Jasons and the Johnsons

Jason sighed at the sight and feel of her little, feminine hand on his staff. His instinctive reaction was to close his eyes and drop back his head in pleasure, but there would be no way that Mrs. Johnson would consider that to be studying. He once again looked outside.

Mrs. Johnson was already looking at him and caught his eye as soon as he turned his head. This time he seemed to have a rather silly grin on his face. She thought, 'The little scamp is trying to get a peek at my breasts.' She smiled up at him and pretended to brush off some dirt from her t-shirt. What she was doing instead was playing with her nipple, which further stiffened. She hoped he could see it all the way from the upstairs window. She looked away from him, leaned back and thrust out her chest, pretending to be stretching her tired muscles. She then looked back at him, catching him staring at her breasts. He quickly turned away. She decided to have a little more innocent fun. She turned around and used her gardening shear to start a tear in the t-shirt, right above her left nipple.

When the nipple was exposed she played with a bit, getting it nice and perky, thinking of the dream she had of Jason. She didn't feel that enough of her nipple was showing though, as the window was quite far away, so she tore the t-shirt a bit more. Now her breast poked right out and a significant proportion would fall right through when she bent over. Now Jason won't want to leave the window.

She turned back around to pull more weeds. As she did she glanced up to the window. Jason wasn't looking out. But, she would be patient. He didn't seem to stay away too long.

Jason's mind was on something else. He was looking at Bridget's hand sliding up and down his shaft. His sweet little Bridget was jerking him off. He had not been expecting that when he had come to her house, not for a long time in the future had he expected this.

She smiled up at him. "Am I doing it ok, Pookie?"

"You're doing great, Bridget," he replied, somewhat breathlessly.

"Goodie," she replied. "It feels neat in my hand, Pookie. Your stiffie, like, it's so hard, but, you know, the top part, here," she tapped the head of his cock with the fingers of her left hand, "it's all kind of soft like." She circled her fingers around and around the head, feeling the soft curves of the swollen bulb. She ran her finger underneath and along the corona.

She was surprised at how much she was enjoying this. It was kind of exciting to be holding onto, to be playing with, an erect penis. She thought, 'How silly it was to wait this long.' She leaned down toward it. She wanted to see what it smelled like. She sniffed the bulb. It seemed to have a sort of musky, masculine smell, but also some kind of tangy scent. It was perhaps some of Jason's pre-cum. She rubbed the soft head with her perky nose. "I'm giving it an eskimo kiss." She giggled at her joke.

She lingered there for awhile, resting her nose against the head. She then turned her head and caressed her face with his cock, drawing it slowly across her cheek, her closed eyes, down her other cheek, across her nose again, and then down to her lips. She sighed as she circled the tip of his cock with puckered lips.

He could feel her breath on his cock, her lips on the tip of his dick, the soft lips with which she said so many sweet things to him, laughed with such joy, and kissed him so affectionately. He felt an urge to cum right then, to squirt his hot, wet jism on her lips. He knew, however, that she would not like that at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make this experience unpleasant for her. However, he wasn't entirely sure he could control when he would cum, and he knew that if she kept this up, it would not be much longer when that inevitable rush of pleasure would overwhelm him.

He looked back outside to try to distract himself. "Oh my gosh," he exclaimed as soon as he saw her. She must have caught her t-shirt on a thorn or something. Mrs. Johnson's boob was sticking out of her t-shirt. The tear was so large that the nipple, areola, and even a bit of white boob flesh was literally hanging out while she was digging, the end of her tit wiggling and jiggling as she worked the dirt, her nipple stiff in the air. He was shocked. He was looking right at the bare nip of Bridget's mother. "Oh my gosh," he exclaimed again.

Bridget pulled away from his cock. "Now be quiet, Pookie," she scolded. "Mummie will get suspicious." She looked up at him. She giggled at his aroused and distraught expression. "And, try not to look so goofy," she scolded, but she liked the fact that she was making him so excited. She looked at him with her large green eyes, her lashes fluttering, her hand holding hard onto his cock. "Are you keeping an eye on mummie so that she doesn't catch me playing with your thing?"

"Yes, yes," he exclaimed, trying to maintain his composure. He wondered if he should tell Bridget that he could see her mother's tit. He felt guilty about enjoying the fact that he saw her mother's nipple while Bridget was handling his cock, but he also did not want to interfere with this moment. He did love Bridget, and this was indeed a special moment for them. His cock grew harder. He could see the head swell with his passion. It was now twitching in her hand. Her sweet hand felt so much better than his own, and she looked so adorable, so sexy, kneeling between his legs.

Bridget gripped his cock even more tightly. She drew her fist up and down its length. She heard Jason groan with pleasure. She used her other hand to massage the tip with her palm. She circled her palm around and around the purple bulb as her other hand moved up and down the shaft.

Jason spread his legs further, slid forward, and reached for her. He reached out and caressed her cheek. "Bridget," he whispered, "It's going to happen."

This made Bridget all the more excited. She breathlessly exclaimed, "Hold my breasts, Pookie." He could only do so with one hand without giving too much away to her mother, but it was more than enough for the both of them. Bridget was ecstatic. She was going to make Jason cum. She was going to make his thing shoot its white liquid all over the place. She reached down between her legs with her left hand. She hoped that he wouldn't notice, but she just had to touch herself. She would at least keep her fingers outside of her panties, but she did press them against her cunnie. Enjoying the feel of his hand grasping, clutching, squeezing her tittie as she pushed hard against her clit, rubbing and massaging it with a rapid, circular movement.

Jason did not in fact notice what she was doing. He was way too distracted by the sight of her pretty face so close to his hard cock, by the sight of her precious titties encased within the soft, flowered lavender brassiere, by the feel of her tittie through the thin fabric of her bra, by the sight and feel of her clenched hand moving up and down his cock, now much more so rapidly, with an urgency and intense passion, the sweet hand of his girlfriend, jerking so hard on his cock.

"Keep an eye on mummie," Bridget warned, as her own eyes were fluttering with her passion, waiting anxiously to watch her boyfriend explode his fury.

Jason obediently glanced again at Bridget's mother, just as she looked up at him from the garden. She smiled at him, with the tip of her tit poking out of her t-shirt and a playfully teasing expression on her face. She straightened her back and pushed out her chest. The weight of her chest, as well as the weakening, flimsy fabric, caused the hole in her t-shirt to open further and much of her boob fell out. She looked down in surprise. Almost her entire left tit was exposed. She glanced back to Jason. She had wanted to give him a little peek, purportedly outside of her own awareness, but there was no way she could pretend to be unaware of this.

Jason did indeed see. Bridget's mother's huge breast flopped right out before his eyes.

Mrs. Johnson dropped her trowel and placed her dirty gloved hands over her left boob, squashing it against her. She looked up at him, her face awash with intense embarrassment. Jason's eyes seemed to be awash with arousal. 'Oh my goodness,' she thought. She clearly went too far. She quickly stood, trying to keep her breast hidden from his view, which was difficult as she got to her feet.

Jason exclaimed, "Bridget, your mother!" just as his cock exploded in her hand.

Cum started shooting, gushing out in thick loads. Waves of pleasure swept over him, his face was awash with excitement, passion, and shock.

Mrs. Johnson saw the passion, perhaps even lust, in Jason's face. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she gathered a couple of tools and rushed to the house.

Bridget did not pull back. She was swept away by her own paroxysm of pleasure. She just knelt there, clutching her convulsing cunt, enjoying the sight of Jason's white gushers bursting from the round bulb of his dick, shooting up into the air, splashing onto the floor, onto her shoulder, onto her chest, staining her bra, and even onto her face. She just basked in the feel of the hot wet splashes rained across her body as her own orgasm swept her away.

Jason turned to Bridget and enjoyed the sight as well. Ropes of white cum were lashed across her body. Her face was splattered with splashes of cum, some of it dripping down across her cheeks, her nose, and chin in thick gobs, gaining speed as they went, picking up more juice as they worked down her face. Her hair was even hit; her Sandra Dee spotted with cum. He had never felt an orgasm as intense as this. It seemed like there was an endless eruptions of cum.

When he was done he slowly regained his senses. He smiled apologetically at Bridget, as she was drenched in his juices. She did not, however, appear to mind. She as well had a blissful look. She smiled warmly. "I made you make a terrible mess, didn't I Pookie," she said proudly, cum dripping from her face onto her bra, her hand soaked in his sticky fluid.

"You sure did," he replied breathlessly. She was such a pretty girl, and she seemed all the more attractive with her face splattered with cum.

Bridget rose up on her knees. She pulled him down toward her and gave him a big kiss.

He could smell the scent of his cum on her face, as well as taste a bit of it on her lips.

They both heard the sound of Bridget's mother coming up the stairs.

Bridget pulled back in shock and fright. She quickly got up and dashed back across the room toward the bed. Jason was busy getting his cock back into his pants, but he didn't miss the opportunity to admire the sight of Bridget's bottom swinging rapidly to and fro. He was again reminded of how pretty her bottom looked in the flowered panties. He knew what he would get her for Valentine's day.

She first went for her skirt. She quickly got it around her waist and fastened. As she was heading for her sweater her mother appeared in the door. Bridget clutched her sweater against her chest in a fruitless effort to hide the fact that she was all but naked beneath it. She did not seem to appreciate that her face being covered in cum was much more problematic.

Her mother, however, didn't look in. She was herself clutching the front of her t-shirt, hiding the fact that if she did not her breast would fall out. She didn't even look in, as she felt too self-conscious about, once again, catching Jason's eye. She just said as she rushed past the door, "There's cookies downstairs. I'll be in the shower."

Jason and Bridget looked at each other in surprise and relief. They both grinned, knowing how fortunate they were. Jason got up and walked over to her. Bridget dropped her sweater, showing him once again her sweat lavender breasts, her nips still poking proudly through the thin, soft fabric.

He brought out a handkerchief from his pocket to helped clean her face. "Bridget, I'm sorry, but I think some got in your hair."

"Oh my!" she gasped and dashed to the vanity mirror. But, once she arrived she had to giggle. The mess on her face was much worse. "Well, it is an unusual highlighter." She turned to him as she dabbed her face with a pink hankie. "I liked watching you do it, Jason," she whispered in guilty pleasure.

"I liked watching you do it too," he admitted, feeling a bit awkward himself.

"I'm sorry that you had to watch mummie."

"I liked watching her daughter a lot more."

"Next time I'll watch mummie and you can watch me."

He wasn't quite sure what she was suggesting, but he knew he would look forward to it.

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I hope you liked it. Once again, I am very open to suggestions for how to improve my stories. In any case, please do take the time to vote!