Chapter Ten

Sam’s heart rate lifted as she got closer. He had no idea what she had in mind but the wide-eyed, moist lipped expression on her face was so damn erotic his stallion twitched. When she stopped next to him he gazed up at her.

“Push your chair back.”

Her words needed no response. He did as she asked, pushing the chair back three or so feet from the table. She leaned forward, her top gaped, giving him a fantastic view of her ample cleavage. How he would love to slide his steed between those big mommas, but for now he had to settle for admiring the scenery. When he trailed his focus back up to her face she raised an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the show?”

Blood rushed to his cheeks. She had put the damn things on display, so why should he be embarrassed? Because he didn’t want her to think he only wanted her for sex, even though, right now, he did.

Any further thought eluded him. She had dropped to her knees and got busy unzipping his pants. Dear God above, surely she didn’t intend to go down on him? The thought alone sent his stallion into overdrive, bucking and fighting to escape the stable. Her warm hands finally slid inside his jeans. He let out a guttural moan when she wrapped her fingers around him and coaxed his rigid shaft out of his pants.

“Sam.”

Opening his eyes, he stared down at her. Her cheek rested on his thigh, her eyes locked with his. Slowly, she licked the length of him. Finally reaching the head, she swirled her tongue over the already moist, sensitive top. A pulse of pure lust made his cock twitch in anticipation. When her mouth closed over him, her lips teased the sensitive skin just beneath the head. He clenched his fists. His whole dick throbbed in time with his pulse and his balls ached. Her mouth felt like a warm moist pool ready for him to fuck.

He took a deep breath and centered himself. Easing down a little further in the chair, he focused all his attention on the sensation of her lips and hand working in tandem. Her soft, moist, tongue slid against the underside of his dick as she took it deeper with each glide. Her lips never lost a grip on him as she maintained suction. One hand pumped his shaft, the other massaged his aching testicles. He had no idea whether she had done this before, or if she had a God given talent. Glide after glide, deeper and deeper. The tension built, he panted in an effort to prolong the moment. The fight was fast being lost. Ready for release, nothing would hold his stallion back. Everything in his groin tensed, he was about to explode.

Placing a hand on her head, he tried to warn her to pull back but she brushed his arm away and worked more furiously. She should take up sword swallowing. No one had ever deep throated him before. If she were to start humming her vocal chords would tickle the tip of his dick. The thought sent him spiraling out of control. Backside lifting off the chair, his hips thrust in time with her mouth sliding down on him. The first rush of release was pure pain and pleasure. His whole body convulsed as each warm jet of spunk spurted from the head of his dick. He screamed a loud “Yeehaw,” which echoed around the room as he continued to drive deep into her throat. He was sure he would never run out of come. Mid-thrust, she slammed her hands on his thighs and held him down, still milking him with her mouth.

Tap, tap, tap. “Meg? Yoo-hoo, Meg? I can see you’re in there. What are you two doing?”

Sam grabbed her shoulders, trying to shove her off. “Fuck, your mother’s at the window.”

*

Meg pulled her mouth from his now floppy dick and got to her feet, swallowing the last of his seed. Hell, her mother’s timing was perfect. No chance for her to enjoy his afterglow, to watch as he collapsed spent and satisfied from her ministrations, to kiss him while she still tasted of his semen, or to crawl into his lap and entwine her tongue with his until he was ready to go again.

“Woohoo, Meg.”

Sam leapt up, knocking the chair over and madly shoved his now flaccid penis in his pants. Rolling her eyes, Meg crossed the room and unlocked the sliding door. Without waiting for her mother to enter, she walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. She needed a drink. Her mother’s arrival had ruined the moment, did she have antenna that picked up sexual activity amongst her family members? Hot and decidedly bothered, Meg picked up a can of cola, popped the top and took a large swig, swilling it around her mouth before swallowing.

“Meg, what were you two doing, and what has Sam running off like a scalded cat?”

After slamming the fridge door, Meg turned to look at her mother. Her arrival was like a royal tour. Hat placed firmly on her head, crisp white and blue flowery patterned linen dress, matching shoes and handbag. She looked like she’d escaped from the fifties.

Meg shrugged. The net curtains would have blurred the view through the window but it didn’t take a vivid imagination to work out what was going on when a girl had her face in a guy’s lap, especially when he was yelling yeehaw with more gusto than a rodeo rider. She decided to spare her mum’s blushes. The woman didn’t do sex. “He wanted me to look at a splinter.”

“A splinter where?” He mother glanced at the door to the living room then whispered loudly, “He didn’t have his winky out, did he? Men can’t be trusted. You need to be careful.”

Her mother tossed her purse on the table, before poking at the tomato sauce stain on the cloth. “This place is disgraceful. You really need to clean up.” She wiped a finger down her own chin. “You’ve got some milk or something on your face, dear.”

Meg rubbed the back of her hand across her chin, wiping off a dribble of Sam’s sticky semen.

“His winky?” Was she serious? What the hell kind of name was that? Come to think of it, she had never heard her mother refer to the male organ before. She must be really concerned about Meg’s safety to acknowledge men had anything in their pants. The realization her mother was well beyond her comfort zone urged her on. She wondered how far she could go before her mother freaked right out. “I know, terrible things, winkies. I could poke my eye out on it, or trip and fall on an erect one and get pregnant.”

“Maggie Riley!”

Meg got a fit of the giggles. Maybe using the word ‘erection’ was going too far. Her mother was the biggest prude she knew. Other than the two times her dad had obviously convinced her to drop her drawers and let him impregnate her, she doubted he had seen any action in his thirty-two year marriage. The woman not only didn’t do sex, she also liked to pretend no one else she knew did either. Meg would never forget the Saturday morning Sian had shoved Michael Monaghan out of their bedroom window stark naked.

The poor guy had come home with her from a club but had fallen asleep after they spent half the night screwing. Meg was more than aware of what was going on as she tried to sleep in a bed only six feet from Sian’s. It was her own private sex education lesson, much more informative than the textbooks at school. The whole process seemed to go on a lot longer than she expected, and from Sian’s moans and begging was a lot more enjoyable. Michael was the first man she saw naked. He was hung like a donkey. Or he’d seemed to be at the time. On reflection, it could just have been the shock of seeing his dick rise and stand rigid as he prowled across the room then pinned her older sister to the bed.

Meg had helped throw his clothes at him when her mother knocked on the bedroom door to tell them breakfast was ready. They had pulled on robes and fled to the kitchen before their mother could open the door and come in. Michael Monaghan’s naked, white backside was clearly on view as he disappeared down the front driveway, his clothes clutched to his chest. Their dad grinned at them as they slid in behind the table. “Cold morning for it.”

Sian kicked at Meg when she got a fit of the giggles. A few months later Sian had moved out. She said she needed more space; what she really needed was the ability to fuck around without getting found out and sending their mother into a fit of apoplexy. Meg had only moved out when the drive from home to work got too draining. Her sex life was so lackluster she barely noticed it, so there was no danger of it shocking her mother.

Sam wandered back into the kitchen, righting the chair that still lay on its back. Sweat still glistened on his face and a flush colored his cheeks. He flashed an uncertain smile. “Mrs. Riley.”

“Meg was just telling me about your splinter, is it still sore, dear?”

“My splinter?” A look of horror passed across his face, making Meg snort a mouthful of Coke.