He simply rest it there at first, his fingers exploring my red hair, giving me goosebumps of pleasure. He was waiting to see if I would push it away. I didn't.He took over, controlling the pace and making me work harder, sliding my lips up and down him. It wasn't just my panties that were wet now, now my jeans were damp between my legs.He grabbed the back of my head, firmly and held me in place. He pushed his cock into my throat, I had a hard time breathing. He pushed it further and I started. Pleasure overtook his body, pleasure that had been held out of his reach for far too long. His breathing quickened, his moaning grew more and more intense. He only needed a few more minutes, just a few more and he would explode liquid pleasure into his hand.And then he heard the doorknob twist.“Why is this door locked? Wes? Are you in there?” his mother demanded.“Uh, yeah! Just taking a shower, Mom!” Wes shouted.“You don’t take showers with the door closed! We talked about this!”“Sorry! I’ll. They were heavily -- garishly -- made up with exotic eye makeup and the darkest red lipstick and matching long pointed (press-on) fingernails. They wore black sweaters and skirts, black stockings, and sharp stiletto heels that, like their fingernails,seemed like weapons -- talons to fend off aggressive men. To top it all off they wore black capes and pointed witches hats. They were sexy and scary, at the same time. They turned me on; but they alsofrightened me. "We're going to a party," mother. I let out an amused snort. "This is a new level of depravity for you, Lizzie." You mean," she whispered huskily, "you've never wanted to take this big cock of yours," she grabbed me through my pants, "and just pound away in a reluctant pussy," she took my hand with her other hand and guided it under her dress, "until you come?"My dick was hardening in response to the pressure of her hand. "I don't think that this pussy," I pressed inward against her panties-encased mound, causing her to gasp,.
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