'd not seen her again.
Timidly, the boy approached the steps that led to the backdoor. He knocked softly, almost hoping she'd not answer. His first few taps went unheeded, but a couple more brought Harry and Sally to greet him. Damian knocked a final time with two swift, firm raps, which also went unanswered. Trying the brass knob, the door swung slowly open and the dogs happily welcomed him.
“Mrs. Bustle?” he called. “You home? It's Damian…I'm done with the work for today and wanted to let you know.”
Still there was no answer, so he took several halting steps into the kitchen area. “Mrs. Bustle…it's Damian…”
“Yes, I'm back here…just follow the dogs. Harry…Sally…come here..come on.”
In a flash, both retrievers took off, running to an area that could not be seen from the kitchen. Damian followed them cautiously with his hat in hand and eyes down. What would he say? Could he simply pretend he had seen nothing and carry on as if he were entirely innocent?
If there was any hope of him playing dumb, his illusion was shattered when he rounded a corner and encountered Connie Bustle in a towel and slippers. Her face was unreadable, perhaps mischievous, but not angry. “Did you like what you saw?” she asked.
“Um…what? What do you mean?” the young man asked, hoping he could postpone the chastisement he felt was coming.
“Oh, Damian, don't play with me,” Connie said, while unwrapping a turban-shaped towel from around her head.
The young man didn't think it possible for the Bustle woman to be more attractive, but now, with her hair wet, cheeks flushed, and lips brightly painted – she was striking. The cream-colored towel she had wrapped around her body was held precariously in place by a simple twist of the material. Damian secretly prayed the knot would give way and her suntanned body exposed, but he dared not even look at her at the moment.
“Well?” she uttered, lazily.
Hoping for the best, Damian decided to come clean and laid his soul bare. “I didn't mean to spy…I mean I wasn't spying. I just saw the van and wondered what…and then I saw you…and, well, I just couldn't take my eyes off you. I'm sorry…I really am.”
“But you've not answered my question,” Connie said directly. “Did you like what you saw?”
“It's the first time I've ever seen…you know. It was my first time,” the boy replied.
Connie stepped a bit closer to the somewhat fearful lad. “First time seeing what? Seeing someone getting their cock sucked?” she said, crudely.
“Um…not really,” he confessed. “I've seen some porn before.”
Mrs. Bustle felt she was having to drag the boy along but she was not letting him off the hook easily. “So you like porn?”
Damian looked at his feet and shook his head slightly in the affirmative.
“I guess that shouldn't surprise me. Does your mom know you look at porn?” she asked, taking another slow step toward her prey.
“No! I don't think so. I don't do it a lot,” he lied. “I just sometimes…you know…on my computer I'll look at stuff.”
“Stuff? You said you'd never seen anything…anything like what then, if you don't mean cock-sucking?” As she finished saying the words, her tongue darted out and ran a slow ellipse around her lips.
“Do I have to say?” Damian asked, his face turning a new shade of red.
“Yes, or I guess I could just have your mom discuss it with you. I mean watching a woman through her window is ah…I don't want to say illegal…but naughty is the word I'm looking for.”
“Please don't say anything to my mom. She's acting weird as it is,” he blurted out.
“Okay, then…tell me.”
“Alright…I've never seen a woman take the whole thing,” Damian finally replied haltingly.
“You mean deep-throat. You've never seen a woman take a big cock all the way down her throat?” she purred, her tone softening.
“Yeah,” was all Damian could muster.
“And…” she continued.
“And…what?”
She tilted her head to one side and closed the space between then, bringing her within touching distance. “And…did you like watching me deep-throat that guy?” She gave extra emphasis to the more graphic text.
“I…a…a…I guess…” he stuttered, trying desperately to say what he thought she wanted to hear.
“Well, I can see,” Connie began, while lowering her gaze to the boy's crotch, “it's had quite an affect on you.”
Damian followed her stare, knowing full well what she had meant. His cock was nearly fully erect and trapped within his briefs. The shaft was practically bent in two and was begging for relief; not so much to ejaculate but simply to be straightened out.
“That's quite a problem you've got there,” she suggested. “Did you see the UPS driver shoot his load down my throat?” she asked, breathlessly, just to twist the knife a bit deeper.
Connie continued to stare at the impressive lump in Damian's pants and was quite pleased to see it spasm when she asked about the driver cumming. However, Damian held his tongue and did not reply, at least not vocally.
“Do you think your mom would be upset if she knew you were looking at porn…and your hot neighbor through her window?” Mrs. Bustle continued to talk, grilling the boy, not necessarily wanting an answer. “What am I to do with you? I just can't have every boy on the block coming over to watch me through my windows…now, can I?”
Damian finally found his voice and replied, “No…of course not…and I promise I won't do it again. My mom doesn't need to know, and…”
“You won't do it again?” Connie asked, a disappointed, puzzled look crossing her sweet face.
“No…I promise I won't.”
“But…but what if I want you to,” she whispered, before reaching between them to grasp his aching member.
Damian suddenly had trouble breathing, his heart bounced into his throat and his head swooned.
“You must be so uncomfortable, Dear Boy. Would it help if I…if I ah…” As Mrs. Bustle spoke she brought her other hand to bear on Damian's constrained package and sighed, “My goodness, Damian, I had no idea. There's a lot of you packed in there. Let me just…” She pulled and twisted, pushed and pulled until the boy's cock was finally angled down to his left, across his lower abdomen and upper thigh, and finally out the bottom of his shorts. The plum-sized head was the shade of rich velvet and the shaft was ivory in comparison. The grossly distended organ appeared to pulse a muted Morse code invitation to the wanton, near-naked woman, saying ‘come and get me’.
“Mrs. Bustle!” Damian grunted in protest. “You probably…”
“I should probably what?” she asked, her voice now husky with lust. “This?” she teased.
Dropping to her knees, Connie gripped the portion of the boy's shaft that was visible. She squeezed it firmly, causing the purple head to swell ridiculously. “My…that looks like a challenge.” Not expecting a reply, Connie hungrily began lapping at the bulbous head. She licked and nibbled the sensitive tissue, using her hand to force even more blood to the inflated glans. “I wonder…I wonder…” she mused, quietly speaking to herself.
“Wonder what?” Damian asked, his knees weak from the tongue lashing he had received.
“This…” Connie said, abruptly. In seconds she had the young man's shorts and briefs around his ankles, freeing his throbbing cock. It was angry and hard as nails; the veins thick and painted blue just below the skin's surface. Caught off guard, Damian gasp as the woman took his swollen head into her mouth. She worked her tongue over the surface, paying special attention to the tight band of skin just under the tip. Damian moaned his appreciation and shifted his weight to give her a better angle, and then as quickly as she had started – she stopped. A disappointed sigh escaped the boy's lips, which Connie picked up on immediately.
“Don't worry – I'm not done,” she whispered. Taking a step back, Mrs. Bustle yanked at the knot between her breasts and let the towel fall to the floor. She watch her victim's eyes and enjoyed the lustful grin that crossed his face.
Damian had seen her in the skimpiest of bikinis, but to see her completely naked was a real treat. He'd jacked off to such women between the covers of the swankiest men's magazines, but to see a woman, up close, so perfect formed, was staggering. Her breasts were the mirror image of one another, wholly perfect in every way. The nipples were scooped upward, as if they were marionettes being played by an expert puppet-master. They were pink, the color of sea coral, and the skin around them; brilliantly white like Jamaican sand. The contrast of her breasts, nipples and well-placed tan made her appear painted rather than real.
“I see you approve,” she growled, her voice deep and her eyes watching his bobbing cock. “Let me suck that beast.” Moving to the king-sized bed that took up most of the room, Connie laid on her back with her eyes to the ceiling and head hanging over the edge. She motioned for Damian to join her at the side of the bed, so that standing, his cock was aimed exactly at her lovely mouth. She reached out and cupped his balls, rubbing and examining them like a pair of expensive Faberge Eggs. Satisfied they were full, she worked the shaft with her fists until pre-cum dripped from his crown.
Connie was pleased her ministrations had yielded such a plentiful bounty, and she proceeded to grease his mast with vigor. “Come on, Damian, Give me that big, fucking cock. Push that monster down my throat.”
Damian was instantly taken aback by the gorgeous woman's request. Surely it wasn't possible for anyone to swallow such a big cock. I might kill her, he thought.
The boy's hesitation did nothing but irritate Connie and she growled at him to follow her orders, “Now!” she insisted.
Damian did what he was told – bent his knees slightly and angled his swaying pole at her wide open mouth. With her head hanging down, as it was, his cock had a straight shot over her tongue and into her waiting throat. Mrs. Bustle groped for the root of his enormous prick, and with her hands ringing the base, she slowly, every so slowly, coaxed the monster on its way. More than once she had to push him away to keep from choking, but she was persistent and got a good eight inches down before she had to call it quits.
“If it weren't so big around…I could do it,” she sputtered, exasperated.
Trying again, she reached for Damian's ass to help force his cock further into her throat. The action almost brought the young man to orgasm but he fought back the urge and held off. This time, she managed another inch, but was still shy of swallowing the whole damn thing.
***
A short distance down the block, Mrs. Sizemore stood overlooking her kitchen table and the nice lunch she had prepared for Damian and herself. “Where is that boy?” she asked herself, somewhat disappointed he had decided not to join her. I wonder if he's run into trouble…or another another bee?
The frightening thought sent her out the door in search of her son. Her short yellow skirt flapped against her upper thighs as she jogged anxiously looking for Damian. She remembered he was planning on Pearl's home or possibly Connie's. Perplexed where he might be, Steph decided to try the Bustle's place first.
It was obvious Damian had been at work, as their front yard was well groomed and a few bags of grass were stashed at the curb. Stephanie tilted her head to listen for the droning sound of their mower but was disappointed to hear nothing but a pair of birds cackling in a nearby tree. Undeterred, she loped to the back of the Bustle home. Again, she found the grass mowed and the bushes trimmed to perfection. “He does good work,” she said, proudly.
Doing exactly what Damian had done only a short time before, his mother tapped lightly on the backdoor. It swung in slightly, as she did, and Mrs. Sizemore stuck her head inside. She called quietly, “Connie…Connie…have you seen Damian?”
The question brought two playful dogs to the door but not Connie. “I wonder…” she whispered, moving beyond the door to the kitchen. It was there that she caught the first hint of people in the home. Well, somebody's here.
Stephanie took a second to slip off her shoes before she ventured further into the home. Tiptoeing, a foot at a time, she made her way down a hallway that she knew led to Connie's bedroom. She stopped short when she heard Connie utter a command, 'Push that monster down my throat.'
It suddenly became blatantly clear what her friend was up to…but with whom? A wave of curiosity swept over the Sizemore woman, forcing her to creep closer and closer. At the room's entrance she stopped and listened. 'Now', she heard Connie order.
She's a bossy bitch, that's for sure, Steph thought. Who's cock is she sucking today?
Compelled by a need to know, Damian's mom inched to the door-frame and peeked around. The middle-aged mother was not prepared for the scene that reached out and shook her. There they were – one of her best friends and Damian, her son. He was feeding his thick cock down Connie's throat, but not without her inducing him. Steph's first reaction was to charge into the room and rip her son away from the slut, but then…moisture suddenly flooded her vagina, locking her legs in place. Try as she might to move – she was frozen: her legs stiff, breathing sporadic, and her pussy lips thickening.
Fully captivated by Connie's cock-sucking talent, Stephanie watched in awe. Each stroke of her son's cock bringing her closer to her own orgasm. Compelled to satisfy her own lascivious needs, Damian's mother hiked her skirt to her hips and began stroking her pussy. She pulled her panties to one side and slipped a pair of well-manicured fingers into her cunt. She ground her clit with the heel of her palm and flicked her fingers back and forth over her inner g-spot.
“It's so fricking huge,” she mouthed, unable to keep from commenting to herself. “Take it, Connie…take it.”
Adding a third…and then a fourth finger, Stephanie was about to climax when she spotted a slender vase filled with a handful of flowers on a narrow, hallway table. Humming passionately, she pulled the flowers from the vase and tossed them on the table. Then, as if she'd done it a hundred times, she licked the base, where it was somewhat round and bulbous, wetting and preparing it.
Stephanie, you are fucking insane, she thought, as she replaced her fingers with the vessel. It took her several thrusts, in and out, before she was able to insert the better portion of it. It was hard and unyielding, but deliciously smooth and cold against her hot tunnel.
Only a few feet away she knew Damian was approaching his own climax. Gagging sounds filled the air, pushing Steph that much closer to her own release. Tiptoeing back to door-jam, the boy's mother snooped again to fill her carnal craving.
“Slut,” she whispered, ever so quietly, not sure if she meant herself or Connie.
Inside the bedroom, Connie was working the boy's cock in and out of her wide-stretch mouth, still unable to take the whole thing. Yet, it didn't seem to matter to Damian, who was holding her breasts and pinching her nipples while she held his hips to better facilitate the face-fucking she was getting.
“Mrs. Bustle,” Damian moaned. “I'm gonna cum…I'm cumming!”
The sound of her son screaming for release was all Stephanie needed to push her over the edge – or at least partially – the vase was doing its job, as well. Slipping the glassed structure as far as she could up her cunt, Stephanie convulsed again and again with spasms of pleasure shaking her to the core. Cum leaked down her legs, translucent, white and creamy – but she wasn't done – there was one more on the brink and she knew what would get her there.
Turning her attention back to the king-sized bed, Mrs. Sizemore was pleased to see she hadn't missed the culmination of Connie's work. Damian's inflated cock was still halfway down Bustle's throat when his head rocked back and his balls began pumping cum. The first eruption burst directly down Connie's esophagus, not allowing her to taste his nectar, but nearly cutting off her airway and suffocating her.
Whether it was for self preservation or the shameless desire of a woman out of control, Connie pulled the climaxing cock from her throat and took the next shot directly into her mouth. She swallowed the frothy load happily, while waiting for the next. Not wanting to disappoint, Damian shot another, heavier salvo, at her mouth, but missed and coated her chin, neck and sternum with a sticky mess.
Yes, that's what I need! Stephanie thought. Clutching the vase she worked it with renewed fervor in and out of her pussy, giving her the orgasm she so desperately needed. Again, she jerked uncontrollably, as her entire being was racked with waves of intense gratification.
“Yeah, yeah…Damian. That's what I need. Stuff that horse cock of yours in my pussy. Finish that load in my cunt. Come on…give it to me. Let me feel you split me in two while you're still hard,” Connie cried.
What? Had Steph heard correctly? She must have, because Connie had flipped over, spun around, and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed, giving Damian an easy target. Her pussy was dripping and ready for him, as another of Damian's lofting eruptions covered her abdomen.
“Fuck me, Damian. Give me that beast,” Bustle commanded.
The notion that Connie was about to fuck her son, right there, in front of her, was more than Stephanie could take. Nearly forgetting where she was, Mrs. Sizemore pulled the vase from her snatch and quickly bolted into the room. Cum was plastered down both of her legs and the front of her skirt was matted with a thick layer of her own excitement…but it didn't stop her.
Reaching the foot of the bed, before her son and Connie knew she was there, Steph shouted, “Nobody's fucking my son before I do!”
,