I saw Mommy kissing…

CHAPTER FOUR

As soon as she had told her mother about the sexual demands that Johnny Watson had made, Joanne regretted it. She had told the truth, but that was not the point.

The point was, she had enjoyed jacking the boy off.

Oh, she had been reluctant, at first. She was not a sexually experienced girl and she had resisted when he first tried to feel her pussy and, again, when he had asked her to handle his prick.

But she had been able to justify it, to rationalize it.

He had told her that if she wouldn't jerk him off, at least, he would make her walk home. Joanne had reasoned that it would be a long, cold, lonely walk home. It might well be risky, too – a girl all alone on a dark country road. Why, there was no telling what might happen to her, what dangers might be lurking in the fields and forests, that bordered the road, or in the cars that traveled along it in the dark of night. There might be rapists galore, sex maniacs in abundance, perverted friends in droves. She could see that Johnny was serious, that he meant what he said.

And after all, it was only a hand-job. It wasn't as if she had to fuck him or suck him off, or do anything really naughty. So she had agreed.

And the idea was not disagreeable.

In fact, Joanne had very much wanted to handle his cock, although she would not admit it, even to herself.

Now, sitting at the kitchen table, after her mother had gone back upstairs, she remembered the scene.

Johnny had gotten her blouse open and her bra off. He had been feeling her tits for a long time and they were tingling. Her big nipples had been hard as bullets and she had been breathing so hard that she was fairly stuffing her tits into his hands with every inhalation. She had wished that he would move down. Her pussy was on fire. She would have loved to have him finger-fuck her.

Instead, he opened his jeans and hauled his cock out.

The radio was playing softly and Joanne had seen his prick in the pale illumination from the dial. It was a big prick, fat and long and hard and shapely. The cockhead was a big, flaring, purple mushroom and the dark vein bulged on the underside of the cockshaft.

As she gazed at his prick, Joanne felt her hands begin to itch for a touch. In fact, she felt her tongue begin to tingle, as well, but that was one of those things she tried to deny to herself. She had never sucked a cock, and she would not admit that she wanted to.

Then he had demanded a hand-job.

She hadn't resisted very hard or very long.

She had felt it was necessary and justifiable. "Oh, all right – if I must," she said, sounding indifferent about it even as she thrilled to the prospect.

Johnny leaned back against the door, his legs thrust out, one for braced against the firewall. His eyes glinted. His white teeth gleamed in a wolfish grin. His prick pounded, swelling and throbbing. Joanne touched his cock tentatively at first, drawing her hand back as if she had touched a hot poker. Then she folded her fist around his cockstalk and began to stroke up and down.

"Yeah! Oh, yeah!" he groaned with pleasure.

Joanne leaned right over him. She was fascinated as she watched her hand on his prick. She felt his cock get bigger and bigger and harder and harder as she pumped him towards the peak.

She leaned closer and closer, until her face was right over his prick. She wished that he had demanded a blow-job, instead of a handjob. She was too shy to do it on her own initiative, but if he had made her do it – well, that would have been a different matter. She leaned right down over his cock, hoping that he would take the hint – that he would place his hand behind her head and push her face down onto his prick.

But Johnny didn't realize that Joanne was hungry for his cock. Johnny was, as she had thought, a virgin. He had never fucked and he had never had his cock sucked. The most he had ever had was a hand-job, and that was all he aspired to, all he figured he could get.

It never dawned on the boy that a nice girl like Joanne Weatherby would consent to take his cock in her mouth. He figured he was lucky just to get jacked off and did not press his luck.

He began to whimper.

Her mouth was watering. Oh, how she wished that he would force her to suck his big prick!

His hips jerked up and down spasmodically and his thighs trembled.

"Here it comes!" he cried.

She felt his cock balloon and then a gush of thick jism spurted from the cocktip in a great creamy mass. His cum splashed on her bare tits and fell in loops onto her thighs. She whimpered and kept on pumping, emptying his cock and balls to the dregs.

After he was drained, she continued to hold his prick, feeling it diminish slowly, softening in her grip. She glanced up. He was smiling contentedly. His eyes were closed. Joanne, watching his face to make sure he did not see what she was doing, raised her hand to her lips and lapped his spunk from her fingers and palm. It was her fist taste of jism.

It was delicious.

If cum tasted that wonderful, second-hand, she realized how delicious it would be if she were to drink is cum straight out of his prick!

If only he had known.

Remembering that scene, now, Joanne was sorry that she had told her mother about it. Because she wanted to date Johnny Watson again. She had high hopes for future dates with the horny lad. Surely he would get the idea, eventually. She wanted him to fingerfuck her and she wanted to suck his cock and swallow his cum. How foolish she had been to tell her mother that he was a horny boy!

Now she would not be able to date him again – not openly. Having revealed his inclinations, how could she ever let her mother know that she was going out with Johnny?

She looked at her hand – the hand that had jacked him off and from which she had licked up his cum.

Lust welled in her pussy.

Joanne decided to go up to her room and give herself a long, leisurely hand-job while she thought about Johnny's cock.

Joanne had been masturbating for just over a year.

She was quite an innocent, inexperienced girl. She had never even done any heavy petting before she met Johnny Watson. His was the first erect cock that she had ever seen, let alone milked. But she had thought about such things as a great deal as she experimented with her hands and fingers and rubbed her sweet pussy to a froth.

She gave herself two or three hand-jobs a week, usually in bed, either before going to sleep or when she first woke up in the morning. Normally she didn't deliberately set out to finger-fuck herself. But this morning, inspired by her recollections, the girl really needed to come.

Smiling in expectation, she got up from the table and went upstairs. She had to go past her parents' room to get to hers and she was moving quietly, slightly embarrassed at her intentions. As she passed the closed door of her parents' room, she heard the bed groan, and she heard her mother and father panting.

She stopped dead.

Were they fucking?

The thought thrilled her.

She listened at the door. Then, flushed by lust, ashamed of herself but unable to resist the urge, the girl knelt down and placed her eye to the keyhole.

It was quite a sight.

Clawing frantically at her cunt, Joanne watched Robert and Catherine fuck up a storm.