duties i love to do - Sex Stories

duties i love to do

Brad's cock stirred in Pavlovian response to the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway. His mother was home from her early-morning aerobic workout, same thing, every day. He heard the key in the door, heard her drop her things, felt her stop at the hallway mirror and adjust her shoulder length blonde hair and look at her sweaty self, a 50-year-old body that a 30-year-old would be proud to have, a pretty face, winning smile, big brown eyes, high, perky tits firm and proud, a rather tight belly, and those legs, those long, lean, rugged -- and demanding - legs. He closed his eyes, tried to will his hard on down, he knew what was coming, what was always coming, just wasn't right. But the sheet rose above his crotch and he heard the door to his room open. She turned him on more than any other woman possibly could. He tried to fight the feeling, failing every time. "Bradley, time to rise and shine for school," his mom said softly, padding into the room and pulling open the blinds, letting the early-morning sun stream in. "I see you're already rising." Brad couldn't fake it now, even as he rolled over and tried to hide his throbbing prick under the sheets. His mom laughed to herself, then got stern "Bradley, time to clean mommy," she cooed. "Get over here and do your job, you don't want to be late for school. You know you have chores to do." 'Chores' to Brad's mommy meant licking her sweaty cunt until she felt herself clean enough to fuck. It had been this way since Brad's ...

... father moved out three years ago, since he was 18. Now a college student, Brad had endured his mother's endless pawing, her needs, her i****tuous wants for three years. As an only c***d, he had no s****r or b*****r to share the dilemma with. He was on his own and despite being a strapping lad of 6-3 and 220 pounds and a star football player, he was putty in his mom's hands - due to his mom's legs. He couldn't fight them, no one could, and that's why his dad left. Brad rolled over to look at her, as she stood peeling off her clothes until she was wearing nothing but short white socks and sneakers. Her thick, matted pussy hair was wet and oozing sweat. The aerobic room she worked out in was not air-conditioned, and this being summer, she sweat considerably. She wasn't fond of trimming her pussy hair and as women age, they grow it thicker and wider and hers was an explosion at the top of her muscular thighs and below her trim belly. She turned to show Brad her creamy white ass, kneading the meat in her hands, her hair-ringed asshole winking at him. She turned again and half squatted. Brad winced in anticipatory pain: His mom's thighs were powerfully muscled, long and lean and lined with deep creases on the side, thick ropes inside, and those calves were tall tubes of carved steel rising out of her low socks. Those legs were lethal, those legs had been scissoring Brad into eating her cunt for the last three years whenever she felt the need, and she - and those legs - felt the need ...