The Rambler part 3 - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 3

... Neither mom answered. They were uncharacteristically silent, lying over the seat, arms stretched out onto the blanket, faces turned down. I looked at Tim, resolving that we really must stop this before it got further out of hand. Tim's face wore as shocked an expression as I was feeling, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at his mom's behind. I followed his gaze down to his mother's ass and the cock lodged between her cheeks, just in time to understand the look on Tim's face, to see myself slide all the way into Millie's pussy, to feel the clutching squish of her striated cunt as my cock passed through it. It was as if time stood still. Tim stared. I froze. Then, I pulled out, in slow motion. Both moms were silent and still, even Millie, who had just received the full length of my cock. I pulled right out and let my cock hung suspended in the air an inch behind Millie's delicious ass. I looked at Tim, horror mixing with confusion on my face. Tim stare blankly back at me, then looked down at my own mother's bottom. He pulled back, allowing his cock to spring up from between her legs and then, turning to look at me, slid forward, overcoming the briefest resistance before plunging deep inside Mom, forcing a heavy exhalation from her lungs. I nudged my cock back to Millie's ass, found her slit, and pushed inside. Tim and I looked at each other, both pulling back, than slamming in. We began fucking in unison, gearing up to match stroke for stroke, reaching forward to ...

... grasp our moms' waists at the same time, lunging, earnestly fucking, concentrating now, each intent on doing the best for the woman kneeling in front of him. We grunted with the effort, our knees digging into the coarse grass for leverage, struggling to follow as we pushed the seat and our moms further onto the blanket. We leaned over to rest our heads on our mothers' backs, on top of their flipped up skirts pushed up under their breasts and still covering their heads. We looked at each other as we fucked, our heads rocking as our mothers' backs reacted to each hunch of our hips. I watched Tim slide his hands under Mom's blouse and grabbed her tits. I imagined her long nipples being squeezed between his fingers, helped along by her groaning response. I did the same with Millie, finding her tits to be larger than Mom's but with short, fat nipples. I pulled them down hard, pinching, as I slammed into her hard, pleased by the loud grunt my effort produced. I made it happen again, and again, and again. What are the odds that we both came together? But we did. Loudly. Moaning and grunting as if nobody could hear. Well, so what? We were alone except for the distant farmhouse, and the birds. Tim and I exchanged places while our mothers' heads were still covered by their skirts. When she could speak, still gasping for breath, Mom turned around and admonished us. "What are you boys thinking? We're not schoolgirls you can trade around." "Oh Mary," Millie gasped. "Lighten up. You can see ...