Sylvias Mother 2

Sylvia and I had moved in with her parents for a few months, so privacy was in short supply. But with Sylvia working tonight, her father's a trucker so usually away midweek and Jean, Sylvia's mother, having gone to the cinema with her friend Mary, I had a few hours to myself; finally, an opportunity to watch the video I'd got from my mate Lenny.

I was sprawled on the couch, trousers around my ankles and well into it by seven-thirty; Lenny made these films himself and for amateur skin-flicks they were bloody good. As ever it was Lenny himself, front and centre; Len's a good looking guy and sports a cock like a blind cobbler's thumb. While the lady was an athletic blonde and somewhat older, perhaps forty; she certainly knew how to suck cock, Lenny was stiff as a fence post.

The naked MILF had straddled Lenny and was lowering herself onto his shaft when I was disturbed; a muted feminine-gasp, but that was enough, I whipped my head around to discover Jean in the door way -- Oh Fuck! I grabbed for the TV remote, but in my panic knocked it to the floor; the video did at least pause, but with a full-screen image of Lenny's prick halfway into the blonde's cunt, it didn't help much.

The remote landed by Jean's feet; she retrieved it, then used it to gesture toward the TV: "I know that girl; Annabelle, we're in the same aerobics class... I was right about her hair being dyed." With no obvious answer to that, I remained silent.

Jean hit the play button and stared as Annabelle's pussy engulfed the rest of Len's cock then began grinding against the intrusion; the sounds and movement returned my own attention to the screen too, watching that was easier than facing Jean. Another few minutes passed before a second, and heavier gasp drew my attention back to Jean; my mouth gaped, Jean's hand was beneath her skirt and while that hid what it was doing, the fabric's movement made it patently clear.

I gawked until Jean's eyes caught mine, hers now wickedly sparkling, but again we remained silent, until with another gesture toward the screen Jean crooned: "That looks like fun..." before dropping her eyes to my erect cock and concluding "and that looks eminently suitable." I sat like a rabbit in the headlights as Jean walked across the room, set down the TV remote and slipped both hands beneath her skirt.

Incredibly slowly and in conjunction with a sensual writhing, Jean slid her panties down and stepped free of them; was that protraction intended to arouse me or give one of us the opportunity to see sense and call a halt to proceedings? If the latter it failed miserably, I remained silent and unmoving, while Jean glanced back to the TV, whispered: "Mmm... that's exactly what I need." then edged forward to kneel astride me on the couch.

There were no further prevarications, Jean brushed aside my hands, grasped my prick with one of her own and it disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt; an instant later I felt it drag through the coarse pelt of Jean's pubis. Damp at the periphery, positively wet by its centre and when Jean guided my cock head between the soft folds of her labia, she was drenched.

An inch inside Jean paused again, took one final look at the TV and muttered: "Yes... just like that." before dropping recklessly onto my cock. I penetrated her completely with that first stroke, Jean was yielding and awash with her own juices; my growl of pleasure at the sensation as I hit bottom was drowned out by Jean's febrile cry of "Oh fuck yessssss!"

Without pause Jean began gyrating on my lap, not the steady grinding visible on the TV screen, but a frenetic pitching and bucking of her hips which pounded my cock into the very depths of her cunt. Our coupling was frenzied and short-lived; I called out a warning of my impending climax, but Jean continued unabated, screaming: "Let it go, I want it in there... fill me with cum!"

My own climax triggered Jean's and we collapsed in a sated heap; where the fuck had that come from and where would it lead? Once again, it was Jean who spoke: "Jesus but its been a long time... Isn't Sylvia working Thursday too? It's going to be me crying-off on Mary at the last minute that night."