Mrs. America Ch. 02

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"Well, how about it?" she asked, taking his drink from his hand and tipping it into her filthy mouth.

"Uh, yeah, I think . . . uh . . . it looks like you know what uh. . . what boys like," he sputtered, watching Tracy as she placed her cup and his on the bar.

She turned back toward him and grabbed the kid's hand, pulling him behind her as she marched toward the entrance.

"Um . . . aren't you going to . . . well," he stammered. "What's . . . uh . . . your name?"

"Just call me Mrs. Texas," she shouted over her shoulder as they weaved in and out of the crowd.

"I'm . . ." he began before she abruptly came to a halt and spun on her heel. She placed a long manicured nail over his lips, shushing him.

"I don't really care who you are, got it?" she said as sweetly as possible. "Your name is not really relevant to the purpose you serve."

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and he floated on behind her, his eyes locked on the red silk skirt covering her tight ass as she sashayed through the bar toward the entrance.

When she and her boy-toy approached the two bitches, still at the bar, Tracy stopped and pulled the kid to her side. "Hey, ladies. Thought I'd say goodbye," she teased with a short wave of her elegant hand. She moved to leave, then stopped, reconsidering. "By the way, you know how long it took me to get this kid to follow me out of the bar?" she inquired, tilting her head toward her plaything.

Neither of the girls responded, other than with looks of hatred thrown toward the older, big-breasted tramp.

"No? Well let me tell you, then. Ten minutes. It took me all of ten minutes to land this hunk of meat." She laughed in mock pity for the college girls and shook her head. "Tits, girls. I know what boys like, and boys like tits. Big ones. Like these," she taunted the girls, thrusting her chest at them. She then turned and walked off, pulling the kid behind her, a pair of "Fuck yous" following in her wake.

Out on the street, Tracy slowed her pace and walked down the street with the kid at her side, holding hands as though they were lovers. She squeezed his hand in hers, her engagement ring digging into his palm. She giggled like a kid in a candy store. "This is going to be so awesome," she told the kid. He laughed, too, but there was a twinge of nervousness in his.

Five minutes later, the unlikely pair stood on the corner of Brazos and 6th, waiting for a police officer to wave them across the street.

"Hold on," the kid said. "I need to run into the Seven-Eleven."

"For what?" she asked, nonplussed at anything that might delay her treat.

He looked around, clearly embarrassed. "Rubbers," he mouthed.

Tracy tilted her head back and laughed lightly. "Rubbers?" she asked rhetorically. "You don't need any rubbers, silly." She held her ring finger in front of his face and wiggled her slim fingers. "I'm a married lady, not some common slut."

He was too intimated to argue.

The officer waved those on the corner across the street and Tracy and her toy crossed with the crowd and walked through the hotel's entrance. It was 10:00 and the lobby was largely deserted as they boarded the elevator. When the doors swished open on her floor, she led the kid down the hallway to her room and paused by the door. She fished the keycard from her clutch and handed it to him.

"You should always open the door for a lady," she said with a smile.

Nervously, he took the keycard and inserted it, his big hand shaking. When the door finally clicked, he started to push it open, but she wrapped her slender fingers around his forearms, her long, red nails digging into his young flesh, preventing him from moving into the room.

"But I have to warn you. Once I walk into that room, I'm no longer a lady." She paused, searching for understanding in his eyes. She didn't see any.

"That means you don't treat me like a lady. Got it? No tenderness. No romance. No lovey-dovey. No sleeping over. When we get in that room, you are going to fuck the living Christ out of me." He gulped at her depraved language, her filthy tongue. "You're going to stick that cock in me and abuse me with it. Any hole. All holes. I don't care. And when you're done, you're going to cum all over me. Are we clear?"

The kid could only nod his head.

"All over me, I said. Not inside me. On me. On my stomach. On my tits. On my face. I don't care. Just on me."

He nodded again, his knees weak.

"And after that, you leave. No cuddling. No spooning. You get dressed, and you leave."

When Tracy was confident that he understood his role, she released her death grip on his arm and prodded him into the suite with a tap on his rear-end. She closed the door behind her and slid the bolt lock home with a loud thud.

She strutted into the living area behind him and eased her lustful body around his, making sure her inflated tits dragged across his muscular bicep. She slid into the corner of the couch and draped one leg over the rolled arm, the other she lifted up to the back of the couch. With little shame, she lifted the little red silk skirt, exposing her pantiless and hairless crotch the kid.

She ran the manicured forefinger of her left hand down and then back up the furrow of her already slick cunt. With her nail poised just above her clit, lightly tapping it, she beckoned the kid over to the couch with her free hand. "Get over here and lick this thing," she ordered, the diamonds of her wedding band and engagement ring sparkling in the soft light cast from the lamp next to the couch.

The kid, eager to please, moved around the coffee table and fell to his knees. Draping his frame along the seat cushion, he planted light kisses along Tracy's inner thighs, following the routine he had followed so many times before with his conquests.

Tracy was having none of it. "I'm already wet for you. You don't need to seduce me," she informed him, the exasperation clear in her voice. Her finger still poised at her clit, she grabbed the back of his head with her free hand, her long nails scraping along his scalp, and guided his mouth over her clit.

Tentatively, the kid's tongue darted from between his lips and licked at her clit. Tracy jerked on the first contact of tongue to clit, sending her sopping cunt smashing into the kid's face. After a few swipes of his tongue, encouraged by Tracy's bucking, the kid's licks became more insistent. He buried his face between the married woman's thighs, his arms circling around her taut legs to brace himself -- and her -- against her penchant for slamming her cunt into his face.

Within minutes, Tracy was writhing under her toy's ministrations, moans escaping her still perfectly made-up, bright red lips. His tongue alternately slithered over her clit and sunk down between her saturated, hairless labia. Her left hand joined her right at the back of the kid's head, massaging his scalp as his tongue danced across her clit and cunt lips.

"Put a finger in me," she groaned while his tongue flicked rapidly against her inflamed bud. "Yyeess . . . that's it . . . yeah!"

She squirmed beneath the young man, his tongue dancing across her swollen clit, a finger sawing in and out of her now sloppy hole.

"Another," she squeaked when her toy trapped the clit between his lips and sucked hard. "Another." Breathless.

The kid decided to skip ahead by one play and instead of inserting a second finger into the cheating slut's hole, he added both a second and third, his fingers bending in on each other as he slowly worked them into her tight hole.

"Oohh ffuucckk," Tracy squealed at the intrusion. The kid's tongue tripped into overdrive against her clit, flattening out against it then quickly flicking back and forth before sucking the blood-engorged nub of flesh between his lips and teeth.

Tracy's squirms quickly devolved into bucks and thrashes. Her ass lifted off the seat cushion as she tried to feed her entire cunt into the kid's mouth. His three fingers remained lodged in her hole, twisting and thrusting in and out of her lips while his young tongue tortured her trembling clit.

"Uuuugggghhh!!!!" she wailed, her head thrashing from side to side. Perspiration had formed along her forehead and above her upper lip, across the top of her substantial chest, and the onslaught of her orgasm turned the somewhat lady-like perspiration into full blown sweat. As her athletic body convulsed at the hands of the young man she had only met an hour ago, sweat soaked her hair, plastering it to her forehead and cheeks. It ran down the cleavage formed by her mammoth tits, turning the black fabric of her baby-doll even darker, fat nipples insistent against the damp cotton.

Quick, sharp jerks of Tracy's hips sent her cunt crashing against the kid's face. His eyes watered as her pubic bone slammed against his nose, but he maintained his assault on the woman's cunt as it convulsed through her orgasm, her fluids flowing liberally from between her loosened lips.

As her body settled back into the couch, his tongue slowed its pace and he gradually eased his fingers from her saturated pussy.

"Whew!" she said through hooded eyes, a satisfied smile creasing the features around her sensuous mouth.

Proud, the kid pushed himself from between Tracy's legs and moved up to sit on the couch, slouching against the cushions as though he were exhausted. Next to him, she laid there for a few more minutes, allowing her heartbeat to slow and her breathing to return to normal. She pulled her right foot off the back of the couch and removed the open-toed heel from it, dropping the shoe on the floor next to her; she did the same with her left foot before rising.

Wiggling her hips, Tracy eased the silk skirt over her supple hips and taut thighs before stepping out of it. Feminine juices shined on her inner thighs as she casually tossed the skirt aside and climbed back on the couch, this time straddling the kid. She planted her groin over his, thrilled at the feeling of his young cock bulging through his cargo shorts. She bent her head and placed her full lips close to his; he came the rest of the way, softly brushing his lips against hers.

"What did I tell you?" she murmured into his mouth.

His tongue gently probed at her lips, seeking entry to the wet heat of her mouth.

She pulled back abruptly and took his chin in the palm of her hand, her bright red nails digging into his jaw line. "No gentleness. No lovey-dovey," she whispered, her face hovering less than an inch from his. "If you're going to kiss me, do it right. Do it hard. Don't wait for me to allow your tongue in my mouth. Jam it in there."

Without hesitating, her toy followed her command. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her bronzed face roughly into his, his fingers entwining in her lustrous mane. His tongue invaded her lips, slipping easily into the warmth of her mouth, tongues thrashing against each other, teeth gnashing.

"There you go," she grunted into his mouth. "Mmmmm."

Tracy moved up the young man's body, bending her neck to keep their tongues intertwined, and rotated her hairless cunt against his shirt-covered stomach, soaking it in her juices. She slid her groin back down his body, her clit catching on his belt buckle, a groan escaping from deep in her slender throat at the cool metal stimulating her overheated nub.

She continued to slide down the young body until she was on her dimpled knees before him. She pushed him back into the couch, their mouths separating. She dragged her slender fingers down his developing chest, tweaking his nipples between her manicured fingers along the way.

Lifting his tee-shirt out of the way, she used her nails to coax his belt from the buckle, her sparkling emerald eyes locked on her manipulating fingers.

"Why Mrs. Texas?" the kid breathed while Tracy pulled the prong from the hole in the belt.

Her bright eyes rose to meet his. "Why what?" she asked, pulling the tongue of the belt from the buckle.

"Why Mrs. Texas?" he repeated. "Why do you want me to call you Mrs. Texas?"

A lecherous grin clouded her features. "Because I am," she answered, pulling the button of his shorts from the hole. "Because I AM Mrs. Texas."

His zipper descending broke the calm silence of the suite, the only sound aside from her still erratic breaths.

"I don't get it," he pressed, lifting his hips off the seat cushion as Tracy pulled his shorts -- and the boxers along with them -- down his ass and over his thighs.

"It's a beauty pageant," she answered, yanking the shorts and boxers over his knees and down his calves, pulling his shoes off.

"For married women," she continued, her eyes floating up to the thick cock that stood proudly from the kid's groin.

Resting on her haunches, Tracy's hands slid slowly up the kid's thighs, her nails tickling the light hairs that covered his flesh. She used her right hand to push his left thigh to the side while her left hand moved up and cradled his heavy balls. Her focus was intense as she kneaded the sac between her slender fingers, dragging her nails across the soft, tender flesh.

She wrapped her hand around his balls, then slid her fist up his shaft. A sly smile appeared at her lips when her tightly gripping fingers reached the crown of his cock and a thick glob of pre-cum oozed from the head. She used the soft pad of her forefinger to smooth the natural lubricant around the head, dragging it back down the length of his shaft.

"And you . . . oh god . . . you won?" he asked, nestling himself into the back of the couch.

"Yeah . . . I won," she responded, her voice barely audible. Her eyes never strayed from the veiny shaft. She lifted herself off her haunches, moving her pretty, tanned face over the purple head of his cock.

"And you're about . . . to get your cock sucked," she began, dipping her head and running her soft tongue up one side of his shaft, "by the perfect . . . Texas wife."

Tracy chuckled inwardly at the irony of that pronouncement. Earlier this year, a group of judges had anointed her Mrs. Texas, the embodiment of all that should be expected of a Texan wife: a doting mother of her children; a pillar of the community; active in social issues important to Texas; and, above all, a loving and faithful wife.

Yet here she was, in downtown Austin, her husband at home a short drive to the northwest. She had just allowed a stranger -- a college kid, no less -- to lick and fingerfuck her to a mind-shattering orgasm and now she was on her knees about to engulf his thick cock in her warm mouth, her wedding band flashing in his face.

Tracy's shiny lips parted into a rough oval and she slipped them over the thick, superheated head of her toy's cock. With just the head ensconced in her warm, wet mouth, she swirled her tongue around it, poking at the slit at its apex.

"Oohh ggaawwdd," the kid groaned as Tracy's right hand slithered beneath his thighs to cradle and knead his sperm-filled balls. With the sac gripped tightly in her fist, she lowered her soft, full lips over the length of his shaft again. When the head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat, she gagged slightly, but wiggled her head a little, coaxing the head into her throat.

"Uunngghh," he whimpered as Tracy swallowed, her throat constricting around his shaft. His strong hands clutched at the cushions, his knuckles turning white.

Her eyes watered and she quickly pulled her spit-soaked lips up the length of the college student's shaft, sucking air into her lungs. Her left hand encircled the slick cock, stroking it harshly, while she caught her breath. She dipped her head between his thighs and, releasing her hand's grip on his balls, sucked one and then the other into her hot, wet mouth, rolling his nuts around on the edge of her tongue.

Overcome with lust, with the sinfulness of her conduct, Tracy buried her face in the kid's groin. She inhaled deeply the scent of his sweaty flesh, shoving her face into his taut nutsack, slobbering over it, saliva pouring from her mouth as her tongue sought to bathe the baby-soft flesh.

Above her, the kid squirmed on the couch. His eyes were locked on the blur created by her bright red nails and sparkling engagement ring as her left fist shucked up and down the length of him. The head of his cock shone bright, all purple and shiny and smooth.

Tracy lowered her head further, her right hand pulling the cum-laden balls aside, and her tongue tickled at his perineum.

He jumped at the sensation, caught off-guard by the foreign sensation. Unfamiliar as it was, he welcomed it, savored the sensations that ran through his cock and his balls, that turned his stomach upside down and inside out.

"Uuuugggghhhh!" he groaned when the tip of Tracy's tongue massages the ridges of his perineum. His left hand released its death-grip on the cushion and wrapped itself in her hair, holding her beauty-queen face deep in his sweat and saliva soaked crotch. But he wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Her raven locks gripped fiercely in her toy's fist, pulling her adulterous face against his hanging balls, Tracy's silky tongue darted from between her sweet lips and wetly washed over the student's asshole.

"Aaaahhhh!!!" he nearly yelped, his fat cock throbbing in her tightly gripping fist. His balls tightened and jumped against her sweaty cheek before she quickly withdrew her tongue, pulling it back into the warm cavern of her mouth.

"Uugghh," the kid grunted, aching for release. "What are doin' to me?" His voice was almost a whine.

Tracy laughed lightly as she regained her feet. She tossed one leg over his lap, straddling his sturdy thighs. Slowly, she squatted down on him. Peering between her massive breasts, her bright eyes locked on the blood-engorge head of his cock resting against his stomach. She adjusted her hips slightly, positioning her dripping cunt above the fat tube of flesh, and lowered herself further, trapping the shaft in the overheated channel formed by her hairless labia.

Her hips rotating sensuously, she glided the slick lips of her cunt up and down the length of the kid's shaft, saturating it in her juices. The thick, rubbery head rubbed across her clit with each movement and she braced herself against his chest, her bright red nails gathering the cotton of his tee-shirt in her fists.

Before an orgasm overtook her, Tracy slowed her movement and roughly yanked the tee-shirt up and over his stomach and then his chest. "Come on, lean forward," she commanded the kid impatiently.

Awkwardly, he pushed himself away from the back of the couch and Tracy pulled the shirt over his head. She then leaned her lithe body against his, her blown-up tits still encased in the red silk bra and black baby doll. Her fingers wrapped around the back of his head, nails scraping against his scalp.

"Wanna drink from Mrs. Texas's milk jugs?" she taunted the college student, smashing one of her milk-jug covered fake tits into his face. Without waiting for a response, she leaned back, sitting upright on his lap, his cock ensconced in the slick, hot folds of her cunt, and reached behind her. Her hands disappeared beneath the baby doll and emerged a moment later pulling her 36D bra from beneath the tee-shirt.

Tracy leaned over the young man again, her now-braless tits hanging in his face. Her right hand roughly grabbed the back of his head, clutching his short-cropped hair. "Come on, boy-toy," she whispered wickedly, "take a sip."

The kid hesitated for a moment, again unbalanced by this woman's brazen recklessness. She took his hands in hers and placed them at the hem of the baby doll, coaxing him to lift it.

Taking the cue, the kid slowly raised the fabric over Tracy's stomach, dragging it up and over her rib cage. He struggled to pull it over her augmented tits, resorting to pulling the fabric toward him in an attempt to clear the inflated globes of saline-packed flesh. Tracy leaned into him again as soon as the shirt rose over the thickened nipples.