Chapter 14

Once again, Mrs. Davis denied me the climax I was approaching. She abruptly stopped eating out my asshole, rolled me over, and told me to sit up. I did while she got on the couch. Her ass was at the edge, her legs were spread wide, and her hand was on her crotch. “Son, can you jerk off for me? I want to see you beat off and shoot your cum. Shoot it right here. Can you do that, honey, cum on me?”

I wouldn’t have been comfortable masturbating in front of anybody, but the fact that Mrs. Davis kept calling me son and honey the way my mother might, made it more awkward.

Once my hand was stroking, the gorgeous woman in front of me fingered herself. That made it easier to think of her as Chris. I got on my knees between her spread legs and pumped my hardon. She opened her thick, womanly flaps and worked on her inflamed clit. The faster I stroked, the faster Mrs. Davis’s fingers worked.

She said, “Come closer.”

I leaned in until my cock head was about two inches from her pussy. Chris opened it wide, exposing the pink meat. Her pussy hole looked like it needed my cock in it. That’s where I wanted to shove it, deep inside her body. I wanted to cum with her flesh wrapped around me the way I had last time, but I knew better this time.

The juicy hole started flowing. My balls jerked and pumped out the first burst of cum. It was a bullseye, a direct hit on the center of her oozing hole. The next stream blasted her clit. She eagerly smeared my jizz up and down her inflamed groove with one hand. The other hand grabbed my jerking cock and pulled. “Shove it in me. Take me, son. I need you inside me.”

I shoved every inch into the flooded hole. “Oh, Mrs. Davis, oh, yeah.” Even though the woman’s fuck hole was flowing, it still clung to my sensitive flesh like a million tiny fingers. My cock felt right at home inside Mrs. Davis like her pussy was made for it.

I humped as hard and as fast as I could. My lover raised her legs up high, giving me the deepest penetration possible. I fucked like a jackrabbit, slapping my body against hers until my balls emptied again. This time my cum squirted inside Mrs. Davis’s body. I fell forward and laid there in her arms, enjoying her smooth skin.

Chris sighed. “Joe, you just fucked the hell out of me, surely, now you can stop calling me Mrs. Davis.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’ll try and remember.” I started kissing her as if she wasn’t an adult.

“I’m sorry if things got a little strange,” Chris said. “Sometimes I get a little kinky. You got me so excited; I lost it.”

“That’s okay,” I said.

“Remember, this has to stay between us! No matter what happens in the future, this is our secret, only ours.” She kissed me, and said, “You better go before your mother thinks I’m molesting you. And don’t forget what I told you, be careful with that thing, you could hurt a girl if you’re not careful.”

On the way back to my house, I thought about the last thing Chris said. Was it a message or just a comment? Jasmine seemed to know I wanted to do it with Susan but did their mother know, too?

The rest of the afternoon I thought about what had taken place. If Susan was right about her mother, then I had dumped my sperm, again, into a woman who was trying to get pregnant. If Mrs. Davis knew about me and Susan, then her calling me son while I fucked her was way more than a little kinky. The woman wanted to feel like she was fucking her son. Who was I to judge? I had blackmailed Jasmine into sex, and I had fucked the mother of the girl whose virginity I wanted to take. What the fuck happened to my normal life?

Weeks after the sexual exploits between Jasmine and Stacy, I could still get hard in seconds if I pictured the two teenage goddesses in Jasmine’s backyard. I had watched while Jasmine turned the prudish, do-gooder into a smoldering ball of carnal fire. Stacy, who had probably never made it past second base with a boy, got clobbered out of the ballpark on the tongue of her girlfriend. She went from prude, to spread eagle on a lawn chair, forcing her snatch into Jasmine’s face. I masturbated regularly playing the images over in my mind. Occasionally, I would switch up and think on the mother of the sexual corrupter. Jasmine’s mother must have cloned her rather than given birth to her. The thirty-something sex machine turned my normal teenager’s life into a mental and emotional catastrophe. Not to mention a sexual free-for-all.

One morning not long after Jasmine and Stacy consummated their girl-on-girl relationship, Jasmine saw me at my locker. I was already late for English because I forgot my book and had to go get it. Jasmine trapped me between her and my locker. It quickly became clear that Susan had told her about my spy center in the attic. After her teeth released my ear, in her way too sexy voice, Jasmine said, “So, did you enjoy the show? Did you get off watching Stacy get naked? You little pervert. If you play your cards right, maybe I can set it up so you can join us next time.” With that, she shoved her hand down the front of my pants, grabbed my cock, and whispered in my ear, “You bad boy, no underwear. I should yank this fat pole out right here and suck you off.”