Loading...Life in rural upstate New York, circa 1972.
Justin Anderson was on the verge of cumming, and at that moment in time life could not be better for the teenager. He had just graduated from high school and was going off to college in a few weeks.
His girlfriend, Becky Biondi, was on her knees in front of him, sucking away on his cock. They had planned on fucking, but Justin had accidentally torn the condom while putting it on – his last one – so Becky was taking care of him as best she could.
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Chapter one: So close.
The sweat was pouring down my face as I stood in my Becky’s barn, pants down around my ankles, while Becky was busy sucking my cock. I had fucked up by tearing my last rubber, so this was my consolation prize, but that wasn’t a bad thing.
I dreaded having to go into the drugstore and buying more rubbers, and made a mental note to get more than a dozen when it did. The face that old man Thomas made when you went in there and asked him for them was intimidating, even for me, so the fewer times I had to do it the better.
Becky had turned into a decent cocksucker over the three months we had been dating, and she was doing a nice job on me now, jerking off the shaft of my cock while her mouth went up and down as much of it as she could handle.
I was only the second guy she had gone down on in her life; Jeff Porter being the first according to her, so the lying sack of shit had been telling the truth for once when he told the guys that it had happened.
Then again, he also said that he fucked Becky, and I knew that wasn’t true. I knew it myself because we screwed after our senior prom a month ago, and the evidence had been very obvious that I had gone where no man had gone before.
After making that breakthrough, we had been fucking like rabbits every chance we got. Once Becky had discovered the joys of sex she had become a new woman.
Still looked the same. Becky had small tits and a rather plain face, but we got along well and she had a big bush. That turned me on for some reason, girls with a lot of hair between their legs, and Becky had the most of any of the five girls I had the opportunity to enjoy in my 18 years.
I was on the verge of cumming, getting ready to warn Becky that her throat was about to get hosed down – she had become a swallower of late as well – and was feeling that familiar tingle in my groin, when I happened to look over to the side door of the barn just a few paces to my left.
Shit.
I tried to pull Becky’s mouth off of my cock, but that was easier said than done, because once she got going she became obsessed with it. It had taken her some time to get used to my cock, telling me that it was because mine was so much bigger than Jeff Porter’s, but she had gotten over that, which might have been why I practically had to throw her off of me.
Why I bothered at that point, I don’t know. The damage had already been done, because standing in the doorway were Becky’s parents, supposedly in town shopping, were staring at us in the exact ways I would have pictured them had I imagined such a horrible thing like us getting busted like this.
Becky’s mother Susan was ashen faced, looking at her daughter gobbling my dick not much differently than she would at a soap opera. Becky’s father Ted was the exact opposite. With him staring wide-eyed with a red face and the veins pulsating in his neck, if looks could kill I knew what my fate would have been.
Becky fell over to the side, not sure what was going on until she looked up. After that, she scrambled to her feet, trying to cover up her titties while crying. Her father was ranting and raving like a lunatic, her mother was staring poker-faced at us, and then there was me.
Standing there with my pants still down at my feet, and my erect cock bouncing around wildly in front of me, still on the verge of cumming. Becky’s father was on me in a flash, and while most of it was forgettable, one rant of his stood out in my mind.
“I knew there was something wrong with you, boy!” he spat as he looked and gestured at my cock. “Probably planning on putting that big fuck stick in my little baby, I’ll wager. What’s wrong with you boy? You trying to ruin her for life with that thing?”
I had several issues with what he said; for one thing his little baby was a month older than me, and for another, while I’m sure that to a father the thought of a guy with a cock the size of mine sticking in his skinny little daughter might have been horrifying, in reality after the first time Becky had always handled it like a real trouper.
What got my attention was the term “big fuck stick”. That was a new one for me, and I thought I had heard them all. When he said it, despite the situation I almost burst out laughing. I didn’t, which was a good thing in retrospect.
I did manage to yank up my pants and hustle out of the barn, Becky’s mother steeping out of the doorway so I could beat a hasty retreat while her father continued to rant and rave, threatening to call my parents and tell them what a pervert I was.
That part got me laughing for real, but I was halfway down the driveway by then so it was okay. Calling my parents? I’m 18 freaking years old. What are they going to say?
Mom probably would have been very contrite and apologetic, but Dad? Hell, he probably would have give me a cigar and slapped me on the back, congratulating me while reminding me once again that if he wasn’t married he would be “nailing some of them hippie chicks myself.”
The fact that Becky wasn’t a hippie any more than I was didn’t matter. My folks were clueless, just as clueless as Becky’s parents were, but all that mattered was that I feared I had lost my girlfriend. I could still hear her crying as I went down past their house on the way to my own, wailing about how her folks had ruined everything.
..
Chapter Two: Grounded.
That was the verdict rendered by the judge, in this case Becky’s father. Becky was forbidden to go out of the house except to go to her job at the local Agway. As for seeing me, no way. Not until further notice, Becky had tearfully told me when I dropped by the Agway to find out what went on afterward.
“He says that I’m grounded until you go off to college,” Becky cried. “What are we going to do?”
“I dunno,” I had told her. “Grounded is for kids, isn’t it?”
“He says that if I want to live under his roof I have to live under his rules,” Becky said. “I don’t make enough here to get a place of my own.”
“I dunno,” I repeated, although I did know, of course.
This made the inevitable breakup easier, for one thing. We had a good thing going, but it wasn’t love. I was heading halfway across the country to school and had no plans on being celibate until I made it back at Christmas time and the next summer, if I did return at all.
So we both shrugged, kissing before I headed home to sulk. With not enough time to find another girl for the rest of the summer, I expected to spend the last couple weeks getting ready for college and jerking off to the stash of magazine my old man had hidden badly in the attic.
I was a bit wrong about that.
…
Chapter Three: Phone call.
The next day I was rolling out of bed around 10, as had been my custom of late during my last lazy summer, when the phone rang. My mother called from the basement for me to get it, so I staggered over to answer it.
“Justin?”
“Speaking.”
“Hello. This is Susan. Becky’s mother?”
“Oh. Hello,” I mumbled, hardly recognizing the voice since she seldom spoke.
“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming over today,” she said. “We need to talk.”
“Gee,” I answered. “I don’t know. Seems like everything that needed to be said the other day, was said.”
“Nothing like that, Justin,” Mrs. Biondi said calmly. “There are some things that we should discuss. Calmly, like adults. Can you come over at noon?”
For some reason I agreed, but told myself that once it got a little heated, I was leaving. I knew the old man would be pissed, but her mother seemed to be a lot more in control of herself. Maybe this would just put a bow on the whole thing. I could then tell Becky that I had tried to talk to her folks and that they went off on me, so we were through. Simple.
It was only about a half mile down the hard scrabble road to the Biondi farm, so after I took a shower I walked down the road to Becky’s place, probably for the last time. A lot of memories flashed through my mind in that 15 minute walk.
For one thing, when I was going down there to see Becky the journey only took half that long. Something about the prospect of sex that makes a guy move faster, I guess.
I noticed that the truck wasn’t in the driveway, which struck me as odd at first. Maybe they ran into town or something, because I was five minutes early, so I went up on the porch and sat down, wiping my brow as the sun began to get serious like it did around here in late June.
From behind me, I heard the screen door creak, and when I turned around I saw Becky’s mother standing in the doorway, holding it open.
“Justin, why didn’t you knock?”
“Oh, hi Mrs. Biondi,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “I didn’t see the truck so I thought that you…”
“Ted’s in the city, selling at the Farmers Market,” Mrs. Biondi said. “Every Wednesday and Friday. Come in.”
I eased past her and entered the house, which was a lot like my own, looking like a snapshot of 60’s America. Since this was 1972, it typified how out of date we were, as well as a hint at our general lack of wealth in these parts.
Mrs. Biondi led me into the kitchen, and for the first time I noticed something different about her. Nothing dramatic, and it took me a second to realize that she was wearing lipstick and a little eye make-up. Since I had never seen her like this before it did strike me as odd, but since her husband wasn’t here to ream me out, anything else was fine.
“Getting hot out there,” Becky’s mother said. “Care for a drink?”
“Sure,” I said, expecting to get a glass of tap water.
Instead, I watched as Mrs. Biondi reached in the back of a corner cupboard and pulled out a bottle of liquor. Old Crow. It was about that moment when I realized that this was going to be a lot different a meeting than I had expected.
….
Chapter Four: Drinking in the kitchen.
Mrs. Biondi’s hands were shaking as she filled a couple of glasses half way with the whiskey. The glasses she used were old jelly glasses with the Flintstones characters on them, which made for a strange sight.
My only experience with alcohol was with Southern Comfort, and that didn’t have a happy ending. I was a beer man myself, preferring to pound down some Utica Club or Carling Black Label instead, or whatever else was really cheap and cold.
I took a sip of the Old Crow, and the taste made me shiver as much as the smell turned my stomach, but I tried to keep a straight face. Mrs. Biondi swallowed hers like it was kool-aid, which was another shocker. I never saw a drop of booze anywhere near this house, but the way Becky’s mother drank made it obvious that she was no stranger to the old demon alcohol.
“Not used to drinking it straight?” Becky’s mother asked. “Want some soda in it?”
“No,” I said. my voice squeaking. “This is fine.”
“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” she said. “In the barn?”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I told her. “I know how you guys must feel. We thought you would be gone longer.”
“You been sexing Becky? Been doing it?” she asked, and when I kept my mouth shut she continued. “Something different about Becky lately, so I’m figuring that you must have popped her cherry.”
“I… I like Becky a lot,” I mumbled.
“Nice of you not to say anything about it,” she said, downing the rest of her drink and filling both glasses again, even though mine had hardly been touched. “I know boys sometimes like to brag.”
“Of course, you aren’t a boy any more,” she added, making a slight move toward me as she leaned against the counter.
“I suspect that you and Becky are through now,” she continued. “I figured that once you went off to college that would be the end of it anyway.”
I shrugged, amazed at how perceptive she was, and then I saw the strangest thing appear on her face. A smile. I never really noticed her doing that before.
“Anyway, that thing where we surprised you two in the barn” Mrs. Biondi continued. “Ted…”
“I guess I know how you two must have felt. It was kind of embarrassing.”
“No reason to be all that embarrassed,” she said. “Just young folks doing what comes naturally. Ted – hell – I think that he went nuts on you because he was jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah,” Mrs. Biondi said with a laugh, holding her thumb and index finger apart. “Ted, he ain’t got much more than a little stub on him.”
“Oh.”
“Me?” Mrs. Biondi told me, her voice getting a bit raspy as she leaned closer to me. “I guess I was jealous too. Jealous of Becky.”
I grabbed the glass and took a fast swallow, my hand shaking so badly that the whiskey almost didn’t make it to my mouth. Mrs. Biondi was only a step away from me as we leaned against the sink, so close that I could feel the heat from her body.
“You see, I’ve never been with another man besides my husband,” she confided. “Been with him since I was 13. That’s 33 years and three kids ago. Should have messed around when I was young, like Becky’s doing now, but things were different back then, at least in my family.”
I was sweating bullets now, my heart racing as I figured out what was going on. Becky’s mother? I had never really thought about her before. She resembled Becky, but only in a fuller package, and the more I looked at her the better looking she got.
“So when I saw you two – hell – when I saw you, it kind of threw me for a loop. Guess it shows my ignorance more than anything else, but when I saw you standing there naked all I could think was that – heck, I never realized how big some men could be. Down there, I mean.”
If I didn’t know what she was referring to when she nodded in that direction, it got much clearer when her hands came to the front of my jeans and grabbed my cock, squeezing the bulge as she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. As for me, I was frozen in place, only able to groan as Becky’s Mom kept squeezing my cock.
“Been thinking about doing this ever since I saw it,” she sighed. “Dreaming about it. Ted keeps bringing it up – all the time saying how horrible it was that you wanted to put your big fuck stick in our baby. All the time I want to scream how bad I wanted to touch it – to kiss it – to have you put it in me.”
She had my cock in what felt like a vise, and I was getting harder and more excited by the second. Becky’s mother was looking at me – looking for a sign of what I was feeling – but I was still so stunned I didn’t know what to say or do.
“I know I’m an old lady,” she said, almost pleading. “I ain’t as pretty as Becky, but I ain’t that bad either. Do you want to see?”
I nodded, and when I did Mrs. Biondi jumped into my arms, grinding into me as her tongue forced its way into my mouth.
“What about Mr. Biondi?”
“Won’t be back until 5,” she gasped, and while I remembered that I wasn’t expecting Becky’s parents to show up early when they did, it was clear that Mrs. Biondi was sure about it because she always seemed afraid of him and would not risk incurring his wrath.
“Come,” she said, leading me out of the kitchen and down the hall.
I followed the mother of my girlfriend, looking for really the first time at the woman with the checkered house dress and the white socks, and trying to think about what she would look like when that all came off.
…..
Chapter Five: Ted and Susan’s room.
Becky had probably been conceived in this room 19 years ago, and her two older sisters years before. That strange thought crossed my mind as I went into the bedroom, Mrs. Biondi closing and locking the door behind us before going over to the side of the bed and throwing th covers back off it.
I was a few feet away, still petrified. Me, always playing the suave guy around 18 year old virgins, was now faced with a real woman for the first time, and I was overwhelmed.
“Mrs. Biondi?” I croaked.
“Susan,” she replied. “If you don’t want to see me naked in the light, I understand. I can close the curtains. Make it darker if you want.”
“No,” I said, because that wasn’t it.
Silently, Becky’s mother reached back and undid the zipper on the back of her dress. I noticed the dense swirl of hair under her arms as she raised them, and while I thought I had noticed in brief glimpses before that she didn’t shave, this was the first time I had actually seen her underarms like this.
A whole lot more hair than Becky had under her arms when she didn’t shave for a while, and to my surprise not only was I not put off by the sight, but the fact was that she looked incredibly sexy to me. I guess that Susan must have noticed me staring at her hairy armpits because she blushed a bit as she lowered her arms.
My eyes had a lot more to enjoy now, however, because Becky’s mother was reaching back and unhooking her bra. The harness practically flew off of her, and the biggest pair of tits I had even seen in person eased out of their confinement.
They were as big as footballs, and the crimson nipples that covered the ends were huge as well. Mrs. Biondi – I mean Susan – was looking at me for signs of approval, and I guess that me standing there with my mouth open practically drooling was as effective a way of communicating as any words I could have come up with.
Her panties were coming down slowly from her thick waist, and as they came down I got to witness the biggest and most dense jungle of rich brown hair imaginable. I had thought that her daughter had a lot of bush on her, but it was clear where she had inherited that from.
Now she was naked, and for a woman probably nearing 50 she looked amazing. Just a little on the plump side, but so voluptuous in the right places that it was hardly noticeable, and now she was coming toward me because she had tired of waiting for me to do what any fool would have done, which would have been to swarm all over her.
“You nervous, Justin?” Susan asked. “It’s okay. Me too.”
At around 5’6″, Mrs. Biondi was about a half foot shorter than me, so I got to look down as my shirt got unbuttoned and pulled off of me. Susan smiled as she played with the tiny cluster of hair that had recently appeared around my nipples before her hands went down to undo my belt.
My jeans dropped to the floor as the belt came free, and as I stepped out of them I saw that my fruit of the looms looked absurd, as if they were trying to contain a snake. Susan made a moaning sound, sinking to her knees as she yanked them down off of me, my cock flying around crazily as they did, almost hitting her in the face.
“OMIGOD!” I heard Mrs. Biondi gasp just before her hands clamped down on the shaft, and then it was my turn to moan that word as I watched Becky’s mother’s mouth slide way down on my cock, almost as if she was trying to stick the whole thing down her throat while her hands clawed at my buttocks.
After a couple of more journeys deep into Susan’s throat, I pulled her to her feet and onto her back on the bed, fearing that I was going to cum any second if she continued.
I climbed between her thighs, stunned at the dense jungle of hair that guarded her opening, and I started to lean my face into the steamy forest, wanting to get her nice and wet, but she would have none of that, pulling me up on top of her.
As I quickly discovered when my hand reached down and my fingers raked through the lush fur, there was no need for preparation, because she was dripping wet. Besides, she wanted me now.
Susan was tight. Almost as tight as her daughter had been, and the more cock that I pushed into her and the deeper I went, the tighter it got, until it was like I was pushing my dick into a keyhole. Susan was clawing at my arms and shoulders as I tore into her tender opening and entered uncharted territory.
By the time I sank all eight or so inches all the way into Mrs. Biondi, she was going nuts beneath me. Scratching and clawing at not only me but the pillows and bedding as well. Squirming like a woman possessed until she was almost off the bed on the other side, she came in less than a minute.
Our houses in this area were widely spread apart, with only 2 others in the half mile between Becky’s and ours, and that was a good thing, because when her mother came, she let loose with the most feral screams and howls I had ever heard, with profanities screeched in between.
I had to look away as she came, the sight of this American Gothic character suddenly acting like she was going insane was too erotic for me to take, but it was no use, my cock spurting my seed deep into her womb while the force of her orgasm clamped down around my cock.
“I’m sorry,” I said, starting to apologize, but Susan shook her head, kissing me and shrugging me off of her and onto my back.
Kneeling between my legs, Becky’s mother tossed her hair back over her shoulders and bowed her head, those big jugs of hers hanging down, and started sucking my cock which was covered with both of our fluids.
I soon found out that if I had a woman sucking my cock as if there was no tomorrow, in 1972 it would take me 9 minutes to get it up again, according to the alarm clock on the dresser. During those 9 minutes, Susan deep-throated my limp dick like she wanted to swallow it whole. She sucked on my nuts the same way, and as I began to get hard, she turned it up to another level until I was fully erect.
When that happened, Susan got up and straddled my cock, holding it in her fist as she lowered herself down on it, making my cock disappear into that dense bush while impaling herself on me completely.
I cupped her jiggling breasts, cupping them as best in could in my overwhelmed hands. They were soft and natural, and the nipples were thick pegs that burrowed into my palms as she rode my cock.
Becky’s mother was swaying around on me like she was riding a bull, her eyes glazed over and her hips moving non-stop. Her humping of me was relentless, and soon the sweat was flying off of her and onto me like a monsoon.
Suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she swayed backwards. I grabbed at her but she threw my hands away, instead beginning a crazy kind of dance while her pussy slammed around my cock hard and she screamed my name.
“No more,” Becky’s mother said after she fell off to the side and resisted my attempt to mount her.
Instead, Susan knelt beside me and started going down on, her mouth sliding down farther on my cock with each bob of her head, until she had almost all of me in her mouth.
The sight of this middle-aged woman acting like a sword swallower was too much and I cried out to her that I was going to come. Her mouth flew up off of my cock and she pulled at me savagely, her eyes glazed as the first spurt of cum flew up a couple of feet in the air.
Then, just as quickly, Mrs. Biondi’s mouth dove back down in time to catch the rest of my orgasm, swallowing my cum like it was the sweetest nectar she had ever tasted. I finally had to practically pull her off of my limp dick when she continued to try and suck the life out of me.
“Better get going,” I said after we rested for a while, and as I got my clothes on Becky’s mother rolled onto her side to face me.
“Friday,” she said. “Same time.”
……
Chapter Six: Ted goes and I come.
For the remainder of the summer I was at Becky’s house every Wednesday and Friday. Everytime her Dad would leave, I would race in from the field behind their house and spend the next four hours getting fucked and sucked like there was no tomorrow.
Mrs. Biondi was so demanding and so horny that I ended up eating her out quite a bit too, just to keep my cock from falling off, and I found that I liked eating pussy a whole lot, especially a really hairy one like Susan Biondi’s.
I must have been doing it pretty well, because the second week Mrs. Biondi told me to meet her out behind her barn on Saturday afternoon, while her husband was busy watching the baseball game of the week on TV.
The sound of Curt Gowdy voice and Mr. Biondi’s cheering and jeering was audible to us behind the barn, where we would fuck like bunnies. Then she told me to come back on Sunday after they got home from church for a quickie.
The last Sunday she took me down the hill behind their place, still wearing her Sunday go-to-church dress, and explained to me that she had her period.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, but Mrs. Biondi just turned around, dropped her panties and bent over spreading her ass cheeks wide for me.
“Ted does it to me back there this time of the month,” she explained. “Course I reckon this will hurt more with you though. That’s okay.”
She was a little bit higher on the hill than I was, and when I looked down I saw that her ass crack was glistening, the hair that coated the crevice shimmering in the sunlight. My hand went dowen and felt the greasy substance that coated the area.
“You like sticking that fuck stick of yours into ass too, don’t you? Ever do Becky’s?” she asked.
I was speechless.
“Got it ready for you first,” Mrs. Biondi said. “Didn’t think I was going to take you dry, did you?”
I didn’t think anything. This was all new to me, but I was willing to try anything once. It took me a long time to squeeze the head of my cock into that puckered ring of hers, but she wanted it bad, practically impaling herself on me by shoving her ass back when I was proving to be too timid for her.
Her ass was beyond tight, but eventually she loosened up a bit, and by the end I was slamming into her with all my might while Mrs. Biondi stayed bent over and braced herslf without complaint, merely grunting with each thrust until I filled her rectum with my cum.
“Ooh!” Susan said as she straightened up and tried to get herself together. “That burns. Cock of yours damn near split me in two. How do I look?”
“Okay,” I said, resisting the urge to tell her that she looked like she just got fucked in the ass.
“Hope Ted don’t want it tonight,” she said before heading up the hill and waving goodbye to me.
That was the last time we did it that summer, although I confess to making periodic visits to her place when I would return from college, the last time after I had graduated four years later.
Susan had gotten a little heavier each year, with her tits the primary beneficiary of the extra weight. There was always something about her that I found attractive. Maybe it was the forbidden fruit angle, or those big jugs of hers. Heck, maybe it was the hair under her arms that did it for me too. Most of the girls had that going as well by then, so it wasn’t exactly a rarity.
As for what Susan Biondi got out of it, I don’t know. Maybe it was just good sex. It was a rather loveless relationship we had, but I suspected that her marriage was as well.
All I know that she always told me that I made her feel way better than she ever had before, and I must have liked her a bit myself, since she didn’t ever have to coerce me to come back and visit her.