Mom." He was tripping over his words, fumbling with his thoughts like a nervous idiot. Memories of the previous night, of his mother's luscious lips wrapped around his cock, came flooding back. He was anxious, and he was awkward and he was excited, and he had absolutely no idea what to say. Jessica found her son's reaction quite adorable. She also noticed his pants beginning to tent. She pointed at his emerging erection and smiled. "Nice of him to finally wake up too." Without saying a word, the buxom mother sashayed across the room and locked the door her husband had just used. From there, she moved gracefully to the bay window and began lowering the blinds. Jason's eyes were trained on the little cleavage her long robe was showing. He was a deer in the headlights. He couldn't look away. He also didn't want to. "Mom? Wh...why did dad tell me to feel better?" Jessica moved to another window and closed another set of blinds. "Because I told him you were sick." "I don't...I mean, I'm. She would close her eyes for a few seconds and then reopen them Carlos was not just hard; his cock was tumescent and standing straight up toward the track floodlights above him. He had continued to stroke his 7” meat since she pants-ed him earlier and he was starting to get dry from non-stop pounding. The perfect head at the top of the shaft was beet red. He was completely shaved and his cock seemed in perfect proportion to the rest of his body. “Karen, you got any lube? My dick is getting sore,” he asked turning towards her batting his long eyelashes. “I got some olive oil up there,” she said nodding toward the shelf. “Olive oil?” He exclaimed in derisive disbelief. “Yeah, fucking olive oil. I’m Italian, you asshole. You can do more than cook with it, you know.” She shook her head and said: “Where have you been?” “I have been to bathhouses, orgies, and gotten fucked over the hood of a car and nobody has ever used olive oil.” Karen shook her head again and then turned back to.
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