Unspoken Pleasure by Erotica

Mom Does Anything:>Ep42

My cock remembered too, swelling and thickening; the new tightness in my boardshorts made me grimace as I tried to get comfortable. Was Mom watching as my hard-on grew?

I was sitting on the side next to Mom's chair, and she had angled her head in our direction. Was she enjoying this? I wasn't a mind reader, and normally I wouldn't have asked, but I was going to ask her about this after Jenna had left. This was not my mother from a few days ago. This wasn't even my mother from a few hours ago.

Touch your girl, my cock yelled at me.

So I did.

"Undo your bra," I said loud enough for my mother to hear. "Unless you want an uneven tan."

"Is that okay, Mrs. Hornsby?" Jenna asked, looking at me over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow.

"As long as you behave yourselves," Mom said in a low tone. "But your bottoms stay on. This isn't my living room."

looked at me, her cheeks rosy. She had to say that, didn't she, her smile said. Her fingers went to her back, undoing

my left hand over, dumping the oil into the center of Jenna's back. My right hand followed, pushing into the warm pool, displacing it across Jenna's skin. She had young skin--taut skin--that felt thicker than my mother's, but there wasn't much difference between how they made me feel. I moved my hands over Jenna's shoulders, rubbing them and slipping my thumbs across her neck. Jenna pulled her long hair to the front, and as

whispered, a wide, playful smile on her lips. Massage me was our secret code to play out the massage creep

the first place. So, I pushed my fingers into Jenna's skin, rubbing the oil between her shoulder blades and onto her lower back, tracing her spine and getting a quick thrill from the firmness of her body. Jenna uttered several moans, nothing too sexual, soft at first, but as my mother continued to lay silent on her lounge chair, Jenna's utterances gained

heels of my palms touched her panty line as I rubbed the oil into her skin. I moved upward from her sides to her ribs, cupping her body and resting my fingers along her front while my thumbs slid along her back. As I approached the side of Jenna's breasts, her body tensed, and she turned her face to the left, looking away from my

whisper of breath that

teenage mounds. Mom's breasts had bounced back after I had squeezed them, but Jenna's reacted faster, with more perkiness, but Mom's tits allowed me to mold my hands to them without a fight. I couldn't have said whose I liked better based on feeling alone. (I don't know how any man could choose another woman over his mother or the woman he

her puckered nipples as they pointed skyward, then her flat stomach, and then the patch of cloth over her cunny that gripped her meat so tight I could see the outline of her slit. I couldn't tell if my mother was wet, her black nylon made that impossible, but I believed she

as soon as

twat so I could concentrate on Jenna, I slid down the lounge chair so that my ass was near Jenna's knees, giving me the perfect angle to reach forward and run my hands over the thick

bottle over Jenna's crack and poured oil over her thong, making her tense, but Mom said nothing. I moved lower, hitting her lower cheeks and the small gap between her thighs, the gusset of her thong soaking up as much of the oil as possible. Jenna spread her legs until the right one hit my thigh. I drizzled more of the oil along her outer pussy lips. My girlfriend ran her left hand--the hand farthest from my mother--between her legs from below, grabbed her panties. She pulled them tight between her

had her head angled in our direction. She's not faking sleep, I thought, but whatever this game was, I wasn't

hands, my fingers stretching, and my palms open and wide, ready to grasp my girlfriend's teen ass. Was Mom going to stop me with a gotcha moment? I don't know why I thought she would, but I did--it made no sense, but neither did this. My hands hovered over Jenna's cheeks. She inhaled, her breath shaky as my shadow loomed over her backside. I