The Housewife From Hell

Before he knew what was happening, he was falling to his side. Amber quickly got up and knelt between his spread thighs. He looked up and saw her beautiful brown hair spilling forward, her lips clamping over his shaft. Her head bobbed up and down as she worshipped the thickness of his tool. He closed his eyes and let her deliver wet, sucking cock action. Once again, his hot lava crept out of his stalk. He cried out just before he felt her thumb press against him. Moaning feverishly, he felt his jizz going back to his balls.

Amber pumped his swollen pole eagerly. His balls were cupped in her hands. Her soft lips slid up and down his greased cock, saturating him with her hotness and sizzling his flesh. Pausing, she rested and fondled his throbbing prick head with her lips and tongue, making the entire stalk tremble and quiver. Her tongue once again swirled across the shiny dome while her hands, fastened tightly around the base of his cock, held his limb in position.

She fucked him gently for the next few minutes. After a while, he began to relax. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again he gasped and saw the beautiful woman lowering herself onto his thighs, her intimate flesh wet, musky, dripping.

Reaching down between her thighs, Amber grasped the thick limb, rubbing the very tip against her moist snatch and panting heavily. Michael's head rolled from side to side. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. The insatiable woman lowered herself and soon felt the warm head of Michael's cock pressing against the creamy lips of her steamy slit. With a heave, she pushed herself roughly downwards and felt the greased shaft working its way all the way up her hot tube.

Michael winced and moaned. Christ, he thought. The woman's cunt is hot enough to fry a fuckin' egg! Groaning, he shifted uneasily and enjoyed the feeling of Amber's hot juicy hole enveloping his cock.

It wasn't long before she began writhing over him.

Her labia rubbed against the length of his tool, drenching his cock and balls with her juices. Arching her back, Amber reached up and pushed the hair from her eyes. Her pussy stroked, she sucked his cock, her vaginal muscles clamping around him and pulling him into her intimate sponge.

Michael kept his hands at her breasts, rubbing them, pulling them, squeezing the cherry nipples. The brunette rode him wildly, her hips pounding against him. She pummeled her groin against his prick, her ass slapping him on the thighs. She took his balls in her hands. Suddenly she squeezed them and made him wince from the pain. Laughing, she sucked in his engorged prick, using gentle and subtle movements, and bathing it once again with throat honey.

Michael couldn't take any more. He had no intention of winning a medal. He just wanted to get laid. He reached up and, taking Amber by the shoulders, pulled her down beside him. Before she could protest, he knelt between her thighs, lifted up her legs, and slammed his rammer up her box. The brunette trembled. She reached up and pulled him down on her. His head was buried between her tits. She wrapped her legs around his ass and locked her ankles together. He felt her pulling his cock into her cavity.

For the next five minutes, Michael pumped her wildly, ramming her oily mouth and slamming his cock all the way to her cervix. Amber was writhing and panting. Her arms and legs lashed out wildly, slamming against him. She raked his back with her long fingernails, making him wince. All the while, her vaginal muscles tightened and loosened spasmodically around his throbbing limb.

Suddenly he shot his load inside her, causing her to jerk and pound her gash brutally against his spurting engine. Eight angry jolts of thick semen penetrated her, filling her up and causing her tubes to gush hotly. Her cunt sucked him dry, until he went limp with a weak groan.

He fell to her side, panting and heaving in exhaustion.

Giggling, Amber jumped up from the bed.

"Christ!" she squealed, padding to the bathroom. "I've been wanting a fuck like that for ages!" She needed a shower.

Chapter 3

Drying herself off, Amber walked backed to the bedroom.

Michael wasn't there. She noticed that his clothes were not in the room. For Chrissakes, she thought angrily. Is one lousy screw all I'm gonna get?

He was in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and sipping a drink from the bottle on the counter. He smiled at her naked body and then noticed that she was angry. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"You couldn't be wanting more, could you? I mean, after a performance like that..."

"I'm horny!" she explained. "Why the hell did you follow me here, anyway? I thought you wanted to fuck too!"

He shrugged. "I did. But what about your old man? When's he getting back?"

"Just forget about my old man," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "We still have nearly an hour left. Let's not waste it, for Chrissakes."

Picking her up, Michael laid her down on the kitchen table. She just looked up at him and waited for him to do more. Her legs were dangling over the edge of the table. Suspecting what was going to happen, Amber spread eagled her arms and gasped the corners of the table. Then she closed her eyes and waited.

Kneeling on the floor between her spread thighs, Michael soon discovered that he was at the perfect height. Moving closer to the edge of the table, he licked his lips and began tickling and fondling Amber's pussy and clit with his tongue. The brunette wiggled, shaking the table. She parted her thighs farther and moaned when Michael rested his hands on her warm thighs.

He tongued her ferociously, his tongue lapping up the pussy milk, beating her insides. Amber kicked and, groaning, popped her rocks in his face. Michael fingered her hole until she popped again and again.

When be thought she was ready to be fucked, Michael picked her up and let her rest on the table. Her legs still dangled over the edge. She wrapped her arms around him and they kissed deeply. Then he lifted her up and waited until she had wrapped her legs around his waist. When she had locked her ankles just above his ass, he wrapped his arms around her waist. They kissed again. Amber's arms tightened around his neck. She felt him rubbing the lips of her quivering gash with his fingers, and she moaned. Her titties were mashed against his chest.

Wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock, Michael pressed the tip against the lips of her wet snatch. Amber immediately pounded herself against him, and her pussy lips swallowed his cock whole. In one motion, she thrust her lower body downwards. Squealing in delight, she felt the hot meat sliding up her tube. Struggling in his arms, she pounded out fresh pussy milk and waited for him to completely fill her insides.

Then she was jumping on him wildly, like a bronco rider. Her swollen pussy raced up and down his throbbing rod. Her screams were loud in his ears. He tightened his grip around her, felt her strong cunt muscles fastening around his affair, and gasped each time her pussy swallowed his dick in one greedy gulp.

With her dancing on his prick, Michael walked over to the doorway. Amber felt her back rubbing against the wall. She sucked in her breath and pounded herself even more brutally on his swollen cock. Michael just closed his eyes, held her by the waist, and felt his lava erupting, his sizzling balls burning.

Amber began to twitch and quiver in his arms. Her ass pounded, and her slit dripped cream over his thighs. Michael watched her titties as they bounced everywhere. He buried his face in their softness and took hold of a thick, cherry nipple with his teeth. The brunette nearly jumped three feet in the air. Her scream was so loud that it made him wince. He felt her rocks popping again and again, but he did not release the thick nipple. He continued sucking it and biting it while the woman pounded her gushing honey hole onto his swollen tube.

A minute later, Michael's rod flushed her tube with a second blast. Amber went crazy, moving her hips and cunt on him like a jackhammer and pounding her titties in his face. She felt his balls slapping her in the ass. Crying out, the brunette sprayed his spurting snake with honey water again and again, until she went limp in his arms.

She woke up in her bedroom. Michael was already dressed. When he saw that she was up, he sat down on the edge of the bed, bent over, and kissed her on the lips.

"You're not leaving yet," she said, hoping he wasn't.

"I'm just getting started," he told her.

She looked at him. "You're not just putting me on, are you?"

"Nope. How often does the average guy find a pussy as lovely as yours?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. How often?"

"Once in a lifetime."

He put on his coat. "Is your number in the phone book?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm on Facebook ..." She handed him a card.

He bent over and kissed her. "I'll be in touch," he said.

Then he left the house.

Chapter 4

Amber, as usual, had dinner alone that night. Harold had not come home yet. She had known better than to expect a phone call. Harold never called her to tell her that he'd be late.

She didn't care. She was so used to this treatment that, if Harold did act differently, she would think something was wrong. It wasn't his fault really. It was just the way Harold was.

After she cleaned up the kitchen, Amber took a long, cool showed, washed her hair, and lay down in bed. Half an hour later, she began to fall asleep.

An hour later, Harold came home.

She awoke to see him undressing a few feet from the bed. "You just get home?" she asked groggily.

He turned around and looked at her. "Didn't mean to wake you up," he said.

"That's all right." Amber lay back down and closed her eyes.

"Anything exciting happen today?" he asked, getting into bed beside her.

"Nope. Nothin' you'd be interested in."

"Same old thing, huh?" He yawned and lay down. "Night."

"Yeah." For the next fifteen minutes, Amber watched the heavy, motionless form of her sleeping husband. Then she suddenly found herself growing angry. "Bastard," she said, tossing the sheet off and getting up. She went into the bathroom to change.

"Bastard," she repeated angrily as she dressed. "I'm getting' hornier while the only thing he ever gets is fatter!"

Chapter 5

Michael was standing just inside the doorway as she entered the lounge. She just couldn't believe it. Suddenly she felt as though she had been waiting for this moment for years.

He led her over to a sofa against the wall, and they sat down. It was a dimly lit area.

Amber couldn't wait any longer. She groped for his trousers, removing the belt and then pulling down his zipper. Michael stirred and shifted on the couch. Leaning back, he watched the brunette as she went down on his throbbing tool. It didn't take Amber very long to get the cock hard. It was only moments before she felt it throbbing with blood. Grinning in delight, the brunette swallowed the joint in one gulp and pushed her face down, until her lips were rubbing against his pubic hair. He squirmed and felt the tip of his dong pressing against the back of her throat. Amber sucked in her breath. The prick grew even larger in her mouth. She grabbed his nuts and massaged them while she pulled him deeper inside her mouth. Michael shuddered and felt his heart thumping in his chest.

Her head began moving in a fast, up-and-down motion on his dick. Her lips rubbed against him as he went in and out. Michael felt the brunette's tongue slapping him on the very tip as his big tool entered her juicy mouth.

They needed to get out of the lounge and he told her he'd drive her home. She was fingering herself as he drove his car, careful not to exceed the speed limit. It was only minutes before they were back at her place. She held herself off, enjoying the delicious agony, wanting to come, her hairy sex soaked.

Bending over her, Michael untied the strap that held the bra over her titties. Amber's jugs when freed of the cloth, sprang outwards. The brunette reached down, pulled down her skirt, and wriggled out of it. She kicked off her shoes and resumed working on Michael's hot prong.

Moments later, he pulled her off his shaft, picked her up, and laid her facedown on the couch, with her legs dangling over the arm of the couch. She twisted around to see what he was up to. Placing his forearm beneath her waist, Michael lifted her up and made her rest her shins on the arm of the couch. Then he released his grip on her, reached between her legs, and began to finger her moist slit, clit, and asshole.

Amber pounded her ass into his face. She grasped hold of the other couch arm and held on for better support. The position caused her back to arch. Her titties were pressed against the cushions of the couch. She buried her face into the cushions, wriggled sensuously.

Then he stood up and took off his clothing. He eyed the beautiful, naked woman and felt his cock stirring and trembling. Amber's ass was sticking in the air. Her cunt and asshole were exposed, ready for the taking.

Michael bent over, jammed two fingers into the brunette's rosehole, grasped the throbbing clit, and pressed his lips firmly against her wet honey tube. Amber groaned deeply and felt the storms beginning to take hold of her. Her squeals were muffled against the cushions. She pressed herself more tightly against him and slapped her steamy twat into his face.

Then she felt his prick separating the lips of her crack. It split her apart, climbed inside, slid all the way up her tube. She squealed, hammered herself against him, and sprinkled milk. The lips of her pussy clamped over his tool. While he waited for her to relax, he rubbed the globes of her ass and fingered her inflamed clit.

Moments later, he was jabbing her with his cock. He pushed it in slowly, let it linger inside a while, and pulled it back out. His cock was laced with slit honey. Michael heard her groaning and sputtering on the couch. She squirmed on the couch, her arms and legs thrashing. He continued fucking her pussy. Without warning, he pulled out of her, spread the globes of her ass apart, and stuffed his big reamer into her tender, unsuspecting pucker.

Amber popped her rocks four times in quick succession. Wailing, she tensed her body. Michael reached down beneath her and jammed his thumb into her throbbing hole. Screaming, the brunette shot off her guns again and again, until the arm of the couch was drenched with juice.

His prick assaulted her asshole with short, unhurried jabs. His palms rested on the cheeks of her ass. He felt her tensing and then relaxing. Then he heard her groaning again, and her skin grew red and warm. Amber popped once more and then relaxed on the couch.

Then he pulled out of her and waited for her to recover. Amber lay moaning and writhing on the couch. She tried to twist around and see what he was doing next, but it was too late. Michael had already pulled apart the lips of her pussy, pushed himself forward, and rammed his cock up her greasy gash.

Amber wriggled beneath him, her legs trembling violently. Her heart was racing. Suddenly it hammered in her chest, making her explode until she finally passed out.

Michael pulled out of her, picked her up, and laid her on her back. Then he went into the kitchen and fixed drinks for both of them. By the time be came back into the living room, Amber was stirring and trying to sit up.

"What the hell do you have in that thing of yours?" she asked. "A stick of dynamite?"

He laughed. For the next five minutes, they sat, drinking and smoking in silence.

Amber, finishing her drink, got up and went to the bathroom. She was in there barely two minutes before Michael walked in, picked her up from the john, and draped her, face-down, over the edge of the tub.

"Can't you wait five minutes?" she asked, giggling.

"Shut up," he said, laughing and positioning her legs so that they were spread.

His cock was already rock-hard. He pulled her pussy apart and shoved it brutally inside her. So brutally, in fact, that Amber cried out. Trembling, she submitted to his hard thrusts.

His prick hammered into her roughly. He felt her cunt walls pulling apart with his thrusts. Her hot juices sprayed his cock. She sucked him inside, rubbed her ass sensuously against him, and rotated her hips. Amber hammered again and again. Suddenly Michael's cock sprayed her insides. Giggling, she sucked every drop up her juicy pink crack and felt his erupting balls rattling against her aroused clit.

Michael gasped and collapsed on lop of her. He lay heaving and breathing heavily on her back. Moments later, he got up, pulled her up to a standing position, and set her down on the john.

A few minutes later, she joined him on the couch.

"I'm gonna have to be getting myself together," she said, sipping her drink. "Harold likes his dinner waiting when he gets home."

"Oh, fuck him," growled Michael, frowning. "Let him fix his own dinner."

Amber laughed. "He'd starve to death!"

Chapter 6

When Michael reached home his mother was waiting for him. She always waited for him. She was a good Catholic and dressed like a good Catholic. She wore proper clothes at home, a house dress with buttons down the front. She was proud of her big solid bottom so her dress was knee length. Her thick thighs were muscular. As much as she looked at herself in the mirror she always reminded herself that she was a good Catholic, but with needs.

Her pussy was hairy, and the thick flaps fascinated her. It also fascinated the women from choir who kept her company in her quiet times when she was alone and her mind flittered her and there but mostly here, right where her hand rested between her legs. It was exactly the right length she giggled to her self. It was throbbing and she wiped it with a damp velvet cloth. The wiping was a tease kind of wipe, just around her thick labia and her clit stiffened from the action. Her clit was oversized, pink and when aroused was almost two inches long. Her intimate parts were always needy, needing rubbing, touching, tugging until finally she popped into one of a series of orgasms. That's how it was for a mature woman, she was close to squirting on the bed and she was hoping Michael would be home soon.

She looked up at him as he entered the living room. She was sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked him.

His hair was ruffled and he looked like shit, maybe he got into a fight. His shirt was wrinkled, and his tie was missing.

"Hi, Mom, yeah ..."

"Well, you look like hell. Pardon my French ..."

"I met a girl, and we had a couple of drinks ..."

"What do you need a girl for? You're going to be a priest ..."

Silence.

"I give you everything you need, right? I'm your mother and I give you more than any other woman would ever give you ..."

"Yeah, I know ..."

"Did you fool around with her? I know you have the hots for anything in a skirt. I know how you are!"

"I'm not that bad ..."

She looked over at his pants. At his crotch. It wasn't hard.

"You're usually hard when you come home. I know you've been messing' around with a woman."

He tried to avoid eye contact.

"I'm enough woman for you, Michael. You know that ..."

He looked at his shoes.

"Michael, look at me when I'm talking ..."

He looked up at her.

She had unbuttoned the front of her housedress. Her heavy breasts were providing good cleavage. She had a broad curving belly and the bottom of her navel displayed thick dark hair.

Usually her boobs set him on fire, but he was drained, at least temporarily. Maybe later.

She caught the look in his eye, the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at her. He wasn't dead, he was still very much alive.