Unknown

Mom_s hot lips

CHAPTER ONE

Vera Hanson padded from the steamy bathroom after her shower and blotted silvery drops from her pert tits with a big green towel. She paused in front of the mirror over her dresser and tilted her head reflectively, letting her eyes roam up and down her taut-fleshed image.

She saw the well-formed boobs, the protruding nipples, the slimness of her supple waist. She ran her eyes over the flare of her hips and the saucy pout of her round, tight-skinned, dew-spangled ass. Not bad, she thought, smiling at her image. For thirty-eight and one kid, it's damn good, Vera.

She shook her head and brought fullness to her cropped blonde hair and saw another two years come off when she pulled her facial muscles just right and smoothed the hints of beginning wrinkles. It ran in the family. She could easily pass for her son's older sister, instead of Paul Hanson's young wife.

The thought made little shivers go through her body. She glanced down and watched her pussylips puff up and swell apart slightly and reveal the pink tissues beneath the dark-blonde fuzz.

Even her cunt was tight and young. It hadn't had much use during the past year. She sometimes felt as if she were a virgin again, a girl no older than her son, Roger.

Vera felt a sexual throb deep in her belly. She reached between her thighs and cupped the shower-damp moistness at her crotch. An illicit thrill swept through her when the tip of her finger rolled the sensitive ball of her clit and made it sprout with alarming suddenness.

She glanced into the mirror again and saw the tiny spike at the top of her gash peep out pinkly and beg for more. She saw the sheen of slippery juice that flooded to the front of her pussy and made her cuntlips become bloated and red.

She closed her eyes and moaned deeply. She didn't want to do this. She wanted Paul to come home and, do it to her-to fuck her until she screamed with bliss, the way he used to flick her before this past year had sapped something from him and left him remote.

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was eleven-thirty already. He should have been back from Loon Key for dinner.

Worry nagged at her. Then a muddle of resentment and anger. It was that damn motel. The new one he was building that had taken him from her like a tight-skirted tramp.