Carol's Joy is Boys Ch. 01

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Mature wife out for a ride.
7.9k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/08/2005
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Carol Maples glanced at the speedometer and eased the pressure of her dainty foot on the gas pedal. A speeding ticket would be all she required to make the waning day a complete disaster. Even the elements seemed to have joined in some mysterious conspiracy to complicate what she had thought would be the simplest conclusion to a rapidly deteriorating marriage. In the southwest, surging like an angry sea, storm clouds advanced with frightening and deep-throated rumblings, sending out jagged streaks of lighting, causing the radio to crackle with irritating frequency.

If only there had been some area of possible cooperation, she remained herself she would have been willing to give Harry another chance. But, after two years of listening to his rasping snores while she laid fingering her hungry cunt in a desperate bid for some measure of relief, any attempt at reconciliation seemed utterly useless. At thirty-two, Carol was married to a man who had screwed her exactly four times, pouring his semen into her greedy vagina after only a dozen ineffective thrusts of his semi-hard penis.

Last night, finding her need becoming almost painful in its intensity, she had pleaded with him to let her bring him to an erection with her mouth, an act he had never before permitted. His reaction had been almost violent, accompanied by a lurid verbal description of her effort as a perversion, which would be employed by only the sorriest of whores.

After a restless night on the living room couch, Carol had prepared their breakfast without comment. Then, as soon as Harry had departed for the office, she had hurriedly packed two large suitcases, called the bank and arranged to withdraw her considerable savings, loaded the bags in the trunk of the big Lincoln and headed north to the highway before turning west.

She paused for lunch at a roadside diner, ignoring the admiring stares of the males and the envious glares of their female companions. Carol knew that her tight blouse showed every curve of her high firm breasts, betraying the absence of any bra by the bold thrust of her pronounced nipples. She was also conscious that the donned skirt barely covered her well-rounded ass, revealing the tanned perfection of columnar thighs and tapered calves, an enticing display which she accentuated by letting her buttocks sway with an uninhibited rhythm as she walked.

Admittedly, she wondered how many cocks had stiffened as their owners watched her entrance. But her personal bitterness diluted the interest to one of casual concern. Back on the highway, she admitted the lack of any real plan. She was headed west. If she continued on her present course, she would end up in Nashville where her sister Bonnie lived with her two teenage children. It had been several years since her last visit. Since then, Bonnie and Raymond had separated, leaving the kids, Noreen and Danny, with their mother.

Carol remembered them as awkward youngsters, but she realized that time had transformed them into individuals she would probably not even recognize. Noreen would be fifteen, while Danny would be approaching his eighteenth birthday. It seemed impossible that the years could have sailed by so rapidly. Christ! It seemed like only a few months ago that she had accepted Harry Maples' proposal, justifying it with the belief drilled into her by her mother: If a woman wasn't married by the age of thirty, she would be considered either a whore or a lesbian.

Carol was neither of these, but she had enjoyed the sexual calisthenics of more partners than she could readily recall. Nor had she failed to investigate the possibilities of achieving release with one of her own gender. Regardless of the social stigma attached to such activity, she could find nothing wrong with two people doing anything, which made them feel good. However, once she married Harry, she had limited her satisfaction to the skilled caress of her own fingers. Grateful for her oversized clit, which permitted her to jack herself off almost, like a man.

Easily guiding the big car with one hand, she slid the other between her warm thighs, pressing the thin rayon against the pouting lips of her hungry cunt. Damn! She was already wet down there! Her mind painted a vivid picture of an impossibly huge cock, long, hard and thick, its crimson head poised at the exact point where her fingers massaged the sensitive labia, causing her ass to squirm on the yielding seat. It had been too long, she reminded herself, since she had really been fucked! Harry's clumsy and swift mountings had done nothing but increase her desire. What she needed was a man who could ride her until her pussy was completely satisfied.

Ahead of her, standing with an arm extended and thumb jutting in supplication, she saw a small figure. Growing in size as the car ate up the separating distance. Before she realized what she was doing, her foot had tapped the brake pedal. Slowing the big Lincoln until she could get a better look at the would-be hitchhiker. Hell! She murmured to herself. He was only a kid. Sandy-haired, muscular, but with an innocent face that calmed the usual fear she felt at the thought of picking up a stranger on the highway. She brought the Lincoln to a halt a few yards beyond the lad, pulling onto the level shoulder of the road and watching the rear view mirror as the youngster loped toward her on tanned bare legs. His jeans, which were cut into shorts that hugged the narrow hips with a tightness that displayed an astonishing, bulge at his crotch.

Carol had already estimated his age at about sixteen. If she was right, it was impossible that the massive mound could be real. He must, she thought with a grin, be wearing one of those gadgets that made every man look like a stallion. The youth halted beside the car, shifting the small canvas pack from his shoulder as his fingers reached for the door's handle. Carol flicked the switch that unlocked the doors, waiting until the boy had opened the heavy hinged panel before she spoke.

"Where're you going?" She found her eyes examining his broad shoulders and narrow hips with increasing admiration. With his unruly blond hair and ready smile, he seemed even younger than she had first thought. But his body was that of a man. It was even possible, she mused, that the provocative bulge at the junction of those powerful thighs was the real thing. If so, it would be a formidable weapon. The possibility increased the dampness of her own crotch and Carol patted the seat beside her.

With an answering grin, the youth swing his pack into the back seat and slid in beside the older woman pulling the door closed before answering. His voice was reassuringly soft and laced with a pronounced accent that betrayed his Southern origin. "Just anywhere, ma'am," he said, leaning back against the soft upholstery and stretching his tanned legs. "As long as its west." His gaze drifted over the expanse of bare thighs where Carol's skirt had drifted upward with her recent self-caressing.

"I'm going to Nashville," Carol offered. "Is that far enough?"

"Couldn't be better," he answered, the grin broadening. "I got a few friends in the music business there. Maybe I can sell some of my songs." Carol set the Lincoln in motion, not bothering to pull her skirt down. Hell! It was good to have someone admire her legs.

Lighting sawed a jagged path through the menacing clouds, followed by a peal of thunder that made Carol's body jerk. Jiggling her firm breasts and raking the sensitive nipples against the clinging blouse. She could feel the boy's eyes follow the provocative motion and found the prominent nubs swelling under his visual caress.

"Looks as if I came along just in time," she said, aware that her voice was more husky than usual. "Those clouds are really black."

The lad shrugged, shifting his bare legs, brushing his knee against her right thigh and causing her muscles to tighten at the momentary contact. The sensation seemed to drive up her lush flesh and burrow into the hungry dampness of her crotch, creating a tremor of painful need in the plump-lipped cunt.

"I kind of like the rain," the youth said. "Especially at night. The sound of rain on the roof turns me on."

Carol shot him a questioning glance. "Turns you on?" she repeated, clamping her thighs together in an effort to still the demand of her ripe young body. "How?" His eyes met hers before she could turn her attention back to the highway, the brown orbs displaying innocence she found both disquieting and arousing. It was, she mused, like being eighteen again and exchanging remarks with a boy who was dying to get his hand between her legs and his finger into the hot, little slit that could squeeze it with a slippery grip that promised pleasures beyond his wildest dreams-if he succeeded in slipping his throbbing cock into the pulsating corridor of her skilled pussy.

"I guess I shouldn't have said that," he murmured. Dropping his eyes and lacing his fingers together over his bare thighs. Unobtrusively, his heavily tanned forearm pressed against the ridge of his semi-hard cock. "I hope I didn't offend you ma'am."

"Don't be silly!" Carol soothed. "And don't call me ma'am." She shot another quick look at his handsome face, almost smiling at the flush that crept upward from his open collar.

"Heck, no!" he corrected. "Your so beautiful I hadn't even thought about how old you are." The forearm was moving, sliding over the bulging outline in his faded shorts, slowly and carefully.

"That's sweet," Carol smiled. "But I'm still a lot older than you. You couldn't be more that seventeen."

"I'm eighteen, but I have a baby face so everyone seems to think I'm sixteen." He seemed to realize the seriousness of his admission and he slid farther back on the seat, his forearm pressing harder over the increasingly huge roll of his hidden prick.

"If your afraid I'll cause any trouble you can drop me off," he blurted. Carol lifted her shoulders, fully aware of the resulting thrust of her full breasts. "I'm not worried," she assured him." It seems we're both running away from something."

"I haven't done anything wrong." he added hastily. "I just got tired of the scene at home. My old man can't understand the way I feel about things, so I just split. I don't think he cares enough to look for me."

"Sounds like we're both in the same boat," Carol remarked. "I left my husband for pretty much the same reasons."

Another flash of lighting ripped the sky and the thunder was almost deafening. Carol shuddered and clenched the wheel more tightly. She hated to drive in the rain, and the clouds threatened to unleash their contents at any moment.

"I think we'd betted find a motel pretty soon," she said impatiently. "When the rain starts, I'll probably last all night." The boy nodded. "I don't blame you," he said in a soft voice. "Maybe I can catch another ride before it gets too bad."

"Hey!" Carol exclaimed. "I thought you wanted to ride all the way to Nashville."

"I'd like to," he answered. "But I don't have any money for a room." He hesitated. "Unless you'd let me sleep in the car?" He answered.

"You'll do nothing of the kind!" Carol assured him. "You'll have a room just like mine." She halted his protest before it could emerge, her right hand falling with pretend carelessness to the warm hardness of his muscular thigh. Her fingers rested lightly, then pressed with urgent familiarity as they felt the heat of his naked flesh.

Again the searing shudder of desire washed through her belly, centering in the cleft of her long denied cunt and drawing the wet vaginal juices toward the flexing entrance. She tried to make her voice casual, but the words spilled out in a sensual rush.

"I'd feel a lot safer if I knew you were close by." she said. "In fact, I wish you could stay in the same room." She was surprised at her own boldness and the thinly veiled invitation in the simple statement. She felt his strong fingers cover her hand, pressing it closer against his naked thigh. Deliberately, she reversed her palm, twisting her fingers in his and shivering as they tightened.

For the first time, she surrendered to the image of his young body, naked and bronzed, mounting her own welcoming curves. His hard cock poised with its swollen head ready to force its way into her slippery pussy. A little moan of anticipation escaped her full lips. The lad squeezed her fingers, drawing them upward along his thigh in an unintentional reaction that pressed the back of her hand against the hardness inside his bulging shorts. Almost as quickly as it was accomplished, he released his grip, moving farther away from her as he realized what he had done.

"I ...I'm sorry!" he said in a near whisper. "I didn't mean to do that. Its just that you're so pretty and nice.... and everything."

Carol's hand turned, her palm rubbing and estimating, moving over the full length of his prick before retreating with unhurried ease to the wheel of the Lincoln. She sucked in a deep breath.

"Don't apologize," she said huskily, "It's all right."

"Did.... did you mean it about the same room?" he persisted.

"Why not?" she asked. "I can always register us as mother and son." She flashed him a wicked smile. "That is, if you don't mind pretending."

"I wish you were," he said forcefully. "My mom's a real square. She won't even let me run around the house without a shirt. She says it's vulgar."

"Everybody has some kind of a hang-up," Carol reminded him. "Maybe she can't help being like that."

"Yeah," he murmured. "But she wants everybody else to be like her."

Carol spotted a roadside sign and indicated it with a nod of her head. "You'd better give me your name," she grinned. "Unless you want me to invent one."

"Randy," he supplied. "Randy Traynor. It's really Randolph, but I hated that."

She held out her hand, and then suddenly dropped it to encircle his straining erection with a quick squeeze, surprising herself with the boldness of the act. "I'm Carol Maples," she supplied. "So let's make it Randy and Carol. Okay."

The lad's body stiffened, his hips bucking upward as her fingers maintained their exciting pressure. He licked his lips and drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?" Carol murmured, using her free hand to steer the Lincoln into the circular drive that led to the motel's office. Randy gave an unintelligible sound, jamming both hands down against her pleasurable grip, moving his buttocks in an effort to slide his thick shaft through the warm grip. Carol felt the increased stiffening and hardening aiding the lad's movement by a slow sliding that permitted a quick exploration of the swollen head of his cock.

"Yes!" he blurted, staring down at his lap, his face a coloring with embarrassment even as his pelvis worked higher. "It never feels that good when I do it."

Carol braked to a stop without lifting her hand. Uncertain as to just why she had made the initial approach, she now found herself possessed by a demand that she could no longer resist. His words suddenly penetrated the fog of lust in her whirling brain, their meaning making her tighten her grip on his throbbing prick.

"Randy," she said, spacing her words to hide the breathlessness she was sure had crept into her voice. "Are you telling me that this is the first time a woman has ever touched you there?"

The boy nodded. "I guess you think that's kind of dumb," he muttered. "I told you about my folks. They never let me do anything."

"You mean you've never been with a girl?" Carol was unable to hide the note of excitement in the question. "I've only kissed a few," he admitted. "That's all."

She forced her fingers to release there promising prize, her hand trembling as it climbed back to the wheel. The hunger in her cunt was becoming unbearable, and she could feel the labial lips pulsating as the heat and wetness spread. Damping her panties and sending little shivers down her lush thighs.

"Just wait right here, Randy," she told him. "I'll register and arrange for dinner to be sent to the room." She nodded toward the pack he had placed in the rear seat. "Do you have any clothes back there?"

"Nothing I could wear in the dining room," he said still refusing to meet her eyes. His hands still covering his bulging crotch, uncertain and nervous. "All I want is a sandwich." Carol flipped the door handle and climbed out of the car, holding the door open, as she spoke, "You won't run away?"

Randy's head turned, his face tense, "After what you just did? I don't want to ever leave." She deliberately rolled her deliciously curved ass as she crossed the concrete, knowing that his eyes were following the suggestive motion, and the thought of his reaction increased the hot seeping between her flexing thighs.

The desk clerk, a myopic and bald fat man, ogled her from behind his thick-lensed spectacles, a red tongue flicking across the thick lips as she shoved her pointed breasts over the desk top giving him a good look down the front of her deeply cut blouse. There was no difficulty registering as Ms. Carol Maples and her son. She handed the clerk one of the half dozen credit cards from her small purse, suppressing a smile as he tried to sneak another look at her enticing boobs. She was also amused at the irony of having Harry pay the bill for the room. It would serve him right, she mused. After all, because of his lack of consideration, she was two years behind in her fucking.

Signing the white rectangle with a bold flourish, she felt a little surge of satisfaction. If the boy in the car lived up to her expectations, he would make up for at least a part of the pleasure her marriage had denied her. Her thighs tightened in anticipation. Not only was the youth equipped with a cock much larger than Harry's, but also he was a virgin. For the first time in her thirty-two years, Carol realized how a man must feel when a beautiful young girl offered him her hot little pussy for the first time.

Quickly and deftly, she ordered two steaks with all the trimmings sent to the room. Then, as an after-thought, she added a request for a fifth of gin and a large pitcher of orange juice. The desk clerk nodded, jotting down the order on a small pad. He looked up, his eyes pausing to caress her outlined nipples. "What is that drink called?" he asked hesitantly.

Carol leaned forward, resting her tits on the desktop and speaking in a low, seductive voice. "It's made with sloe gin," she purred. "They call it a Slow Screw."

Chapter Two

Parking the Lincoln in front of the neatly numbered door, Carol waved a hand at the boy's pack. "Let the luggage go for now," she said. "We can bring it in after dinner."

Randy shrugged his broad shoulders in agreement. He slid out of the car, punching the lock button before closing the door and following Carol into the comfortably furnished room. His blue eyes swept across the red carpet and the matching spread on the larger of the two beds. Without turning, he closed the door behind him and switched his gaze to Carol's flushed features as she stood in the center of the room. Her own eyes roving up and down his muscular body, dwelling with increased interest on the magnificent bulge in his frayed shorts.

"Come here Randy," she said in a soft voice, standing almost motionless as the boy crossed the intervening space and stood facing her. Close enough for her to feel the aura of desire she had created in his youthful loins.

"Would you like to kiss me?" she asked simply.

"I'm.... I'm not very good at it," the boy said hesitantly. "Like I told you, I've only kissed a few girls. You'll have to tell me if I do it right." Her hands lifted, fingers pressing his narrow waist, drawing him closer. "Just do what you want to do," she whispered. "I'll give you a grade after we're through."

Randy's arms went about her, clumsy but eager, closing the few inches that separated them. Carol's tits yielded to his powerful chest, the nipples seeming to leap to attention as they felt the heat of his body through the thin shirt and her equally thin blouse. His mouth fastened over her parted lips and his hips shoved that delightful hardness against her prominent cunt mound. Moving with a slight rubbing that dragged a moan from her throat and sent her tongue darting between his teeth to explore the sweet taste of his young mouth.