“Phew – that was great. I’ve never been milked so dry in my life.”
“BEEP-BEEP-BEEP,” the alarm clock rejoined again as instructed by its snooze counter.
Realizing they were already ten minutes behind schedule, Jason rapidly withdrew, giving Helen one last kiss on the shoulder, “We have to clean up, mom. I’d love to have more fun, but dad’ll be home in less than an hour.”
He tore off the bulging condom, and threw it with its partner in the bedroom trash. Flipping on the light, he grabbed the trash bag and ran off downstairs to the larger disposal in the garage to destroy the evidence.
Despite the need for some haste, Helen was lost in a haze. The boy’s vigorous, ceaseless fucking; his enormous, granite penis; the countless, writhing orgasms; and the potent, continuous endorphins flooding her body had drained her completely. Only the threat of her husband’s impending return forced her to drag her enervated limbs and sore insides from the bed to the shower.
As the soapy water washed away the sweat and fluids, her mind played back the scenes of the previous hour. Although part of her was ashamed, much of her relished reliving the shocking positions, his rippling abs against her fingers, the state of being completely overpowered by unrelenting masculinity, exquisite sensations from hitherto undiscovered regions within her, the desperate French kisses, and, of course, that wonderful, marvelous cock. She gently massaged her sore pussy, tracing the sensation from her opening all the way past her navel.
“Jesus, I’ve never been fucked so deep and so hard before. I can still kinda feel him pounding away.”
In awe, she remembered that Jason had still been fully erect after his second orgasm. She wondered if he had a limit. She wondered if they’d ever each hers.
Languidly, she exited the shower, wrapped in a towel and faced the large sink mirror. Even as aches ravaged her body and a million thoughts ran through her mind, she realized that she looked more relaxed and serene than ever before. In an unprecedented gesture, she dropped the towel to reveal her figure. Surprisingly, her body, seemingly more robust and younger than ever, seemed to glow, and for first time in years, she beamed when she saw her ample bust and butt in her side-profile.
When she reentered her bedroom, relief washed over her as she found new sheets spread over the bed. The old sheets and the clothes the lovers had discarded were nowhere to be seen. Air freshener pervaded the room air, though subtle hints of the musky flavor of their rendezvous still lingered.
Suddenly, it made sense why Jason suddenly became so oddly compliant in tidying his room in the last few years. Realizing the behavior was highly unusual for a teenage boy, she had always attributed the change to his growing sense of responsibility or perhaps an attempt to impress some of the girls he brought home. Now she knew that he’d simply become proficient at destroying the evidence after his various indiscretions.
As she changed into a nightgown and retired to bed, she jealously wondered which other women he had been with. She had seen the various high-school and college girls come and go, but given his self-admitted predilection for older women, it was obvious that he’d slept with women her age. Her bridge-club friends? The mothers of his girlfriends? Teachers? His tutor? Irene? Mary? Linda? Virginia? Elizabeth?