Chapter 8
It was really a laugh, thought Paul, as he got out of his clothes. He'd only half-kidded himself about screwing this woman. The most he thought would happen was that she would be infatuated with him and flattered by his flirtatious attention. But Susan Lundman took the cake, the whole cake. He'd never before met such an aggressive female. There had been two women he'd boffed, but he'd only done that in high school, to prove his masculinity on weekend dates with the other guys and their girls. He didn't like women, much, but it was not difficult for him once he got started. And right this minute, Susan Lundman had him going.
There was something about her. Maybe it was her urgent sexual need, maybe it was her complete fascination with the male body, maybe it was because every thing she did, said, felt, smacked of sex. It could also be because she was an expert at lovemaking. Her very fingertips oozed sex. It was as though sex was her nourishment. She made him feel like a god ... the way she seemed to grope for his love. She was all over him in the bed. Her hands reached out, feeling his arms, his chest, his hips, his buttocks. She moaned huskily, staring in fascination as his cock sprang forward like a sabre.
"You're beautiful," she whispered. "I hoped you'd be hung, but I never expected-" She reached for him, cupping the palm of her hand under his heavy balls, tracing the outline of his pompous, purple-veined prick with her other hand. "Cripes," she whispered, "you're enormous." Her eyes burned into his, and Paul saw the crooked smile flicker across her face. "I'm burning for you baby, really burning." She brought his hands to her breasts, leaned forward and parted her lips against his. "Kiss me," she pleaded.
He sent his tongue between her lips, kneading her breasts at the same time. Her mouth opened wantonly as she eagerly accepted his tongue.
"Cripes," she whispered, pulling back. "You sure can kiss." She let her eyes wander over his nakedness. "Damn, but you're built. Nice-strong-hard-sinewy body. I like your cheekbones, so prominent; and you've got a nice square chin and-hey, I just noticed the dimple in it."
"Yeah, I'm a regular Kirk Douglas," he grinned.
"That's not bad, baby, not bad at all."
He looked at her breasts; swollen, huge, big round red tips, straining out to him. He faltered, wondering if he were able to play the male role. Could he satisfy her? If not, she'd turn into a raging bitch. This kind of woman would. He'd come on strong with the other women, but he had failed them once they were in bed. It didn't matter then; he and the girls were so young. As for men, he found them more agreeable to his nature; if it didn't happen, there was always a next time. But with Susan Lundman it was either now or never! Besides, he wanted to try with this redhead-try to see if he were a man. He was a little jealous of Rick who was able to switch from female to male at the drop of a hat. It might not be so bad after all. One thing Susan had was tits. He was attracted to them. He laughed inwardly. It could be that he was jealous of those great, big, beautiful tits.
She fluffed a pillow, then settled back against it, striking a pose that was at once both feminine and wanton. He studied the glossy body; the generous tits, the narrow waist, the rich hips, the long legs; stared at the rigid nipples, the dome-like stomach, and frankly had to admit that she was really something for her age.
She took hold of his hands and impatiently brought them back to her breasts. His hands glided over the hard, rubbery protuberances. He felt a little giddy; they did feel marvelous, and they were breathtakingly beautiful breasts. Her lips were swollen, full and sensual. For a fleeting second her face seemed to turn into Rick. The resemblance was fantastic. Her bright eyes hooked to his cock. Even the way she did that reminded him of Rick. She slid her hand down her belly with a slow, languorous movement and rubbed her pubic region. How many times had he seen Rick do that? Paul felt his whole body tremble and go limp with sudden longing for her. Having Rick's beautiful mother, naked and begging for his big cock, stirred him with lust.
She pulled him to her and kissed him hotly, almost engulfing his mouth with hers. "Fuck me!" she begged.
He heard another voice, just as urgent, the male voice of Rick-"Fuck me!" Her lips were torrid, yet strangely soft and exciting, as was the feel of her hips and thighs pressing into him. His tongue danced in her mouth as he drew her to him in a tight embrace.
She captured his surging phallus, squeezing it, begging him to use it. "Please, oh, please," came her urgent whisper. Her body began to wiggle against his as she slid her arms around him.
He could feel her great round warm breasts mashed against his ribs, felt the hard core of her big nipples stab into him. He ran a hand across her smooth thighs. Immediately she clamped her legs tightly around his hand and shivered with uncontrollable passion.
When she smiled, her face took on a strange bright beauty. "Just being kissed by you, touched by you, thrills me," she husked.
Her enthusiasm for him engulfed him like a sudden warm summer wind. A hot feeling spread through his body. He began playing with the soft, white flesh of her tits. Then he pulled himself up and rested his throbbing erection between her mounds. He clamped her breasts with both hands against his swollen prick then moved his slim hips back and forth, fucking the velvety tits. Her body moved under him in a slow motion, enough to let him know she was enjoying it. Little beads of moisture came from his cocktip and trailed down the white skin under her heavy globes. His balls bounced against her soft tits, sent shivers through him. She guided his hand between her legs. His fingers ran through the soft, silky, moist hair. They reached further to the opening. He inserted his finger past the edge of her now puffy lips. Immediately she spread her legs, opening her crotch even more to admit him. His fingers teased her erect clitoris. He shoved his finger into the first knuckle, and he felt her shudder.
She had a tight one, he thought, real tight for a woman who obviously used it as much as she did. The inner folds of her snatch covered his finger and seemed to pull, wanting to suck his finger deep inside her. He shoved in further, this time to the second joint. Hearing her sigh in pleasure, he sank his finger to the hilt and began finger-fucking her unmercifully, ramming in, pulling out-in-out-in-out.
Her body squirmed as she begged, "Paul, please, oh, God, do it tome."
He withdrew his finger and got to his knees. He trailed his big cock along her belly down to her thigh. She was breathing hard and heavy now, staring, mesmerized by his wet, swollen cock. Staring the way Rick did, Paul thought.
Almost the same expression of anticipation. He took hold of her ankles and pushed back her legs, folding her knees back against her breasts. He wedged his frame around, arranged her ankles on top of his shoulders, and stared at her gaping cunt. It wasn't a cock, but right now he wanted very much to stick his prick into that warm slit that was so eagerly opening wider, winking, and surging toward him. He took hold of his rod and rubbed the tip of his cock around the outer ridges of her box. Teasingly he rubbed it up and down and sideways.
"Don't tease," she moaned. "Please, don't tease me like this."
Paul touched his moist penis to the soft curls that surrounded her pink-lipped cunt. Slowly he moved closer and ran himself almost into her, but not quite. Again he made as if he would sink into her, hesitated, and pulled back. Finally, after five of these teasing thrusts, he moved his hips in a long round circle and then thrust forward with a mighty lunge. He could feel his cock sink all the way into her. Another shove, and he heard her scream, "Oh, Chriiiiiiiist! Oh, shit. Good, it's good, good." He reached under her, cupped the pliant globes of her ass, and raised her higher. He held her that way for a moment, then thrust into her again.
"You know," she sighed, "Oh, God, how you know!"
He could feel her cunt contract, grabbing greedily his sliding, slippery hardness. He stopped moving, held his hips still, and let her hugging pussy pull him deeper.
"Kiss me," she pleaded.
He leaned down and took her lips.
When she pulled back, she stared into his eyes, the flicker of a smile on her lips. "Am I better than my son?"
He didn't know why the question thrilled him, but it did. It made him feel like a superman, like the greatest of all lovers. He felt bathed in glorious light. He was a lover-a son lover-a mother lover. The greatest. Unique. A lover! He grinned down at her. "We haven't finished yet, too early to tell," he whispered, sinking his cock deep into the clinging wealth of her vagina.
"Uhhh," she moaned. "I'll tell you something, lover. Now I know why Rick left home and is living in Laguna."
He smiled, then pushed her knees hard into her tits as he got himself into a more comfortable position. All thoughts vanished from his mind as he thrust his hips forward into her demanding body. The warm, wet cunt his cock was fucking, was his reason for being at the moment-nothing else mattered save fucking her hot cunt. Nothing! He smiled when he heard her muffled grunts of tantalizing pleasure. When she began a slow roll beneath the hard dick that impaled her, he clamped his teeth tightly. Her hungry snatch took all of him to the very hilt. An electric tingling sensation shot through him, racing from his balls to the tip of his prick. He felt her grind her snatch against him, felt the wild movements of her thighs, hips, and the hard brown tips of her breasts. She felt like burning hot flames to his skin and lips. Now her cunt muscles began to dilate and contract-dilate-contract-devouring his massive meat, nibbling eagerly on his swollen prickhead. The sweat was rolling down his back as he jerked his hips forward, wanting even his balls to fill that glorious hot hole. Now she started to work her body and cunt muscles relentlessly, the soft warm ridges of her pink box screwing onto his whang. He felt close-damn close. He withdrew his cock to the edge of her puffy lips. "Baby," he breathed, "I'm near ready."
"Don't stop now," she cried. "Shove it into me. I want all of you-all. I want you to flood me inside. Oh, baby, baby!"
Paul steadied himself on his knees, took a deep breath, and rammed his dick in as hard as he could. He started a quick fucking motion. He could feel the hot flowing juices in her pulsating cunt, could hear the loud, wet, slushy, sucking noises from their union. Her hips were wild, driving, thrusting, demanding, bucking! He thought he'd go mad at the crazy vibrating body of the woman. Never had he experienced anything quite like this before. He pushed her knees back almost to her ears, then pulled himself to the outer edge and began ramming his penis with direct accuracy into the hot hole.
"Jeeeeesus!" she cried.
He dropped his body heavily on hers, feeling her great tits mash under his hairy chest, her hard nipples stabbing into his skin. Holding her head between his hands, he kissed her as his bloated prick ground hard into her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and sank it deep down into her throat. Feeling the aching, bubbling, swelling, in his balls as they flapped heavily, wildly against her ass cheeks, Paul knew that the moment was now. He sucked in his breath and felt his cock erupt, spilling his hot come into her cunt like molten lead.
"Oh, I'm going to-" Susan cried as her body vibrated uncontrollably with an explosion of her own. She locked him tightly to herself as simultaneous release carried them through space and slowly brought them back to earth.
The demands of their bodies satiated, they both collapsed on the bed. Moments later, Paul felt the strength return to his body and carefully pulled his now limp penis from her.
"You're something, do you know that?" Susan muttered. "I haven't been fucked like that since I was a young girl."
"You're not so bad yourself," Paul grinned.
"You liked it?"
"Yes. Very much."
"Then you'll come back for more?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"I hope you will." She threw back her head and laughed. "You know what? You're really a mother-fucker."
Paul laughed back, then glanced at his watch. "It's getting late."
"Got to be back in Laguna-and Rick, huh?"
He got off the bed and started to put on his shorts. "Let me have another look," she whispered huskily. "Ah, come on." He almost blushed. "Just a peek."
He lowered his shorts and saw her stare at his long, hanging, soft cock.
"It's beautiful, hard or soft," she whispered, staring with glazed eyes. Then she brought her eyes up to meet his. "Listen, I want to give you the Louis the Fifteenth chair. A gift from me to you."
He stared at her in disbelief. "No," he frowned. "I couldn't accept it. It's far too precious and expensive."
"Exactly why I want you to have it. That bit of 18th-century antique is signed, I want you to know. See, that's what I do when I like someone."
The chair was worth a fortune. If he accepted it, then sold it, he could live on the money for a time-it would pay a whole year's rent. Taking a second look, Paul slowly began to realize Susan Lundman could be the very person he'd been looking for. Up till now he'd been searching unsuccessfully for a rich old man. It never dawned on him to seek out a woman. Suddenly he was intrigued with the possibilities of the situation he'd stumbled onto. Susan Lundman could help him. The woman was rich, important. She was in a position to bring him to the attention of the right people in the art world. She could quietly pull strings for him. The more he thought of it, the more he liked the idea. He'd been fiercely passionate with the woman-even felt a kind of attraction for her. As for Susan, she'd flipped for him, it was obvious. To be wanted and sought after was important to this forty-year-old woman. She needed affection. It would not be difficult to string her along.
There was only one drawback. Rick! He did love the boy. Should Rick find out that Paul was having an affair with his mother, all hell would break loose. It was a strange situation to be in. In love with a young man, and having an affair with the young man's mother. But, strange or not, there was so very much to gain if he handled himself well and wasn't obviously greedy. He would have to make it appear as if it were Susan Lundman's idea. Okay, he'd play it by ear. He'd keep his mouth shut, hide his affair from Rick, and see Susan Lundman as often as she wished.
He lit a cigarette and sat down on the edge of the bed in his shorts, facing Susan. "I can't accept the chair," he said, taking her hand.
"Why not?" She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly. "I want to do something for you."
"It's not necessary."
"I know," she said, hooking onto a new idea. "The next time you come to Los Angeles, why don't you bring a few of your paintings. I'll buy one."
"All right," he grinned, "I'll give you a discount."
"I'll have a Paul Harris original. I'll show it to all of my friends. They'll be envious and anxious for one just like it."
He leaned down, kissed her lips, and at the same time ran his fingers through the thick abundance of her pubic curls. Exactly, he thought. It's going to be easy. Resolved, he felt her hand slip under his shorts; suddenly, making it back to Laguna and Rick wasn't important anymore.