Sex Tales

I went down the stairs in Darren’s shirt.

There had been a sudden extraordinarily s*xy raunchiness that filled me when I decided spur of the moment to put on Darren’s shirt. It was the first time I had ever done it.

My lover boy was downstairs in my kitchen, only in his boxers, getting us brunch.

I was in front of the mirror in my room, checking out myself in his light blue shirt. It suits my sapphire eyes and long brunette hair. I felt like I was inside him, not my boyfriend inside me. It was the size of the shirt. It was large and hanging free to the top of my thighs. Nothing underneath, and that added to the special s*xy glow I felt all over me. The top buttons were open, and the shape of my bouncy breasts lay visible. Then there was the smell. The cotton fabric imbued with my guy. Darren was with me when he wasn’t with me.

I couldn’t wait. I’m going downstairs to turn Darren on, and well f*ck him in the kitchen. He can brunch munch on my p*ssy, for starters. If he found sausages in the fridge, they could wait. I want to make his hot dog sizzle in my gob.

The mirror took my reflection; one more time. God, I was hot:  I was sexier and even more vulnerable girly because of a guy’s shirt. Strange but true.

I was bounding down the stairs. Home alone with my man; my mum no doubt sleeping over somewhere with her latest fuckbuddy. Harsh on my mum, but true.  She was a divorced MILF; she saw a pair of pants and had to take them down.

My Darren would stop buttering the breakfast muffins, scrambling eggs or whatever; because he would see me. His c*ck would get erect through his silky boxers. Then his eyes would rove from my partly exposed breasts between the undone buttons to the real prize, my p*ssy hidden centimetres above the flaps of his shirt. Mmm, flaps hiding flaps. The shirt dangling like my wet lips, poised to be lifted like my cl*t cowl, but now swaying with my happy movement down the stairs, fluttering high like butterfly wings between my sleek shaved legs.

I was through the kitchen door:

“Oh My God; you b*tch,” I exclaimed loudly, then added, “You b*st*rd.”

I needed to say both at once. I saw two things I hadn’t ever visualised together, my mum’s mouth and my boyfriend’s erect c*ck.

Well, there was a third; my mum was frickin naked. I’d seen her around the bathroom or her bedroom in her briefs. Her breasts were occasionally exposed before putting on a bra or a slutty dress, but she was never the total buff.

Near the kitchen bench:  there was my mum sucking off my Darren. His boxers were around his ankles, and his c*ck happily wrapped in my mum’s lips. I had seen it disappear to the back of her slutty throat and her tongue tip around his glans before she took his whole glistening stiff shaft: the sl*t.

“Oh honey, it’s all alright, “said mum, releasing Darren’s pecker from the sucking vacuum that was her mouth: “He’s got plenty to share; come over here.”

My mum was still tugging and yanking Darren’s c*ck while saying this.

Darren just gave me the male: Well, I have a c*ck, look: you know their excuse:  it’s a guy’s c*ck, not his feelings in a relationship that causes all men’s problems with spare women and p*n*s opportunism.

Blame my c*ck, sweetie. But you love my c*ck too.

I knew it: guys and their p*n*s obsession.

The problem was I had a c*ck addiction, and my mum was giving my favourite piece of Darren back to me. Of course, I took it.

I had my lover boy’s d*ck in my mouth. I was slurping along his already over-greased pole: thanks, mum. I didn’t have to work my semi-flaccid guy up. He was already super hard. So stiff, and I was taking him deep. I could match my mum, even though I came close to gagging a couple of times.

My mum was licking Darren’s constricting balls. Now tight against his body. Between us, we had my boy groaning.

The sexual surprise of my senior college year, taking Darren’s c*m in my mouth for the first time, was now joined by the sensation of my hand being guided onto my mother’s breast. Yes, it was a breast, and there was a hard nipple like I have. But it was my mum’s, and it was also my first time touching another woman.

Astonishments came exponentially after that, like multiple orgasms. My mum got her hand under Darren’s shirt to my shaved p*ssy. Her touch generated a sheer sensual sexual surge. The knowledge of forbidden pleasure was exceptionally good as my wetness spread out under my mother’s gliding, probing fingers. Sleek crumpled girly flesh so instantly alive to touch. Then demanding it continues.

After all, there is something in that saying: a mother’s intuition. Well, my mum knew exactly what to do.

She instructed Darren to the floor. He was prone, but his c*ck was manfully upright. My tight p*ssy eased over his c*ck as my mother had her p*ssy lips hanging over Darren’s mouth on her haunches.

I got to work on his c*ck. I was flexing up and down off the balls of my feet. My p*ssy was jamming down onto my lover boy.

My dirty mum enjoyed it as Darren jammed his tongue into her open p*ssy lips. She was moaning, the wh*r*. Still, I was watching; I could learn a p*ssy trick or two here for later enjoyment. The dirty b*tch was fingering her clitty to a climax.

I was pounding down faster on Darren’s d*ck in my excitement and the naughty pleasure of seeing my mum get herself off.

Darren was lost in male d*ck pleasure and two pussies sharing his body.

Unbelievable; I saw my mother, Judy; climax in front of me and her p*ssy leaked moisture into Darren’s mouth.

I was then manic in my actions. I arched my body up high, plunging my cunny back around Darren’s great d*ck. The pleasure was intense. My body ordained my orgasm, prescribed by the indecorous events coursing around and through the three of us.

My mum, the trollop, was now behind me. She was licking Darren’s ball bag, willing his explosion within me.  The hoe sent waves of unheralded, unbelievable pleasure through my body as she rimmed and fingered my anus. My cute private little virgin pucker hole, off limits till now to even Darren or myself. I had never ventured there.

Darren was thrusting up into me, desirous only of releasing his straining jizz wad. I was grinding into his pubic bone in clitty and p*ssy chock-full enjoyment.  My mum spat in my arsehole and was finger f*ck*ng my butt hole. The MILF slag was also somehow nibbling Darren’s nuts at the same time.

My clitty was throbbing, and my mum’s delicious arsehole work made me climax effusively. Irrepressible, ebullient happiness in myself as a woman.

Darren was driving to his release. Fixated on it, and boy did he groan loudly as he filled me.

My mum eased his c*ck out of me and surprised me again:

“S*ck it off, Justine,” she said. “While it’s tender; he won’t be able to stand it; he’ll want you to stop but not stop; s*ck it; s*ck it; Justine.”

I was bending over lover boy giving his c*ck extra dibs.

Darren was clearly in paradise as I s*ck*d off his softening to retracting flaccid d*ck.  He was caught in that blur between exquisite pleasure and near tender sensitive gratification overload.

Then my mum did the same to me. Nuzzling her head somehow between my legs from behind and slurping up Darren’s c*m juices and my girly liquid. Insanely pleasing. Beyond what a body should demand or get.  Yet once she started, my p*ssy pleaded for more through my soft moans. My clitty pushed into my mummy’s tongue, requisitioning additional pleasure and demanding it seemed a second orgasm. My greedy, needy clitty commandeering my mind to liberate my body; into its rapturous, first-ever; double climax bliss.

Darren was released. I couldn’t multi-task. Luckily: he was genuinely male-finished.

My mum was giving me the brunch munch of my life. She abducted my petite swollen clitty between her lips. Sucking me off like I had a tiny p*n*s. My clitty imploded. It burst spasms of happy pleasure through my p*ssy and my body. I was smattered with bodily ecstasy.

Darren saw my full flush. Still caught in his c*ck’s novel delight but fully aware of my new experiences too.

Mummy dear sent us both up to my bed: to snuggle and cuddle as the young, sexually active pair we were. She promised to bring up brunch for three in bed and continue instructing us two in the delights of kinky s*x.

Leanna is my best friend. Ever since that embarrassing moment in first grade, the one where I tried to admit my love for Johnny Smith, she has always been there for me. We share everything. Classes, lunches, and even secrets, but I've never seen her fall in love. It's like impossible, she's immune, never mooning over a boy or staring at a hottie. Sometimes I wonder if she's human or not.

It's my birthday today, I'm turning 19, we're in our first year of college, and Leanne decided to come over to my house. It's natural, and sometimes unexpected, but never the less, she's always welcome. At 9:00 am I finally have the house set up, Airplane Theme style. I want to become a pilot when I grow up, and Leanne supports that.

"Hey, Brie!" She says, stepping in. "You look good!"

I blush, and turn 360 degrees in the mirror. It's a super low V-neck mini dress, light blue, and super sexy. I wonder why I even