"Stories 18+" Stacey's Mom C2

Stories 18+ Stacey's Mom C2
“Cause, he’s your husband, and I’m just a kid.”

“Well,” she laughed softly as she let her eyes drop to his bulging crotch, “you aren’t much of a kid any more. And, besides,” she continued, closing the space between them with a half-step and raising her hands to cradle his face in her palms, “I love you, Jeremy Bolds, and I would never, never, never do anything that would hurt you.”

“Car…” the boy gasped, choking on her name, overcome by her sweetness and the fact that her bikini top was dangling uselessly from her arms and her gorgeous, bare breasts were almost grazing his chest.

“You trust me, don’t you?” she whispered, holding his face in her hands and looking deeply into his blinking, astonished eyes.

“Yes, yes, oh God, yes.”

“Then tell me the truth,” she insisted, tightening her grip for effect.

“I do, I do,” he blurted, shutting his eyes in shame.

“Do what?” she prodded.

“Jack off. I watch you and jack off.” 

“Is that what you were doing just now? In your bathroom with the water running?”


“Did you finish?”

“No, you called me; I didn’t have time.”

“Does my body excite you, Jeremy?” she asked pointedly while letting her top slip off her arms. Her breasts, nude, beautifully sculpted globes, pointed their puckered, ruby nipples at his chest.

She took a small step closer; their toes were nearly touching.

“Oh, God, yes,” he moaned almost painfully. 

“Are you still excited, Jeremy?” It was a husky whisper and her eyes lit with unconcealed desire as she spoke the words. The answer, of course, was blatantly pointing at her just a scant few inches from her nearly bare crotch.

“Carmen! Don’t, please,” he gasped with a shriek. “My dad’s going to kill us both.”

“You trust me, remember? He’s in Sacramento and this is just between you and me.”

“Carmen?” he wailed in disbelief, unable to respond.

“You are still hard, aren’t you, Jere?” Her eyebrows lifted expectantly as she spoke, and she thrust her hips toward him till her nearly naked mons just barely brushed the cloth covered tip of his erection.

“Oh God,” the boy gurgled.

“Is your penis erect for me, Jere?” she whispered, rubbing herself against him sensuously.

“No, no,” he protested weakly.

“No?” She smiled with amusement. Her hand drifted from his chin, her fingertips tracing lines of tingling fire down his chest toward his belly. “I don’t think I believe you, Jere.”

“Ohhhhh,” he gurgled in ineffectual denial.

“I think your cock is hard as a rock, honey.” And, with that, her hand found him, and her fingers brazenly fondled him through the thin fabric of his trunks. She watched his face as emotions danced across his features like images projected onto a screen. His shoulders sagged, his mouth dropped open in a gape of astonishment, and his eyes bulged as he blinked and gulped.

“See, I was right, baby,” she cooed happily. Her fingers encircled him, squeezing, measuring, and then began a slow, rhythmic movement. 

The boy gurgled, his words of protest dying in his throat in a tangle of discordant vowels and consonants. His arms dangled by his sides; his hands flapped uselessly. His eyes, drawn to the searing sensation of her touch, stared as the image of her tiny fingers stroking the bulge in his trunks burned into his brain. His prick was rigid as a piece of rolled steel, and he could feel the hot thrush of embarrassed desire spreading from his loins up his trunk to his face.

“Do you like my breasts,” she purred while moving her hand expertly on his prick. Her bare breasts swayed enticingly with the movement of her hand, and her darkened, congested nipples, described little arcs in the thin space between their bodies.

His eyes flitted to her breasts, then to her face, his eyelids fluttering as she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast. He felt the firm texture of her bosom under his fingertips and the dense, rubbery tissue of her nipple pressing against his palm and urgency of his excitement made him dizzy.

“Rub them, Jere,” she said, guiding him past his innocence. “My nipples are so sensitive.” She squeezed his prick with her fingers to encourage him.

The boy complied, rolling her nipple like an oversized raisin between thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes and tilted her head as though overcome by rapture, and then she whispered, “Do both of them like that. Use both hands.”

Jeremy complied and was shocked at the intensity of her response. Little guttural grunting sounds came from her throat, and her body began to undulate with a rhythm that matched the silent cadence of his massage. He tugged her nipples, stretching her flesh, and she arched her back offering herself to his fingers.

“Hmmmm,” she hissed as he tugged her nipples, elongating her pulsating, exquisitely sensitive flesh like pulled taffy, “you do that good,” and to prove her approval, she stroked him faster.

“Do you like having your cock rubbed, baby?” 

“Oh, God, yes.”

“Do my fingers feel good?”

“Oh, Carmen.”

“They called me the ‘Beat-off Queen’ in high school, baby; do you know why?”

It was a whispered confidence, uttered as her hand snaked up the loose leg of his trunks to fondle him through the mesh lining.


“Cause, I could jack the boys off better than any of the other girls. All the boys tried to get me to go out with them cause I knew how to make them feel good.”

“Carmen!” he gasped as the heat of her palm scorched him through the netting.

“I think you want me to make you feel good, don’t you?” she teased, sliding her hand up his length to cover the swollen head of his prick.

“Oh, Carmen,” he gushed as the air rushed from his lungs.

“Do you want your step-mother to make your cock feel good, Jere?” 

Step-mother, oh, God, he winced, but the very illicitness the term suggested honed his passion like a razor on a strop. “Oh, yes,” the boy yelped. The reply came bubbling up from his subconscious so quickly that he didn’t realize he had spoken until she released him and withdrew her hand from his trunks.

“Okay, then,” she panted excitedly. “Take off your suit.”

“Carmen?” he blinked uncertainly. His fingers fumbled with the drawstring to loosen the knot.

“Let me help you,” she said eagerly, and, dropping to one knee, she began tugging his suit down.

The trunks grudgingly yielded their grip on the boy’s damp skin. She struggled, working them down little by little, slowly exposing the boy’s stark white belly and then the surprisingly sparse dusting of pubic hair just above his penis. The waistband snagged his prick, bending it down. She tugged hungrily, and the trunks slipped down his thighs, revealing his thick, richly-veined shaft. The length of him surprised and thrilled her, and she impatiently snatched the trunks to his ankles to expose him entirely. His prick sprang up when the waistband slipped past, and, as she leaned toward him to push his trunks to the ground, his dick brushed her cheek. She caught him with her hand and pressed him to her face for a moment, and then turned and pressed her lips against him to savor the sensation of his virgin prick-flesh on her eager lips. She could feel his pulse, the trip-hammer beat of his heart, on her lips, and, welling up from the fiery pit of her passion, an almost unbearable urge to take him in her mouth and suck him to completion then and there. She mastered that urge because she had other ideas.

She struggled to her feet and faced him. Inches separated them. Her face glowed, lit from within by frustrated passion. A smeared droplet of precum stained her cheek. She was breathing with short, quick gulps, and her breasts, reddened by the boy’s eager massage, heaved. She grasped his hands in hers and placed them on her hips.

“Take my thong off,” she instructed the awestruck boy.

Obediently, he knelt, oblivious to the sharp aggregate punishing his knees. He barely pulled the string and her thong fell away, exposing her beauty and the neatly trimmed, luxuriant thicket of hair at her crotch.

“Stay there,” she told him when he started to rise, and, restraining him by putting her hands on his shoulders, she spread her legs.

“Have you ever seen a woman’s pussy, Jeremy?” she asked gently.

He shook his head in partially untruthful denial, because he had seen plenty in magazines and in Bruiser’s X-rated videos, but, of course, never one in the flesh.

“Look at my pussy, Jeremy. Do you like it?”

“Oh God, yes. You’re beautiful,” he whispered in heartfelt adoration. He stared at her, lips full, thick, slightly separated, revealing glimpses of bright pink flesh behind her fleshy folds.

“Do you know how to tell if a woman is excited and ready to fuck, Jeremy?”

The boy shivered in his ignorance and rocked back and forth on his knees.

“Her pussy gets real wet and slippery, and she swells up inside.”

The boy’s eyes were riveted to her slit hoping to catch a glimpse of the phenomenon she had described.

“Playing with your cock made my pussy sooooo wet.”

The boy rocked closer trying to confirm her report.

“You can’t see it, you sweetheart, you can only feel it. Touch my pussy. Put your fingers inside and feel me. I want you to see how wet I am for you.”

He lifted his hand, stroking her inner thigh along the way, and his fingertips tentatively brushed her lips. She sighed and opened her legs for him. She shut her eyes and felt his inquisitive, inexperienced fingers sliding along her slit seeking an entrance.

“Yessss,” she gasped, when his fingers managed to separate her lips and slipped inside. “Feel the wet, baby,” she purred as his fingers slithered along the length of her slit. 

The boy groped her, and his untutored fumbling was the spark that ignited the raging conflagration of her lust.

“Here, let me show you,” she puffed, when her vaginal opening proved too elusive for him to find.

Her hand covered his between her legs, and her fingers guided him through the veil of her slippery lips to her opening. With his fingers poised to enter her, she hesitated at the brink of the precipice, leaning out with the wind in her face like Kate Winslet on the bow of the Titanic, savoring the anticipation, but almost instantly her patience yielded to passion, and she thrust his finger deep into her pussy.

He gasped in bewildered astonishment as his finger slid easily into her depths, and he felt the tight grip of her slippery flesh engulf him. She pushed him out and tugged him back, instructing him in the motions that pleasured her, and, gradually, she turned him loose to stroke her on his own.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” she burbled eagerly as the boy’s fingers sawed in and out of her throbbing vagina. The hot cauldron in her belly boiled and brewed an endless flood of lanolin oil that drenched her pussy, and she knew she was wet, wetter than she had ever been. She overflowed and her slippery effluent dripped from her lips, matting her pussy hair and coating the soft skin of her thighs.

“Oh, God, oh, God, you’re finger-fucking me so good, baby,” she murmured allowing herself another moment of selfish indulgence to enjoy the sensations of the boy’s fingers probing her body.

Then, she gently extracted his finger and pulled him to his feet. Before he could protest, she pushed him toward the chaise and told him to lie on his back. He obeyed, lying down with his hands clutching the sides of the chaise and his cock flopped on his belly. She stood beside the chaise and let his lust-crazed eyes explore her nudity, while she squirted oil into her cupped hand. She dropped to her knees and raised his prick. She drizzled the warmed oil onto the boy’s cock, watching it run from the head down the shaft, leaving glistening trails of lubricant weaving among the bulging veins. Her oily palm caressed his shaft, then her fingers coiled around him and greased him. She palmed his glans and teased his cum hole with a fingertip. He moaned and lifted his hips, thrusting his cock toward the enticement of her oily caresses, and, while his hips hovered above the chaise, she slipped her hand between his legs to oil his balls. She stroked lower and found the crease between his ass cheeks. She wormed her slippery finger into the crevice. The boy groaned and questioned her with a look of dismay when she pushed her finger into the tight ring of his anus. He jerked his hips to evade the penetrating finger and resisted her by clenching his butt cheeks tightly together. She stroked his cock, jacking him off with her circling fingers slipping lightly up and down the well-oiled shaft, and he relaxed some. She leaned toward his prick and licked the tip, and heard the boy’s gasp of delight as her finger slid deeply into his rectum. She fingerfucked his asshole while licking his cock and jacking him off until his squirmy moans signaled it was time for her to stop.

She stood, and, kneeling on the chaise beside him, straddled the boy. She settled on him, wiggling her hips till her pussy caught his rigid dick and pressed it between their bodies. She leaned forward, putting her hands on his shoulders, letting her breasts dangle in front of his face.

“Play with my breasts,” she cooed, lifting her hips some and slipping her hand between their bodies to grasp his prick.

He reached for her, hands closing on her swaying globes, as she guided the head of his prick into her wet slit. She rubbed herself with his prick, stroking her swollen clit with the exquisite softness of his glans and thrilled to the little spurts of precum her caresses produced.

“Suck them,” she said with a note of pleading in her voice. Her hand twitched frantically, strumming the taut stalk of her clit with his cock.

The boy complied, sucking her nipples into the hot cavern of his mouth, nursing her breasts like a hungry child, and she could feel the walls of her vagina contracting with each suck. He suckled and grunted, but, just as she lifted herself to position his prick to enter her, he stopped.

“Oh, Carmen?” he gulped, and she detected a wistfulness in his voice.

“Yes, baby?” she responded, pausing; his cock was poised at her opening.

“Carmen, I, ah, ah,” he stammered, blushing.

Fear, she surmised, and her heart melted with compassion for his innocence. “Don’t be afraid, Jere, I’ll show you,” she whispered reassuringly with all the love any mother could feel.

“It’s not that,” he protested, and it seemed as though the beat of his pulse in his prick quickened.

“What is it, then, baby?” Her hand held him as she settled onto his prick, letting the head slip between her fleshy pussy lips.

“Can I put it between your cheeks? Just for a minute. Just to see what it feels like.”

The boy had either summoned extraordinary courage or been overcome by uncontrollable desire to utter such an outrageous request, but the thought of cheeks, her cheeks, clenching his cock had consumed his every waking thought for months and he couldn’t resist that compulsion. It had begun in the spring on a day he should have been in school. Instead, he had played hookey and was lying on his bed in his boxers reading Hustler magazines when he heard her come home. He had hidden beside his bed while she walked to her bedroom at the end of the hallway they shared, and then he heard running water filling the tub in her bath. He lay in the crevice between his bed and the wall for the longest, giving her time to bathe, and, when he thought the coast was clear, he crept out and snuck down the hall toward her room. Her door was ajar and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising in anticipation at the prospect of catching a glimpse of her in her underwear or maybe naked. He had gotten lucky once or twice in the past, getting to see her naked, but it had scared him shitless to do it. This time, the door was cracked open and loomed at the end of the hall like the opening to a giant womb, and he approached on tiptoe, irresistibly drawn, with his heart in his throat. At first, because the room was dark, he didn’t see her and thought she was still in the bathroom, but when his eyes adjusted, he gasped and nearly fell against the door. Her image was reflected toward him by mirrors on the ceiling and the wall. His gorgeous step-mother was lying naked on the king-sized bed with her legs spread wide open. Her eyes were closed, and her pink tongue was running restlessly over her lips. She was twisting a nipple with one hand. Her pussy hair was wet and matted, her lips puffy, swollen looking, pouting and open, revealing a slash of wet crimson. Dim light glinted off her moist inner thighs. He groaned and thrust his hand into his underpants, and locked his fingers onto his prick. He began to jack off, staring at her gaping pussy, until he noticed the movement of her hand reaching for something. Her hand came into view holding a large, life-like rubber cock above her face. He stopped breathing for a minute and slumped against the door jam in a state of near collapse, when she took the dildo into her mouth and down her throat. Then, while he frantically stroked his meat, she put the head of that cock between her asscheeks and squirmed it around till the head was pressing against her asshole. His eyes were popping out of his head; he couldn’t think or breathe. All he could do was jack off and watch her slowly push that enormous, fat prick up her ass. As soon as she had shoved it all the way in, so that there was barely enough left outside her butthole to hold on to, she pulled it all the way out and then shoved it back. He could hear her gasping and moaning like it was the most wonderful thing she had ever done, and it amazed him to see that, when she pulled the thing out, her asshole stayed open, a huge hole like a gaping mouth with no lips. He jacked off faster, feeling the cum building up in his dick, and she speeded up too matching him stroke for stroke. Her hand was a blur, sliding that fat cock in and out of her ass almost faster than his eyes could follow, and she started huffing and puffing, like the little engine that could, with quick little gasps. She slipped a hand down her belly and onto her pussy. Her fingers spread her lips and held them open while she rubbed her clit. He was there, his climax hanging by a thread, the familiar tingling rush electrifying his kneecaps, when he heard her loudly chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck my ass, oh, God, yes, fuck my ass deep.” With that, his cum burst from the end of his prick in a flood. Streams of thick, white cum shot across the carpet and spattered the bedroom door he was crouching behind. His hand jerked faster and his dick became a cum fountain, squirting his juice like he never imagined possible, and distantly, through the haze of his orgasm, he heard her groan, “Oh, God, I’m cumming.” He stuffed his cock into his shorts and slunk down the hall to his room, too frightened of discovery to clean up the mess he had made. That night, at supper, he nearly had a heart attack when she turned to his dad and said, “Honey, there are some stains on the carpet outside our bedroom. I don’t know how they got there, but I think we better call somebody to come up and shampoo the carpet.” She had looked at him kinda funny at the time with just the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, but if she suspected anything, she never let on. As for Jere, he carried those images like a stain on his brain and whenever he got an erection, there was nothing he could do to keep his mind from returning to that afternoon when he watched his step-mom fuck herself in the ass with that big rubber cock.

“Oh, Jere,” she gulped, and he felt a shiver of excitement shake her breasts. Her hand was positioning him as she spoke. “You want to put your prick between my ass cheeks?”

“Carmen,” he nodded, feeling his prick already nuzzling into the deep cleavage of his step-mother’s ass, guided unerringly by her eager, but steady, hand.  (next Chap 3)
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