Lilly Clarke is a Voyeur Ch. 02

Twilight is my favorite time of day. I like to watch the day settle into night. If you are looking for me I will almost always be on my back veranda around dusk, laying on the big outdoor day bed. With a cool drink in one hand and a vibrating toy in the other, I'll be enjoying the sunset and an orgasm before my bath.

Yesterday afternoon started out just like that.

I was sipping my gin and tonic when the last rays of sunlight silhouetted a figure walking through my garden. He was bent over like a soldier avoiding gunfire, sneaking through the rhododendrons.

When he stepped into the open his pajamas gave him away. I instantly recognized Malcolm, the handsome young man with the massive cock, sneaking towards me like in a dream. A delicious cramping tightness formed in my abdomen. Horny wet anticipation began to leak out between my legs.

His pajamas were perfect for the warm evening. Baggy blue sleep shorts and a tight white t-shirt top - the sort with that silly breast pocket that never has anything in it. It clung to his sexy slim body provocatively outlining his muscular chest and abdomen.

How very sexy my gorgeous little Peeping Tom looked.

Trusting that I was hidden in the shadows I flipped my long satin bathrobe open and turned the dial on the bottom of my big electric dildo. Six inches long and as thick as a flashlight it's the one I carry everywhere.

The gentle hum sounded loud in that quiet evening but my dream boy didn't notice. He looked back the way he'd come and made a 'come here' motion. Out of the shadows came somebody else, also bent over, evading the invisible bullets.

They stood together a few yards away, heads together, whispering urgently.

Where Malcolm was handsome his companion was beautiful. They were both slim and athletic but this new one had long blond hair down over his shoulders.

He was also wearing pajamas. A red one-piece affair with short sleeves and knee length shorts that had a drop flap at the back - an old fashioned way for the user to go to the toilet without having to take the whole thing off.

Malcolm was pointing towards my house but the blond one was gesturing towards Mrs. Giordano's place next door. It was an intense conversation in hushed tones. It appeared that Malcolm wanted to see what was happening in my bedroom window but his friend thought the grass next door would be greener.

Their discussion continued as I rocked my vibrator up and down over my clit. If Malcolm had got his way this would be a very short tale. As it was blondie got his way. He led Malcolm across my yard from bush to bush and tree to tree until they disappeared into the shadow near my neighbors' house.

I lay there savoring the pulsing sensation in my pussy until I decided I was going to follow them.

Getting to my feet I dropped my vibrator into the pocket of my wrap and put my feet into my fluffy white scuffs, the ones with the big white baubles. I tied my long white shimmery gown tight under my boobs and, downing my drink for courage, stepped down off the deck onto the soft grass and out into the night.

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SYLVIA GIORDANO

They were just ahead near the palling fence that separates my yard from next door. The moon caught them like a pair of performers under a spotlight, casting their shadows onto the white painted timber.

Like a magic trick they stepped behind a big Grevillia bush that was growing up against the fence and were gone. I counted to ten and then followed them.

Enough moonlight filtered through the leaves to show a space behind the bush where three fence palings had been removed. On the other side was the Giordano's garden and a gravel path leading to a rough stone staircase.

I took a deep breath and, lifting my gown up high so as not to catch the delicate material, stepped through.

And just like that I was trespassing.

The illicit heady feeling that voyeurs crave washed over me. If I was caught it would be more then embarrassing. I'd never be able to explain myself. They might even call the police...

Tingling with excitement I followed the path and climbed the stairs. At the top I saw my boys skirting around the edge of big blue swimming pool, the pool lights lighting their way. When they disappeared into the shadows at the far end I followed as fast as I could, dodging around deckchairs and pool toys.

A paved garden path wound past flowerbeds towards the rear of a big brick home. Lights from the house filtered through to me.

Shaking with anticipation I looked through a lattice screen into a paved courtyard like a little outdoor room. A canopy of grapevines tangled around the wooden roof beams and wound up mock Corinthian columns. Everywhere was furniture. Masses of garden pots full of colorful flowers, chairs and tables and bright patterned throw rugs were scattered around on big white tiles.

I'd stumbled on the perfect vantage point. I could see everything from where I was.

Right in front of me, framed by big glass sliding doors, was the interior of Sylvia Giordano's home, a picture of domestic bliss.

To the right was a bright comfortable looking room with a red leather sofa facing me. There was a long timber dining table behind, big enough for a large family. On my left was a kitchen, and there was Sylvia cooking, bent over pots and pans that were simmering on a gas cook-top.

The boys were right in front of me, close enough to touch. They were hiding behind a big cane lounge chair, kneeling side-by-side watching Sylvia's every move. I could already see big bulges in their pajama pants that they were gripping and rubbing. Teenage boys are the best.

I'd never visited Mrs. Giordano at home but we had chatted over the years. I knew that she lived here with her son and that her husband had left or was traveling or something like that. I knew her as a beautiful warm Italian woman, always friendly and happy to make small talk even though she struggles with English.

She was carrying a lot more weight then I remembered. The beautiful Italian mamma was more full-bodied and rounder then the last time we'd met.

Her thick black hair was wound up in a tall, tiered coiffe. There must have been a hundred bobby pins in there holding it all up. Outlandish on anyone else it looked perfect on her. Wispy dark strands were framing her beautiful high cheekbones like Sophia Loren. Her eyes were dark and sultry with big thick lashes and she had that lovely radiant glow and olive skin that only Italian women seem to have.

Her off-the-shoulder white blouse had big puffy sleeves, gathered in ruffles on her thick forearms. It was very very low cut and showed off a deep cleavage. Big hard nipples poking through the white linen revealed no bra was holding up that massive bulk.

When she started whipping something in a bowl everything giggled - her plump upper arms, her belly, those enormous breasts and her magnificent huge ass.

Voluptuous and beautiful, Sylvia looked like a stereotypical mature Italian peasant.

The gypsy skirt she wore just barely covered her colossal ass. The hem was below her knees at the front but, because her ass was so prominent, it rode up behind her like a miniskirt at the back. I could see where the tops of her thick fleshy thighs met and a hint of white knickers on the arc of her lovely big bum.

The boys saw it too.

To my delight I saw Malcolm and the other boy pull their pants down around their knees to let their huge hard cocks spring up. Two great big penises like extra arms. God I love teen boys. In a wink they were jerking off gazing at Sylvia's big lush body as she cooked.

The new boy wasn't quite as big as Malcolm's ten-inch monster cock, maybe an inch or so shorter and not quite as thick but it was still bigger then most I'd seen.

Sylvia was cooking, chopping and grating and adding to a stew or sauce that was simmering on the stovetop. Steam rose seductively as she sprinkled herbs or spices, tasting the results from the wooden spoon she was using to stir.

Suddenly a handsome young man came into the lounge room and walked through to the kitchen.

He was a brunette Apollo. With tight black curly hair and the body of an athlete he was wearing nothing but white ankle length socks and a pair of white wide-front briefs. His dark muscular body had me reaching for the vibrator in my bathrobe pocket.

"There's Franky," said the blonde one to Malcolm. "I told you he'd come through..."

"I can't believe it," murmured Malcolm. "Is he really going to do his mom?"

"That's what he said," blonde responded. "He told me to come and watch if I don't believe it, and I said I don't, so we will and here we are..."

"I just don't fucking believe it Liam," Malcolm hissed back.

Liam. The blond one was Liam.

Franky was saying something and his mother responded, waving a ladle to emphasis a point, but we couldn't hear anything. It was all muffled behind the glass doors.

The young man put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek as any son would.

She offered him a taste of what was in the big black pot, blowing on the big silver serving spoon and then holding it up for him so he could taste the hot contents.

I noticed his hand on her hip as he sipped his tasty treat. In another moment it had slid down and finished its journey resting on the prominent shelf of her bottom. His hand was working its way into the cleft of her cavernous butt crack and pushing the bright floral print skirt in along with it. Soon he was groping a massive ass cheek through her dress,

All three of us voyeurs watched Franky getting a hardon in his underpants as he fondled his mamma's huge behind.

"Jeeesus Liam," groaned Malcolm as he pounded he huge cock. "He's rubbing his mom's ass..."

Sylvia kept on cooking while Franky took a dinning chair from the head of the big table and sat down behind his mother. Their conversation continued while he studied her big bum swaying from side to side as she chopped and diced.

She didn't flinch when he put his hands on her wide hips, gliding them up to her waist and then down over her plump curvy thighs. I couldn't believe it. Surely this was too much even for an affectionate Latin family.

When she allowed his hands under her skirt I knew I was witnessing more then normal maternal affection.

His hands slid slowly up from her knees, over her thighs and delved under the hem of her peasant dress. She visibly shivered.

I took a moment to switch on my toy and then played the throbbing barrel over my big hard clitoris.

The boys had also noted the significance of Franky's movements.

When he lifted the thin satiny fabric of his mothers skirt up to reveal Sylvia's big blousy white knickers they were ecstatic.

"Fuckkk Mal," moaned Liam. "Look at her lovely big ass..."

Big as her panties were they were still snug over her big wide bum. The acres of silky fabric were insufficient to cover it and her ass crack peeked over the elastic top.

I could hear some mumbled conversation between mother and son as he rubbed his mothers ass through the satiny material of her knickers. Somehow I imagined it was just idle chitchat. She held her skirt up for her son, holding it bunched on her hip as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

The woman continued stirring the big black pot, ignoring Franky as he edged his mamma's bloomers down, exposing more and more her mammoth fat white cellulite ass.

Sylvia loved it. She pretended disinterest but her eyelids were lowered and she was biting her lower lip.

Her massive buttocks quivered as he helped her step out of her knickers. Then he pulled his white wide fronts down as well, just enough to release another magnificent big hard cock. What are they feeding these boys? I'd never seen so many oversize dicks at one time.

"Oh jesus, oh fuck..." The boys were jerking off madly, swearing under their breath. I pushed my big vibrator into my cunt and pinched my nipples hard. The pain was wonderful.

Franky put his hands on her hips to draw his mother down onto his lap.

Rather then protesting she put the ladle down and, holding the edge of the marble bench top for balance, let him guide her down.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Neither could the two boys.

"Oh my fucking god..." said Malcolm. "He's going to fuck her.."

"Yeah.. oh fuck yeah," said Liam. "Just like fuckin that..."

Still chatting away for all I knew, the sexy Italian mamma spread her legs and held herself over him - bent at the knees with her huge ass poised over Franky's immense hardon. He teased it back and fourth between her big ass cheeks while she squatted there.

The big purple helmet head nestled between the flushed lips of her hairy pussy. Sylvia let her son guide her mammoth ass down until she had sat her big sexy bulk down on his lap. The big cock slid home buried deep inside his mother's cunt.

With a rapturous look on her pretty round face Sylvia rocked her sexy big ass back and forth, back and fourth over his prick.

Franky was holding her tight, his face pressed up against her back. He groped her enormous saggy tits, pinching her big hard nipples through the tight cotton blouse.

And then something started to boil over on the stove.

Steam billowed up and Sylvia jumped to her feet to save the situation leaving Franky and his huge wet boner sitting immodestly on the chair. Such a sad sight. He looked like a child who's had his favorite toy taken away.

He stood up behind her and tried to put it back in again but she pushed him away from her like he was an annoying puppy who was humping her leg.

She laughed at him when he begged dramatically for more, clasping his hand as if he was praying. The chef in Sylvia was not going to let her pasta sauce burn.

When she straightened her dress and turned back to the stove he realized there would be no more fucking mamma for the time being.

There didn't seem to be any hard feelings. Mamma kept on preparing dinner, stirring the pot, tasting and adding ingredients and he slipped his massive dong back into his underwear as though nothing had happened. Maybe this was just a normal evening at the Giordano residence.

"Jesus fucking christ," gasped Malcolm." I do not fucking believe it..."

"I told you... he said it was like this," said Liam, "but I didn't think it'd be so..."

The two boys were as dumbstruck as me.

Franky walked up to the big glass doors in front of us and slid them wide open. He stood at the door, searching around until he spotted his friends. After a quick check to make sure mamma wasn't looking, he gave them a little wave and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'oh well... what can you do?'.

We heard his mother's loud voice immediately.

"Francesco you let'a the mosquito in," she yelled in the broken English and heavy Italian accent of someone who has it as a second language.

"No mosquitoes ma," shouted the handsome young man, plopping down on the sofa. "It's a beautiful night and we should let it in a little."

"Ahh you never listens your mamma," came his mothers reply in mock exasperation.

"Come and sit with me ma," he called turning on the television. "The Bold and the Beautiful is coming on."

"Yes, yes, yes, un momento."

When things were under control in the kitchen the big busty woman came over and sat her voluptuous bulk down beside her son on the lounge. His slim muscular body was in stark contrast to his big fleshy mother.

The dark rectangle of a television set was sitting off to one side so we could see them both right in front of us watching it, lying comfortably on the sofa as if they were on a little stage.

Sylvia's loose blousy dress had ridden right up her fat thighs. The massive swell of her tits was spilling out over the top of her almost completely unbuttoned blouse and her big nipples were sticking out through the fabric in sharp relief.

As the familiar theme music started playing, Franky stretched out beside her and slid a hand down the front of his wide-fronts.

Occasionally I caught her glancing at her son's body instead of watching her show. Lingering looks at the rippling muscles of his abdomen and the thick polish sausage he was fondling in his white underpants.

On the TV I could hear Ridge demanding the truth from Katie. On the red sofa, Sylvia Giordano let her son put his arm around her waist and rest his handsome head on her bare shoulder.

She pretended disinterest when he put his other hand on her lap. And she didn't seem to mind when he rubbed her big potbelly. Nor when the inquisitive hand stroked the top of her big meaty thigh - over her knee and under her skirt...

They both stared at the television but neither was watching. Franky's big cock was hard and pulsing, tenting the front of his underpants.

Sylvia closed her eyes briefly. The hand between her legs must have found her pussy.

"Mmm tesoro..." she sighed to herself, spreading her big thickset legs apart, enough that he could get better access.

"Why don't you l...lay b... back and relax mamma?" suggest Franky in a husky tone.

"Yessa, ok Franky," she said shimmying down on the lounge cushions. "Thatsa nice..."

They continued the television charade even though her skirt was now bunched up around her waist and he was combing her forest of thick curly pubic hair with his fingers.

His free hand was all over her. Up and down her inner thighs, then back to rubbing her big meaty pussy. The lips of her cunt became more and more stimulated and swollen, spread apart like a butterfly. I could see right up inside her, glistening wet and red.

When her son slid his three fingers inside her she arched her body.

"Ahhh... balisima... amore... Francisco..." she groaned, running her fingers through his curly black hair.

"Ohhh fuck Mal...," whispered Liam.

I saw my boys look briefly at each other and then reach for each other's cocks. With practiced ease they started jerking each other off.

They were quite good at it. Side by side, an arm crossed over and another under, they were perfectly synchronized.

Quite clearly this was not new territory for them. I squirmed over my buzzing toy, playing it back and fourth over my trembling erect clitoris, not sure where to look.

"Can I see you boobs now please mamma," I heard Franky implore his mamma.

The look on her face was priceless. She was still staring intently at the screen pretending interest in her TV show but she was licking her lips and her abdomen was moving against the fingers inside her cunt.

"Please mamma?"

"Oh yess, yess..." she hissed, pretending to be irritated.

She undid those last few buttons that were holding back her great big soft boobs and they tumbled like an avalanche down over her stomach. Tantalizing big dark nipples sat in the middle of large bronze colored areolae, like bread and butter plates, capping the ends of her tits.

Franky buried his face in them like he wanted to drown in there.

He suckled his mothers teats like a little baby, taking one huge nipple and then the other in his mouth. Mrs. Giordano's performance began to fail.

The sensation of her son sucking her nipples, coupled with his clever ministrations between her legs was sending Sylvia over the edge.

"Ahhh Francesco," she sighed." What you doin' your mamma?"

"Relax mamma," said the boy moistening a big red nipple with his tongue. "Watch your show and let Franky make you feel good."

"Si, si... oooooo mmmmmMMMMM..."

A massive orgasm rocked her body. She shook and cried out like a woman possessed.

"Oh Franc... esco... " she cried, humping against his hand. "OOOO SI... SI... SI..."

"AHHHHH MYA FRANCESCO..."

The silly television show was forgotten as a great gush of cum juices squirted out of her convulsing pussy. Franky removed his hand and the stream sprayed out hard and strong like a fire hose, spraying out everywhere, onto the tiles, over the glass and out through the doors to splash over the ecstatic boys ten feet away.