Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)
Mom Does Anything:>Ep43

Sunlight glinted off the backs of Jenna's thighs, and I moved my hands from her ass after one final, over-the-top squeeze of her cheeks. I slid my hands down the backs of her tapered legs and around their sides, all the way to her feet, pausing to give her hamstrings and calve a good thumbing, creating comet lines and forcing soft moans from Jenna's clenched teeth. During this time, my cockhead throbbed, my shaft ached, and my balls spewed precum that I wasted outside my mother's mouth. My mother's, because Jenna had yet to give me head.

If I could have taken out my cock and made my mother suck it right there, with Jenna beneath me, I would have. I could picture my mother pouting, Do I have to? While I answered, Yes, you do unless you want me to fuck Jenna in front of you. Since this was a daydream, my girlfriend would join in and--

"Oh," Jenna squealed.

I had pushed my hands up the insides of her thighs, my thumbs pushing a wave of tension before it. I had slid so far between her thighs that my thumbs had pushed into her outer pussy lips, moved inward over her nylon panties, forcing some of the fabric into her soaking wet hole.

I pulled my hands away, and Jenna uttered a soft, "Aw," that made my balls spit up another healthy dose of precum.

My heartbeat rose beneath my chest, creating a hollow thumping in my ears. The world grew brighter, and I could see every line between Jenna's legs. The softness of the pussy crescent beneath her thong was tangible to my eyes, and my mouth watered as I imagined the taste of her vanilla pudding. Then, after widening my eyes, then shutting them, I imagined Jenna and my mother bent over my bed with their asses in the air, their legs spread, and their juicy pussies eager for my kiss.

I opened my eyes and whispered, "Turn over," to Jenna in a shaky voice. Did I just see my mother smile from the corners of my eyes? "Let me get your front."

"I have to tie my bra," Jenna said.

"No." I put my hands on her wrists. "Just hold it against your chest. So long as you're not flashing me, it's fine."

I didn't look at Mom, but Jenna did, and when my mother didn't move or voice any objections, Jenna said, "Okay." I heard the unspoken, Daddy in the air. Jenna turned over, holding her bra against her tits before lowering her hands to her sides. I oiled my palms and started with her arms, doing one at a time, holding her wrist with my off-hand while swimming my free hand up to her shoulder, then across to her neck. Her feet and shins came next. I picked up the bottle of oil and poured some more over her chest and breasts, and she smoothed her hands over her tits, plastering her bikini bra to her mounds, her nipples pushing up and through the fabric.

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A pulse of electric bliss raced through my balls.

Jenna pinched her nipple, the farthest from my mother, and her eyes slid to her left as a sly smile spread across her lips. I poured more oil onto her smooth belly and even more along her hips and thighs. With a devious expression, Jenna clenched her ass cheeks and pumped her pussy upward, begging me to cover more of her flesh in the slippery liquid. I smiled, nodding, and saturated her mound and cunny bulge, glazing her tasty clam until it shined. We had made a mess of her body.

I set the oil down and placed my hands on Jenna's sides. She smiled, biting her lower lips and turning her eyes to the left as if she could see my mother without turning her head. I pressed my fingers into her flesh, squeezing her while I rowed my thumbs over her stomach, the oil dripping from her like thick, melted honey.

With every breath she took, her stomach dipped inward, and I moved over her long stomach muscles and played with her belly button, dipping in and circling the shallow divot, making her smile and jump as her flesh glistened with oil. I moved toward her breasts, and Jenna grabbed the sides of her bra and pulled outward and down, tightening the material and making it thinner across her teenage tits.

"Anywhere there is no bikini," she mouthed, once again sliding her eyes to the left.

That was what my mother had said, so I spread my thumb and fingers wide and pushed to the bottoms of her young tits, cupping her mounds in that long crescent of flesh between my thumbs and forefingers. They pushed right under her heavy breasts, and I brushed my fingers over the exposed perkiness of her big tits. I caressed Jenna when I could, I held her tight when my cock strained forward, and I even used two hands per breast for a minute or more.

I ran one hand between them and one around their outsides, cupping them from two directions, testing their give and their impulse to bounce back to their full roundness after every titty-hug. Jenna's nipples seemed to swell with the attention. Even though her eyes begged me to abuse her puckered nubs with light flicks and twists of my fingers that would have sent bolts of pleasure through her body, I held back from touching them, keeping my promise to my mother. It was hard leaving Jenna's breasts, but I still had her thighs, hips, and the swell of her nearly exposed snatch to spread my hands over.

Mom still hadn't moved.

I dropped my palms to Jenna's thighs, above her knees, and moved upwards. My fingers led the way, my thumbs in the inward curve of her thighs, but not between her legs. I oiled her slick body to her hips and around her sides, getting my fingers into her butt cheeks and coming back around to feather the top of her mound where her panties were too small to cover. Every single one of her inhales trembled through her nostrils; her exhales matched those anxious sounds.