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Patty listened to the familiar piccolo warble of birdsong emanating from the polarized cloudless gray sky as she felt the grass between her toes, tickling the arches of her middle-aged feet.
From the corner of her eye she detected a blurwarped motion. A dog trotted out in front of her, its overgrown chestnut shag appearing dirty and matted. The dog raised its low-slung head, peering directly into Patty's eyes. In that brief instant Patty knew but did not know what the dog was trying to impart. She desperately needed to get away.
Urgency overtaking her, Patty plodded over the green deep pile of her back yard and into the unusually long hallway at the top of the stairs. Its blackness distorted timespace, the only sliver of light coming from under the door that she knew to be her bedroom. The gummy, swaying ropebridge floor made it increasingly difficult for her to make any progress. She could hear the muffled sound of lusty goat bleats coming from behind the closed door, and she felt dread for the first time.
The vacuumblackness of the hallway dissolved into the surroundings of her salmon glowing twilight-bathed bedroom. Patty stood just inside the open door watching herself on the bed, her head buried between her son's thighs. Patty on the bed raised herself on her elbows, positioning herself on her right side and cocked her head to fling her hair away from her face and her reflective Cheshire cat grin.
"I licked his balls", Patty on the bed cooed as she slowly caressed her large porcelain smile with the tip of her tongue. "Mmmmmmmm, watch me lick his balls and eat his ass out. I'm gonna eat him out."
Patty watched and, even though she stood by the door, she was able to taste the flavor of her son's balls. She felt the yielding wrinkliness of his soft sack fill her mouth.
Now, she was looking up the length of Mike's body, into his pleading eyes. She buried her face, tongue first into his ass. The tip of her tongue darted over his puckered entryway, her cheeks pressed against the fullness of his flesh. Mike moaned.
As she raised her head, her nostrils saturated with Mike's essence, she heard the Victrola needle drop onto an old scratchy seventy-eight. She instantly recognized the warpedhollow warble of Ellington's Mood Indigo, and her mother sitting in the corner, knitting. "So long as it doesn't get weird, Patricia", she volunteered while never taking her eyes off of her stitch.
Patty hungrily enveloped the full length of Mike's hard cock in her mouth, the tingliness of his velvety supplehard shaft sliding between her lips made her wetter than she'd ever been. He began to buck. Her nose mashed against the flesh of his stomach. Her top lip pressed against his body, her bottom lip against his soft balls. She kept pace with him, sucking him. Mike's cock began to grow. It began to expand. Patty struggled to open her mouth wider and wider, until the wedgelike pressure was so severe, she briefly wondered if she'd be split apart.
Mike's cock twitched and jerked wildly in Patty's mouth.
"You're going to give him an orgasm if you continue to do THAT to him, Patricia", Patty's mother stated unapprovingly over the increasing volume of Mood Indigo.
Patty felt a strong ripple race through the underside of Mike's shaft. Mike loudly groaned from deep beyond his diaphragm as molten semen sprayed and splashed down her throat. His body writhed, and his cock pulserippled, and the semen wouldn't stop. Mike's cock was a searing seltzer bottle inside Patty's mouth, and she couldn't swallow it all regardless of how hard she tried to keep up.
Mike's cum began to fill her lungs. She choked. She was
