A New House at Old Mesa Praire
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 2
Western Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Two pairs, a mothers and sons, struggle amidst the cruelty of a city that oppresses them. Although not yet adult males, the two sons struggle together to save their mother from the hardships of their dirty jobs.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Teenagers Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction War Western Incest Mother Son Anal Sex Porn Theatre Prostitution
The next morning, Billy approached Mrs. Flynn with the same trepidation a man might feel when walking into a gunfight with nothing but a knife. Rachel had insisted that they keep her informed of every detail, and she had agreed to meet them in the back room of the Golden Garter to discuss the proposal. The smell of stale beer and sweat clung to the walls, a constant reminder of the saloon’s true nature.
Mrs. Flynn looked up as Billy entered, her expression a mix of weariness and resignation. She knew what he was there for; Rachel had already laid it out for her in the coldest, most business-like manner possible. “Your son Billy tells me you’ve got quite the show planned for the Hawthornes tonight,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion.
Billy’s heart felt like it was in a vice as he stepped closer, the cloying smell of the saloon’s cheap perfume and tobacco stinging his nose. Rachel lounged in the corner, watching the exchange with the same detached amusement she had shown during their performance the night before. “Ma,” he began, his voice shaking. “It’s ... it’s just one night.”
Rachel sailed in, her skirts swishing as she approached Mrs. Flynn. She laid a comforting hand on Billy’s shoulder, her voice smooth as honeyed whiskey. “The Hawthornes are expecting something ... special,” she purred. “They’ve paid handsomely for a performance that’ll set tongues wagging across the West.”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable. “And what exactly does that entail?” she asked, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hand as she folded Billy’s shirt.
Rachel leaned against the bar, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “They want the full experience, Mrs. Flynn,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “They’ve heard of your ... talents, and they’re willing to pay handsomely for a taste of the forbidden.”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes widened slightly, her hand pausing in its work. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tight with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Rachel leaned in closer, her lips curving into a predatory smile. “They want a real family affair,” she said, her words as smooth as the whiskey that flowed through the saloon’s veins. “A mother and son, sharing the stage in the most intimate of ways.” She paused for effect, her eyes flicking to Billy, who stood there, frozen with a mix of dread and excitement. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before, Mrs. Flynn,” Rachel added, her voice a purr that seemed to resonate through the very air. “But this time, it’s going to be without many audience, and for a price that’ll set you and Billy up for a long, long time.”
Mrs. Flynn’s gaze never left Rachel’s, the silence in the room stretching taut like a bowstring ready to snap. Finally, she spoke, her voice a hoarse whisper. “They want me to ... with Billy?” Her eyes darted to her son, the question in them as painful as a gunshot wound. Billy couldn’t meet her gaze, his own eyes fixed on a spot just over Rachel’s shoulder.
“Yes,” Rachel said, her voice unwavering. “They want to see the ultimate taboo, Mrs. Flynn. You know how the rich love their little indulgences. And let’s face it, you’ve done worse for less.” The words were like a slap in the face, but Mrs. Flynn took them without flinching, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“But Billy’s just a boy,” she protested, her voice a mix of motherly concern and desperation. Rachel’s smile grew, a cruel twist of the knife. “He’s a man in the eyes of the law, and he’s certainly old enough to satisfy a woman’s needs,” Rachel countered. “You wouldn’t deny him the experiences other boys his age have, would you?”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes searched Billy’s, looking for any sign of protest or resistance. But Billy just stared back at her, his own thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and desire. Rachel’s words had stirred something within him, something that had been buried deep since he had first become aware of his mother’s beauty. Rachel’s touch had brought it to the surface, and now he couldn’t ignore it.
“Ma,” Billy began, his voice cracking with a mix of fear and excitement. “It’s just for the show,” he said, his eyes pleading.
Mrs. Flynn stared at Rachel, her expression a tumultuous storm of anger and despair. Rachel held her gaze, her own smile never wavering. “The stage,” Rachel said, her voice a sultry whisper, “has no room for modesty. And as a professional, I’m sure you understand the necessity of giving the audience what they want.”
Her eyes slid to Billy, who was still frozen in place. “The Hawthornes are not just any audience,” Rachel continued. “They’re the crème de la crème of this shit-kicking town. And they want a performance that’ll make them feel like royalty, like they’re truly living on the edge of civilization.” She took a sip of her whiskey, the liquid amber fire in her glass. “They want to see you, Mrs. Flynn, fucking your own son like the wild, untamed creature you truly are.”
Mrs. Flynn’s face paled, but Rachel’s words had hit their mark. She knew the power of the dollar, and Rachel had painted a picture of a future where that power could be theirs. Rachel leaned in closer, her hand sliding up Mrs. Flynn’s arm, her fingers ghosting over the soft flesh. “You’ve seen the way they look at you, the way they crave you. Imagine their faces when you give them the ultimate show. When you show them that nothing is sacred in this town, not even the bond between mother and son.”
The room was silent except for the distant sounds of the saloon’s preparations for the evening’s entertainment. Rachel’s eyes held Mrs. Flynn’s, the promise of wealth and escape glittering in their depths. “You’ll be setting a precedent, Mrs. Flynn,” Rachel said, her voice a silky whisper. “A new standard for the Golden Garter, one that’ll have the whole West talking.”
Mrs. Flynn took a deep breath, her hand trembling slightly as she set Billy’s shirt aside. “Alright,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “If it’s what you think is best, Rachel.” She looked at Billy, her eyes filled with a mix of love and resignation. “You’re a man now, Billy,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “And if this is what you need to do to provide for us, then so be it.”
Billy felt a strange mix of relief and horror wash over him. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but at the same time, he felt like he was signing his mother’s soul away to the devil herself. Rachel’s smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Excellent,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Now, let’s get down to business. I’ve got some ideas for the show that’ll have the Hawthornes begging for more.”
Mrs. Flynn looked at her son with a strange mix of love and resignation. “I’ll do it,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “For you, Billy.” The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lengths she would go to ensure their survival. Rachel’s hand slid down Billy’s arm, her grip firm and reassuring. “You won’t regret this,” she whispered. “This is our ticket out of here.”
“Mrs. Flynn,” Rachel said with a knowing smile, her voice a seductive purr, “the Hawthornes have invited some special guests tonight. They’re eager to see if you two can truly deliver the kind of performance that’ll make their jaded hearts race.”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes widened slightly, her hand still trembling as she picked up the shirt she had been folding. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Rachel’s smile grew, her eyes glinting with excitement. “The Hawthornes have a little gathering tonight,” she explained, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Some of their most ... influential friends will be in attendance.” She let the words hang in the air, watching as Mrs. Flynn’s expression morphed from confusion to understanding. “And if the two of you can give them the performance of a lifetime,” Rachel continued, her hand sliding down to cover Billy’s, “then who knows where the night might take us?”
Billy felt his stomach lurch at the thought of performing in front of a crowd of strangers, but the promise of a better future for his mother was too tantalizing to resist. Rachel noticed his hesitation and leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “You can do this, Billy,” she murmured. “You’re a man now, and it’s time you started acting like one.”
Mrs. Flynn took a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving Billy’s. “We’ll do it,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremble in her chest. Rachel’s eyes gleamed with victory as she nodded.
“Good,” she said, her tone business-like. “Now, Mrs. Flynn, we need to make sure Billy is ... prepared for his debut tonight. Nerves can ruin a performance, especially one of this caliber.” Rachel’s gaze slid to Billy, who was now looking anywhere but at his mother. “Why don’t you take him upstairs, teach him the ropes, so to speak.”
Mrs. Flynn’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but she nodded. Rachel’s grip on Billy’s hand was firm as she led him up the narrow staircase to one of the small, cramped rooms that lined the hallway. The walls were paper-thin, the sounds of the saloon’s prep work echoing through them like whispers of their fate. Rachel pushed open the door to one of the rooms and gestured for them to enter.
The space was dimly lit, the only light coming from a solitary candle flickering on a small table. The bed looked like it had seen more than its fair share of use, the sheets tangled and stained with the sweat and passion of countless patrons. Mrs. Flynn sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes avoiding Billy’s as she began to undo the buttons of her dress. Billy felt his heart hammering in his chest, his cock swelling with a mix of fear and arousal as he watched his mother’s slow, deliberate movements.
“Ma,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I ... I don’t know if I can do this.” Mrs. Flynn’s hands paused, her gaze finally meeting his. “You have to, Billy,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “For us.”
Rachel’s instructions echoed in her mind: “make him hard.” She couldn’t believe what he was about to do, but she knew the stakes were too high to back down now.
Mrs. Flynn took a deep, shaky breath and turned over, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the cool air kiss her naked skin as Billy fumbled with the strings of her sling short panties. He had seen her naked before, but never like this, never with such a stark purpose. Rachel’s eyes never left hers, the candlelight casting shadows on the walls as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation.
With trembling hands, Billy pulled the scrap of fabric away, revealing his mother’s voluptuous ass. Rachel had been right; the sight of it made his cock throb with a need that was almost painful. Mrs. Flynn squatting there, her face a mask of conflicting emotions - love for her son, fear for their future, and a strange, almost animalistic need to survive.
Her skin was pale in the candlelight, the curves of her body stark and beautiful against the grimy walls of the brothel. Rachel’s eyes never left them, a silent observer to their most intimate and depraved act. Billy felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as he took in the sight of his mother’s nakedness, the reality of what was about to happen crashing over him like a tidal wave.
With trembling fingers, he reached out and began to untangle the strings of her sling short panties, his cock thickening with every inch of bare flesh revealed. Mrs. Flynn’s breath hitched as she felt the fabric slide away, leaving her exposed to her son’s gaze. Rachel’s words played in his mind like a taunting melody, pushing him to embrace the darkness that had become their new reality.
As he took in the sight of his mother’s bare ass, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over Billy. The taboo nature of the act filled him with a mix of arousal and dread. Rachel’s eyes never left them, her expression unreadable as she leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. Mrs. Flynn’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, her body taut with tension.
“Billy,” Rachel instructed, her voice a siren’s call, “I need you to show us what you’re made of.” She stepped closer, her hand sliding down his back to cup his burgeoning erection. “Give your mother a taste of what the audience will want tonight.” Rachel’s touch was electric, sending a jolt of excitement through him.
Billy’s eyes locked onto Mrs. Flynn’s voluptuous curves, her big, round ass bent over the edge of the bed. His hands hovered for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Rachel’s hand guided his, placing it on the soft flesh of his mother’s ass. “Feel her,” Rachel whispered, her breath hot on his ear. “Remember, it’s all just a part of the show.”
With a tremble, Billy followed Rachel’s instructions, his palm pressing into the plump mound. He squeezed gently, feeling the warmth and softness beneath his hand. It was a strange sensation, one that both repulsed and excited him. Rachel’s hand slipped away, leaving Billy to explore on his own. He slid his hand along the curve, his thumb tracing the crevice between her cheeks. Mrs. Flynn’s breath hitched, but she remained still, allowing him the control he desperately needed.
The saloon owner leaned in closer, her breath warm on his neck. “Go on, Billy,” she urged, her voice a seductive whisper. “Make it look like you mean it.” He swallowed hard and brought his hand back, his palm connecting with a firm slap against Mrs. Flynn’s ass. The sound echoed through the room, a harsh reality in the otherwise quiet space. Rachel’s eyes gleamed with approval, her own hand idly stroking her thigh as she watched the intimate scene unfold.
Mrs. Flynn flinched at the contact, her eyes squeezing shut as she bit her bottom lip. Rachel’s gaze never left Billy, the smoldering look in her eyes a silent command for him to continue. He hesitantly leaned forward, his lips brushing against the soft flesh of his mother’s ass cheek. The sensation was alien, yet strangely tantalizing. Rachel’s hand slid around to cup Billy’s cheek, guiding his face closer to the rounded curves of his mother’s body.
“That’s it,” Rachel murmured, her voice a warm caress. “Kiss her, Billy. Make her feel desired.”
Billy’s eyes darted to Rachel’s, then back to his mother’s ass. With a deep breath, he leaned in, his mouth pressing a gentle kiss to her skin. It was a strange sensation, one that made his stomach flip-flop. Rachel’s hand slid away, leaving him to navigate the uncharted waters of his own desires. He kissed again, this time with more confidence, his tongue tracing the curve of Mrs. Flynn’s ass cheek. He could feel her tremble beneath his touch, but she made no move to stop him.
Rachel stepped back, her eyes never leaving the pair. “That’s it, Billy,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Give the audience what they want.” The words echoed in his mind, a twisted mantra that both excited and terrified him. He knew the show they were to put on would be talked about for years to come, the kind of scandal that could either ruin or make their lives in this small, unforgiving town.
“Your mother’s ass is a thing of beauty,” Rachel said, her eyes raking over Mrs. Flynn’s exposed flesh with an appreciative gaze. “It’s a sight to behold, and the audience will pay handsomely for the privilege.”
Billy felt a surge of conflicting emotions. The words were crude, but Rachel’s tone was one of admiration, a strange blend of respect and depravity that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed hard, his cock pulsing with a mix of fear and arousal as he stared at his mother’s naked body. Rachel’s hand slid around his waist, her fingers lightly grazing the base of his cock. “Don’t be shy,” she urged, her voice a seductive whisper. “Your mother’s a pro. She know about pleasing a man.”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes remained shut, her breath coming in ragged gasps as Rachel’s words sank in. With a tremble, she reached back and spread her ass cheeks apart, revealing the pink, puckered hole of her anus and the slick folds of her pussy. Rachel’s eyes gleamed with approval as she nodded at Billy. “There you go,” she said, her voice a soft purr. “Take a good look, Billy. This is what makes men like the Hawthornes drool.”
The sight of his mother’s gaping pussy from the previous night’s performance flashed through Billy’s mind, but now it was closed tight, a stark contrast to the reality he was now facing. Rachel’s words from last night echoed in his head, taunting him with the memory of his mother’s stretched, used body. Despite the horror that had filled him then, he found himself drawn to the intimate scene before him now. The reality of what they were about to do washed over him, a mix of fear, excitement, and a strange sense of obligation.
Rachel noticed his shock and stepped closer, her hand sliding around his neck, her thumb stroking the taut muscle beneath his ear. “It’s a woman’s advantage in Dusty Creek, Billy,” she whispered, her breath tickling his skin. “They can take a man’s biggest cock and still look like a virgin the next day.” Rachel’s voice was low, her tone a strange mix of reassurance and excitement. “It’s the magic of the trade, the allure that keeps them coming back for more.”
Rachel leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. “You see, Billy,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “the women here are so well-used, so experienced, that nothing surprises them anymore. They’ve had it all - the biggest cocks, the most intricate toys. That’s what makes them perfect for shows like this.”
Her hand slid down to cup his cock again, her grip firm and knowing. “But the beauty of it all,” she continued, her voice a seductive purr, “is that no matter how much they’ve been filled, no matter how much they’ve been used, they can still make a man feel like he’s the only one who’s ever been there.”
Billy looked at Rachel, her words a confusing jumble in his mind. She stepped back, her hand sliding away from his cock, leaving him feeling both relieved and oddly empty. “It’s all about the business, Billy,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. “And the women of Dusty Creek, they’re the best in the pussy business.”
“They’re used to everything,” Rachel continued, her voice a sultry drawl. “They can take a strap-on the size of a horse and still walk straight the next morning. It’s a talent, really. And it’s what makes them so valuable to the likes of the Hawthornes.” She winked at him, her tone light despite the gravity of the situation. “So, don’t you worry about breaking your mother, she’s a tough old bird. She’ll handle whatever you’ve got, and come back for more.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Billy felt a strange mix of anger and excitement bubble up inside of him. Rachel’s bluntness was both jarring and oddly comforting, a stark reminder of the world they lived in and the lengths they had to go to survive. He took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed, his cock now fully erect and throbbing with a need that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“You see now, Billy,” Rachel said, her voice smooth as silk, “the women here are seasoned. They know what a man wants, and they know how to give it to him.” She leaned in, her breasts brushing against Billy’s arm as she spoke. “They’re used to the biggest, blackest cocks, the most intricate toys that would make a saint weep with pleasure. That’s their advantage in Dusty Creek.” Rachel stepped back, her eyes gleaming with a fierce pride. “They can handle anything, and that’s what makes them so valuable.”
Billy’s eyes flickered to his mother, who remained bent over the bed, her ass exposed and waiting. Rachel’s hand found his cock again, giving it a firm squeeze. “And you, Billy,” she said, her voice a seductive whisper, “you’re about to become one of the luckiest men in town.” She stepped away, her eyes never leaving Billy’s face. “You’re about to fuck one of our best.” Rachel gestured to Mrs. Flynn, her hand sweeping over her plump form like a painter admiring their muse.
“Your mom here, Billy,” Rachel continued, her voice filled with a strange mix of pride and greed, “has a pussy that’s seen more cock than the entire town put together. And yet, she still tightens around a man like a glove, milks him like a pro.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled with a predatory glint. “And from tonight, she’s all yours. Show her what you’re made of.” Rachel’s words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation wrapped in one.
Mrs. Flynn looked up at her son, her eyes pleading and yet resigned. Rachel’s hand was on her shoulder, pushing her gently down onto the bed. She lay there, her voluptuous figure sprawled out before Billy like an offering to a hungry god. Rachel leaned in, her own breasts brushing against Mrs. Flynn’s as she whispered in her ear. “You know what to do,” she said, a smirk playing on her lips.
Mrs. Flynn took a deep breath and leaned back, her hands moving to her breasts, cupping them in a way that made Billy’s cock throb. Rachel stepped back, watching the scene unfold with a predatory gaze. Billy’s eyes followed his mother’s hands as they moved to her nipples, pinching and rolling them until they stood erect and red. Rachel’s voice was a seductive purr as she instructed him to take over. “Make it hard, Billy. Use yur teeth and just bite it if you need,” she said, her eyes never leaving Mrs. Flynn’s face.
Billy felt a mix of fear and excitement as he leaned in, his mouth hovering over one of his mother’s erect nipples. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the scent of her arousal mixing with the stale air of the room. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his tongue trace the sensitive peak before taking it into his mouth. The sensation was strange, the taste of her skin both familiar and foreign. Rachel’s voice was a gentle encouragement in his ear, guiding him as he began to suck, his teeth grazing the tender flesh.
Mrs. Flynn’s hand slid down her body, her fingers finding their way to her clit. She began to rub in slow, deliberate circles as Billy suckled her nipple, the sounds of her pleasure filling the room. Rachel watched with a hungry gaze, her own hand sliding down to her own pussy, her fingers slipping inside as she observed the intimate act. Billy’s hand followed his mother’s, the tips of his fingers sliding through the slick folds of her sex. He felt the heat and the wetness, the softness that made his cock ache with need. Rachel’s voice was a siren’s song, guiding him to explore, to give in to the depravity that was now their reality.
Mrs. Flynn’s body began to tremble, her hips rising off the bed as Billy’s fingers danced over her clit. Rachel’s breath grew heavier, her eyes hooded with lust as she watched the scene unfold. Billy felt a strange mix of pride and fear, knowing that he was the one causing such intense pleasure in his mother’s body. Rachel’s voice grew more insistent, her words a command that he could not refuse. “Bite harder, Billy,” she urged, her own hand moving faster, her hips grinding against her fist. “Show her who’s in charge.”
Mrs. Flynn’s hand tightened on the bedpost, her knuckles white as she arched her back, offering her nipple to Billy’s teeth. He bit down, the sensation of her soft flesh between his teeth sending a jolt of excitement through him. The taste of her skin was intoxicating, and he found himself wanting more. Rachel’s eyes gleamed as she watched, her own hand moving in time with Billy’s rhythm. “That’s it, make her scream, Billy,” she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper. “Her scream will make the audience proud of you.”
Billy’s teeth sank deeper, his tongue swirling around the engorged peak as he felt his mother’s body begin to quiver beneath his touch. His other hand stroked her pussy with more urgency, his fingers sliding through the wetness that had begun to pool around her entrance. The sound of Rachel’s breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The room was thick with the scent of sex and power, a heady mix that made Billy’s head spin.
Mrs. Flynn’s legs began to shake as Billy’s thumb found her clit, her moans growing louder with each pass. Rachel’s eyes never left the intimate dance of flesh, her own hand moving faster as she watched Billy’s fingers explore his mother’s sex. “Good boy,” Rachel murmured, her voice thick with lust. “Make her ready for you.”
Billy’s teeth sunk deeper into his mother’s nipple, the sharp sting of pain mixing with the sweetness of her skin. His other hand grew bolder, his index and middle fingers slipping into her wetness, curling up to find that special spot that made her whimper. Mrs. Flynn’s eyes rolled back in her head, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she succumbed to the building pressure. Rachel’s eyes widened, watching the transformation before her. The proud, defiant woman was now a creature of desire, her body betraying the pleasure that Billy brought her.
“Look at that,” Rachel said, her voice a low purr of satisfaction. “Look at how wet she is for you, Billy.” Rachel’s hand slid down to her own sex, her fingers slipping through her slick folds, mimicking the motion of Billy’s hand on his mother’s pussy. “You’re doing it,” Rachel said, her voice filled with a strange mix of pride and hunger. “You’re making her pussy ready for you.”
Billy’s eyes snapped open at Rachel’s words, the reality of the situation crashing over him like a wave. Rachel’s hand moved away from her own sex and reached for Mrs. Flynn’s leg, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she spoke. “Later on stage, you have to spread her legs wider, Billy, and spread her pussy wide,” Rachel instructed, her voice firm. “It will show everyone how eager she is.”
Mrs. Flynn’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Billy’s gaze with a mix of pain and acceptance. Rachel leaned in, her breath hot against Billy’s ear. “You have to make sure they see it all,” she whispered, her voice a seductive hiss. “When your mom precum leaks out, just spread wide and let the audience saw her pussy. It’s a sign of her readiness, a promise of what’s to come.” Rachel’s words painted a vivid picture in Billy’s mind, one that made his cock throb with anticipation.
Rachel’s hand slid away from Mrs. Flynn’s leg, leaving a red imprint. “After you show them her readiness, Billy,” she said, her eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. “You can fuck her pussy as much as they want. It’s your chance to get reward if the job well done.” The thought of plunging into his mother’s wetness, the very same pussy that had been the talk of the town, filled Billy with a mix of revulsion and lust. Rachel’s voice was a siren’s call, urging him to embrace the depravity that had become their lives.
Billy nodded, his resolve solidifying with each beat of his racing heart. He knew now what he had to do on that stage tonight. Rachel’s instructions echoed in his mind as he slid his cock out of his pants, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air. Mrs. Flynn looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and resignation. Rachel’s hand was on Billy’s shoulder, guiding him towards his mother’s waiting body.
With a deep breath, Billy positioned himself behind his mother, his cock poised at her entrance. Rachel’s hand slid away, leaving him to find his own rhythm. He pushed in, feeling the tight warmth of her pussy envelop him, the reality of the act hitting him like a sledgehammer. Rachel’s eyes never left the scene, watching intently as Billy began to thrust, his hips moving with a desperate, almost animalistic need. Mrs. Flynn’s body rocked with each motion, her moans growing louder with each stroke.
“Take your time, Billy,” Rachel cooed from the side of the bed. “This isn’t a race, it’s an art.” Her eyes were hooded with desire as she watched the two figures, their bodies moving in a dance that was both beautiful and disturbing. “The audience wants to see you savor her, to feel every inch of her pussy around your cock.” Rachel’s voice was a gentle guide, a siren’s song that urged him to embrace the depravity of their world.
Billy felt the heat of Rachel’s gaze, the weight of her expectations pressing down on him as he began to move slower, his strokes more deliberate. Mrs. Flynn’s body responded to the new rhythm, her hips rocking back to meet him, her moans growing more intense with each push forward. Rachel’s hand slid up to cup Mrs. Flynn’s chin, tilting her face towards Billy’s as he fucked her. “Look at your son,” Rachel whispered, her eyes never leaving Billy’s. “Look at the man he’s become.”
Rachel’s eyes met Billy’s in the mirror, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “You don’t have to kiss her mouth, Billy,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “You can kiss her where it really counts.” Rachel’s hand slid down to Mrs. Flynn’s breasts, cupping one in her hand, offering it up to Billy. “Her tits, Billy. Kiss them, bite them, make her scream for the audience.” Rachel’s words were a revelation, a twisted form of encouragement that resonated within him.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.