1. The Neiborliness of Andrea Williams


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Author: Mario Caliente, Rating: 66.7, Source: sexstories.com

    deepest recesses of her anatomy. Andrea encircles his legs with hers and wraps her arms around him. “Let me smell your fingers,” she pants. When he holds them below her nose, she takes a deep whiff, breathing in her fragrance. “This is what I smell like, Brandon,” she hisses. “Smell me!” and he complies, wiping his fingers across his nostrils. “This is what a hot woman smells like, sweetie. A hot woman that you’re having!” She licks his fingers with long, erotic strokes of her tongue, then kisses him, sending her tongue as far into his mouth as she can. The couple—she old enough to be his mother, he young enough to be her son—proceed to fuck with abandon on the floor of the family room, his body on top of hers, dominating her. The boy has already ejaculated twice on this evening and his staying power now is off the charts—he could probably continue fucking the hot cougar all night if he had to. After a long while of furious sex in the missionary position, their bodies glistening with sweat, Andrea rolls Brandon over onto his back. His swollen, wet penis disengages from her momentarily, but Andrea quickly crawls on top of him and sits upon him, her thighs straddling him, and reaches for his manhood and positions it and then lowers herself onto him, impaling herself on it, sighing deeply as she feels him reenter her with a penetration so deep that she thinks for a moment his cock is going to come up into her throat. “Just stay hard for me, baby,” she pants, her voice ...
    hoarse. “You’re my horsey and I’m going to ride you, sweetie. Just stay hard for momma, okay? Just stay hard for her. That’s all you have to do.” Impatiently, Andrea shrugs off her blouse. The way its open front was hanging was annoying to her because it was blocking some of her view of her young lover’s magnificent body. She ignores the bra. It is such a flimsy thing that it’s almost like wearing nothing and is certainly not blocking anything she wants to see. Once the blouse is out of the way, Andrea leans forward and brings her knees up to where they straddle the boy’s chest at the level of his nipples. Leaning forward, her face hovering over his forehead, her knees digging into the sides of his chest, she looks for the world like a female jockey riding a thoroughbred down the backstretch at Churchill Downs. If only she had a riding crop the image would be complete. Instead of a horse’s saddle, however, she is riding the insatiable cock of a teenage stud in the prime of his sexual maturity; an irony since he is not legally old enough for her to be riding him this way. But the forbiddance of this—the wrongness of it—the fact that society says this is wrong—is much of what makes this so thrilling to her. “Stay hard for your momma, baby!” Andrea cries as her lower abdomen twists and thrusts against his, her movements sending his cock in and out of her. Her breasts, sheathed in their flimsy bra, jiggle wildly beneath her as she leans over her lover, her upper body horizontal and ...
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