Molly was bored. Sundays were the worst. They had gone to church. Michael played the guitar at contemporary service. He was the last person who should be up there singing about Jesus. He was a degenerate. She loved that he was. She felt a little badly she had gotten him sucked into playing in the band but watching him suffer through the same set of simple songs each week gave her a sadistic thrill she typically needed black boots and a riding crop to satisfy.
The rest of Sunday was spent at the home improvement store and sitting on the couch. It was still cold. No, they weren't snowed in or anything but for her 50 degrees was too chilly to do anything fun. Where the fuck was spring? She wanted to pull out her shorts. She wanted to put on a bikini. She wanted to get a little sunburned. Winter was getting old.
She occupied herself with mom duties until the Simpsons came on and then she finally collapsed on the couch beside him. His older son, from his first marriage, disappeared to do homework, their daughter, now nine, liked to act like a high school trollop but couldn't help but go comatose in front the TV when cartoons came on.
Michael sat at one end of the couch and Molly laid across it with her feet in his lap. When he failed to massage them as he was expected to she began to press her heels into his groin. Through his jeans, she felt him grow hard and so she pressed harder, kneading his balls with her heels.
"Don't start something you don't plan to finish," he said quietly. She grinned and straightened her leg until her heel had to be pushing his balls up his ass. Not literally of course. He groaned a little.
When the show ended he walked her to bed. There was giggling. She heard him check in on his son. She slipped off the couch to the bedroom. She pulled off her robe and stripped naked except for her panties and then pulled the thick terry cloth wrapper back over her. She prepared to wait, he didn't make her wait long. He slipped into the bedroom and pulled the door closed locking the bloodhound they had rescued in the other room.
"He will howl," she warned.
"I gave him a bone."
"Aww," she teased. "That's what i wanted."
"Come here," he said. he as standing at the foot of the bed. She rolled and crawled to him, finally sitting, her feet curled up beneath her ass, at the edge of the bed.
He leaned down to kiss her. As they kissed his hands gathered her tangle of red curls up as if he was going to put her hair in a ponytail. She tugged at his belt and his jeans.
By the time she had freed his cock, he had her hair locked in his hand. He growled, kissed her a last time, and then moved her head forcefully to his cock. He was tall, the bed was a little higher than normal, the angle was perfect.
She focussed on keeping her mouth open and her tongue pressed to his dick, he did the rest, rocking his hips slightly and tugging her by the hair up and down his shaft.
he could get close, so close she could taste the first salty hint of his load but he wouldn't finish.
"That's a good girl," he said and the words triggered a deeper excitement. She placed a single finger on the hood of her clit. She felt the pressure through the thin sat panties.
"You can touch it but don't make it come."
She moaned in protest, his cock in her throat making it impossible to say more.
He waited until he was right there, on edge, before he pulled her head back off of him.
"You want it?"
"Please!" Molly begged, hungrily, only exaggerating a little. She really did want it.
"Tell me!" he said softly. He pulled her up until she was on her knees, her head even with his. He released her hair so that he had both hands free.
"I want your cum. I want it in my throat. Please!" she growled.
He gripped her nipples, just her nipples, pinching firmly and pulling hard enough she had to lean back to prevent falling forward off the bed. He knew just how to balance the pressure so that really, she was the one causing the erotic pain in her tits as she pulled back to balance herself.
He was fucking marvelous.
"Come in my throat baby. Fill me up. Make me swallow it all." Molly purred. In response he pulled her tits so hard she gasped, she fell forward, her face pulled into his chest. She bit his nipple. He pushed her backward. She fell to her back. He gripped her ankles and pulled her ass just off the edge of the bed.
"OH YEAHH!" she growled.
He was still completely dressed, other than his pants being pulled off his hips. He even still had on his boots, the heavy motorcycle ones. She wouldn't let him have the motorcycle but she let him have the boots. Her arms were trapped deliciously in her robe. He pulled her panties aside and stuffed his cock inside of her. He gripped her thighs, forcing them back against her belly and fucked her hard.
She came, but he didn't. He would get close but then pause, holding his dick just incie her and then when he had suppressed his orgasm began again. She grunted, struggled to get her arms free, and he didn't like her squirming the way she liked him not liking it. He moved his hand from her thigh to her throat. He held firmly, his fingers locked to the back of her neck.
She came again. This time, he joined her, she felt it. His thrusts became pulsing as he held himself deep inside her. She felt the warmth and the sticky slipperiness of it. She smiled.
