Chapter 1

Copyright© 2008 by DG Hear

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - In my recent story,'Returning Home' there was a character named Bear, an Ex-Biker. Readers wanted to know more about Bear. This is his story. It's in two Chapters. Lots of categories.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Cheating   Slut Wife   Cuckold   Swinging   Squirting  

I can hardly believe that people are interested in the life of an old biker, but here it goes. Don't expect this to be some romantic love story. I'm going to tell you how it was for me growing up. If you're not interested in fights, sex and a bad attitude, you might want to leave now. I'm not apologizing for my life. I'm just telling you how it is.

I'll admit that I wasn't the most likeable guy and by all means not a role model. I think you'll understand my attitude, even though you may not agree with it, after hearing my story.

I was born a bastard. My mother who I have always loved raised me. I know she did her best but I was a troubled kid and a troublesome teenager. Life just started bad for me.

My mom was a waitress/barmaid and worked hard to support herself. She dated and ended up pregnant. One man was special to her. When I got older she explained her story to me.

He was a salesman from Indiana that came through Ohio pretty regular. Mom had dated him quite a few times. When she got pregnant and told him about it, he tried to deny it. He said she wasn't going to blame her pregnancy on him. Come to find out, he was already married and had two kids. Mom said it really hurt her because she cared for this man.

Mom was furious and went to a lawyer. After I was born, she had a DNA test done on me. They used evidence from a hairbrush and toothbrush he used when he visited her. The lawyer took him to court and mom won. He had to pay child support for the next eighteen years and any medical bills I incurred. All that my father was to me was a sperm donor.

Mom named me Milton Wesley Blake the Second, after my father. I think she did it more to embarrass him than anything. Of course, with a name like Milton I got into lots of fights. I was a big kid though and able to take care of myself.

My dad, or sperm donor as I call him, was never part of my life. As a kid, I think I saw him maybe once a year when he came into town. He did pay his support but didn't want anything to do with me. If he came to town more often, it wouldn't be something she would have told me. She knew I despised him.

We started out living with my grandparents but they always got into arguments with mom about her going out and leaving me with them. I don't think they much cared for me either. When I was about seven, mom and I moved into an apartment near the lounge where she worked. She left me with some of the older people in the apartment while she worked.

They just let me do what I wanted. All they cared about was the few bucks that mom gave them to watch me. I ate at the back of the lounge for most of my dinners. Then I headed up to the apartment and waited for mom to get off work. Sometimes, she would be really late so I figured she was out on dates. She never did bring any men up to the apartment, though.

I ran the streets most of my childhood life. I wasn't very good in school and got expelled many times for fighting. Sometimes, it was because other kids laughed at my name; other times it was because kids called my mom a whore or a prostitute. I would beat up anyone who talked bad about my mom.

She wasn't a whore. I'll be the first to admit she was rather loose and dated a lot but no kid was going to get away with making fun of my mom. She could expect to come to the school at least every couple of months due to my fighting. This went on right into high school.

I was really big for my age and some of the older teenagers thought they could bully me around. Bill Jenkens, a senior, called my mom a slut and I beat him to a pulp. I was only sixteen at the time. He said he saw his dad fucking my mom. I couldn't let that go and I beat him till three other seniors pulled me off him. I would have killed him otherwise.

The principal expelled me for the remainder of the year. I never did go back. I got a job at a gas station that also repaired vehicles. I started out working the pumps but little by little, I learned how to do small repair jobs. I started with oil changes and lube jobs and then Jake, the owner kind of took me under his wing and started showing me engine repair.

It was then that I became interested in motorcycles. Jake rode a big hog and there was a lot of biker business that he got in for repairs. I worked after hours learning to help repair bikes. It came so easy to me. I started saving my money to by myself a bike. Jake helped me find a wrecked one for a few hundred dollars and then I put another five hundred in it to get it working properly.

When I turned nineteen, I joined a biker club. It was a branch of a well-known club. We had around sixty active members in it. Whenever we traveled, we had at least thirty that showed up for the trip. Even though I was one of the youngest, I was also one of the biggest. We hung out in our own lair. It was next to one of the local biker bars.

It was something how girls and women would come in to see us and hang around. Sex was as plentiful as it could be. Some of the bikers had their old ladies and would even share them. Then there were the women who just wanted to ride with us. They would fuck any of us when asked.

I want to say up front that no matter what you ever heard about bikers that I have never raped or taken a woman without her consent. I'll admit that a few had remorse and tried to say they were raped afterwards but no one ever went to jail for it.

One husband tried to have me arrested for raping his wife. She must have told him that when she went home with her pussy covered with cum and no panties. Three days later, she was back for more. One of the bikers called her old man and he came down to the den and saw her fucking some dude. After that, he dropped the charges.

Let me tell you about a few of the runs we made when I was first starting out. We would go to college towns and I guess it looked impressive with thirty or so bikers riding in to town. These young college girls would come up to us, tell us about the parties going on, and invite us.

So hard to understand why these young fillies would want some old dirty bikers instead of the college guys. I guess it was their way of being bad. We would go to these parties and many of the clubs didn't want us there but were afraid to face us. We actually paid our money and went in. We weren't there to cause trouble but to have sex and enjoy the parties.

I fucked some prime young pussy at these parties. It was nothing for these girls to take on two or even three of us at a time. My dick has fucked and been sucked by more college girls than I can count. There's nothing like having your dick sucked by some pretty young thing and then sticking it to her till she comes.

Almost every party has a fight or two break out. It's usually some college athlete who has had too much to drink and wants to take on a biker. Usually it was me, since I was the biggest. Most fights only lasted a few seconds with me knocking the cocksucker on his ass. If it turned into a brawl, which it often did, we beat the fuck out of them, fucked their women and went on our way.

God, I can picture some of those young fillies riding my fucking cock while I held onto her ass. Damn, that was some good stuff. I often wonder where those gals are today. Probably mothers, secretaries, doctors, lawyers and God knows what else. I can hear them telling their kids and husbands what great students they were in college. Those were the days.

We never attended the parties at the same college more than once. We usually left behind too much of a mess. Besides, we were always looking for something new.

Beach parties were another favorite of ours. We'd often camp out the whole night and party on down. Usually some stray girls came over to party with us. Hell, they were already in bathing suits and we'd just do them right there on the beach or in our camp. There were all kinds of women at these beach parties. Pussy was pussy in my book. Age, size or race made no difference to me.

It was surprising that the Asian women would be able to take such big cocks. Most of these girls were short and tiny, but they sure could use their pussies. I could lie on my back and let them ride all night. It was funny listening to them screaming out in different languages. Fuck me is easy to understand in about any language. Damn, we had some great times.

As I got older, I let my hair grow and had a beard. One of my buddies said I looked like a bear and everyone started calling me that. I only let my friends call me that, though. Anyone else had to call me Milton. If they laughed, they were in deep shit. I expected respect and got it because of my size and attitude.

Mom was the only woman I ever cared for. I gave her some money that I had been saving up. Using it with some of her own money, she bought a trailer out in the country for us. It had some acreage with it where we planted a garden and I built her a front porch to sit on and enjoy. She still worked at the lounge but only did the bartending. I have to say that the main thing in life that I regret was making my mother cry. It would tear me apart on the inside. She was the last person I'd ever want to hurt in anyway.

I would be gone days at a time but I would call her to make sure she was all right. She was a little older now and had some girl friends she hung out with sometimes. They were all divorced or widowed women who went out once in awhile and often played cards. It was good to see mom enjoying a little bit of life because she sure the hell had earned it.

When I wasn't working on bikes I hung out at the den. We would go in the bar and play pool and some of the other games. Usually we had a few of the biker girls in there with us. It was always good to see fresh meat come in. I can't tell you how many times some married women would come in and act surprised to see mostly bikers in there. Who were they kidding?

What the hell did they expect to find inside with thirty bikes or so in front of the joint. We knew what they wanted and they usually got it. We'd buy them some drinks and then take them next door to the den and fuck them. I loved fucking married broads. We knew we were getting things their husbands never did. They'd suck our cocks and we would double team most of them. For some strange reason they wanted to be degraded. I can't say why but we would give them whatever they wanted.

I fucked more than one in the ass. I wasn't really big on ass fucking because it hurt my dick. I preferred a hot wet pussy to an ass anytime. One time we actually had a pissing contest. We'd done it more than once but I want to explain exactly what it was.

We had these two married women who wanted to try something different. We kept giving them beer until they had to piss. We made them hold it in and after they stripped, we started rubbing their pussy. We told them we wanted to see which one could hold back from pissing the longest. We were finger fucking them and rubbing their clit at the same time. All of a sudden, they would orgasm and their bladder would let loose. Here were two married women pissing across the room. Damn that was fun to take part in and watch some guys wife letting herself go like that.

It might not have been legal be we actually had video cameras filming any action that took place in the den. If any woman yelled rape, we had the proof on tape. We never had to use the tapes because if anyone accused us of something we knew we could just play it for the woman and that should do the trick. No one knew they were being filmed but we had a hell of a collection to watch if we ever got bored.

Not everything in my life was enjoyable sex. Three different times someone stabbed me and a dude shot me once. They were all with either street gangs who wanted to take us on or other biker groups who didn't want us riding through their territory.

After each stabbing, I had to spend at least a day or so in the hospital. When I was shot in the side, I was in the hospital for three days. It scared my mom half to death. Damn, I hated making her worry but that's just how my life was.

I also spent a few nights in jails when we were caught disturbing the peace. Another bad habit I had was smoking weed. Usually it made me mellow out but once in awhile it seemed to have the opposite affect.

I got into a fight with some asshole trying to put the make on my mom after following her home. I was nearly thirty at the time. I arrived home and mom was outside telling the asshole to leave her alone because she had no interest in him. He was intoxicated and wasn't listening.

I had just smoked a little weed and still had a couple of packets in my pocket. I approached the asshole and told him to get lost.

"Get the fuck out of here or pay the price," I told him.

"Are you going to fuck the slut?" he asked.

I reached out and hit him over and over. No asshole called my mom a slut. I beat him to within an inch of his life. A passerby had called the cops who arrested me and sent the prick to the hospital. Mom tried to explain that the man had bothered her.

"Ms. Baxter, you could have just went in the house or called the police yourself. This all happened outside and your son nearly killed the man. Also, we found a substance in his pocket which we believe to be marijuana."

Again, my mother was crying as they put me in the cruiser. Eventually the court found me guilty of assault and in possession of a controlled substance. Because of my previous arrest, I ended up with a sentence of eighteen months in prison.

Before I tell you a little about my prison life, I want to mention that mom never spoke badly of my biker friends. Many of them called her mom and ate dinner with us. They told me that they'd take care of her while I was away.

In prison, I had to prove myself just as I had to do everywhere else. Why these guys wanted to mess with me I really don't know. I was almost six and a half feet tall and weighed in at nearly three hundred pounds.

My first day in with the general population some asshole came up to me in the dinner line and told me I was going to be his bitch. Without even looking at him, I caught him hard with an elbow to the side of his face. He went down; I know I dislocated his jaw. Taking my plastic tray, I hit him square across the face breaking his nose. I kicked him several times until the guards hit me with clubs and pulled me away from the bastard.

I got a week in solitary confinement, which was all right with me. When I got out of there, a number of ex bikers greeted me. I was now part of a group. I still had fights regularly but at least I wasn't alone. The bastard that I had hit was still in the prison hospital when I was out of confinement.

I never had a problem with him or his group members for quite awhile. I did get another six months tacked on to my sentence since they said I started the fight.

I also got a prison job working on vehicles after the warden found out I was a mechanic. I did my best to stay out of trouble but it had its way of finding me. I never started another fight but I ended most of them. I was known as the guy not to fuck with. Still, some guys always thought since they were bigger or meaner that they might be badder.

I had about six months to go when a group started a fight with the bikers. Somebody stabbed me twice with a shiv and I ended up in the prison hospital for two weeks. While being laid up I did a lot of thinking. I was just getting too old for this shit. I made a mental decision that when I got out of prison that I was going to try turning things around and get a life.

I couldn't believe it when the warden told me I would be getting out two months early. It had something to do with over-population and that I'd paid my debt to society. Mom couldn't have been happier. A couple of biker friends brought her to pick me up at the prison. It was so good to see her smiling face.

I had a talk with Jake at the cycle shop and he told me he was getting too old and was thinking of retiring. I still had a few bucks saved up and gave it as a down payment on the shop. I would pay Jake so much a month till I paid off the business. It gave him a decent income along with his social security and helped me buy my own business.

I was now the owner of the cycle repair shop. I called it Bears Bike and Cycle Repair. I had one employee that worked for Jake in my absence; his name was Ralph and he was a young man learning the cycle repair business. We got rid of the gas pumps seeing there was a lot of expense but not much profit. Most of our business was cycles and bikes and they didn't use much gas. We did do a number of vehicle repairs for customers also. We just specialized in bikes.

I would work most of the day at the shop then go across the street and have a few brews at Ray's Bar. At one time, it was a pretty heavy hangout for bikers. There were still quite a few coming in but nothing like the old days. It was fine with me because I was pretty much a loner. I hung at the bar with a few guys but I didn't travel with them anymore.

One night I was sitting there when a female friend came in. I'd had sex with her a number of times and we were sitting there playing a little grab ass when four bikers came in and started up with me. Apparently, she had broken up with one of these guys and he wasn't over her yet.

After a little pushing and shoving, Ray the owner told us to take it outside of his bar. I got up and headed out the back door to the parking lot. Many scores ended up settled out there. I expected a fair fight but before I knew it, two assholes jumped on my back. The guy in front of me hit me in the stomach. I asked myself, "What the fuck happened to bikers honor?"

I figured I was in deep shit till some young kid came out with a pool stick swinging at the two assholes like a maniac. He was with Ray, the bar owners nephew. I've seen Ryan in the bar a number of times, but have never seen this other guy. Ryan and this young kid beat the fuck out of the two assholes that were on my back.

It let my arms free and I hit the guy who had hit me in the stomach. Down he went and the ringleader came at me with a knife. I grabbed his arm, elbowed him in the jaw, and then beat the fuck out of him.

About that time the police came and I figured I was in big trouble but Ray the bar owner came to my rescue and told the cops what went down. They questioned me and the other witnesses then we all went back into the bar. They took the two bikers to the hospital and the other two had run off.

I thanked this young guy whose name I later found out was Jessie and told him if he ever needed a favor to give me a call. He mentioned that he was leaving for boot camp the next day but thanked me for the offer. I also thanked Ryan who ended up being a good friend of mine even though we ran in different circles.

I saw Jessie about seven weeks later and took him out for a piece of ass as a going away present. I called a couple of older women who I knew would treat him right. I have a feeling he had his first ever blowjob and three-way that night. These women did a number on him. The young stud must have come at least three times. He thanked me over and over again for the good time. I told him to look me up after he served his tour of duty. It was six years later before I saw him again.

Meanwhile I went about my business. Ralph turned out to be a big asset. Business was so good I hired another employee. Life wasn't too bad. Plenty of money and got laid just about anytime I wanted. Some of these women just couldn't get enough. I still made it with divorced and married women now. Most were in their mid to late thirties.

I spent most evenings at home with mom. She never minded if I had a friend or two over for dinner and a few beers. I think she just liked having me around.

She started going to church regularly. She never pressed it on me but did say it made her feel better. She just wanted to get right with God and often thanked him for taking care of me. That's just the kind of woman she was.

She had smoked too much and developed a lung problem. She would cough and had trouble breathing. I took her to the doctor and he said she had cancer and there was no reason to cut her open. It would just spread; he said she had less than four months.

I cried like a big baby. She was the only woman I ever loved. I came home every night and stayed with her. Three months later she died. She had told me that everything would be all right. She was going home to be with the Lord and she would never be in pain again.

I called her minister and told him I had no idea what I should do. I'd never buried anyone before but I wanted the best for my mom. He told me not to worry because the church would handle taking care of the funeral and services. I did tell him that mom carried a five thousand dollar life insurance policy and if that wasn't enough that I would see it was paid for.

He was a good man and he and the men and women of his church helped me out. Mom's service was beautiful. She did look at rest and like she was just sleeping. Her friends started coming in to see her. I didn't know she had so many friends. Many I recognized and others I met for the first time. So many people came that used to go into the bar. I cleaned up a little but I think I surprised a lot of people.

I didn't look like the typical son you would have expected for such a nice caring woman. We had visiting hours one night and the next day up to the time of services. I couldn't believe how many lives my dear mom had touched.

Outside of the church, we heard a loud rumble. I looked out and saw a long line of bikers all coming to pay their respects to my mom. It brought tears to my eyes seeing all these men, some with their women all coming into the church.

The funeral procession to the cemetery had a large number of vehicles but what was more exciting was to see seventy-six bikes riding two abreast following the vehicles. The minister told me that they had a basket for cards and donations and gave it to me. Almost every card had some money in it. I asked the ladies of the church if they would help me send thank you cards to those with addresses. So many people sent baskets of flowers. My mom loved flowers.

I had more than enough money to pay for the funeral and services. I also got my mom a nice headstone. The rest of the money I donated to the church. I wanted to mention that the church supplied a nice buffet dinner for all those attending the funeral services. Mom had really met some nice people. Most didn't judge me or my biker friends.

Life went on but it wasn't quite the same without coming home and seeing my mother and having dinner with her. I tried to keep the trailer and property as nice as my mom left it. I did spend more time eating out.

One day I looked through the sympathy cards again and realized that there wasn't one from my so-called birth father. I knew he stopped in a couple of times a year when I wasn't home. Mom had told me so. I looked through mom's personal papers until I found his address and decided it was about time I paid him a visit. I had never been to his place. I really had no love for this man at all but the least he could have done was give my mom some flowers.

I figured I would have a four-hour bike ride to where he lived. I told Ralph to handle things while I was gone since it might be a day or so. I didn't know what I was going to say when I saw this sperm donor dad of mine but I was paying him a visit anyway.

According to the information mom had on him, he was married again. He had been married and divorced twice. He had gotten married a third time last year. He wife's name was Lilith. I had no idea why he and mom kept in touch. Maybe she did have some kind of feelings for him. I really didn't know. Up to the time when I turned eighteen, I knew it was because of the support checks and medical bills.

I arrived in the city and looked for his house. I stopped at the post office and they directed me to the suburbs. It was a really nice looking house sitting on about an acre of ground. I guess the old man had some money after all. I knew I never saw any of it. I doubt mom did either.

I pulled in the drive and knocked on the door.

I knocked a second time and a young woman opened the door. It surprised me and I thought I might be at the wrong house.

"Yes, can I help you?" asked the woman. She seemed taken back with my looks and size.

"I'm sorry; I must be at the wrong house. I'm looking for Milton Blake," I answered.

"This is the right house. I'm Mrs. Blake. What do you want with my husband?" She asked with a rather disturbed look.

"I wanted to talk to him about my mother."

"Oh my God, you're his bastar— I mean his other son, aren't you?" She looked nervously at me.

"Yeah, I'm his so called bastard son, just like you said. I wanted to ask him why he never sent my mom flowers or a least a sympathy card."

"You're mom passed away? I'm so sorry, I don't think Milton even knew. I'm sure he would have paid his respects otherwise."

"Mind if I come in for a few minutes? I've been riding the bike for the last four hours."

"Oh God, Milton said if you should ever come here when he wasn't home that I shouldn't let you in."

What a stupid fucking old man. Damn, I hated him. I just shook my head. She looked at me and maybe she felt a bit sorry for me, I don't really know, but she opened the door and asked me in for a few minutes.

"Come on in and rest for a little bit. If you ever see Milton, please don't tell him I let you in. He'd really get mad. What should I call you? It seems so weird calling you Milton, too. Besides, you don't look like a Milton."

"Just call me Bear. I picked up the nickname quite a few years ago," I said as I stood in the living room.

"You can call me Lil, it's short for Lilith. Would you like something to drink?"

I was getting my first good look at Lil as she pulled her robe closed. She still had on red baby doll pajamas. I was staring at her and she knew it. She had a nice body with a good figure and looked maybe around thirty. I had to wonder why she hooked up with the old man.

"I'll have a beer if you have any," I said.

She went to get the beer and I followed. The place had to be worth some bucks, I decided. I noticed both a pool and hot tub through the window. It was obvious I scared her by the look on her face when she turned to see me within a few feet of her.

"Nice place," I said.

She handed me a beer and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Do you always drink beer this early in the morning?" she asked.

I laughed. "Sweetheart, it's almost noon and I've been up quite a few hours, but yes I drink beer most anytime."

We went and sat down in the living room. As she sat down her robe opened showing me her legs. She saw me staring and didn't make much effort to cover them.

"So, are you a late sleeper or have a rough night?" I asked.

"I worked last night. I dance part-time at the club around the corner and just got up a little bit ago."

"Explains the nice legs," I said to her. "So how did you and dear old dad get together?"

She still didn't cover her legs. "Your dad, I mean Milton, came in the club a lot and we became friends. He kept asking me out and after a few months, I accepted. A few months later we got married."

"I see what dad got out of the deal, but what about you? An older man married and divorced twice. Two kids older than you, or me for that fact, and a kid he calls a bastard kid, that would be me."

"Look Milton, I mean Bear. I was married once and it was a bad relationship. I had nothing and then I met your dad. He's a nice man and treats me good. I can have most anything I want."

"What about love, do you love him?"

"Love is an odd word. In a sense, we love in our own ways. Even though we are years apart in age, we are compatible."

"What does that mean? Compatible."

"We both get what we want out of this marriage."

"So, is there a pre-nup involved? I'm sure dad's other kids aren't happy with this relationship."

"I don't know why I'm telling you anything. Your father hates you even though I think he loved your mother. He despised the idea of having you. He told me that he'd asked your mother to marry him after his first divorce but she laughed in his face. She told him that she had her son and didn't need a cheating man. He holds you responsible for her not marrying him."

Damn, I never knew that. The old man actually asked mom to get married and she turned him down.

"So what about you and his other two kids? Friends or enemies of yours."

"They don't care much about me or my work. They just don't understand their father or me. If I ever left him or him me, I am taken care of; he has things in place in case either of us leave so I'll be fine. The same goes for when he dies. His kids and I will share the assets. I'm sorry to say he did not include you," she said looking rather sad at me.

"No big surprise Lil, I never liked him and he never cared for me. I never wanted or expected anything from him till now."

"I don't understand. What does he have that you want now?"

I put my hand on her leg above her knee and slowly slid it upwards. She looked at me not knowing how to react, yet not stopping me.

"I want you," I said.

"I ... I ... I don't know what to say. If your dad finds out, he'll ... God I don't know what he'd do. He hates you so much. Anyone else I could probably get by telling him about but not you."

"So, you and dad do a little swinging on the side, is that it? He'll let you fuck anyone but good old Milton Jr.," I said with a sneer.

"Bear, my relationship with your dad is between me and him. I'm not going to justify our lifestyle to you."

"Lil, I'm going to fuck you. If you ask me to stop I will but I think you want it as bad as I do," I said as I slipped my hand up to her panty-covered pussy. "Stand up here in front of me."

She did it but said, "Please Bear, I beg you not to tell your father."

She didn't tell me not to stop, just not tell my old man who I never saw anyway. As she stood in front of me, I grabbed and squeezed her pussy, using my whole hand until I felt her pussy getting wet through her pajama panties. She was getting weak in the knees as I continued the motion.

I've been with many women just like her. Most married women I've been with acted the same way. The only difference here was getting revenge on the old man. Even if he didn't know, I didn't care. Just fucking his wife was good enough for me.

I kept playing with her pussy and set her down next to me on the couch. She was somewhat of a submissive doing whatever I asked her. "Open your robe and let me see your breasts," I said.

She opened it and looked at me for approval. Her top was red but somewhat see-through.

"Very nice," I said as I took my hand off her wet pussy and lightly pinched her tits. She was loving it.

"Bear, I'll do whatever you want but promise me you'll never tell your father. You must promise me. I know you're probably doing it for revenge but I don't want him to know."

"Sure Mom," I said to her. After all, she was my stepmother. "I promise I won't tell Dad that I fucked the hell out of his wife. When is he due home?"

"Not until tomorrow afternoon but you can't stay here; you must leave in a little while."

I smiled at her as I got on my knees between her legs and ripped off her pajama panties. I spread her legs and buried my face into her pussy. She had a small patch of brown hair that I rubbed against my face. With my beard rubbing all over her pussy, she was ecstatic and made lots of noises.

I was going to give her the full treatment that I didn't give many women. I wanted to be the best fuck she'd ever had. For a swinger, it would take some work but I was up for it.

I tongue-fucked her while she kept crying out, "more, more, fuck it feels so good."

She had both hands around my head pulling me tighter against her. Damn, she was one hot little number. I could feel her coming all over my beard. I kept tonguing her till I felt her orgasm subside. I pulled my tongue out of her pussy and started kissing her with her juices all over my beard. She didn't hesitate returning my kisses. She was one hot mama.

I stood and picked her up like a little doll then asked the way to the master bedroom. Once in there I told her to strip which she did while smiling. As I said, I was a big man and when I took off my shirt, she kissed my chest and even gently massaged my nipples. I dropped my pants and she sat down on the bed and took my cock into her mouth.

She was good. She held my cock close to its head so she wouldn't choke and gave it a good tongue washing. I told her it was time to put my cock in her cunt. She liked the dirty talk. She got in the middle of the bed and I spread her legs and mounted her. I kept my body upright and held on to her legs while I pounded my cock into her wet pussy.

I could feel her coming again. She was screaming for more as I pumped faster listening to her shrieks.

"So fucking good, I need more, please give me more." She yelled it out and came again.

I turned her over like a rag doll and pulled her ass up in the air until I could put my cock back into her very wet pussy. I pushed it in fast and deep with her shoving her ass back for more. She had to be one of the horniest women I'd ever been with. She couldn't get enough. No wonder the old man loved her.

I knew I was close to exploding so I pushed in hard and held her ass against me so I was as deep as I could possibly be. I came in long squirts, with her screaming out how much she loved it with each one. I felt her pussy spasm time and time again.

I looked over at the clock and we had been at it for over an hour. Sweat dripped from both of us. I pulled my now somewhat soft cock out of her. She told me she felt so empty. I lifted her up and carried her through the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To that hot tub of yours. I think it would be good for both of us," I laughed as I walked out to the hot tub and set her in it.

After I climbed in I stretched out and she came over and sat on my lap. We spent almost another hour in the tub. She listened to me talk about my past while I rubbed her tits and pussy.

She told me that she would have to get out because she had to pee.

"Sit on the side and piss in the tub. I don't mind. In fact I'd like to watch you," I laughed.

"God no, I couldn't do such a thing. If Milton knew I'd peed in the hot tub he'd probably gross out," she said while smiling at me.

I picked her up and set her on the side of the tub then spread her legs. "Pee for me, Mom."

"No, Bear, I can't," she said but kept laughing.

I reached down to start fingering her and started rubbing her clit with my thumb. "Come on Lil, let's see you pee." I pumped faster as I spoke watching her trying to hold back.

"God, Bear, I can't hold back much longer. Oh God, I can't hold it in, I just can't," she said as her bladder broke loose and she was peeing hard as the hot fluid gushed out of her. I pulled my hand away while she emptied herself. She must have pissed for half a minute or longer.

What ever cum she had left in her came out as well. She told me she had never felt anything like that ever. I had reached my goal of fucking the old man's young wife.

I told her that I hoped she had a good filtering system in the hot tub. It had a lot of work to do with the mess that she'd made. We got out of the tub and I toweled her off before we walked back into the house. She told me she was exhausted from our workout and we went back into her bedroom. I closed the blinds and told her we both needed a rest.

We both fell asleep. It was hours later when we woke up to the ringing of the phone. Lil answered it. It was her old man, Milton. She put her finger to her lips for me to be quiet. I thought about yelling out but even though I despised the bastard, I liked Lil. Why ruin it for her?

I only heard half the conversation. "Yes, Honey, I was just resting. No, I don't work tonight. Probably I'll just watch my soaps and get to bed early. For some reason, I'm really tired today." Each sentence had a bit of silence between it where it was obvious the old man was doing the talking.

"Honey, I should tell you that your son Milton stopped by. No, I didn't let him in, he was pissed."

Her side of the conversation went on as I laid back. She explained how I'd stopped in but the she hadn't let me in since I appeared angry. After a brief pause, she told him that mother had died and I wanted to know why he hadn't paid his respects. I figured he must have been talking when she stayed quiet for a while before pointing out we'd stayed outside for a few minutes before I left.

I grinned when she told him I was big with a shaggy beard and motorcycle. She went on to tell him I was scary looking like the bikers from the Hell's Angel movie. Her hand played with the sheet as she said of course I hadn't tried anything with her. A light blush stained her cheeks as she said she'd show him tomorrow how much she missed him. She told him she loved him and hung up before looking at me.

"Bear, thank you for not giving away that you were here. Maybe you'd better leave now."

"Leave? You have to be kidding. We can be together the whole night. I want you every way possible. Right now, I think we need to eat something. Have you got anything in the fridge?"

"Bear, you can't stay. I can't take the chance of someone finding you here."

"Lil, the old man won't be home till tomorrow afternoon. I'll leave first thing in the morning and I'll put my bike in your garage for tonight. You have caller ID so don't answer the phone to anyone who you think might want to come over. Milton already checked on you and I don't think his kids will be calling. Come on, this is a one-time thing here. Let's make the most of it and I promise I'll be gone first thing in the morning."

I didn't wait for an answer as I slipped my pants and shirt on to go move my bike into her garage. When I came in, she had slipped her robe on and was looking it the refrigerator.

"Bear, I'm not much of a cook. About all we have are eggs."

"It's okay Lil, I can cook you up an omelet. Mom was a hell of a good cook and showed me a lot."

I made a couple of omelets using whatever I could find. We had toast and hash browns with it. Lil told me she had never met anyone like me. I had to admit to her that I wasn't a normal kind of guy.

After we ate, we went and watched her soaps that she had taped. I fingered her during a couple of episodes and fucked her after that. She sat on the floor in front of me and I started rubbing her shoulders. She was so soft and warm. It wasn't long before we turned off the tv and went back into the bedroom where I continued to rub her whole body.

She was on her stomach so I could rub her ass and soon she spread her legs. Her pussy was soaking wet. I told her this time she was going to have to do the work as I laid down on my back and she mounted me. It was something with her bracing herself with her hands on my chest and riding my hard cock. I loved watching her juices run down my cock every time she went in an upward motion.

We had sex throughout the night and the last time I took her anally. We went very slowly but it felt good and soon I came deep in her ass. Even though I'm not big on ass fucking, she was good.

I woke up early the next morning and took a shower. I got dressed and left before she even woke up. I have to say that overall, I was very glad I went to see the old man.

After going home, I often thought of Lil. Mind you, I didn't love her but I often wondered about being with one woman. Of course, Lil said that she and the old man did some light swinging. It was always on the old mans terms so I could imagine what would happen if she told him about me. He'd shit a brick.

Business was good and I was back in my routine. I worked and usually went out for dinner and then went over to Ray's for a few beers and maybe a piece of ass. The fucking wasn't as important to me anymore. Don't get me wrong here, I love it but I didn't have to have it everyday.

I got a call from the funeral director. He told me that a man had stopped by and inquired about mom's grave. I went out there and sure enough, there was a basket of flowers from Milton. The card just said, "I'll miss you, love Milton."

Milton had asked the funeral director if there was enough money to pay for her funeral. He told me that when the old man heard that there were more than enough donations and that I gave the remainder to the church, he actually had a tear in his eye. Son of a bitch, I thought; the old man really did have feelings for mom. I figured it was his lifestyle that mom wouldn't agree to.

Milton donated another thousand dollars to the church in honor of my mom. I have to say that made me feel good. I still didn't care for the bastard but it was good to know that he held feelings for mom.

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