The Breast Machine

She was scratching his side. It became urgent, shaking him from a trance. He looked to his side to find her mother digging her nails into him.

"Please!" she uttered, just the one word.

She too was playing with herself. Less frantically than her daughter. A hand went back to pinching her swollen nipples. Knowing it had to be done, he slid over to Mrs Jones, onto her, between her legs. She too grasped his cock, almost pulling it off in a hurry to have it.

She didn't wrap her legs around him, instead she spread them wide. She already had a pillow under her hips. He thrust in, preparing to go wild, and hump her hard. She grabbed his hips in both hands, digging her nails in to his soft flesh. She guided him for long, slow strokes.

Her vagina engulfed his cock, gripping it tight. He hadn't come to terms with the situation, so again he was distant, less involved, less carried away than he would normally have been. He let her guide his hips, to her own rhythm.

The long deep strokes meant he felt every sensation. When pushing into her body she quivered. Her vagina tightened on his cock during the long outward journey, as though not wanting to lose it. A deep penetration, which she pressed home and held, had her whole body quivering. The orgasm was a gentle deep ripple.

He thought he felt her orgasm. She lay still. No longer pulling on him. She must be free of that dreadful turmoil which drove them both to such extreme behaviour. He didn't want to stop now, but knew she would push him away.

Jane looked sideways at her daughter. Seeing her deeply asleep, Jane pushed his hips up, and sharply pulled him down hard.

"Fuck me John, fuck me hard," she moaned. Still in the throes of a gentle orgasm, she wanted more. The first orgasm was necessary. This time it was for the pure pleasure of it.

Guiding him with both hands gripping his ass, digging her nails in to reinforce the demands, she had him energetically pumping up and down. He soon got the rhythm. He hammered home time and time again. She bit her lip, trying not to wail. Her sex face was a screwed up mess.

"Fuck me harder, John. Faster! Harder. Pound me with your big cock," she encouraged him.

Having held back for so long it was taking him a long time to orgasm. He was out of breath, sucking in air, wheezing loudly. He was young and strong, able to perform. He pounded her hard, now lost to anything, but the need to cum.

He had successfully avoided an orgasm with Sabrina. There had been some confused thinking, about it not being right to take advantage. To spurt his load into her mother, would be even more disreputable.

Now he was too far gone to care. His instincts took over. The one aim in life was to sow his seed. A deep lunge was the last. He held his cock deep inside, sowing, planting, spurting his sperm deep into her body. His cock twitched with every shot. He didn't feel her orgasm, or hear her joy.

"Fill me up with your spunk! Fill my body with your sperm," she moaned.

She convulsed under his weight, thrilled at being engulfed by a strong, handsome young man. She imagined his powerful sperm invading her body, welcoming it.

She too must have dozed for a few moments. He was still on top of her, a dead weight, dribbling down her neck. When she opened her eyes, she saw her daughter; thankfully still asleep. She didn't move for a awhile, wondering what to do.

His cock was pressed between them; soft against her thigh. Her breasts were still huge, and the pillow had her at an awkward angle. She tried to move him, but he was too heavy. She was trapped under her daughter's naked boyfriend! She cut short a dangerous giggle, in case it became a loud hysterical laugh.

It had been the only way out, making him take them both. Remembering the second orgasm left her feeling bad. Thinking how good it was, left her feeling naughty, and she smiled.

He would have to be woken up before Sabrina, and seriously talked to. He was a sensible young man, so maybe it wouldn't be too awful.