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Any pretense of him oscillating his hips were now gone…he was just pounding, hard and long strokes as deep as he could into her.She was back to gulping air, her fingers digging into Mark’s shoulder. He definitely did not care.Just a few strokes later, could have been more but my own orgasm washed over me, a unfiltered screech came from her mouth as she arched her back at the same time my son arched his and growled grunts in conjunction with each spasm of his tightening ass cheeks.I came with the thought of each jettison of that man gunk spraying the inside of my womanhood.Their uncoupling was as if in slow motion, the woman dropping her suspended legs back into the surf. My son’s, still swollen, but semi flaccid, cock plopping out from between her thighs…a glistening string of goo reflecting in the bright sun.The woman saw me; a smile broke across her face. She reached down and held my son’s still ample cock as if offering it to me.Mark turned his head in the direction her attention,. I must have looked very pale to her. She had the most amazing odor, a light airy scent that floated over her, and a deeper, musky odor; I couldn't, at that time, identify.When I make no reply to her offer of conversation she leans over and kisses me. No woman had ever kissed me before. I had kissed girls. I was good at kissing girls and they liked to kiss me. Kissing Mrs. Ruth was like being sent into the game for DiMaggio, you knew the crowd wouldn't like you, and it was certain you would strike out. This woman was the reason the backyard outhouse had one wall painted white. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, I realized her hand was sitting on my thigh, just inches from my cock. I was dead. I knew the Boss was going to come through that door in any second. He would look around and see us, and calmly walk over to the gun rack, and find the biggest gun there and put a bullet through my head.At the same time as the kiss drew out her hand crept closer to my cock, I came to the.
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