Mark Carver

Family with the hots

CHAPTER ONE

Every in morning at eight-thirty exactly, Anne Hawkins watched him leaving for school. She peered from her living room window, her eyes devouring his broad shoulders and slim waist. And always her burning gaze lingered on the thick bulge of his crotch, massive in his tight pants. When he turned the corner and disappeared, the lushly curved brunette let out a deep sigh, hugged her robe tighter round her plump breasts, and desperately fought the urge to masturbate.

A year, a whole long tormenting year since she'd felt a hot thrilling cock driving deep into her aching pussy! And powerfully throbbing in her wet, eager mouth. And ramming savagely into her tingling asshole.

Upstairs, Anne started drawing a hot bath and slipped out of her robe. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs as she critically examined her naked body in the full-length mirror. The sight of her own ripe hot tits and velvety skin, her sleek thighs framing her silky cunt-hairs almost always triggered a wild fingerfucking session. Her hips would jerk with increasing fervor as she dipped two fingers lewdly in and out of her juice-soaked cunt and her entire glowing nakedness would tremble from head to toe.

Until that delicious moment of explosive coming, when her burning juices were flowing and gushing onto her savagely fucking fingers. But it wasn't working any more. She needed the real thing, a live hot prick tearing relentlessly into her narrow slit, until she could faint with sheer ecstasy.

Her fingers dipped down to her glistening pussy-hairs and hesitated. How could anyone so voluptuous, so damned sexy be so deprived?

With a long, shaking sigh, the tall brunette slipped into the steaming hot-water and began soaping her lush tits. There would be no obscenely thrilling fingerfucking on this beautiful summer morning. Not as long as there was a handsome was hung like a bull in heat. She couldn't deny boy living across the street who what she had in mind was dangerous, especially in a small town like Rockville.

But if she didn't have an honest-to-God orgy of lewd sucking and fucking soon, she felt as if she'd lose her mind. She'd lived in Rockville a year now, the town's prim and quietly respectable music teacher. The nakedly curved brunette smiled when she remembered seeing the welcome sign as she drove into town.

And on a sheer impulse, she'd stopped, rented a small house and set herself up in business as the local music teacher. Piano and guitar, mostly, with most of her students, healthy teenagers of both sexes. Only now, after a year of aching, restless torment, she realized there was more artistry and music in a feverish blowjob and strenuous fucking session than all the piano concertos in the world.

At four-thirty this afternoon, the anxious divorcee had a lesson scheduled for Jack, the handsome boy who lived across the street, the hung darling she'd secretly dreamed about for months now. He was actually a lousy guitar player, but that wasn't the sort of lesson she had in mind. If she didn't lose her nerve, she'd show him some real music in the form of her sultry hot mouth and fiercely throbbing cunt.

The lush brunette raised one long, silken leg along the rim of the bathtub and lovingly stroked her smooth inner thigh. The big problem wasn't Jack, who was just a healthy, clean-cut kid with one of the biggest crotches she'd ever seen. It was his father. Good-looking bastard, but one of those stem, moralistic types who went punctually to church every Sunday, gazing down at everyone else with cold, superior eyes. Probably screwed his beautiful wife once a week for ten minutes exactly, before rolling over and snoring.