Author's note:
After a long time, I wrote another Chapter of Carol's Series. Hope you will enjoy it!
After the long sex session with Carol and her son, John needed a refreshing bath. The large swimming pool in the backyard was the ideal site to recover his energies.
Tom and Nick were resting in nakedness on two deck chairs, in a corner of the patio, in front of a small table and a couple of beer cans.
"Look at him, buddy!" Nick said to his friend, pointing to the naked, glistening body of the giant stud. "The big warrior is back from the battle!! I bet the old chick has been properly served!"
"She squealed like a piglet!" Tim echoed, with emphasis. "The big titted bitch is a hot number! I'd fuck that white ass all night long!".
John jumped into the pool, hitting the liquid surface with a huge and loud splash. For some minutes he floated on his back, enjoying the coolness and cleanliness of the water, at the sunset's light. It was so relaxing!
Then he started to swim, back and forth, from one to the other side, raising heavy and high sprinklings.
When he was out of the pool, he went to a cabin, where he picked up a large towel and dryed himself, with noisy puffs of air.
There was a small cupboard, in the cabin, with two drawers. Drawn by curiosity, the young stud opened one of them and he saw a black, tiny piece of cloth. He took and unrolled it in his hands; then he realized what it was.
He had found the skimpiest bikini bottom that could be imagined: a narrow patch, made just to cover the baby pussy lips of a little schoolgirl, followed by a string of the same material (to be passed, evidently, between the asscheeks), a little bit larger than a dental floss. Both ends of that mini micro garment were connected to a pair of bands, to be tied together around the hips.
No trace of bikini top, in the drawers.
"Aaaaaahhhhh. . . the little bitch!!" John exclaimed. "She loves to show off, the big titted lady!!"
And with that, he figured in his mind the busty woman walking around the poolside and displaying to her boyfriends the succulent boobs, the delicious white buns and the unblemished, smooth skin of her petite body, barely covered by few square inches of cloth.
It was not all! If John had known the origin of that garment, his comments had been much more salacious! And the sadistic desires to dominate the submitted mom-son couple had raised at stratospheric levels. Yes, because the tiny thong had been a gift from Scott to his luscious mom, for her last birthday: a miniature piece of swimwear that was just made, for him, to admire the lovely body of his mother, when she paraded, voluptuously, along the poolside or gave herself into his arms, letting her son cradle carry her inside the pool, and sometimes inside the house, like boy and girl.
"I'll take it later, for my next game with the little pussy," he thought, smiling, as he replaced the micro thong in the drawer. Then he entered the house, to wear a pair of short pants. No more. Soonest he would have taken again the luscious body of the mature wife into his strong arms, skin to skin, flesh to flesh, in an endless orgy of lust and depravity.
When he met with Carol and Scott, they were just coming out of the bathroom. The son had a towel wrapped around his hips; the mom was wearing a white bathrobe.
"Did you wash her?" John asked the boy. And without waiting for his answer, he continued: "Let me check by myself," pulling Carol against his body. The height difference between them was enormous: his seven feet four inches towered over her four feet ten inches, like a giant and a midget.
"Baby, you're too short," he exclaimed. "I can't take my head bent down to you all the time. Let's find a better place!" And in a quick motion he put his hands around her hips, lifting her off the floor, as though she was a weightless little thing. Then he walked with her in his arms to some useful place. Scott followed them.
On the way, after her slippers fell off, her bare feet dangled gracefully in the air: the small brunette was a lovely trophy, the personal plaything of a huge stud.
When they were in the kitchen, John deposited the woman on the table. Now she stood on her feet, and their heads were at the same level. With the help of the table's legs, Carol had made up for the big difference in height between herself and the young stud.
He pulled on the belt of the bathrobe, revealing her frontal torso; then he slid the cloth down her arms and let it fall to the floor: the naked woman was totally exposed to his concupiscent gaze.
"Jeeeezz, lil one. . . you're hot!!" His hands reached out and cupped her breasts, gently caressing the soft, silky skin.
"My god, big guy. . . you always strip me naked!" She whined sexily, covering a little portion of his large palms with her tiny hands.
"Yes, sweety, 'cause you're my toy," he said, as he moved her fleshy globes back and forth on her chest.
"You perv. . . mmmmmmmmmm. . ." She couldn't finish: he had glued his lips to hers in a wet kiss. Quite automatically, her hands went around his neck and she responded to his tongue, as his palms continued to fondle her bare boobs.
Carol's clean body exhaled an enticing scent, after the perfumed bath her son had just given her. It was too much, for the turned on stud, and he didn't lose time; his massive arms enveloped the little woman in a tightening embrace, scooping her body up, without effort: it was so fun to sweep her off her feet and carry her around. She was not a young girl in her first time sex; she was a fifty-two, mature, upper class wife and mother; but her small, soft and gorgeous frame, her silky skin, her succulent flesh had the power to give way to his raging hormones like never before, in his life.
Folded in his sinewy arms, the diminutive woman looked like a little pixie captured by a giant satyr: John had gathered her whole body up to his head level, and his mouth and tongue were exploring the curvaceous hills on her chest, savouring the honey taste of her displayed boobs, areolae and nipples.
Carol felt good, because the stud's oral caresses were gentle on her: she loved to be licked and sucked that way.
"Oooooohhhhhh. . . yeeeeessss. . ." she squealed joyously; he cuddled her and she felt herself protected and aroused, at the same time.
John put a last lascivious kiss on the little mole that so deliciously interrupted the smooth surface of her left bosom, then raised his lips from the pillowy softness and gazed at Scott, her son, with a vicious look in his eyes.
"Great melons, boy," he exclaimed. "Made for fun! You like them, don't you?"
"Yes," was the prompt answer, without hesitation. "I love mom's tits." After having seen all the abuses on his mom's body from John and friends and after having repeatedly masturbated during those torrid sessions, Scott had freed himself from any reluctance and now he was only anxious to give vent to his incestuous passion.
"Do you play regularly with them, boy?"
"Yes, John, every day!"
"Wow. . . and where?" It was so exciting! Mother and son were in his full control and he wanted to prolong their erotic confessions.
"Outside, in the pool, and inside, when we are alone!" Now Scott's words were coming out fluently from his mouth.
"Did you strip her naked, dude?"
"Yes, I saw her in the nude!"
"Did you hear, little mommy?" John asked his sexy prey, who was lightly struggling in his firm embrace: but it was a habit, not a real attempt to get herself free.
"Yes, I heard," Carol whispered.
"And you love having your melons touched by your son! Don't you, little mommy?" The giant was insisting. His lips nuzzled into the hairless hollow of one of her white armpits.
"Yes, yes. . ." she moaned.
"Yes what, little mommy?"
"Yes. . . yes, I love my son playing with my breasts!"
Her words made Scott's cock pulse and throb.
"And you have other men playing with your tits, don't you?"
"Yes. . . yes. . . aaaaahhhh. . ." She shuddered, at the soft, teasing bite of his teeth on her upper arm.
