Mom in a harness

CHAPTER THREE

"Ohhhhh… it's so big, so very, very big! You're going to kill me with that thing!" Monica gasped, throwing her head back.

Forgotten was the pain from the cigarette, the slapping, the bonds. All she thought of now was his wonderful prick corkscrewing into her, shaving apart her seepy, itchy, slick cunt walls and tunneling deeper, deeper into her body. How her stomach convulsed! How her muscles cramped while her asscheeks bounced frantically against the heels of her feet! Nothing, it seemed, could be this good in the world! She gasped, her mouth open and sucking in oxygen to feed her twisting body as Jack's prick burrowed into her.

"Ohhhhhh, baby, yeahhh, you're good and hot and tight and fine down there," he groaned, reaching around and holding her around her hips.

How she loved that touch, the feel of his fingers cutting into her muscles, keeping her in place while his prick fucked in, slicing her body in two like a surgeon's scalpel. "Oooooohhhhh!"

More whimpery gasps exploded from Monica's tightened throat as her head fell back and her eyes closed! Up and down, up and down her body bounced, lowering more and more onto his rodding prick. Her belly muscles rippled with excitement, and her tits jiggled and bounced from her rocking movements. The smell and sound of fucking filled the room. And Jack was doing things now to make her hotter. Was she sore from that cigarette? Monica didn't know. All she could feel was one callused fingertip tracing around where her cunt flooded juice. He was sliding it around the tensed, aching muscles guarding her pussy. Then he moved his hand back, the finger barely touching the supersensitive ribbon of flesh between her asshole and her cunt. She could feel the jagged fingernail touching her wrinkled asshole flesh!

"Mmmmmmm…"

Surely there couldn't be any feeling in the world comparable to this! The woman was going wild with lust, bouncing like a puppet on Jack's cock. She rode him up and down, up and down, sweat trickling down her throat and oozing down both bouncing tits. How her nipples itched and burned, while her clit rubbed continually against the big man's hard, hot prick.

"Ohhhhh, mama…"

Arlette felt herself teetering on the brink of orgasm. Her clothes stuck damply to her aroused flesh. Her mother was getting fucked, fucked right there in front of her! She watched as Monica rutted like some barn animal in front of her, watched her mother's big tits bounce and jiggle as that stranger fucked her harder and harder. Two fingers twisted around and around in her virgin cunt, the tips pressing against her cherry, threatening to break through the thin barrier.

"Uhhhhhh, fuck me, fuck me harder!" Monica cried desperately.

"Fuck you 'til your brains bubble," Jack promised in a tense voice.

The big man slid his hands up her sides, tracing her curves, stopping at her tits, where he began squeezing and milking them. The touch was like a wild electrical fire in Monica. She cried out again, screaming the walls down when she felt Jack take her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and begin squeezing and twisting them. Oh, how they burned with that torment! And all the while, Monica felt her insides stretching out around his huge prickshaft. The woman tensed, waiting for that flaring cockhead to reach bottom! Still it plowed through, slurping over her slick cunt walls, trenching out her fuckhole. His cock was deep, so very, very deep. Monica trembled and shivered, feeling so good, hearing the slick noises of his prickshaft sliding past her cuntlips.

"Oh, God, I can't take much more," Monica gasped, feeling the world crashing down around her. More electrical sparks of sexuality showered into her cunt, drawing yet more strength and will from her. "It feels so huge inside me… so huge and hot and…"

"You're tight, baby," Jack interrupted, fucking the final three inches into the woman and holding tightly onto her. "You're real hot and tight. You ain't… uhhh… ain't had a man inside you for a long time, have you, bitch?"

"Oh, no, no, noooo!"

Arlette trembled. Was this her fate as a woman? If she didn't have men often enough, would she become like her mother, a mindless fucking machine who did these kinds of things with strangers?

"Uhhhhhh, fuck it out, fuck it out, baby, 'cause I'm gonna blow my balls in a sec'," Jack said, his voice strained and high.

"Cum, cum, cum!" Monica cried back, bouncing more frantically on his thighs. Monica was rocking back and forth, her hips grinding as best they could with the restraints holding her body captive. She could feel her cunt muscles tightening, milking at his fucking prick. Monica was making gurgling sounds in her throat, her mind burning with increased lust. Jack was hammering her clit now, drawing his cock halfway out, then slamming it back in, his balls squeezing up against her jiggling asscheeks. It was going to be the end, the end now!

"Oh, God!"

Arlette felt her body coming unglued as she watched her mother fucking herself. Instinctively, the girl knew Monica and her sadistic lover were close to the brink. She held off her fingering, waiting for the moment when the two would climax.

"You're gonna bring me off, baby… oh, yeahhh, you're gonna make me cum, bitch!"

"I can't stop… can't…"

Monica's ass was moving like a wild animal. Her spasming cunt was making rhyhmic, hard, milking movements around his prick, the circles tightening, releasing, then tightening once more. Oh, how her body needed Jack's prick there, needed it hammering into her pussy, touching her clit. She would surely lose her mind if she couldn't have his hot, heavy cockshaft, buried in her cunt. Oh, and how his fingers were straying up to her asshole, touching her shitter lips again! She didn't care where he touched her now! He could fuck her in the ass if he wanted with those fingers! Everything was good, so good! His prick up her cunt, his cock up her ass, it didn't matter! All Monica wanted was the final delight, that exploding sensation of her mind shattering. Cum! Cum! Yes, she wanted to cum! "Ohhhhh!" Arlette quietly gasped.

The teenager thought she was going to fall forward as her strength failed her. Monica was rattling off in some very private tongue of her own, while Jack kept swearing at her. Their bodies mashed and ground together. "Cummmmmm!"

It was her mother, screaming like a wild woman! That moment of madness was upon her! She was screaming and twisting, bouncing and jerking, and her tits jiggled and danced.

"Blow it out, baby, come on, blow it… ughhhhh!"

And then it was Jack's turn. Monica felt the jetting wads of cum spattering against her cuntwalls. That sensation sent her up higher, made her climax all that much more intense! She bounced and babbled, her orgasm more devastating than anything she had ever felt before in her life!

"Ahhhhhh, fuck, man, fuck!"

Arlette couldn't believe what was happening both to her mother and her. She watched the couple grinding against one another, heard her mother's desperate screams of delight as she rode Jack's spurting prick. And then her own climax swept over her like a tidal wave, smashing all restraint in the rutting teen. If the others had listened, they could have heard her crying out and gasping for air as she carne only a few feet away from them. But both Monica and Jack were trapped in their own private heaven. The teen was gasping, her one hand pumping at her swollen-open cuntlips, thrilling spasms of lust tearing apart her body. She swayed like someone who had drunk too much beer. She was drunk, drunk with a strange kind of lust she couldn't understand. Her body leaning heavily against the bedroom door molding, Arlette giggled with pleasure, feeling both ashamed and proud of herself. In a moment, she forgot everything around her as the pounding rage of her lust reached its peak. Her knees trembled, buckled, then gave way completely as she sank slowly to the floor, tears of delight straining her cheeks. Her fingers reached in deeper, plowing through the mushy heat of her cunt.

"Nooooo… ohhhhhh, it's so good, so very good… it's going to kill me!" the girl whispered through her sobs as a fire storm raced through her pussy, the flames encasing her body in flashing thrills.

How long Arlette was squattering in that awkward position by the bedroom door, she didn't know. When she came to and opened her eyes, she found herself near the crack leading into her mother's room. She shook herself into consciousness, grasped the doorknob and shakily stood up. It was quiet inside. Biting down on her lower lip, still feeling the aftershocks of her incredible climax, the young teen peered cautiously into the bedroom.

"Ohhhhh, God!"

Monica was untied, her arms at her sides, and her legs had been unbound, as well. Jack was on top of her, kissing her belly, squeezing her nipples while still humping his prick into her cunt. The woman was muttering something, rolling her head slowly from side to side, her eyes closed tightly. Yes, Monica was in a world of bliss still, oblivious to everything except that licking tongue and the prick slurping in and out of her fuckhole.

"No, oh, no."

Arlette mastered herself, backing away from the door, stumbling over her own feet and cursing her clumsiness. She had to get away, had to leave this horrible place for a while. She felt shame and confusion as she raced through the livingroom, bumping her shin on the coffee table and nearly overturning the heavy piece of furniture. Stopping behind the sofa, the young teen gripped the back, hanging her head down, trying to catch her breath. Horrible! Just horrible! She had witnessed something few children see – her mother fucking her brains out, and in such an obscene, perverse way! How could she ever face her mother again, look her in the eye without feeling a little sick?

Sounds! Footsteps! The bedroom door creaked open! One of them was getting up, perhaps padding over to the kitchen for something to drink. They would see her. Arlette shook off the thoughts settling on her brain, and she moved quickly to the front door, opening it, then slipping outside.

It felt good to be in the fresh air. Walking quickly to the sidewalk, Arlette avoided the streetlamp, afraid her mother or that stranger would see her leaving. Folding her arms across her tits, the young teen walked slowly toward Santa Monica Boulevard, her sandals scraping over the cracked concrete. Who was that man? Again, the question came to her mind as the cool air lifted her hair from her shoulders. Traffic was heavy on the boulevard tonight, row upon row of bright headlamps beading the broad avenue, and gaudy neon lights invited the curious into various bars.

Arlette looked at the scene, then closed her eyes and felt a delightful shudder pass over her cunt. Could she accuse her mother of something she also felt? She had witnessed something horrible. Yet she had done nothing to prevent it. She had enjoyed watching that man tie her mother up, had loved seeing Monica bound, then slapped and burned, and finally fucked out of her mind in that wild, perverse position! Even now, Arlette felt her flesh burn as she thought of that big man. Was he fucking her mother now? Did he have her between his powerful arms and legs, feeding her his massive cock, giving her one last fuck before he had to leave?

"My God!"

Glancing down at the blue face of her digital watch, the girl saw it was nearly ten. One more hour, and she would go home, pretending nothing unusual had happened. But how her world had changed. Turning south, the young woman walked back past her home, seeing the bedroom lights were still on. Fucking! All the girls in school talked about it, giggled about it, fantasized about it. Arlette laughed along with the rest of them, certain her time would come sooner or later. She had never felt particularly aroused with any of the guys around school or her neighborhood – certainly, nothing like what she had just experienced!

The side streets of West Hollywood were quiet tonight, a gentle breeze whispering through the tall eucalyptus trees lining the streets like soldiers. Behind her was the steady rumbling of city traffic down the boulevard. Yes, she had been living in a side street all her young life, away from the mainstream.

These and other similar thoughts swam through the girl's head as she walked back and forth, glancing nervously at her watch, wondering when it would be safe to come home. Shortly after eleven, she turned the corner and walked briskly toward her house, squaring her shoulders, feeling her heart beginning to beat wildly once more.

No car, no lights in the bedroom window! The man had gone. Arlette let out a sigh of relief, yet felt somehow disappointed at his disappearance. She almost wanted him to be there, wanted to surprise her mother and her lover, perhaps to be drawn into their filthy little game of S amp;M.

Opening the door, the blonde teen peeked into the livingroom. All was quiet, as before. The magazines she had accidentally knocked from the coffee table had been picked up and stacked neatly on one corner. Closing the door and locking it, Arlette began climbing the stairs.

"Is that you, Arlette?"

It was Monica, her voice drifting in from the other room. The girl shivered, remembering the thrill cries her mother made when she came with that stud. Her fingers gripped the wooden handrail as she struggled for some kind of control.

"How was the game?" her mother called. Monica came into the livingroom, a modest, dark-blue bathrobe wrapped tightly around her body. Arlette blushed furiously, glad only one light had been left on in the frontroom. The gathering darkness was masking her discomfiture.

"Oh, all right," she said with affected boredom, yawning and drawing her arms over her head. With that move, she remembered how her mother looked, her arms slung back, the ropes tugging hard at her wrists. She dropped her arms immediately, feeling a flash of embarrassment, the shame of someone who has accidentally seen a forbidden event and who can't relate it to anyone. "The other team… won," Arlette said haltingly, realizing that she had forgotten even who they were playing.

"Ohhhh, too bad. Well, perhaps next time," Monica said, tilting her head to one side and studying her daughter. There was something wrong, something strange about the way Arlette was behaving suddenly. Monica wanted to go further into this conversation, but the teen was already climbing the stairs, yawning and telling her mother she would talk more in the morning.

"Good night, Mother," Arlette called down, feeling the ceiling would collapse in on her if she were to stay down there any longer. Fucked! Yes, that's what her mother was fucked hard and long by that wonderful, horrible young stud. And now natural, how normal she looked now, so matronly and sedate. No one seeing her now could possibly believe she had been screaming the ceiling down, fucking her brains out while tied up in that grotesque fashion.

"Oh, God!"

Arlette didn't even go into the bathroom to shower and change. She was too confused, too exhausted, too drained by her experience. Making her way into the bedroom, the young teen fell across her bed.

"Oh, this is horrible, awful," she kept repeating in a whisper, closing her eyes and still seeing her mother and Jack fucking, coupling like two wild animals in the woods. Who was he? Would he come back? How had her mother landed someone like that? "God, God!" The girl draped one arm over her eyes and felt herself falling into a deep sleep. The last thing Arlette saw in her mind's eye was that fat prick, loaded with jizz, disappearing between the fur-edged lips of her mother's cunt.

In the morning, Arlette awakened with a start. Bright sunlight streamed in through her bedroom window. Turning to one side, she saw it was nearly eight o'clock. Rising quickly, the girl stripped off her clothes, showered quickly, then pulled on a white halter and matching tennis shorts, and she padded barefoot down the steps. She could hear her mother clattering around the kitchen. There was the pleasant aroma of bacon in the air.

"Morning," Arlette said sleepily, scooting behind the breakfast table and dropping a white paper napkin in her lap.

Monica had dressed earlier in an outfit similar to Arlette's a tight-fitting halter to show off her high-riding tits and a tight pair of shorts. She knew her body was still good, as finely tuned and attractive as most teenagers', including that of her daughter. Men still paused and did double takes when she walked by.

Jack. Monica bit her lip, pausing for a while while, stirring the bacon in the pan. That had taken her by surprise. How could she ever explain her reactions to someone like him? He was her husband's friend, had come over several days ago suddenly to see if there was any handy work that could be done. Jack Finney had been laid off his job at the Kaiser Steel Plant in Fontana earlier last month and was drifting through L.A., searching for work. Things had happened that day, things Monica couldn't explain to herself. It was as if some wall shattered the moment he stared hotly at her over that late-afternoon cup of coffee. Arlette wasn't at home. The house was quiet. In a moment, she found herself gathered in his arms, begging him for…

"Mother, someone's at the door. Should I get it?"

Monica nearly dropped the fork.

"Yes, dear. It's the handyman. I'm just finishing up here. Invite him in and see if he wants a cup of coffee."

Arlette finished her orange juice, dabbing her lips with the napkin, then rose from the table.