Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20
Exploring Mrs MilkerExploring Mrs Miller Note – this story is about two English boys and the drunk mother of one of them. As such you will find a few English phrases as the boys use English expressions and names. For American etc readers:-Mum = MomFanny = cuntKnickers = pantiesThis story is almost certainly a work of total fictionI had my first fuck when I was just turned …well……I shouldn’t say just how young but I was young and innocent.,Most guys get their first experiences with their girlfriends the same age but mine was with the mother of a school friend – and he was watching and encouraging me at the time. Here’s how it came about.Bobby Miller was new at my school and had come to live just a few streets away. I’d always been a bit of a loner and Bobby was a similar character. When we discovered a shared interest in comic books we quickly became friends so it was odd that, although he’d been to my house several times after school, I’d never been invited back to his home. After a couple of weeks I felt I knew him well enough to suggest we went to his place to hang out and when he said it wasn’t a good idea I asked why not? That’s when he told me about how his home life was. Seems Bobby’s dad had disappeared shortly after Bobby was born and Bobby’s mother had been going downhill ever since. At first she’d tried to keep up appearances but in the last few years she’d turned to food and the bottle for comfort as well as prescription d**gs. Now she was a fat shambling mess who couldn’t be bothered to cook or keep the house clean and tidy. Bobby did all that for the two of them. He didn’t want me to see her as he was ashamed of her. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to meet this exotic creature. All the mothers of the other k**s I knew were boringly normal (although that didn’t stop me making a few of them the stars of my nightly masturbatory fantasies). Despite his misgivings I persuaded Bobby to let me come with him to his house after school that day. I had another reason to want to go home with Bobby – he told me he had a stash of girlie magazines and as a young boy I was keen to see them.When we got to his house Bobby let himself in with his key. I could hear a radio playing somewhere at the back and Bobby called out, “Mum, I’m home!” but there was no answer. He looked worried and I followed him down the hallway and into the sitting room. As he went through the doorway he sighed. “Oh shit – not again!” I followed him into the room and saw what I assumed was his mother lying on the sofa. There was an almost empty bottle of gin and a completely empty glass on the coffee table and a bottle of what I later discovered were sleeping tablets beside them. I gave the bottles no more than a glance because I was staring at Bobby’s mother. Mrs Miller was in her early 40s – Bobby had a sister who was in her 20s and Bobby had been an unintended late arrival. I later saw pictures of her in happier times and she had been quite an attractive young woman with a slim but full-breasted figure and a mass of shining brown hair. Now she looked like a woman who, in the words my own mother often used, had “let herself go”.Her hair was now lank and greasy and her face, with the mouth wide open as she snored on the sofa, had the tell-tale broken veins of the heavy drinker. Far from the slim firm body of her younger days she had now piled on the pounds and was bordering on obese. She was wearing a grubby t-shirt that was stretched tight over her breasts and the “double ripple” rolls of fat below – one beneath her breasts and the other her belly. Below this she wore a shortish grey skirt. What claimed my attention – and had my cock stiffening – was the fact that she was sprawled across the couch with one leg hanging off it making her skirt ride up slightly. Between her slightly parted legs I could see the white triangle where her panties covered her crotch. I couldn’t stop myself staring but Bobby was more concerned with tidying up the overflowing ashtray beside the bottles and retrieving the empty glass from where it had dropped from his mother’s fingers onto the floor. He shook his mother by the shoulders – an action which made the u*********s woman’s breasts wobble enticingly – in an attempt to wake her before giving her a look of disgust and taking the ashtray and glass out to the kitchen.I could hear Bobby moving about in the kitchen and I took advantage of being alone with the comatose Mrs Miller to study her closely. I was fascinated by her large breasts and the way the outline of her bra was clear through the thin material of her t-shirt. I glanced towards the kitchen where I could hear Bobby washing dishes. “Make yourself at home. I’ll just clear this crap up and then we’ll have some Coke and I’ll show you my tittymag stash” The mention of “titties” made me move closer to Mrs Miller and study hers more closely. I was so excited by being able to stare boldly at a woman’s breasts that my cock was as hard as iron. I heard Bobby clattering up the stairs and, realising my opportunity, I reached out and tentatively bartın escort brushed my hand over the left breast of the drunken woman on the sofa. There was no reaction so, emboldened, I cupped it in my hand over her t-shirt. I gave it an experimental squeeze. At that moment I heard Bobby coming back down the stairs and took my hand away as if it had been burned.Bobby came in with a collection of well thumbed magazines in his hand. I never had the nerve to keep any at home and I asked Bobby if he wasn’t worried about his mother finding them when she cleaned his room. He snorted. “She never cleans my room – or any other room. The bitch is too lazy. Doesn’t get out of bed until midday and she’s too drunk to do anything a couple of hours later.” I’d never heard anyone refer to their mother as a “bitch” before. For some reason I found it really exciting. Bobby spread the magazines on the floor. This was the 1960s so there was no hardcore porn generally available – certainly not to boys our age. We called them “tittiemags” because that was all you saw – tits of all sizes but no cunts, not even a glimpse of pubic hair. Even nudist mags airbrushed those pictures where the women didn’t have their pudenda screened by a strategically placed beachball or piece of greenery. If I had relied on nudist mags for my education I would have believed that grown women had a crotch like a Barbie Doll. I knew, however, from games of Doctors and Nurses what little girls had between their legs and it seemed unlikely to me that the slit would heal over when they became adults. I’d never seen as much as a photo of a naked woman to check out my theory though.Bobby pulled a magazine out of the selection. “Have a look at this!” He’d chosen a magazine called “Jugs” and it specialised in women with large breasts. We flipped through the pages, commenting on each woman’s assets. Each one had her statistics printed alongside her pictures – “Debbie 36DD, Sandy 38D” etc. It was while we were studying Sandy’s photos that I said, “Hers are bigger than your Mum’s!” Bobby smiled. “Same cup size but not as big as hers.” He nodded towards the drunk woman on the sofa. I stared at him. “You ever seen your Mum’s?” “Yeah, lots of times. You want to see them?” I could only nod dumbly.I watched in disbelief as Bobby went to stand at the end of the sofa by his mother’s head and, before I could say anything further he had reached down, grabbed the bottom of his mother’s t-shirt and pulled it up high to expose a greying brassiere. Because she was lying on her back her breasts were bulging at each side of the cups. “Here you go!” Bobby said and hooked a finger under each cup and hauled his Mum’s bra up under her chin. Free of any support her tits flopped either side of her body. I gazed at the exposed udders, taking in the large dark patches of her areolae. I had once caught a quick glimpse of my own mother’s tits when she was changing at the beach and her areolae had been small
and pale. I looked down at the magazine on the floor. “Your Mum’s are good but I still reckon hers are bigger.” Bobby was offended. “That’s because she’s on her back but that one in the magazine is standing up. Look!” He put a hand on each side of his mother’s tits and scooped them upwards until they were pushed together. We both giggled. “OK – your Mum wins but her nipples aren’t very big.”“Fuck! You don’t know anything about tits do you? Their nipples get hard…….like your cock is.” He grinned, “Mine is hard as fuck.” He released his mother’s tits, unzipped his trousers and pulled out his rigid penis. Like me, he was starting to get hairs at the base of the shaft and was somewhere between c***d and adult. Certainly there was nothing c***dlike about the stiffness of his cock which was standing upright inches from his u*********s mother’s face. I was startled. “What if she wakes up?” “She won’t. She’ll just about come round late tonight then she’ll drag herself to bed and do it all over again. Nothing will bring her round for hours” While he’d been saying this he’d been pulling gently with finger and thumb on his Mum’s right teat and it had stiffened under the attention. I was fascinated. “Go on – try it!” he said, “See how hard you can get the other one.” Mrs Miller’s nipples were fat and dark, sitting in the middle of wide, dark areolae. The one I tentatively touched was almost flat and maybe half an inch across and I was strangely reluctant to folllow Bobby’s example and grasp it. “You know that’s where the milk comes from, don’t you?” said Bobby. I nodded. “See if you can suck some milk out.” I cupped the heavy tit in my hand, bent my head froward and took the sleeping teat into my mouth. Actually, I had the whole end of her breast in my mouth and was sucking hard. To my delight I soon felt Mrs Miller’s nipple stiffening against my tongue and within a minute it was at full erection. I released it and looked down. Now the end of her breast was wet and shiny with my saliva and the teat stood proud and dark the size of a cigar butt. “No milk yet.” I remarked and Bobby escort bartın laughed at my innocence. “Of course not! They only have milk in just after they have a baby. Now they are just good for playing with. See how far you can stretch your one.” Bobby was holding his mother’s nipple between thumb and forefinger and he pulled upwards so her heavy breast was pulled up with it. The nipple was stretched out and elongated too. “Jesus! Won’t she wake up? I asked. “The drunken bitch wouldn’t wake up if you pulled her tits right off” he replied. “ Not once she’s got herself into this state. Go ahead. Do what you like to them.” He himself was amusing himself by making his mum’s large white tit wobble by yanking on the teat and shaking it from side to side so the titflesh rippled and trembled. I grasped his u*********s mother’s other breast by the nipple and pulled but it was slippery with my saliva and slipped from my grasp just as I had reached the limit and flopped back down into its slightly flattened shape. Fascinated I used both hands to squeeze, lift and mould it into a firmer form. The erect teat stood atop it and I bent my head to it again, wanting to feel that rubbery nipple in my mouth again. When I raised my head again I saw that Bobby was watching me with a grin on his face. He was still playing with his mother’s teat but his other hand was stroking his cock which he had thrust forward so it was over his mother’s face. “Want to see her cunt?” He asked.It seems hard to believe in these days of instant access to hardcore porn but these were pre-Internet times. My own mother was very prim and proper. I may have managed a few sneaky glimpses up her skirt and had stroked myself many times reliving that one quick view of her small tits but I had never seen what Tommy referred to as her “cunt”. If I ever imagined what a grown woman had between her legs I assumed it was a larger version of what the few p*****n girls I had played with had. None of them had opened their legs either – all I knew was that they had a sort of slit down there. They truly were innocent days. “Shit – yes please!” I whispered, almost disbelieving that this was actually happening.“Since you’re here we’ll take her knickers off,” said Bobby. “It’s a bastard trying to get them back on her afterwards when I’m by myself but it shouldn’t be a problem with two of us. I usually just pull them to one side but you’ll want a good look.”“Have you done this a lot then?” I asked and Bobby told me he’d first m*****ed his mother about a year back. “I was fucking terrified the first time. Just had a quick feel of her tits and a look up her dress. Then, when she didn’t wake up I got braver and put my hand down her bra. Now I do what I like. Most days she’s more or less awake but once or twice a week she gets completely out of it.” As he’d been talking he’d come round to the side of the sofa and he flipped his mother’s skirt up round her waist. Not that “waist” was too accurate as Mrs Miller was carrying a lot of weight. What was exposed were a pair of large white cotton knickers pulled high over a large belly but my attention was on the bulge below that. Tommy pushed his mother’s legs together hooked his fingers at either side of the top of her panties and started to tug them downwards. This was a million miles from the glamorous women in the tit mags. No silk underwear or stockings – Tommy’s Mum was wearing greying cotton knickers that had a small hole near the elastic at the waist and, incongruously, she was wearing one pink fluffy slipper. The other was lying on the floor. Tommy struggled to get her panties down but finally they were around one ankle and I could see my first adult cunt. It seems ridiculous now but I was surprised to see Mrs Miller’s fat mound was covered in curly hairs. Nowadays even on TV k**s can see pubic hair but it came as a surprise to me to see it on a female. I knew I was growing hairs – I had a small growth at the base of my cock and some of the boys in my class were even hairier – but I had imagined a woman’s cunt to be simply a larger version of the ones I had seen when experimenting with my friends sisters. The hairs were so thick I couldn’t see the top of her slit at all. Tommy was slowly stroking his cock and I quickly unzipped and pulled my rigid shaft out too. Tommy pushed his mother’s right LG up against the back of the sofa and pushed her slipper clad foot up so her knee was bent. Then he pulled her left leg off the sofa and lowered it so the foot was on the floor. Mrs Miller was now nicely spread. Tommy reached down and rested his hand on his mum’s fat, hairy mound. “Go on – have a good look at her cunt. She can’t stop you can she?” I knelt on the floor and stared at what the drunk woman had between her plump thighs. I could see the full length of her slit. There were two pinky brown wrinkled flaps peeping out of it – something I’d never seen on the little girls cunts I’d seen in the past. Tommy spread his mother’s labia (as I learned later they were called) and her whole sexual anatomy was laid bartın escort bayan out before me.“Seen a woman’s cunt before?” He asked. I shook my head, unable to speak. My mouth was dry and I was starting to breathe hard. “You can see her hole, look!” He was now using both hands and pulling the the fleshy lips wide apart. The first u*********s woman’s pussy was stretched wide. I could see the entrance to her vagina (another word I not learned later) and a smaller opening above and right at the top what I later came to realise was her clitoris. Mrs Miller must have had a larger than normal clit because It was really prominent and at that stage she certainly wasn’t aroused. Tommy took it upon himself to give me a lesson on female anatomy using his drunk and u*********s mother as his model. “See that little hole? That’s where the piss comes from. She actually pissed once whe
n I was playing with her cunt. drunken bitch! Fucking sprayed everywhere.” He spat accurately into his mum’s slit and rubbed the saliva along the length of it. “And this is her fuckhole. Want to stick a finger up it?” I was fascinated by the pink folds of the middle aged woman”s sex. “Can I?” “She’s not going to stop you, is she. You can do anything you like to her. Go on – have a good feel. The bitch deserves it.” I was shocked by the bitterness in his voice. Obviously he hated what his mother had become and the effect it had on his life.Tentatively I put my hand on Mrs Miller’s fat, white inner thigh. Tommy spat again, right onto the opening. “Go on – see how far you can get a finger up her fanny.” I put my middle finger on the entrance and was amazed how easily it went up inside the u*********s woman”s cunt. I could feel it gripping my lightly. I had one finger deep inside her and I as stroking my rigid cock with the other. I felt my precum dribbling onto my fingers and I withdrew from her hole and lubricated my fingers with my juices. Now I found I could get two fingers inside Tommy’s mother. Now her passage was gripping my fingers more tightly. My knuckles were pressed against her bum cheeks. Tommy was breathing heavily. “You know what fucking is?” He said. I nodded – a friend’s older brother had told us how you fucked a woman and swore he’d done it to his girlfriend. “Fuck her with your fingers. Go on. It’s fucking ace.” So I moved my fingers in and out and, to my surprise, I felt my fingers sliding in and out more easily as I did so. “She’s getting wet, isn’t she? I’ve noticed that when I do it. Just mind out she doesn’t piss on you.” Tommy was wanking as he watched my fingers going in and out f his mum. “Stick your cock up her. Give her a good fucking!” I struggled out of my trousers and underpants and positioned myself above the fat drunken slut that was my friend’s mother. Tommy was spreading his mum’s cult and urging me on. “Shove it up her! Fuck the bitch!l my cock was so hard it was difficult to push it down so the head rested between her wrinkled, slippery flaps but I felt the entrance against my knob and thrust forward. I felt my slim, solid cock slip right up her and instinct took over. I started thrusting hard and fast, feeling her middle-aged cunt gripping my shaft lightly but enough for me to know I wasn’t going to last long. Every thrust made Mrs Miller’s floppy udders wobble. Tommy was watching my cock going in and out of his mother and wanking frantically. He gasped, “Don’t shoot it inside her. Take it out……quick!” He must have realised how close a I was to coming and I pulled out just in time. I had only recently started producing anything at climax but this was amazing. It was like a fountain as jet after jet of watery sperm shot over Mrs Miller’s hairy mound. Tommy’s hand was a blur on his shaft and he was squeezing his mother’s left tit hard as he unloaded over her belly, tits and chin. He even managed to get a final spurt into his drunken mother’s open mouth. He was gasping, “Take it you drunken cow. Take my spunk you bitch!”Minutes later we were sat on the floor, our cocks back in our underpants. Tommy had wiped his mother clean with some kitchen towel but had made no effort to cover her up. She lay sprawled on the sofa, her bra and t-shirt under her chin, her udders flopped to each side, her legs spread and her hairy cunt on full display. “Want another go?”asked Tommy. I said I had to get home for tea – although I couldn’t wait to repeat the experienc I knew my own mother would not be amused if I was late and what could I give as an excuse – “Sorry Mum – I was over at Tommy’s house fucking his mother.”“OK, but give me a hand to get her knickers back on. It’s a bastard to do. That’s why I usually just pull them to one side but I thought you’d like to have a good view of what she’s got.” Together we managed to slide the garment up her legs and I lifted Mrs Miller up (fuck, she was heavy!) just enough for Tommy to pull them right up. While we were putting her tits back in her bra my cock started to stiffen and I almost changed my mind about leaving but finally we had Mrs Miller back to the state she was in before we had started to abuse her. I said , “Wow Tommy, that was amazing! Can we do it again some time?” Tommy smiled. “I reckon we can do this a lot!” And over the next 10months, before Tommy and his mum moved away, we did……..often.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20