tagMatureAngel Lake

Angel Lake


As the head of my cock exploded inside Jared's Mom's pussy, I found myself asking the question, "How did this even happen?" I gave a couple victory thrusts against her ass that was bent over the log, watching the flesh of her cheeks ripple each time, hearing her coo and moan in that way that drives men crazy. I knew exactly what moment set this fantastical turn of events in motion. It happened on the drive out here, the instant my forearm brushed against her huge, warm, motherly tits.

We'd been planning the camping trip for a few months. Not too many of us, just me, Jared, his Mom, and our friends from school Megan and Chris. The five of us, some tents, some hotdogs, and one hell of beautiful lake -- and one hell of a beautiful female body, and I'm not talking about Megan.

Jared and I go way back, back to Grade Five when we had our own little posse on the playground. We kicked some ass. We weren't bullies, but we held our own out there in the warzone known as recess. Back then I regarded his Mom in a distant, unconcerned way, nothing like the way I noticed her in my teens after the boners started happening. Then she took on a whole new light. I still remember the first time I saw her in that yellow bikini walking in their backyard, her womanly, child-bearing hips swaying with her gait; her creamy skin glowing in the sun; her ripe, full, enourmous tits hanging proudly in the air, bouncing nicely with each step, prompting involuntary fantasies of squeezing, fondling, and kneading them in my hands; her plump, round, healthy ass wriggling. How I wanted to spank that wide, delectable ass, to test its firmness with my hand.

Her hair is black, wavy, and long, and her face warm, understanding, and peaceful. Almost forty now, she stands 5'7''ish, and is a total sweetheart. Years have done little to mar her voluptuous form, and it is as of yet one of the unsolved riddles of the universe why no dude has jumped all over this woman since Jared's dad passed away when he was three. I think there've been a couple boyfriends that didn't pan out.

Megan and Chris are recent additions to our crew. Jared and I have been chumming around with them since Grade Ten, so a few years now, and they're great pals. Chris is addicted to WoW, and it's starting to hit his grades, and Megan is on her twelfth run of the whole Twilight series, that crazy bitch. Her freaken grades are probably being hit by now. I really do love her though, as a friend. She's alright looking in her own way, though a little skinny and titless; nowhere near as womanly as Sarah, Jared's Mom. Sarah, the woman whose waist I still gripped, whose salivating pussy was still wrapped around my cock. I gave her right cheek a spank and took the liberty of a squeeze. Man I love that ass.

The Jeep was shady and cool as it went along the gravel road, contrasted to the outside heat and sun of a Saturday pre-noon. Jared was driving and Chris was shotgun, and I was pleasantly sandwiched between the ladies, Sarah on my left, Megan on my right. The first few hours we had all been talking, but now it was quiet. Megan was resting her head against the window awkwardly with her Ipod droning, rebelling against the music already playing in the vehicle, and Sarah was reading some light novel. Up front in the sausage fest, a one-sided conversation was taking place.

"Man, but my level eighty is totally sick. I mean, it's like sick, sick."


I was mostly in my own universe, as usual. I glanced to my right. What a crazy freaken angle to rest your head at. I thought. Oh, maybe she's asleep. Still, she's gonna wake up paralyzed, that crazy bitch. I really do love her though, as a friend. I glanced to my left -- more like peeked actually. Tit's ahoy! Jesus Christ, what a top. Why even wear a top like that, unless you want to be noticed? Sarah's massive cleavage was literally overflowing her dark-green blouse, the edge of the fabric making indents in the boobs. And that top was low. Another inch and we would have been entering nipple territory.

And those thighs! Her short shorts could barely contain those wide, womanly legs, smoothly skinned and toned from her biking and hiking and whatever else she did. Sarah was a pretty relaxed dresser around our gang, true, but today's outfit was particularly boner-inducing. No one really cared though, which was just the way our gang was.

Wait, was she even wearing a bra? I wasn't so sure. The whole while of the ride I had become increasingly convinced that there was no bra to speak of, for there seemed to be just the outline of her nipples in the fabric covering either breast, but the fabric was thick enough to sow doubt. The past few hours had been very fun indeed, with me taking every opportunity to clandestinely peek over and oggle her spellbinding cleavage. That visible one-third the surface area of her massive tits was my private piece of eye-candy, and how I savoured the bumpier sections of gravel. Thank God my briefs were tight, otherwise my hands would have been resting in my lap most the ways.

How had this miraculous seating arrangement come to be, anyways? It was Sarah's doing! She was the one who insisted Jared drive, and the one who beckoned me into the Jeep after her when we set off.

Really, there has been this tacit thing of sorts stewing between Sarah and I for a while now. We're always teasing, playing, totally relaxed and carefree, never taking the situation too seriously -- and sometimes casual petting occurs. Nothing too crazy, just a light touch of the forearm or wrist, or nudge, or pat on the shoulder. I usually get to see her at least once a week, whenever I hang at Jared's which is often. Our chemistry is so easy. She's one of the few adults I can really let it all hang out in front of, so to speak.

I turned my head to the left.

"Good book?"

"Not too bad. Good to take one's mind off things," She seemed receptive and cheery.

"Cheesy romance, horror, espionage?..."

"It's a pretty cheesy romance, actually," she laughed.

"Ooooooo," I teased. "Does it have at least any killing?" I pleaded.

"Hah, no. It's pretty mild,"


"Why, what kind of stuff do you read, Craig?" she taunted. That's my name, by the way. How she was smiling and looking at me was very encouraging, flirtatious even.

"Oh, you know. Little of this, little of that. You like Stephen King?"

"Yeah," she admitted after a moment, "I read some of his short stories, and they were disturbing, to say the least."

"Yeah, he goes right into the nitty-gritty: 'The severed artery launched blood all the way to the ceiling!'" She laughed; I continued, "I bet your romance can't compare with that level of imagery."

"Well, actually..." she began, but checked herself.


She just smiled for a good few moments before saying anything.

"This one scene is a little outré,"

"No way, show me."

"Haha, no, no,"

"Come on!"

"No no, you can't see it," she laughed, closing the book in her lap. I reached my right hand over to grab it, but she drew it away to her left.

"No! no no no," she said, clearly having fun. "Come on," I insisted. I got a hold of it and gently tugged, not trying to wrest it from her, my hand comfortable to hover several inches in front of those mammoth tits.

"Come on!"

"Nunh-uh, silly boy,"

She drew it further away, but I did not give up. We struggled lightly, neither exerting much force, but then I made a surprise tug and almost tore it out of her hand. She looked at me with play astonishment and I smirked back evilly. She retaliated with her own yank, and that's when I can officially report first contact, Houston. It was a hard yank but stubborn me held tight, and my forearm was draped right across those titties -- skin to skin. How the warm, supple flesh gave beneath my forearm! Conforming and feminine. We struggled and wrestled with my arm enjoying the sensation of her bouncing tits for what in all reality must have only been two or three seconds, then I gave up and retrieved my arm. The best thing was we totally pretended nothing happened and went on as usual.

"Okay, you win. Jerk."

"Don't be a baby, Craig. You're a big boy now."

"Whatever, Mrs. Sarah," I said in mock pique.

"There, there," she said, patting my left thigh.

The arm-against-breasts thing definitely ignited something, leaving an almost tangible, sexual vibe in the air. Our conversation waned after that, but our shoulder-friction seemed to take on a more intimate tone. This whole session took place unmarked. Sure, Jared heard us playing around, but that was nothing unusual, and Megan probably wouldn't have noticed a nuke go off outside her window with her Ipod blaring like that, that crazy bitch. Chris' mind was faraway in his own little world, or, should I say, the World of Warcraft.

I'll be honest: I'm kind of a risk-taker, to the point of being a dumbass sometimes, but Sarah is just as free-spirited so this kind of thing really didn't faze or worry us. On the contrary, it was extremely, effervescently exciting. Not long after that the whole atmosphere of the Jeep livened up, what with princess Ipod coming back from the dead.

"Wow, how awesome does my neck not feel right now?"

"What did you expect, you crazy bitch? You were sleeping with your head on a ninety degree angle." I admonished unseriously.

"Yeah, well, this retarded seat doesn't recline, you retard. Get a new SUV, Sarah!"

"There's plenty of room to lie down on the roof, Megan." said the Mrs.

"Haha, right," she laughed sincerely.

"Oh, you know I love you Megs," I said, and gave her a big hug. We were always pretty open and affectionate with the Megan.

"ETA twenty minutes!" shouted Jared.

Almost there.

"Copy, Jar-Head!" I returned, selecting one of his many nicknames. "You still alive back there, Kreg!?" he fired back. He calls me Kreg the Barbarian because of my total unscrupulousness. Oh... What's this? Fuck yeah! Bumpy section! I peeked over and watched those mammoth titties jiggle and bounce, barely contained in the skimpy blouse, and I swear I caught the corner of Sarah's mouth smirk at me when I did. Well, maybe I was a little obvious with the way my head turned exactly when the bumps started. Looks like she didn't mind if I enjoyed the show, at least.

Between our campsite and the shore were twenty feet of sparse pine and a mossy floor. A worn road lead to our area from the rest of the camp, and the Jeep was parked in the nook for vehicles. The campsite's only amenity was a brick fire-pit with grill. The hub around the fire-pit was worn from activity, the floor mostly consisting of dried, beaten evergreen needles; further out from the hub moss took over. Our tents were nestled in the trees where the moss was thick and cushiony, and around the fire-pit we had set up folding chairs. Chris and I wore tees while Jared wore a tank. It had to be at least 35 degrees out there.

Megan and I were hanging by the fire-pit while Sarah helped Jared and Chris set up their double tent, the others already up. I looked at my watch: quarter past one. I looked up towards the lake where it lay between the trees, only a handful of pine overlaying the image of gentle waves shining in the sun. Few clouds today.

"Why do you like those books, anyway? They're boring as fuck."

"Fuck is not a qualifier, you silly, simpleminded little frog. I don't expect you to understand the intricacies of Edward's and Bella's relationship. You just wait. History will remember Twilight for the masterpiece that it is."


"It's a vampire story without any killing, what the fuck? They aren't even vampires; they're some kind of delusional, sparkly rock monster. Real vampires burn in the sun and sleep in coffins, Megatron." That's my favourite nickname for the Megan.

"Idiot. Go read your scary bedtime stories," she sighed.

The rest of the party joined us from the tents.

"Alright! Finally set up!" burst Jared.

"Now what?" said Chris in a monotone.

"I'm kinda thirsty." chimed in Megan.

"Me too," contributed Sarah.

"Well y'all," went I, "Might as well hit the convenience store. It's a five minute walk at the most."

"Yeah," "Yeah," "Let's do it,"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind exploring the shore a bit," said the evil Decepticon overlord.

"Well, not all of us have to go. Who wants to go get drinks?" I said.

"Me, I need some other stuff too," said Jared.

"Get me a Sprite!" chirped Megan.

"I'll come too," monotoned Chris. All this open space and nature seemed to be blowing his mind, sort of like how Gollum must have felt when he left his cavern for the first time in hundreds of years, except Chris' cavern was called Azeroth. He yearned to set his eyes on some cold, reliable concrete.

"And kids, it looks like there's no firewood for later," said a sweetly concerned Sarah, always the practical adult. "We'll have to get some. Yeah, why don't you get some water for me, honey?" addressing Jared, "--and I'll collect some kindling and dried logs and stuff."


"Now come on, Mrs. Sarah. What kind of knight in shining armour would I be if I let a lady do all the work?"

"You can help too, Craig," she said in mock sarcasm, rolling her eyes, but she seemed intrigued by the idea.

"Anything to help, my lady," I said bowing. Some alone time with Sarah? Oh yeah.

Megan meandered through the trees toward the shore, which after the moss dissipated was an unbroken, gentle slope of rock right into the lake, and Jared and Chris set off down the dirt road, which facing the lake went to the left. To the right was airy, mystical forest as far as the eye could see.

"You think we'll find any wood over there?" I said pointing at the forest.

"I'm sure we will,"

"Awlright, let's move. Move, move, move!" (That's me pretending we're in the army)

She giggled and we set off.

She was dressed the same as the ride except for some large, sleek sunglasses she had donned. I was wearing a white tee with some loud colours, some green shorts, and both of us sported hiking sandals. I let her lead the way, happy to watch her mighty hips and ass work their magic in those tight shorts. The locomotion of the womanly haunches was hypnotic as she wove her way over the moss and twigs, and the revealing top gave me a grand view of her creamy, slender back.

I wondered why she ignored perfectly dry and burnable kindling we passed, leading us further and further away from the campsite. Before long, glancing over my shoulder, the tents were out of sight, and we were alone but for the serene, indifferent trees, the welcoming moss, and the lake sparkling to our left. The sun came down through the trees in broken splashes. Birds chirped and sang from random directions, invisible but for occasional darting movements out of the corner of my eye, fairy-like. It was stuffy and humid. Whew, not even a half-hour in that muggy heat and we were sweating.

I was right behind her when she abruptly stopped, ramming into her. I reacted by snatching her waist to steady myself; she reached her hands back under my arms and grabbed my hips. We rocked precariously for a moment.

"Whoops, my bad, Sarah,"

"No, it's this slippery little log here, Oh!"

Suddenly she lost her balance and tipped backwards against me, managing to flip around in the process. She grabbed me and by my deteriorating foothold I knew we were going down. Luckily the moss was abundant and thick behind us, so when we did hit it was surprisingly painless. I struck the moss and she landed on top of me, half winding me, but I didn't even notice that. All I could notice was Sarah's plump, warm body pressing down against mine. Slippery log my ass, she knew how perfect this moss was to fall on. Her face was over mine, and her blackest hair was scattered and tossed around our heads in a cocoon of privacy. She was grinning mischievously. My hands were securely fastened to her waist, and they were quite happy there.

"You okay, Mrs. Sarah?"

"I'm doing just fine,"

"Gotta love this moss, eh?"

We both knew exactly what was going on, and we both were playing game.

"Shhh," she crooned, and brought her lips to mine in a kiss. I was only too willing.

Our kiss was intense, loosing much of the restrained passion between us, and it just felt so good having the warm mass of her on top of me, pressing me into the moss, feeling those mammoth tits mashed against my chest. I looked into her shining green, hungry eyes. Her hands came up around my head, and I let my left drift up her smooth back exploring. As we experienced eachother, my right started to make its way up her side, on a mission. Before long it encountered the giant mound that was her clothed breast. Cautiously I started to palm the side of it. To my surprise she whispered, "Yes, squeeze it!" so I let my hand do whatever it felt like to that tit, which was squeezing, fondling, and kneading. I found her nipple though the fabric and pinched it; she squeaked in delight. I started to massage it with my thumb.

My left hand got jealous, so it came around and started to feel-up and fondle her other massive breast, the whole while our moistened lips interlocking and playing and generally getting to know eachother. Her legs were wrapped around me, our groins shoved together. My cock was already hard, and she noticed. She ground against it dirtily.

My right hand got ballsy once more and went to her stomach, feeling the soft skin there, and found its way under her top. I started to snake my way up to her huge, naked tits. It wasn't long before I found them and started frisking the warm, pliable flesh.

With a laugh she sat herself up, grabbed the base of her top and lifted. The fabric peeled off her creamy stomach, a little slick with sweat, and then when her tits were set free, they flopped gloriously before my eyes. At least a G cup and totally natural, I was sure. They were perfectly proportioned and shaped, hand molded by an angel with a perfectionist's eye, and the excited nipples were large and swollen with vital, protruding areolas. She tossed her top away to the side. As I sat up I espied a droplet of sweat trickle down her neck and upper chest, all the way to her nipple where it perched. I took the tit in both hands and sucked that succulent nipple into my mouth, tasting the salty drop, starting to kiss, suck and lick with abandon. The nipple delights the tongue! She loved the attention and feel of my hungry lips on her nipples (tits are, after all, meant to be sucked). I migrated my mouth to the other breast, holstering one in each hand, all the while she looking down at me smiling and cooing, her ebony hair flowing about our heads.

"You have perfect tits, Sarah,"

"Thank you, Craig,"

"Fuck I want you,"

"Here I am, honey,"

Momentarily removing my face from her heaven, I mean her chest, I surveyed the forest. Hah, awesome! Towards the lake fifteen feet or so away, parallel to the shore, ran a fallen birch propped over some other fallen logs on one end and a higher elevation of the ground on the other, roughly waist-high. I mean, that's too perfect. Maybe there is a God.

I pointed and simply blurted: "There."

"Lead the way, honey,"


She dismounted me, our groins parting reluctantly, and she kicked off her sandals (I did the same), taking my hand as I stood up. My mind was in a state of ultra-focus throughout this, admiring every movement and tremor of her enourmous, buoyant, brilliant tits, her nipples standing proudly at attention, excited, dancing in the broken sunlight with the gyrations of her breasts. Contrary to what she said, she started to lead me to the log by the hand. I tore off and threw my tee somewhere. The moss tickled our bare feet. Watching her naked, flawless back saunter towards the birch, occasionally catching a glimpse of a mighty breast bouncing to the side, was heavenly. The overwhelming expectation! I had a pretty damn good idea what was going to happen at that fallen birch, so help me God.

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byTeneskel© 7 comments/ 160803 views/ 40 favorites

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