North Shore Santa Whore

He pulled back, leaving just the head of his cock hidden in her anus, and squirted more lubricant along his shaft. His fingers went to work on her clit as he slammed back into her asshole.

"Ooohhh fuuuuuck!" Mrs. Morgan moaned, her distended nipples pulsing with the competing spectacles of her smoldering clit being manipulated and her tender asshole being pummeled. She arched her back off the coffee table and jerked her undulating pelvis at the young man, forcing his thick shaft deeper.

Dan bent over Mrs. Morgan's quivering frame, his hands gripping her sweaty shoulders, holding her in place as his fat cock continued its assault on her battered asshole.

She groaned at the sudden absence of pressure on her engorged clit, but her fingers soon replaced his, the bright red nails but a blur as they danced across the sore protrusion.

Dan dropped his chin to look between them and his cock pulsed. The image of his veiny cock slicing in and out of his best friend's mother's asshole while her diamond-encrusted fingers manipulated her own clit was almost too much, and he felt his balls tighten as they swung against Mrs. Morgan's asscheeks.

Her gleaming eyes followed his gaze and a smirk formed on her gleaming lips.

"Like what you see, young man?" she inquired needlessly.

"Mm-hm," he whimpered. He released his grip on the woman's shoulders and his strong fingers closed around her nipples, twisting them lightly.

"Like burying that fat . . . young . . . cock . . . in Mrs. Morgan's . . . ASSHOLE?" she spat, clenching her ass around the young man's invading shaft.

"Uuuggghhh," he grunted as he felt her asshole tighten around his girth, sweat now dripping off his nose. He nearly toppled over backward, but his fingers remained locked on Mrs. Morgan's inflamed nipples, tugging them violently.

Mrs. Morgan yelped at the excruciating pain but her dripping cunt moistened further, easing the friction of her manicured fingers as they continued to speed back and forth over her abused clit. She wrapped her quivering legs around the young man, supple heels again prodding him on, forcing him deeper. Her ass lifted off the coffee table and Dan released her nipples, clamping her quaking thighs against his chest once again.

Her overinflated tits rolled up her torso toward her chin and Mrs. Morgan's dripping fingers abandoned her spasming cunt for her sore nipples, her feminine juices soothing the raw teats. As the bright red nails closed around the inflamed buds, she clenched her asshole again drawing a groan from deep within Dan's throat.

The violent pistoning of his hips grew erratic, as did his breath. His eyes screwed shut and his balls lurched beneath him.

"Cum . . . for . . . me . . . pervert," Mrs. Morgan panted. "Cum . . . all over . . . my . . . slut . . . body!"

"Oh gawd o gawd o fuck."

His body jerked once and then again. He abruptly pulled his hips back, tearing the blood-engorged cock from Mrs. Morgan's now-gaping asshole. He shoved the quivering shaft up the channel of her cunt, the hardened nub of her clit coursing along the underside of his shaft.

Mrs. Morgan's hands flew between them, two fingers dipping into the saturated folds of her sodden cunt. She fished the strand of pearls from deep within her and quickly wrapped it around the length of Dan's pulsing shaft. Her left fist closed around the meaty tube, the fingers of her right gently massaging his hanging nut sac.

Gasping for breath, Dan leaned back on his haunches and looked between their two sweaty bodies. Mrs. Morgan's tightly gripping fist raced up and down his twitching, oily cock, the bright red nails and obscene diamond contrasting smudges. Her slender fingers forced the pearls against his flesh, into the sensitive underside at the base of his shaft, rolling back and forth.

"Oh fuck," he croaked. "Gonna . . . cum!"

Mrs. Morgan's neck strained as she kept her head elevated off the coffee table. Her bright eyes, hooded in lust, gazed between her wobbling, bloated cleavage to the smooth cockhead aimed directly up her body, poised to fire a bullet of cum right into her mouth.

"Shoot . . . that cum . . . all . . . over . . . me!" she demanded. "Cover me with it!"

She groaned as the slit at the apex of the young man's cock winked open, followed not a moment later by a thick rope of sperm that flew up her body, casting a line of pearlescent fluid from her belly button to the bottoms of her trembling tits.

Her elegant fingers brutally yanked on Dan's shaft, compressing the pearls against the steaming flesh. A second jet of cum was spit from the fat cock, flying through the air and splattering against her stomach and the underside of the store-bought monsters mounted to her heaving chest.

Dan's muscular body spasmed as a third stream of sperm spewed from his cockhead, pooling on Mrs. Morgan's taut, tanned stomach, filling her belly button. Her fingers desperately tugged at the trembling shaft and he shuddered as a final glob of cum leaked from the slit at the head of his cock, falling to her hairless cunt with an audible plop.

Dan collapsed against the couch, the strand of pearls unwinding from his slimy shaft and clattering to the floor between his knees. "Fuckin' incredible," he breathed, wiping sweat from his brow as his breathing began to slow.

Donna Morgan remained prone on the table, elegant manicured fingers of one hand lazily tracing circles in the young man's cum that coated her wobbling tits, the other gently tweaking a still hardened nipple.

"Like I said, Merry Christmas, pervert," she intoned.

* * *

Dan rolled his head toward the bathroom door as it cracked open.

"What are doing up?" she scowled, a look of scorn crossing her freshly scrubbed face. She eased through the doorway, a large white bath sheet wrapped around her trim torso, concealing her bulging tits.

"Morning to you."

She rolled her bright blue eyes but decided to ignore his sarcasm. "Did I hear a phone?"

"Mm-hm."

She merely raised an eyebrow, pausing to lean against the doorframe. She crossed her arms beneath the store-bought balloons that had been bolted to her chest; her nipples, thickened as always, mounded the fabric.

"Steve," Dan responded to her unasked question.

She nodded her head curtly, a bead of water releasing from a few stray strands of platinum before coursing down her collarbone and disappearing beneath the towel. "What'd he want?"

"We were supposed to go shopping this morning. To find something for Karen."

Mrs. Morgan rolled her eyes. "She's such a little slut."

Dan laughed at the irony. "You just spent the night fucking your son's best friend while your husband is stuck in an airport. So who's the true slut, Mrs. Morgan?"

She blushed at the insult. But again, it wasn't really an insult.

Dan kicked the sheets from his body, revealing his limp but growing cock resting against his thigh. A sly smile parted Mrs. Morgan's full lips and she pushed herself off the doorframe, the towel coming loose and falling to the thick carpeting.

Dan's hand felt around the side table for his Blackberry, his eyes locked on Mrs. Morgan's lush body as she sauntered across the bedroom toward him. Her swollen tits wobbled on her slight frame, the bloated nipples pointing toward him, toward her prey.

She climbed onto the bed and crawled her way up while Dan dialed the phone.

"Hey, what's up?" he said into the mouthpiece as Mrs. Morgan engulfed the head of his cock in her warm, silky mouth.

"I . . . ugh . . . I'm gonna wanna . . . wanna take a shower," he breathed, her manicured fingers massaging his full balls. "Uh . . . just buzz me when you get here . . . and I'll . . . I'll let you up . . . That cool?"

Mrs. Morgan didn't hear her son's response or Dan's. He had involuntarily bucked his cock into her wet mouth, sending the thick shaft and rubbery head to the back of her throat, triggering a gag reaction. She was catching her breath when Dan hung up the phone.

"We don't have much time, Mrs. Morgan. Wrap that fist around me and jerk me off into your slutty little mouth before your son gets here."