“Say it, Ash. Say, ‘I like my son fucking me.'”
“No!”
Holly was flabbergasted at the response.
The spasming beauty continued. “I LOVE my son fucking me!”
It was a pleasant surprise for the psychologist who, upon hearing the illicit affirmation, plunged two fingers into her horny hole.
“That’s my girl,” cooed the redhead.
Hearing his mother proclaim that she LOVED him fucking her, the mind-blowing feeling of her affectionate and syrupy cunt, the building low sound of flesh against flesh—all while the naked and sexy therapist is watching this frigging herself—ratcheted up his motions. A surge of unbridled lust overtook the young Adonis as his stroking of Ashley’s twat morphed into pummeling. The blonde’s ecstasy was flying off the charts.
“So big! So good!” was her wanton assessment of the hard and satisfying cock she denied herself of for so long.
Ashley impatiently wanted and needed more of the young penis. So her long legs wrapped themselves around John, pulling him in deeper to her blistering, creamy slit.
“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed. The jackknifing of his mother’s legs forced his locomotive cock even further into her buttery recesses. It was an erotic undertow, as her cuntal muscles pulled him down into her searing, aching, pink depths. It resulted in the multiplying of his excitement and his penile head nudging her cervix. This made Ashley expel a long, drawn out groan.
The naked mother was white-hot horny. Her sexual self-confidence roared back as she arched her shapely body, hedonistically accepting the vigorous, intentional strikes John’s manhood was providing. Her undulating hips matched his fuck rhythm. As good as he gave, she gave good back. Every downward stroke of his was met by an upward shove of hers.
“Ahhh, mom! You’re the best piece of ass I have had!” the hung lad proclaimed.
Sweat began to pour off of the young stallion as John re-doubled the strength in his arms and proceeded to drive his zealous erection even more into Ashley’s pulsing nook. John was banging his mother like an open barn door in a tornado. Her overflowing cream now made the acoustics of wet, slapping flesh all the more louder. The sex went from illicit to illicitly raunchy. The meaty goodness of her son’s cock was wonderful to the divorcee.
“Ohhhh, yes, honey! Fuck me! Fuck your mommy! I need it so, so bad! And your dick feels soooo damn good!”
This was music to the randy therapist. Reclining on the lounger, Holly’s heated vagina was releasing a current of juice. The self-pleasuring redhead, with three fingers in her fervid and lathered gap, was on her way to her second orgasm as she watched with blatant lust John bedding Ashley.
“Fuck your mother, John! Fuck her! Don’t stop!” she lecherously egged on.
Both lovers heard Holly but were so lost in their own torrid and forbidden world, neither looked at the psychologist. Ashley and John’s mating was feral, and could easily rival that of beasts in the wild. The faster he fucked her, the hornier she got and thus the harder she fucked back. Their grunts could be the soundtrack for a NatGeo special on gorillas. Mother and son, crazed with lust, simply could not get enough of one another.