The Rambler part 3 - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 3

... equally calm voice. "So, what do you think? Can you make it on Saturday?" I was stupefied! "Yes, I think so. I'm sure my loving husband doesn't have any amorous plans for me." Millie's hand suddenly slipped back, grabbed my hand from my lap and pulled it over to drop it on her leg, just above her knee. She nudged my hand between her legs before slipping her own back to resume its position, clamping over my cock. Mom spoke again, her voice inquisitive rather than angry. "Millie, what are you doing with Rick's hand?" "Putting it between my legs," Millie replied, her hand sliding further up my leg so her palm was scr****g against my balls as her fingers cupped my cock. "Oh," Mom said. "Can you come on Sunday, then?" This conversation was too bizarre. "Sure." Scratch, scratch, scratch. "That's great," Mom kept contributing to this surreal interaction. "That's never going to work," she said. "That dress is far too tight." Mom reached down to grasp the hem of Millie's dress, between her legs, almost touching mine which was still holding the inside of Millie's right leg, just above her knee. She started tugging Millie's dress, trying to pull it higher. "Come on, Millie. Open your legs," Mom said. My disbelief was being replaced by the slow realization that I had been set up. Millie's legs opened, her right thigh moving until it hit mine whereupon she lifted her leg and d****d her knee over mine. Her widening thighs had caused my hand to slip higher up her leg. Mom tugged the dress ...

... higher, exposing Millie's white panties. "Is she still touching your cock?" I looked up into Mom's eyes. She was looking directly at me. "Yes." My voice was so hoarse it didn't even sound like a word to me. "Then it's fair for you to touch her." I couldn't speak. "Can you see her panties?" I nodded. Millie's hand scrunched tightly over my cock. "Touch them." I stared. Millie's pulsing mound made her panties seem alive. "She really misses Tim," Mom whispered. I pushed my hand forward, twisting at the last minute so it could cup Millie's pussy, arching my hand so the long middle finger could nestle between her puffy lips. Millie's hand tightened even more and she released a loud sigh as her panties pushed against my fingers. For several minutes, I rubbed my friend's mother's pussy while my own mom kept her dress pulled away so my hand was free to move. When her dampness soaked through to my hand and her aroma filtered up to flood our nostrils, Mom stopped us. "That's enough," she said, getting off her stool. I didn't want to stop. I was enjoying the strange situation and the feel of Millie's pussy. I wanted more. But Mom insisted, pulling Millie off the stool and away from my eager fingers. "But Mom," I protested, "she really misses Tim." "Well, she shouldn't have touched my son's cock without permission." Mom took hold of both Mom's hands and, walking backward, towed Millie out of the kitchen. Millie had trouble walking but followed, kicking one high heeled shoe away that had ...