On her knees before the teenager, Donna Moore had one heart stopping moment of panic as she took his stiff cock out of his pants. If her husband or son or daughter walked in the house at this moment and saw her…
They wouldn't believe what they saw anyway.
For one thing, her appearance was stunningly different. Kneeling before the groaning boy, Donna's eyes blazed with fierce passion as her ripe tits panted in a low cut, see through black bra, with openings for her swollen red nipples. Her hot silken ass was almost naked, the sheer bikini panties hugging their juicy curves. The panties were crotchless, so that her dripping pink cunt peeped through obscenely.
Her ass weaved lewdly now as she thrust the boy's long rod into her eager lips. Donna began to suck him off with low urgent whimpers, one hand stroking his prick while the other gently squeezed his big balls. The cuckoo, clock on the wall suddenly hooted, and she almost fainted with nervous fright. Then she remembered she was in her kitchen blowing a handsome young stranger, young enough to be her own son.
And in a tremendously excited way, the sexy, moaning brunette wished he were her, son.
"Geez, Missus – unnnnnf! – Missus Moore – wow, wow! – you're too – Mmmmmf! – too hungry!" he gasped.
So hungry she was battering her throat with his boiling knob. But up until two hours ago, Donna Moore was a quiet, pretty housewife no different than millions of others, except perhaps for her lushly curved tits and ass and long, silken legs. She'd kept up her figure through twenty years of marriage, and the occasional furtive desire she felt to screw around on her husband was quickly pushed to the back of her mind. After all, she had a solid, ruggedly handsome husband, a lovely daughter and a son. Her sex life was hardly exciting, but adequate.
Then the package came.
Sheer, overpowering curiosity drove Donna to open the package. It wasn't hers and she had an eerie feeling of guilt when she tore at the gummed tape, but she couldn't resist the urge.
No more than she could resist the wild urge – and the deadly risk in this small town – of going down with feverish lust on an innocent boy. He was lunging his hips eagerly now, his pants almost down to his knees as he fucked Donna's frantic mouth.
And when the shy, soft spoken housewife of thirty-nine opened the large box she had no idea she was opening a Pandora's Box of lust. And not the slightest hint her life would be changed forever, plunged into such raw, violent sex her entire family would be sucked up into the wild vortex. Especially her luscious, innocent daughter.
The empty box still lay on the kitchen floor beside her. She could feel the boy's hot prick beginning to harden and swell in her furiously sucking lips and she whimpered for his come. Anxious as she was to gulp down his boiling jism, it was only an exciting preliminary for the madly aroused brunette. She didn't want him shooting off his sweet young come inside her pussy in three minutes flat. In her tingling mouth yes, in her soaked, throbbing cunt, no.
She was blowing him first to take the sharp edge off his feverish excitement. Then if he could stay with her even for only ten minutes, she would have a deliriously exciting memory, a hot delicious fuck she could re-live in her mind through the dull routine of her day.
Her fist jerked him off faster as his grunts became louder and she whipped her sultry mouth back and forth on his surging rod to a frenzied tempo, craving that first boiling gush in her mouth. God, he was hung! Not nearly as hung as her own son, but Dan was older and built like a husky bull. She reminded herself with alarm that mothers weren't supposed to think like that.
But mothers weren't supposed to suck and fuck strangers on their kitchen floors at eleven in the morning, either.
"Holy – Holy shit, missus Moore -gonna come! Whooo! Wheeeewww! Your mouth – ummmmmmmmm – gonna shoot now, aaaaaaaaah! Oooooof! Jeez i-it's – oooooo, Christ!"
He lunged his naked hips rapidly as Donna sucked and stroked his bursting prick with frantic moans, a blissful depraved joy exploding in her blood as his thick come began to gush. She swallowed it in greedy gulps, loving the sweet creamy stickiness burning her throat, so different from her husband's salty juice. Her son's would be like this, she thought lustfully, and she suddenly wanted Dan's come everywhere on her milk white flesh, on her huge sweating tits and deep inside her pulsing cunt, flooding her mouth and spurting deep into her tender asshole.
She'd never harbored lewd urges like this before. It began when the box came…
Drained of every molten drop, the boy slipped his limp cock out of her mouth and stepped back, dazed. Kee-rist, wait'll he told the guys about this!
All Freddie knew was he'd rung her doorbell a few minutes ago selling magazine subscriptions. When she opened the door, his throat felt suddenly dry and his prick throbbed wildly in his pants. Housewives didn't look like this, especially in the morning. They wore hair curlers and dirty robes and looked sullen and tired.
He'd been greeted by a tall, fantastically sexy brunette. Her dark eyes glowed beneath heavy eyeshadow and her careless robe revealed lush creamy tits spilling out over her sheer bra. Freddie stammered his pitch, she'd invited him in and ten minutes later – wow! wow! Not only that, she'd bought a subscription first. She was so hot, she practically raped him. It didn't make sense to Freddie's naive mind, not in this quiet neighborhood anyway. The guys wouldn't believe him.
He stared down at her as she continued to stroke and lick his deflated rod, her gorgeous tits panting furiously. Maybe she was a nympho like Bessie Garst at school. Bessie fucked anyone and everyone for a quarter, lifting her dress to wriggle her pussy in the bushes. She liked it so much she did it on credit too. But Bessie was a dog, with acne, and this ravishing knockout was a pin-up straight from a magazine. She must be a nympho. She was moaning softly and licking his cock like an ice cream cone, until it was getting hot and stiff again.
"Your first?" she whispered, eyes blazing up at him. "Did you ever have sex before, Freddie?"
"Yes, ma'm," he stammered, flushing. "But only once." With Bessie. Whose hot little cunt was no match for her tight, boiling mouth.
Donna was disappointed. She'd hoped he was a cherry, that she'd be the first so he'd never forget her. She stood up, wrapping her arms around him and obscenely grinding her moist pussy to his stiffening prick. God, if John came home right now and saw her in this stunning outfit, dry fucking a boy whose pants were down to his ankles! His hot meat was rubbing against her wet cunt lips, sparking delicious thrills.
"Come on with me," she whispered. He slipped out of his pants and started to unbutton his shirt, but she stopped him. "Leave it on," she told him. It was far more guilty and exciting this way, with him half dressed and herself still wearing a bra and panties. She felt like a cheap whore giving a quickie and she loved the feeling.
She led him into the living room. Dog style, she thought feverishly. No tender foreplay, no hugging and kissing, just raw obscene sex, hot furious fucking. Donna hunched over the arm of the sofa, placing her palms on the seat. She spread her legs behind her wide and began undulating her ass in lewd circles of invitation. Her pink slit sucked eagerly through the crotchless panties.
"Go ahead," she urged hoarsely. "Stick it in, Freddie! Fuck me, honey, just drive it in all the way. Hurry!"
Freddie was so aroused at the sight of her creamy ass weaving and her juicy cunt pulsating hungrily he was afraid he'd shoot off before he ever got it in. He stood between her legs and gripped her burning ass cheeks in his hands, spreading them. Holding his breath, the boy nudged his knob against her pussy lips and then slid it in.
"S-Shit, that's – wow! – that's wild, missus Moore!Wheeeeeew! That's hot, oooooooooo Christ that's tight, mmmmmm!"
"Yes, yesssss," Donna moaned, clasping her thrilled pussy tightly on his long rod. Lord, his burning meat felt good! It quivered and grew rock hard in her feverish slit, beginning to pump in and out with delicious friction. Donna began swinging her ass eagerly, first up and down and then from side to side, sucking in her breath as his shaft rubbed and throbbed against her tingling walls.
"Yes, fuck me! Mmmmmmmmmm, I love your darling prick, Freddie! Love your hot meat, honey! Aaaaaaaaah, deeper, faster, harder – oooooooh! Love to fuck, unnnnnnnnnngh!"
With a shock, Donna realized she'd never used words like that before either. Her sex with her husband was punctuated with soft moans and squeals of delight, with tender words like "Love me harder" and "Deeper, darling, deeper". But the vulgar words were firing her excitement deliriously, and she began raving and clawing at the sofa seat savagely.
"Ooooo, fuck it faster, darling boy! Every inch yes! Every unnnnnf!Hot inch of your big prick, Freddie! Ram me, fuck me, hurt me, give it all to me aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The sobbing, thrashing brunette was already in the spasms of her first climax. The feel of his balls slapping harshly against her thighs while his blazing knob battered deep in her cunt triggered a violent orgasm. She whipped her drenched pussy in a fury on his hot meat, wriggling and squirming and pumping her slippery crack with eager cries.
"G-gonna come, missus Moore!"
Freddie gasped. Her luscious cunt was sucking his load out of him with lustful power, and the boy squeezed her silken ass tightly in his fingers and gritted his teeth. Goddamn, what a roller-coaster ride! Her juicy, boiling slit thrashed on his exploding rod in a fever of excitement and Freddie barely had to move because the crying brunette was doing all the pumping now.
"My-my rocks coming off! Ooooooooh shit what cunt! Oh Christ missus – aaaaaagh! – Missus Moore, what pussy!"
And his obscene groans triggered a second fiery orgasm in her loins, racing to every tingling nerve in her sweating flesh as his come gushed into her frenzied cunt. Even after the last few boiling drops trickled into her throbbing slit, Donna hugged his meat fiercely.
Jeesuz, she won't let me out! Freddie thought in a panic. A horrible vision flashed in his mind, of his prick locked savagely in her pussy while he stood there helplessly as her husband walked in the door. He'd seen dogs locked like that and they wrestled and bounced and howled trying to wrench free.
Terrified, Freddie jerked his soft meat out and stepped back with a shaking sigh of relief. His simple mind didn't know that vaginismus, as cunt locking was medically termed, occurred only rarely in humans, or that in eighteenth-century France when adulterers were caught in the unfortunate spasm, they were wheeled on a cart naked through the streets of Paris and jeered at and pelted by rotten fruit.
"That was wild, Missus Moore," he panted, staring at her creamy ass. It still shuddered with bliss and her madly sucking pussy dripped obscenely. "I'll be ready again in a couple minutes," he added proudly.
Slowly, Donna stood up. Her mind whirled with a strange mixture of fierce excitement and sudden fear. The impact of what she'd done in her frantic excitement dawned on her, making her ripe curves tremble.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head quickly. "Listen, Freddie, you'd better go now – fast. I… I've never done this before. I don't know what came over me. You'd better dress and leave. Hurry."
Her fear was contagious. Freddie rushed back to the kitchen and slipped his pants on. She followed him, her huge tits panting with her lingering orgasm and sudden fright.
"Listen," she said intensely when he was dressed and ready to leave. She grabbed him by the shoulders savagely, her eyes boring into his. "Listen, Freddie. Not a word of this to anyone, understand? You could ruin my life in this town if it came out. Try to understand! Don't boast to your friends or girls, don't put it in a diary, don't ever come by here again." She shook him so violently he gaped at her. "Try to understand, Freddie! I have a family, a boy about your age! If this came out…"
Freddie nodded, gulping. The switch from raw hot lust to paranoid caution unnerved him. Hell, he was only going to let his best buddies in on it, no one else. They could be trusted.
"Sure, sure, I understand, Missus Moore, honest. Not a word. It's our secret." He paused, licking his lips, his prick beginning to rise hotly again as he watched her big silken tits heave. "Can I call you in a couple days?"
She was about to scream no when she realized that would guarantee disaster. Keep him on the string if necessary, but keep his mouth shut at all costs.
"Yes, do that, honey, call me first. Then we'll see about another meeting. Run along now, Freddie."
At the door he paused. "Don't worry about a thing, Missus Moore. I swear, not a word to anyone." Except for Al and Freddie, and just maybe Joe. They were men of the world like himself.
"Thank you," Donna whispered, tears in her eyes. When the door shut behind him she found her cigarettes and lit one with shaking fingers. Madness! My God, what came over her? Risking everything for a wild urge and a few minutes of obscene excitement, for a sordid quickie with a mere boy! That Goddamned package… if only she hadn't opened it!
She paced the floor, trying to calm herself down. All right, so she'd slipped once in twenty years of marriage. It wasn't exactly a crisis. Just this once and never again. He wouldn't tell, he was a sweet boy. And he had such an adorable prick… so hot and thick and eager…
Donna went upstairs and drew a hot bath. First scrub off the makeup and soap her naked body down thoroughly. Washing away the guilt, she thought dryly. She felt much better after a few minutes in the steaming water, much calmer. The whole crazy episode happened so fast, so spontaneously she felt like a puppet being helplessly jerked into action. Like a frantic hot dream. Open the box, try some of the clothes on, get wildly aroused, suck and fuck an passing boy, beg him for secrecy, go crazy with fear and guilt. That fast.
Donna rested one long, silken leg on the rim of the bathtub and caressed soap onto it, her fingers trailing teasing circles near her pulsing cunt lips. Just this once, so now she had a vivid memory to cling to, a delicious hot fuck to remember when John's familiar cock plunged into her tonight. The thought sent wild shivers up her spine. She mustn't get too excited tonight or he'd suspect. But who would suspect quiet, soft spoken Donna, the eternally faithful housewife and loyal mother?
Her pussy still throbbed with tingles of lust. Maybe it hadn't been the package, maybe it was the sight of her naked son yesterday in the hallway. He was coming back from the shower when his draped towel slipped, and for a few madly arousing moments she'd seen his immense dangling cock and huge balls, framed by a thick mass of blonde curly hair. At that moment she could have dropped to her knees and sucked her handsome son off with wild whimpers of lust. Did other mothers ever have obscene ideas like that?
But most other mothers didn't have husky sons hung like Dan. Or luscious daughters like Jenny, with her sweet ripe mouth and golden budding tits and silken, tawny flesh..
No, Donna thought, it was the Goddamned package, the big box left on her doorstep by the relief mailman. Their regular was on vacation and the current mailman was only a boy, unfamiliar with the neighborhood. So he'd left the large package on her doorstep, even though it wasn't her address. The numbers were the same, 427O, but the street was different, and the name. She lived on Willow Drive and the box was addressed to 427O Viewpoint Drive, half a mile away. The name was Mrs. Georgia Langley.
Just a mistake by a clumsy new mailman. An innocent mistake triggering a whole new destiny, a bizarre, violent chain of adventures that would alter their sex lives forever…
Donna hefted the box curiously in her fingers, hearing a faint thud. She'd call Mrs. Langley and the grateful woman would probably drive by to pick it up. The return address said Secret Fashions, Incorporated. Donna didn't call Mrs. Langley just yet. She did the breakfast dishes, wondering what was so secret about Secret Fashions? Her curiosity rose to a near fever as she caressed and played with the box. She loved to get things by mail, ordering them and forgetting so it would always be a surprise.
Why didn't she open the box just to take a peek? She'd tell Mrs. Langley that she was expecting a package and didn't even bother to check the address, just ripped it open before she realized it wasn't hers.
"Pandora's Box," Donna whispered, smiling. She'd always loved that story, the mystery of unnamed secrets lurking in a simple box..
Just a peek, that's all.
Her heart hammering nervously, Donna tore at the gummed tape, cursing herself for being such a snoop. Inside the huge package was another box, it too sealed, dammit. There was a bill taped to that box, for $275. It wasn't cheap, whatever it was, probably a gown. Donna tore that box open with trembling fingers.
Her eyes widened with shock and she let out a soft cry.
Good God, it was dirty! She lifted a pair of sheer, lacey pink panties embroidered with erotic screwing figures, gaping at the slit where the crotch should be. There were a half-dozen pair of panties and bras, and a sleek black body stocking with apertures for nipples and pussy!
But it was another box that really caught her attention. She sucked in her breath with astonishment as she lifted the lid. It was a prick! An enormous hard rubber cock, curved gigantically upward with dozens of big mounds covering its length. It was attached to a removable harness.
Trembling with fierce curiosity and utter fascination, Donna read the instructions. It was battery operated. She flicked on the switch and it hummed and leaped in her hand, startling her. How could anyone possibly shove this monster up their vagina? And why did it come with a harness? The instructions didn't say but Donna realized with a crimson face it was meant to be worn so one woman could screw another!
For the first time in her life, Donna Moore realized how sheltered and innocent she was, even at thirty-nine. She knew what vibrators were used for, obviously, but she'd never seen an artificial prick and never dreamed they could be strapped on to ravish and thrill eager girls… She blushed with shame, calling herself a hick and a country girl.
Well, that's what she was, really, raised in a small peaceful town, marrying her high-school boyfriend, even remaining a virgin until her wedding night. So what? Life was meant to be peaceful and quietly happy, wasn't it?
Who needed a bunch of weird obscene thrills like this shocking stuff to feel happy? Apparently, Mrs. Georgia Langley did. Donna felt a deep, intense curiosity about the woman, wondering what sort of housewife in a town like this would use such grotesque gimmicks for depraved excitement. Did she actually fuck girls or women?
The thought sent an eerie thrill through Donna's blood, followed by the horrifying idea that girls like her own beautiful daughter might not be safe with a menace like Georgia Langley around. The idea of Jenny being brutally raped in her virgin slit – and Jenny was a virgin, Donna knew, because she always told her mother the truth about things like that – filled the pretty brunette with rage, and the strangest feeling of… forbidden lust.
The instructions for the giant dildo cautioned that excessive use could lead to addiction. Really! Donna thought, laughing out loud. She switched on the dildo and pressed it to her cheek, feeling it quiver the nerves there wildly. Who needed this weird monster when she had a hot, thrilling big cock like her husband's to excite her? Still, it might be fun just to… try it out one time.
There was a black, short handled whip in the box too, with a dozen vicious looking black thongs. Christ, this Georgia Langley must be weird! Did she punish with it or get punished?
All the while Donna probed the contents of the box, a fierce, throbbing excitement was rippling through her soft flesh. One thing was absolutely certain, she decided. She couldn't call the woman now, not after opening the box and seeing the horrible contents. It would be far too embarrassing for both of them. She'd simply repack and seal the box and return it to sender. No note or anything. Let those weirdos figure it out.
The woman was her size, too, Donna thought with rising excitement. Just for the hell of it – who would know? – she'd try a few things on, sort of get dressed up. They were disgusting, of course, but they were very, very sexy. Especially compared to her drab underthings. Just once, for fun.
Trembling with wild excitement and curiosity, Donna stripped in the living room. She snapped on a sexy black bra which hugged and emphasized her lush tits, and slipped on a pair of crotchless black panties. Tingling with girlish excitement, as though she were going to an orgy, Donna stepped in front of a full-length mirror and caught her breath.
Quickly, she took the pins out of her hair and the shimmering chestnut tresses fell loose, halfway down her waist. Christ, she was beautiful! She never realized how utterly sexy she was until now, how sultry and ripely curved and statuesque.
Fiercely aroused now, Donna ran upstairs and got her makeup. She seldom wore any, using, it sparingly for a night out on the town dancing or nightclubbing. Now the breathless brunette applied mascara and eyeshadow and lipstick in great dashes, accentuating her lustrous dark eyes and full, sensuous mouth.
She hurried back downstairs to the full-length mirror, stunned at the total effect. Tears came to her eyes and she felt a firestorm of emotions whirling in her sleek creamy flesh. All these dull, drab years of hiding her lush sexiness beneath a frumpy disguise of shapeless dresses and pinned up hair and shy smiles! Gazing before the fantastic transformation, Donna felt as if she'd missed out on everything, hadn't ever really lived at all. She was gorgeous, absolutely mouth watering for any man. She actually looked like a pinup in Playboy. Her fingers lasciviously caressed her plump swollen tits and darted down to her moist thighs. Her cunt had begun to pulse hotly as she stared at her own voluptuous body.
The wild idea came to her that she'd dress up like this for John tonight, surprise the hell out of him, probably give him the biggest hard-on of his life. But what if he thought she looked cheap and obscene? After all, he was small town like her, cautious and conservative. You always screwed in bed, never in the shower or in the living room, he usually got on top although they experimented a little. He didn't like it dog style and for some odd reason she loved it that way. He let her take the initiative when it came to blowjobs, and they'd been married for five years before she even snuggled down there one night and sucked him off with wild curiosity.
And she never even confessed to her husband her strange desire to get fucked in the ass with his huge prick just once, just to satisfy her driving curiosity. He'd really be shocked if he knew that. Or her eager fantasies about being fucked in her creamy ripe tits, having him come all over them so she could lick it up with soft moans of lewd joy.
She thrust such thoughts out of her mind, knowing he'd be shocked and upset. She was the quiet, demure housewife and mother, so typical she could scream at times. No, she decided with a long sigh, she wouldn't dress up in this wild, sexy outfit for John tonight or any other night. She'd pack it up again and return it to the sender.
But her hot cunt was throbbing feverishly now, demanding satisfaction. She dipped a finger inside and watching herself through smoldering eyes, slowly began to fingerfuck herself with low passionate moans, fiercely aroused by her own stunning sexiness. She'd pretend her finger was a massive, thrilling prick plunging deep into her boiling pussy. She was sobbing and hunching feverishly on her flicking finger when the doorbell rang.
Her heart almost stopped. Suppose it was John or one of the kids? They never came home at this time of the day, but [missing text].
She peered, holding her breath, through the door lens. It was a guy selling something. He was cute, really, she thought with lust still stirring hotly in her loins. She slipped her robe on over her bra and panties and opened the door.
And then it began. Her cunt seeping hotly, her loins hammering with desire, on the verge of orgasm from her masturbating, and she caught herself staring at his crotch, at the big bulge in his tight pants, wondering, feverishly wondering…
The boy was gaping at her milky cleavage, his prick obviously rising in his pants as she talked to him in the kitchen, taking an order for a magazine, any magazine. Such a handsome boy, such a hung boy, so excited like she was. She'd never seen him before and surely she'd never see him again. Who would know? Just once and never, never again, she told herself fervently, her tits panting nervously and her fingers trembling, itching to unzip his fly and unleash his coiled hot cock.
She licked her lips and her heart fluttered in her chest as she actually put her hand on his bulge, feeling it leap and quiver at her lustful touch. Just a quick blowjob, she urged herself, hot young come spurting down her throat, because she was so maddeningly hot and aroused.
In the bathtub now, Donna shuddered softly as she re-lived the fast, frenzied encounter, the violent suck and fuck. She hadn't even seduced him, she realized with a shock, she'd raped the boy. What if he was boasting about her to his pals now? And what if the word got around town, spread like wildfire in this gossip hungry hick town? And John and Dan and Jenny found out?
"No!" she cried aloud. It would be all right. She'd pack the stuff up again and send it back today, and today's obscene quickie would soon be forgotten.
But the desire to meet Mrs. Georgia Langley was strong. They shared a secret in common now, and Donna had to know what she was like, ugly or beautiful, sexy or plain. Did she suck and fuck innocent boys too, or girls, raping them with the gigantic humming cock until they fainted with joy?
Donna got out of the bath and toweled herself down, lingering on her tits and thighs, already throbbing with new heat. Something was wrong, she knew. Some tiny spark of uncontrollable lust had been fired into a roaring blaze when she'd opened that damn box. She'd wait just one more day before returning it, just one day. So she could try on all the clothes and secretly admire her own lush sexiness, and maybe just once, tease and fuck herself with the monstrous cock.
She found herself pulled, as if by some magnetic current of lust, into her son's bedroom. She searched his drawers, looking for something, anything.. She found a jockstrap in his closet, its odor pungent from his sweating cock and balls.
Then Donna searched her daughter's bedroom until she found her laundry, selecting a pair of frilly blue panties. She raised them to her face, trembling from head to toe as the fragrance of Jenny's virgin cunt filled her nostrils.
Her own cunt now pulsed and ached feverishly as she brought her son's jockstrap and her daughter's panties into her bedroom. She'd fuck herself just once with the humming prick, while she dreamed of furious, obscene sex with Dan and Jenny, sucking his enormous prick and then Jenny's delicious hot pussy, kissing her cherry in a frenzy of hunger.
Even then the wildly aroused brunette knew this would be no more than a ritual of torment and teasing. Only the real thing could satisfy her fierce urges.
She lay back on the bed with her throbbing pussy oozing juice, the gigantic dildo poised over it, her hot mouth eagerly kissing and licking Jenny's fragrant panties.
She really never should have opened that Goddamned box. Pandora's Box would be child's play compared to the unleashed furies in that bizarre package. With it she'd opened the secret hot furies in her own mind, in everyone's mind, patiently waiting for the right moment, for the perfect timing to thunder out with violence.
Donna Moore's moment had come, in a quiet, peaceful town basking in the sunshine on a bright summer morning. It lay innocently sealed in a box on her doorstep.
And once unleashed, the obscene furies in that box would never leave her..