Taking Advantage of an Inebriated Mom

Taking Advantage of an Inebriated Mom

My friend Victor had come to me earlier that morning before class with news about yet another neighborhood party his m0ther was throwing at his home tonight. It was more than an invitation but rather a plea to come as we would serve as the buffer from his charismatic mother. On such short notice, only I and another mutual friend, Herman could make it. Luckily so as it meant even more food for us at the party.

At the sound of the final bell, we bailed from our high school, and headed to Victor's in order to help prep for the party. Victor tried to sneak us in the back door of his home by the kitchen as an attempt to hide us from his mother, Mrs. Clark. However, she was already there, arms deep in baking dough and chianti, sipping the red wine in order to calm herself as she cooked for dozens. We offered to help, but as the hostess of the party, Mrs. Clark refused our aid, but not before tasking her own son with some chores while berating him about his grades at school. After we had retreated to his room, Victor, as usual, vented with some snide comments about how his unabashed mother would humiliate him to which we reciprocated with a few measly milf jokes, which only seemed to further irritate him.

We never really understood his resentment toward his mom as she was a favorite amongst his friends. You'd find Mrs. Clark absolutely stunning upon first glance. She had aged well, still holding onto a premiere figure from all those morning jogs around the suburban neighborhood. Her hair was a curly dark brown that she'd only straighten for special occasions. Her skin was a glowing light olive color with a few well-placed birth marks sc.attered about. Despite being 48, her face didn't look a day older than 35 when she grinned, with dimples framing deep pink lips and an absolutely radiant white smile. Her brown eyes were always warm and inviting, magnified through her large-framed prescription glasses that made her look like a pretty librarian.

However, despite her undeniable physical attractiveness, you'd quickly be diverted by Mrs. Clark's strong maternal instincts. With her bubbly personality, she was perhaps an embarrassingly energetic type of mom towards Victor, and she smothered him every chance she could as a single parent. When friends would come over, we would be presented with nothing but wholesome home-cooked meals and lectures on the importance of high school studying and schoolwork. Mrs. Clark was almost like a surrogate mother to us all while we were in her presence, more responsible and interested in our daily lives than our own real parents.

This is perhaps what embarrassed Victor the most. What we viewed as a loving, committed and even fun mom, he probably viewed as an overbearing incessant mother. Among all of her virtues, however, this was probably as close to a vice as it could get for Mrs. Clark: she absolutely reveled in her role as storybook mother, beloved neighbor and inviting hostess so much that she would invite both Victor's friends as well as the entire neighborhood to frequent parties at their home. These frequent events were typically simple informal gatherings where she could play homemaker, socialite and amateur caterer with some new Martha Stewart recipe while embarrassing her son with his baby pictures and ch!ldhood stories. All of us younger guys would eagerly stop by to mooch off the free food, steal some booze from the adults and hang out with Victor as he retreated to his bedroom, away from all of the embarrassment.

The latest party was no different as Victor had hastily grabbed both myself and Herman from the soda and snack table, dragging us back to his room, away from the adults who were simply lounging in the living room and patio where they enjoyed both gossip and politics. The night was still young, and Victor already had that red scowl on his face. He seemed extra prepared for this evening, already having a stash of tequila and wine from the party sitting on his computer desk in his room. Victor must have been overly irritated this night, undoubtedly from some embarrassing story his mother told the neighbors. He pounded away shot after shot of tequila while chasing it with wine. It wasn't long until he was passed out on the bed, leaving both me and Herman alone to entertain ourselves with nothing but the remaining alcohol and computer video games.

I don't know if it was the alcohol or the adrenaline from gaming, but we hadn't even realized the hours that had flown by. The tipsy laughter and slurred voices that echoed from party downstairs had slowly faded into a dead silence. Victor was still completely u*********s on his bed, half of his body slumped over the edge of the mattress. Herman, having recognized the time, called it a night and quickly bolted in order to avoid reprimand from his own parents with barely so much of a goodbye.

After hitting the tequila and wine pretty hard myself, I decided to call it a night as well, but not before having to unload all of the alcohol from a full bladder. Walking down the hall to the bathroom had become quite the undertaking as I navigated a straight path with an inebriated shuffle and spinning vision. I somehow managed to make it to the toilet, having to brace myself on the towel rack in order to just prop myself upright while I used it. Walking back down the hall proved no easier as I once again had to use the wall as a crutch while inching forward.

In my liquor-induced clumsiness, I had accidentally leaned too far into the wall, my forearm slipping and pushing through the door of the last bedroom down the hall. Unable to brace myself through the swinging door, I hit the hardwood floor with both my hands and knees in one large thud. The sudden illumination from the room's lighting and the shear racket I was making as I barged in had me alarmed as I stumbled halfway into the doorway of the bedroom. My eyes frantically jetted through the slightly opened door, hoping that it was unoccupied. Looking across the room at the large floor-to-ceiling mirrors that covered the closet doors, I saw a reflection of Mrs. Clark lying on her bed. Despite both of her bedside lamps still being on, she fortunately remained asléep on her bed. I tried to quietly compose myself once again by crawling backwards on all fours from the room only to look up at the mirror's reflection with a startling fixation.

I could see Mrs. Clark's nipple.

It wasn't that explicit of a scene, but you can imagine how it would throw off the concentation of a drûnken teenage boy. Mrs. Clark was simply laying on her side, facing away from the door but toward the mirror. Her right arm was neatly tucked under the pillow, her legs held together with knees curled up toward her stomach. She was still wearing her glasses and white summer party dress to bed, which had slid and adjusted at some point in her slumber where her right breast was exposed ever so slightly to reveal her large brown aureola. The realization that I was peeping rushed to me, and I staggered to slide back behind the slightly open door. However, I found my left eye shifting toward the door's opening once again for another view.

My heart pounded as I studied the slèeping woman before me even more intently, both interested in her brief nudity and nervous from her potential awakening. From the reflection, I made out more details such as the multiple red wine stains on her white dress and the half empty bottle of scotch with matching glass still on her dresser. Coupled with the fact that she slept through my noisy foray into her room, it was quite evident: Mrs. Clark was piss-drûnk too.

I slid my face further into the doorway until I was no longer staring at a reflection, but rather at the slèeping woman's back. I absolutely loved her form as she laid there. Her toned shoulders displayed her light tan complexion from behind the thin straps of her dress. From there, her body tapered down to a petite waist only to bulge again at the hips and buttocks with wavering curves along her firm thighs and and calves. Her ankles were pinned together with the soles of her feet still bearing the grass and earth stains from walking barefoot on the lawn and patio during the party.

"Marvelous." All I could say to myself as I spied on the slèeping milf.

The alcohol was still racing through my system and lowering my inhibitions, but at some point I realized that I had had enough peeping. I was still on my hands and knees in the doorway when I tried to quietly crawl backwards into the hallway. With the aid of the doorknob, I tried to help myself to my feet. However, my altered coordination failed again as I stumbled once more, this time flinging Mrs. Clark's bedroom door swiftly into the wall, leaving it fully ajar. The impact from the doorknob striking the wall shook the lampshades next to her bed while sending her glass of scotch plummeting to the floor. The sharp sound of glass shattering resonated within the bedroom and out through the hall as I stood there exposed in the open doorway.

I remained there frozen as Mrs. Clark exhibited the first few signs of awakening. Her toes curled and her left leg slid along her right. She emitted a slight groan as if irritated by the commotion. Finally, she turned her body around on the bed toward me. With her entire front facing me, there was another long pause of silence. My eyes drifted to her face, only to realize that her eyes behind those thick glasses were still closed. I stayed frozen there for a few more moments to confirm that she was indeed still sound aslèep. After laughing to myself for dodging a huge bullet, I then began to wonder as to just how wasted Mrs. Clark was.

Yet, by turning over on the bed to lie on her left side, her dress had shifted even moreso until her right breast had completely freed itself from the cup of her dress. I needed no mirror this time as her incredibly large and round bosom dangled before me. Emboldened by the knowledge of Mrs. Clark's deep slèep, I found myself moving in closer toward the edge of her mattress. I made my way toward the bed in a slow and awkward waddle, attempting to manage the effects of the alcohol as well as the budding erection in my pants. As I reached her, I took another moment to confirm that she was indeed dormant.

Leaning over, I ran my left hand along the underside of her naked breast, cupping it firmly while feeling the weight of it in my palm. I had never touched a woman before, and I was simply amazed at the size and form of Mrs. Clark's large, busty chest compared to those from the young female classmates of mine. After a few more caresses, I ran my hand until the pads of my fingers rubbed against the center of her breast. It drove me wild to push against the erect nipple of her tit, but Mrs. Clark had begun to squirm and groan before me. Fearful that I had finally gone too far I attempted to back away from the slèeping woman. But before I could, her left eye twitched before slipping open, and her right hand reached out, grabbing me by the shirt.

"I'm in deep shit! She got me!" I told myself in my head.

My mind quickly began to race, thinking of any and every excuse for my actions that I could muster as Mrs. Barnes f0rcibly pulled me within a foot of the bed. I was so nervous that I hadn't even realized that my hand was still cupped around her breast as she tugged me closer toward her. However, as I looked to her face in order to confront her, I was confused as her one open eye stared idly into nothing. That familiar drûnk glaze in her eye became apparent, neither awake nor aslèep, as her movements functioned purely on involuntary impulses while under the influence of red wine and liquor.

I had tried to scurry away from her hold, but her hands continued to move downward until they were toying with my waist. It wasn't long until her fingers had reached the bulge in my pants as I stood there conflicted as to whether I should remain or flee. Mrs. Clark's liquor-possessed hands answered that for me as she had begun to wrestle my pants and underwear downward, flinging my erection outward like a spring-loaded trap. Like a blind uncoordinated woman, her drûnk hands moved erratically along the length of my shaft, sometimes grasping into nothing but air before finding my rod again for a deep tug.

My bl00d began to rush, both from anxiety and stimulation. I had never been with a girl let alone a woman before, and the sensation of a stranger's hand on my privates created new pleasures that I could never replicate while masturbating. However, that stranger just so happened to be my best friend's mother. Despite being partially u*********s, Mrs. Clark's hand found a rhythm on my cock as her soft palm stroked from base to the very tip, her wrist rotating in the process for full coverage around the girth of me. I trembled from my first handjob, allowing my pants and underwear to completely fall to the floor in order to give the plastered woman before me full access to my crotch.

Mrs. Clark's eyes were semi-open, her pupils rolled into the back of eyelids so that you could only see the glazed whites of her eyes from behind her thick glasses. Her lower lip had descended as she partially drooled on her pillow. Even in this sloppy state, she still looked gorgeous. I decided to up the ante.

With my pulsing cock still firmly in the grasp of her stroking hand, I shuffled closer toward the bed as far as I could. When my knees and thighs hit the sheets, I leaned in over the bed, inching the very tip of my cock as close to her face as I could. Still a mere inch or two away from her mouth, I leaned in further and ran my right hand delicately down the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her soft brown curls. With just a slight pull of my hand, Mrs. Clark's face slid forward along the pillow until the head of my cock slipped in between her lips.

Despite being heavily intoxicated, she knew what was in her mouth as her tongue immediately darted out, grazing the very slit of my cock's head. The jolt of the warm and moist flesh flicking the most sensitive part of me exacerbated my own drûnken coordination, as I had fallen closer onto the bed from my previous leaning position. However, this only aided my drûnk pleasurer as she began to take more of my dick into her mouth while stroking the base with her hand.

"Oh Charles," Mrs. Clark softly mumbled. Confused by the wrong name blurted out, I soon remembered it as the name of Victor's father. She was so drûnk that she had mistaken me for her ex-husband, and was going to blow me as if I were him.

It wasn't long until Mrs. Clark began to hum with satisfaction in her blacked-out slèep as she slurped my rod intently. She was still u*********s but now animated, as her head bobbed forward and backward while still resting on the pillow. I struggled to remain still and quiet as I grumbled and groaned while the drûnk mother sucked and stroked me in succession. But my first blowjob was just beginning.

Mrs. Clark released my rod from her hands as her mouth continued to glide back and forth along my shaft. With her free hands, she ran her fingers along my hips and around my backside, f0rcibly pulling the weight of my waist toward into face. Her lips moved in the opposite direction, descending further down my shaft until I felt my cock's tip scrâpe the back of her tonsils. However, deepthroating me like this was not enough for Mrs. Clark. Her hands around my backside turned into a full bear hug as she pulled me even closer toward the back of her mouth until my feet elevated off the floor causing my entire body to collapse over her and into the bed.

In order to accommodate me, Mrs. Clark had rolled onto her back allowing me to adjust myself on the bed. I placed my knees just under her armpits, allowing her to maintain her hugging clutch while bobbing her head up and down on my steel member as I kneeled on top of her. My very first blowjob was not going to last much longer as I struggled to keep up with the horny drûnk woman. The suction from between her gums had intensified, and she began to flick her tongue along the underside of my cock which each descent of her mouth. I had to explode.

As my cock pulsed from impending eruption, I violently pulled my waist back in order to dislodge myself from Mrs. Clark's open mouth. I was a tad too late as my first elongated stream of cum erupted just inside the entry of her orifice, creating a long string of thick white cream that ran from the top of her tongue to just above her upper lip as my crotch retreated backwards. My second burst of cum was just as powerful and even more voluminous, striking the bridge of her nose to the bottom of her chin in one wide river of semen that immediately began to pool heavily with the cream from my first shot.

Despite the heavy lathering of her face, the facial seemed to go unnoticed as the intoxicated Mrs. Clark wanted nothing more than to have my cock back in her mouth. Before I could unload for my third burst of cum, Mrs. Clark had wrapped her hands around my backside again to pull me in for another sucking. I exploded not once, but twice inside her mouth, my cum streaming out from both corners of her lips as she failed to hold all the contents inside.

Only halfway through my ejaculation, I struggled once again to pull myself from her mouth as I continued to unload my cock dry. As I pulled back, Mrs. Clark's hands fought back to pull me forward, keeping the tip of the head a mere inch from her face as I pushed out another load. I gushed out a fifth shot of cream along the left side of her face, far enough for a puddle to collect on the lens of her glasses just above her left eye. I managed to fire a sixth shot of cum along the right side of her face as more sperm continued to run down the side of her cheek.

Still wanting to fully empty my sac's contents on her face, I resisted Mrs. Clark's pull back to her. Weak from orgasm, my body finally conceded to her demands as I fell forward again to only have Mrs. Clark swallow my cock once more. My seventh round of ejaculation was more of a thick oozing than an eruption as I poured another heavy dose into her mouth. I labored through my eighth and final burst of cum only to have the powerful suction of Mrs. Clark's mouth aid me as she slurped it straight out from my urethra.

In her inebriated state, I believed she finally became aware of my orgasm from the taste of warm semen in her mouth as she paused in her sucking in order to brush the pointed tip of her tongue along the still-dribbling slit of my cock's head in slow circular movements. I was still panting and whimpering from the never-ending stimulation to my vulnerable virgin cock. Her tongue continued to flick up and down my cock's opening, then around and around the circumference of the head, the stickiness of residual cum being lapped up and replaced with the slick shine of her saliva. My cock was completely drained...

...or so I thought.

As I remained seated on top of the lying woman, I had already begun to go limp as my softening dick simply dangled above Mrs. Clark's lips as she continued to clean it of any remaining cum. I wanted nothing more than to just get away and revel in my first blowjob, but Mrs. Clark's arms remained firmly around my backside as I kneeled on top of upper chest on her bed. With more than a healthy dose of cum still plastered on her face, she opened her mouth wide and took the extent of my floppy cock back into her mouth.

"Ugghhh... Errrr..." I groaned from the overstimulation of my limp cock.

Mrs. Clark picked up the pace of the blowjob again, able to completely swallow the flaccid dick in her mouth with ease. She took advantage of this, sticking her tongue out to simultaneously lick my sac with each swallow of my fleshy member. Her mouth was still full of my cum which she used to plaster the length of my own cock with thick, heaping white globs each time her mouth inhaled my shaft, only to clean it back up in her next oral descent. It wasn't long until I was hard once again, aroused by the relentless blowing of my dick and the sight of Mrs. Clark's thick facial from my very own teenage jizz.

"Ohhh Fwankwin," Mrs. Clark mumbled with my penis still in her mouth.

"Franklin?" I couldn't put a face to that name. She had just mistaken me for Charles not a moment ago. Now she had confused me with another mystery man she had undoubtedly been with before. She must have liked this Franklin fella more, because this second blowjob of hers was far more exuberant than the first.

Mrs. Clark had resorted to an amazing power sucking, the sound of her slurping on the entire length of my cock began to echo across the room. Her eyes were still partially opened with pupils rolled into the back of her head as she moaned loudly from my taste. After consecutively smashing her throat on my rod, she would occasionally pause in full deepthroat, gargling loudly until I felt the tickle of bubbling cum and saliva in her mouth. I found myself following her rhythm, leaning forward into the bed and face fucking her, each thrust of my waist paralleling her neck bobbing motion on my shaft.

When she finally needed air, Mrs. Clark pulled her head back and removed me from her mouth while leaving multiple drooping strings of semen and saliva bridged between the tip of my cock's head and her wet lips. She began jerking me off, with her hand becoming completely saturated from the concoction of juices that were just in her mouth. I turned to look back toward the mirror to get a third person perspective, no different than that of a recorded adult film.

From the mirror, you can clearly see her slick fingers gliding over my well-lubricated dick as she flicked her tongue along the head. I was still sitting on top of her chest when I began to look backward in the mirror at the lying woman's sculpted legs spread along the foot of the bed. Just how far could I go with this milf in her horny liquor c***?

I managed to shift backward on the bed until I was now kneeling between her legs. Mrs. Clark's hands were still reaching out like a blind woman out in front of her where I was just kneeling, looking for the cock she was just sucking. I placed both of my hands on her enormous breasts, grabbing and rubbing them firmly before pulling down the cups of her white summer dress. Mrs. Clark moaned, and clutched her own tits with her hands as soon as she felt them become free from my grasp. I ran my hand down along the side of her waist until I reached the hem of her skirt at her knees. I folded her skirt upward until her summer dress bunched conveniently at her stomach, exposing her bare snatch, void of any underwear.

"Yes Leo. Do it, Leo," she consented with yet another random name.

With her misguided permission, I ran by hands under her thighs in order to spread them wide. I took one more glance at the mirror to marvel at the sight of Mrs. Clark laying down on the bed. She was still rubbing her tits with her curvy legs spread just for me, only her abdomen clothed by her hastily stripped party dress. She was well-kept down there with only a clean landing strip of her curly brown pubic hair leading to luscious pink lips. I ran my hands behind her knees in order to hold them high as I dove in for my very first taste of a woman. As soon as my tongue contacted her clitoris, her hands dove down to clutch the hair on the back of my head. Knowing the effect i had on this u*********s woman, it wasn't long until I was sucking her clit vigorously until I felt her cunt's juices moisten my chin. I couldn't wait to fuck her.

I pulled myself up to a kneel again before leaning over Mrs. Clark. I drifted upward until my cock was just outside of her opening. Impatient, Mrs. Clark clutched my shaft in her hand before guiding it into her hole. It was a smooth and wet slide inside until Mrs. Clark clenched her walls, clamping tightly around my girth. The warm and snug enveloping of my cock was a brand new sensation as I idled in the moment, completely frozen well inside the depths of my best friend's mom.

"Fuck me, Thomas! Fuck me!" she ordered with a new name.

I may not have been Thomas, but I began to ram Mrs. Clark as if I were him as she began shouting at the top of her lungs with each plunge of my rock hard cock. Her body shook up and down the bed and her bouncing tits slid to and fro as I recklessly pounded into her cunt. I occasionally looked back at the mirror to enjoy the scene, witnessing Mrs. Clarks legs dangle behind me with toes curled into the soles of her grass-stained feet. I pinned her knees into her chest in order to plow her downwards, feeling the girth of my shaft hit every wall of her cunt before striking her cervix, her hands pulling and ripping the sheets under her. Mrs. Clark's cum-soaked face shifted in expressions from euphoria to overwhelming anguish back to climax as she wailed out more unrecognizable names.

I only stopped in order to keep myself from another early ejaculation, taking this moment to turn Mrs. Clark around. In her inebriated stupor, she obeyed like a whore by getting on her knees and forearms in doggystyle. She kept her face down with cum seeping from her chin to her pillow while she propped her ass up before me. After a few circular rubs of her round back cheeks, I grabbed her firmly by the waist and went in for another round of vigorous fucking. I didn't need her hand as a guide this time as I simply threw the weight of my hips immediately deep inside of her pussy. She convulsed at the violent thrust, but eased up enough for me to continue pounding her from behind. From the mirror's view, I could see her voluminous tits swinging to and fro with each thrust of my waist. I ran my hands around to cup them, grabbing two large handfuls as I continued to plunge deeper and deeper inside her.

The powerful battering of her insides f0rced Mrs. Clark to tighten around me even more to the point that her lips stretched around my cock as it was pulled in and out. The speed became so relentless that my flailing ball sac striking her lips and clit had created an emphatic, fast paced clapping noise. I was so lost in the movements that I had become startled by the sudden warm splashing along the inside of my thighs. Unable to see anything by looking down, I turned toward my trusty mirror view again to see Mrs. Clark squirting profusely. I didn't cease fucking as she continued to spray in one long successive stream until our legs glistened and the sheets had turned into a completely different shade from the saturation of her ejaculate.

Mrs. Clark was overwhelmed, burying her face into the pillow in order to soften her screams. I still wanted to see her face oozing with cum, so I grabbed handful of her curly hair, and yanked it backward f0rcibly until her neck tilted and her back arched. That audacious move was just one more sign of my emboldened romp as I continued to give everything I had in between Mrs. Clark's legs. This was the greatest feeling I had ever had. Yet, the act of losing my virginity in this manner to a horny, unabashed milf did not seem to fully satiate me, and I found myself wanting more and more.

The sound of repetitive thumps from hard, doggystyle pounding continued on. The feeling of wet misting persisted as Mrs. Clark continued to squirt throughout. But my eyes caught sight of something new. As Mrs. Clark's thick, smooth heart-shaped rear end smashed against my waist, I could see the tiny hole between the cheeks pucker. I used my thumb at first to tickle the tiny wrinkles of her asshole. I then pressed it inward, getting my thumb inside just to the first knuckle, feeling the warmth and tightness of her anus. With no opposition from the horny milf, I finally ceased fucking her, pulling out as her knees still quivered on the mattress. I hung my shiny cock, lathered in her cunt's juices, over her brown hole.

I finally poked her bottom, the tip of my cock unable to break through into her ass. Her tight asshole at first seemed impenetrable, unable to take in just the head of my dick. I used my thumb to press it in, her glute muscles finally caving enough to accept the first inch of my cock. Her hole immediately clenched, making it harder to trudge any further into her rectum. Still, there was no protest from the drûnken Mrs. Clark, despite her reflection in the mirror exhibiting her gritted teeth and eyes winced, cum still dripping from her glasses and lips. I leaned forward, hoping the weight of my posture would help push in further into her hole. Slowly but surely, I slid my fat cock into her airtight asshole until it was as deep as it could go. I remained very still, but the inebriated woman quivered under me as her ass gaped from my rock-hard member.

I idled no longer as I began sliding in and out of her ass at a snail's pace, feeling every bit of her anal clamp around my cock that could barely fit. Mrs. Clark illustrated the beautiful pain, a mix of both agony and pleasure from anal sex. In and out. In and out again. I began to pick up the pace. The reaming of her ass made her response that much more erratic and unpredictable. Her face scrunched and winced before her mouth opened wide for more euphoric orgasms. Her hands went from ripping the bedsheets to reaching between her legs to finger her now vacant pussy. I grabbed her by the waist again to resume the same hardcore pounding as earlier, this time in her ass, furthering both her agony and her delight.

"OH MY GOD! FUCK MY ASS! FUCK MY ASS, DONALD! FUCK MY ASS! IT HURTS SO GOOD!" she wailed explicitly so that the whole neighborhood could hear her.

My name wasn't Donald, but I was sure to oblige as I assaulted her tight asshole with little regard. Unable to hold herself up, her knees buckled, collapsing her body right into the bed. With her belly down, my own body weight had her pinned with no escape as I did not stop ramming my fat cock into her ass. She didn't move. She couldn't move. All she could do was lie flat, and take the anal punishment from me.

I, too, began to physically fatigue with my knees losing its support and my abdomen cramping from relentless thrusts into a hole that could barely fit me. Even within her drûnk state and explosive orgasm, I think Mrs. Clark sensed this, rolling over to her side. With my cock plugged deep into ass, my body had no choice by to follow until I had rolled over on my back with my best friend's mom now mounted on top of me in reverse cowgirl. This position proved to be more favorable as the weight of this slutty mom made it possible to bury my cock even further in her ass as she bounced on top of me. Her bare busty chest followed as they caromed up and down with each downward plunge of her buttocks.

The liveliness of an older woman's anal riding skills more than surprised me, and I could not last any longer deep inside her rear cavity. My throbbing cock began spurting more bursts of cum inside as Mrs. Clark's ass continued bouncing on top of me. I watched as my own semen was smothered back over the length of my shaft like lubricant as the drûnk milf continued to spring up and down my cock during her anal creampie. I tried pushing her off, but she was far from done stretching her own ass with a teen's thick schlong.

Finally, Mrs. Clark dismounted. I sank deep into her own bed, beyond exhausted and overstimulated, but not before she laid on top of me, taking my cock into her mouth once more with zero hesitation after where it had just been. She delicately swallowed and slurped, intimately cleaning and consuming the contents of her anal creampie from my flesh, while I continued to squirm under her. Despite my youth, I could not keep up with this mature woman. In that period of a seemingly unending fuck session and Mrs. Clark's insatiable fervor, I began to contemplate just as to who was taking advantage of whom in this romp. Still dizzy from orgasm and alcohol, I must have fainted right in that bed, my last memory being my sore cock still in the mouth of my best friend's drûnk and horny mother.
I awoke the next morning with a foggy head and deep ache on my crotch as the bright sun prodded at my heavy eyelids. I kept my eyes closed under the assumption I was in my own bed on a weekend morning. After a few twists and turns, I felt the still damp and messy sheets on my still naked lower half. I went from groggy to highly alert, startled by my realization of where I was and what happened the night before. The room was empty as I was left alone in Mrs. Clark's bed. I stumbled to dress myself from the waist down, and hesitantly approached the hallway just outside of Mrs. Clark's bedroom. I tip-toed to Victor's room, praying that he was oblivious to all that had happened. Luckily, he was, still slumped over in almost exactly the same position I left him from the night before thanks to the tequila.

I crept downstairs looking for my point of exit, catching a glimpse of a spry Mrs. Clark cleaning up yesterday's party mess in the living room. In an attempt to avoid her, I slithered past her and toward the back door instead. Unfortunately, my escape was foiled as Mrs. Clark's voice had me frozen in the kitchen. I turned to her with an awkward fright, unwilling to discuss how I had taken advantage of her as she was passed out. To my surprise, she looked at me with warm and greeting eyes. Of the few words of hers I could make out from my stupor, I realized that she was offering me morning breakfast as if it were any of the other slèepovers I have had here.

Did she not know what happened last night? She had obviously changed and cleaned up since last night, wearing a new colorful summer dress. Her face was washed, free of any bodily fluids. Her feet, however, had a brand new coating of earth and grass stains as she chose to remain barefoot when cleaning the house and patio. I couldn't help to assume that she was aware of what happened.

Still, I spoke as if I was just as naive and oblivious, declining any breakfast from Mrs. Clark. She remained warm and motherly toward me, insisting I have something wholesome to eat before hastily leaving this early in the morning. Mrs. Clark remained composed as I felt myself crumble from anxiety, finally consenting to an offering of a muffin and orange juice. Upon finishing, I bolted from the back door with no intention of returning to see Mrs. Clark any time soon.

Time went on, and I carefully observed Victor in school to see any possible changes in him. Luckily, he seemed unaware of what had happened, our friendship seemingly unaffected. Yet, I couldn't help but to be avoidant of him, afraid of the day he learns that I slept with his own mother. He did take notice of my distance, and it wasn't long until Mrs. Clark was holding another informal block party. After exhausting every excuse known to man, I had no choice but to concede to Victor's demands that I come to this party.

At the party, I remained hypervigilant, taking note of every single person at the party and their demeanor around me. I nodded and smiled as they all started casual talk with me. This was probably the first time I was focused enough to remember any of the adults' names. There was a Franklin. A Mr. Leo Murphy. Two or three Thomases. Donald was a rather hulking and intimidating man. All names I remembered from Mrs. Clark's drûnken mouth. All individuals I imagined had their turn with the slutty milf herself. As I began to paint the portrait of just how much Mrs. Clark got around, I began to relax thinking that there was no way she could remember our drûnken romp.

The party seemed to end early this evening when I finally left Victor's room. The living room was completely vacant with nothing but used paper plates and empty plastic cups. I looked out in the patio which was just as barren with the same left over trash littered about. Finally, I came across Mrs. Clark in the kitchen, sitting alone on the countertop of the kitchen's island, her legs crossed. She looked at me with another radiant smile, no different than any other greeting I have ever received from her.

"So how was the party?" she casually asked as I courteously approached her to say goodbye.

"It was fine.. ummm good...err fun," I responded nervously, ready to just retreat for the night.

Her legs swung playfully under her with the soles of her feet dirty once again from walking barefoot. Her party dress was more lovely than the last. Her bubbly smile faded into a slight smirk toward one side of her face. Her eyes went from full brimming gaze to a hint of mysteriousness with soft brown locks of curly hair cascading over her brow.

"I sent the other guys home early for a reason," she whispered.

She reached out to the counter to a bottle of whiskey, taking one enormous chug before looking back at me. I imagined I must have stood there awkwardly before Mrs. Clark, confused and naive. Sensing I needed a little nudge, those immaculate toned legs unfolded, spreading enough to flash just a small preview the contents under her dress. No panties like before. She took another manly swig of the liquor bottle before extending the opening toward my lips as an offering. I obliged, and took a sip of the bottle as well while Mrs. Clark ran her foot up my inner thigh and toward my crotch.

"Don't worry, I promise to scream the correct name this time."

-by cornball

97% (71/2)
Categories: AnalMatureTaboo
Posted by cornball
1 year ago    Views: 16,439
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5 months ago
great there needs to be a part II
5 months ago
8 months ago
Lucky young lad,,what an amazing experience
1 year ago
1 year ago