David Crane

I saw Mommy kissing…

CHAPTER ONE

Catherine Weatherby wondered if her daughter was getting fucked. The girl was out on a date and it was after midnight. It was the sort of thing that a mother wondered about.

Catherine wasn't worried, however. She loved fucking, herself. She assumed that her daughter would inherit her sexual inclinations, but she wasn't sure if the girl had started fucking yet, or was still a virgin. Catherine didn't care. In fact, it made her horny to imagine the girl getting fucked with a big, hard prick. She liked to think about it. She liked to play with her pussy while she thought about her daughter getting fucked, in all the graphic detail her imagination could supply.

She thought about it now.

Catherine was in bed with her husband, Robert.

Robert was asleep.

Didn't he wonder why their daughter, Joanne, was not tome yet?

She wondered if her husband, too, liked to think about the girl getting fucked. She hoped so. She liked to imagine Robert beating his meat while he considered his daughter's sexual behavior. It excited her to think of her husband masturbating – although he certainly didn't have to jack off, because Catherine's cunt was always available, and never once had she refused him a fuck. But still – it was a pleasant speculation. And, too, Catherine got all the prick she wanted from Robert and still enjoyed giving herself the odd hand-job, so what the hell.

Catherine was thirty-six.

She was a beautiful woman with a mane of tawny hair, slanted eyes the color of jade and a wide, sensuous mouth. Her tits were large and firm, capped by big, usually stiff nipples. Her legs were long, smooth and shapely. They seemed to have been designed expressly for the purpose of wrapping themselves around a man's flanks as he fucked in between. Her pussy was a caldron most of the time.

Before she married Robert, Catherine had been quite promiscuous, to the delight of the many men who dated her.

She had not cheated on Robert since they were wed, however.

She had thought about committing adultery and the idea was exciting, but she hadn't actually done it. She wasn't sure why, but she knew a large part of it was the fact that her husband was possessed of the biggest prick she had ever seen. That huge hunk of cockmeat was his main asset – and the main reason why she had married Robert instead of one of the other men who had proposed.

She didn't regret it.

But she did like to think about fucking other men.

Lying awake, on her back, Catherine cupped her hand over her crotch and squeezed gently. She wasn't really finger-fucking herself. She was just petting her pussy. Her cunt responded to her caress. The lips of her cunt unfurled like the petals of a pink blossom and the cunt slit opened into an oval slot that filled up with creamy cunt juice. Her clit began to tingle.

She thought about waking Robert for a fuck.

Or should she just finger-fuck herself, instead?

Robert, too, was lying on his back. Catherine reached across his hips and sought his prick. It was not hard, but even soft it was an impressive hunk of cockmeat. She stroked his prick with her fingertips and smiled as she felt it tense and tremble, awakening even though its master was still sound asleep.

A car pulled up in front of the house.

The engine was running. Catherine listened. After a few minutes, the car door closed and she heard Joanne walk up the front steps onto the porch. The car left. The front door opened. Joanne came in and came directly up to bed. Catherine heard her go down the hallway.

It was after one now. Catherine grinned wickedly. She figured that Joanne must have been doing something. If she wasn't fucking, she had at least been doing some heavy petting. The girl was certainly old enough to know what cocks were for. She had been out with a boy who had his own car and looked like a horny rascal.

Catherine had lost her own cherry when she was quite young.

She hadn't regretted it in the slightest. Far from it. She was glad to get rid of the damned thing. It had happened in the back seat of a convertible with a boy who could hardly believe it when she let him go all the way. He had been a virgin, too. Catherine hadn't liked him very much, really – he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

She had decided that morning that it was time to get fucked.

The boy had called and asked for a date a few minutes after she had made that decision.

So he got to fuck her.

After that, Catherine fucked every boy and man that took her out, usually on the first date. If she liked him or found him particularly attractive or exciting, she sucked his cock, as well. Then she met Robert, and her promiscuous period ended.

But she looked back fondly on those days. She identified with her daughter, who was now in those formative years. Lucky Joanne! Catherine imagined her in the car with her date.

What was his name? Johnny something. Johnny Watson, that was it. Not that his name mattered at all. Catherine wondered if he was a virgin. He was a good-looking teenager.

Catherine found herself fantasizing more and more about young boys lately. When she was a teenager, she had preferred older men. Now that she was in her thirties, the thought of fucking a teenage boy drove her wild. She would have loved to seduce a sexy teenaged boy. Preferably a virgin.

Catherine tingled at the thought.

He would be horny, desperate for pussy, yet innocent. She could leach him all about fucking, running the gamut of sexual couplings, introducing him to lust and love.

She figured she would take his cock in her mouth, first. She would suck him off.

What a thrill it would be to have a mouthful of big, hot, hard, virgin prick! What a delicious treat. And when he shot his virgin jism into her mouth, she knew she would melt with joy.

Then they would fuck for a long time.

The boy would probably come quickly once he had his cock in her cunt, but he would have the endurance and the stamina of his youth, and he would keep right on fucking, without pause, even after he came. He would fuck her from the top, then from the back. She could get on top after a while and fuck another orgasm out of him. He would fill her hot cunt to the brim with load after load of his cum.

Of course, it was all just fantasy.

She wouldn't really do a thing like that.

Would she?

She was getting awfully horny now, as she rubbed her pussy and thought about that imaginary young boy.

Then she thought about her daughter again, wondering once more if Joanne had started fucking yet or if she was still at the stage of giving hand-jobs and getting finger-fucked.

That was an exciting thought, in itself. She imagined Joanne pumping merrily away on a stout young prick, passionately panting as she pulled, the boy starting to moan and whimper – and then all of a sudden a great stream of jism erupting from the head of his cock and flying up to splash on the headliner of the car. Or maybe she liked to jack boys off on her tits. That was a happy thought, all that hot, thick spunk spurting onto the girl's tits and nipples. And afterwards – did she wipe their pricks with a Kleenex or lick them clean with her tongue?

The thought was so thrilling that Catherine found herself actually hoping that her daughter was a cock-sucker.

Catherine certainly was.

CHAPTER TWO

Ever since she had her first taste of cockmeat, Catherine had been a devoted cocksucker. Even before she'd had that first taste, she had been pretty sure that it was a thing she was going to enjoy, but she hadn't realized how succulent a cock was until she'd gobbled the first one. She had already fucked four or five boys by then and was very curious about cock-sucking and eager to try it.

But she had been shy at first. She had an idea that sucking cock was the sort of thing that proper young ladies did not do, until they were married, or at least engaged to be married. It seemed naughtier than straightforward fucking. So, although her mouth watered for prick, she resisted the urge to gulp one – until on one fortunate evening a randy young man had slipped his cockmeat into her mouth without any warning. It surprised her so much that she gasped and inhaled. Inhaling was much the same thing as sucking. The delighted girl kept right on at it after that first sharp intake of breath, sucking away until she had milked him dry.

She swallowed every drop of his cum.

Cum made a delicious conclusion to the meaty meal and Catherine became a confirmed cock-sucker on the spot. The hell with her reputation, she figured – cock was too tasty to turn down. After that she did plenty of cocksucking, sometimes just as a preliminary to fucking, but often as an end in itself, drinking the man's spunk hungrily. One wonderful night she even let half a dozen horny youths gang-bang her in the mouth, one right after the other, drinking her fill.

Later, calling her a cock-sucker, they kicked her out of the car on a lonely road.

Walking home, she was offered a lift by a traveling salesman.

She sucked his cock, too.

Thinking about the joy of cock-sucking and cum-drinking now, Catherine really began to steam. She remembered all the time she had done it, and she imagined her daughter sucking cock with the same style, skill and gusto.

Her cunt was like a burning ember between her smooth thighs.

She stroked her clit and pushed her middle finger in and out of her slippery fuck-hole.

She played with her husband's prick with her other hand, stroking gently. His big cock began to expand and grow hard, although he was still asleep. It excited her to give him a hard-on while he was sleeping, helpless, not even realizing it – maybe beginning a wet dream. She folded her fist around his thick cock and began to slowly pump up and down, until his massive prickshaft was standing in a rampant tower of throbbing cockmeat. She pulled the covers down so that she could see his cock while she stroked it. She decided to jerk him off while she finger-fucked herself, wondering if she could make him come without waking him up.

Then she had a better idea, horny woman that she was.

Catherine decided to suck his cock while he slumbered.

Lying on her side, supported by an elbow, Catherine gazed adoringly at Robert's huge cocklance as it stood above his loins in a throbbing tower of iron-hard cockmeat.

Catherine licked her lips.

She was wondering how to do it.

To a lesser woman, that might have seemed a strange consideration. To a woman who sucked cock strictly to please a man, or because she enjoyed it mildly and in moderation, cock-sucking was cock-sucking, plain and simple. They popped a prick in their mouth and sucked and, after a while, were rewarded with a mouthful of hot jism which they swallowed or, if they were not so inclined, spat delicately out.

These women did not realize the endless variety of approaches to cock-sucking, the countless styles and skills involved. They were limited to a single method and stuck to it, sucking each cock in the same way, each time.

But cock-hungry Catherine liked to vary her technique, and she knew all the varieties from delicious experience.

Sometimes she took Robert's cockhead into her mouth and sucked softly on it, her tongue fluttering back and forth against the underside of the fat slab of prickmeat, causing it to flare and swell and fill her mouth to the brim. It lasted a long time that way. She liked to make it last, for she truly enjoyed the cockmeat course that preceded the creamy dessert. Not touching him at all, except for the head of his prick, she gave a prolonged, leisurely blowjob.

At other times, she speeded the process up by stroking his cockshaft while sucking on the cock-knob – jerking him off into her mouth, in effect. It was not as gentle and tender that way, with her fist doing most of the work, but it got the job done in a hurry and was useful when they did not have a great deal of time, or when Catherine happened to be really starving for a load of jism.

Again, she might use only her mouth, but bob her head up and down so that, instead of sucking only on the fat cockhead, she took the whole long prick into her mouth – and even down into her gullet – deep-throating him with a steady rhythm.

Often she did not use her mouth at all, but only her hot and nimble tongue, lapping and laying the cock-knob or tonguing up the prickstalk until his creamy cum spurted out in a torrent, skimming past her cheek. Then she would gather the delicious stuff up with her questing tongue, licking his cockrod and prickknob glistening clean.

Sometimes she liked to have him jerk himself off in her mouth, or on her fat tits, which was not really a blow-job at all but had the same end result when she subsequently sucked his prick-knob and slurped the spunk from the big slab of purple cockmeat.

And the positions changed, as well.

She loved to kneel down in front of him as he stood, giving a classic kneeling blow-job just like a whore in an alley. Sometimes she did this outdoors, in the back yard, thrilled by the idea that one of the neighbors might see them. Once or twice, she had done it when they were at someone else's house, at a party, taking Robert into the bathroom and kneeling before him with the door unlocked, driven to wild joy by the thought that anyone might walk in and find her with a mouthful of prick.

She also liked to have Robert get on top of her, straddling her torso, his balls sliding over her tits as he fucked her in the mouth.

She didn't do anything when they did it that way. She just opened her mouth and let him pour the prick to her at his own pace; the fat shaft of cock fucking in and causing her to gasp and then blowing his wad in with such force that it nearly blew tier head right off his cock as it hit her throat.

How should she do it now, while he slept? She decided that a soft, gentle blow-job was in order. She wanted to make him come without waking him up.

Catherine was fantasizing wildly now.

She pretended that he was Joanne's boyfriend and that she was about to seduce the teenager. And then she pretended that she a Joanne, about to blow her own father.

These dark fantasies were causing her to pant with passion. Her pussy was overflowing. She cupped her cunt in her hand and her palm filled up with cunt juice. The hot pussy juice overflowed and ran down her thighs.

But she was determined not to reach the crest yet, to save her own orgasm to coincide with her husband's, and she did not rub her cunt. She just held her flowing cunt in her hand, as if to contain the lust within her loins.

She leaned over Robert's belly.

Not touching him yet, she blew her heated breath down onto the head of his prick. The big cockrod swapped like a palm tree in a tropical gale and the cockhead flared out in a wide wedge. Dark veins pulsed up his prickshaft and his balls expanded like balloons.

Catherine was drooling for a mouthful of cum, but she delayed, teasing herself, prolonging the feast.

She began to flick the tip of her tongue lightly over the very end of his cockhead, licking and laying. Moving lower, she licked his swollen balls lovingly, feeling the hard balls shift inside the hairy sac as her talented tongue caressed them. His balls were enormous now, filled with a lovely load of cum, and she knew that it would not take very long to milk that succulent sac of its nectar.

She tongued up his prickstall tracing along the pulsing vein, licking, from balls to cockknob. Then she did it again, switching her tongue back and forth this time, zig-zagging up his prickrod. She flutter-kissed his cock at the electric point of sensation where his thick cockshaft spread out into the fat, flaring wedge of his cockhead.

A trickle of preliminary spunk oozed from the cleft of his cockhead.

"Oooooh!" Catherine whimpered.

She drew back slightly, watching that solitary nugget of quick silvery cum run sluggishly down the slope of his prick-knob and onto his cockshaft. Then she gathered it up with her tongue. She let the tasty drop of precum slip around on her tongue for a moment, savoring the flavor and the texture, then she swallowed it down happily.