Family Therapist - Chapter 9 (Fm, some Inc) 
WARNING: Adults only. This material is not suitable for minors.

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Chapter 9


She was nervous. Understatement. She was into her third glass of
wine in two hours, enough to more than take the edge off. But it
didn't help. Martha tried to calm her, reassure her, provide her
a solid foundation to lean on. "You have wanted this for years,"
and, "This is just the next step in your therapy," and, "He is
trustworthy. You let me walk you through this." All with smiles,
with firmness.

It wasn't helping.

She did want this. She had masturbated so many times: late at
night under the covers, in the ladies room at work, even in her
office. She wanted it. Bad. Ever since he... and her own son...
had, well... come of age... had developed into more than just
little boys. She had watched them. Had noticed their... growth.
How many times had she sat and secretly stared... at his crotch.
Imagining... his young, hard, manhood... covered by nothing more
than a swimsuit... or jeans... or shorts. It was so wrong. So
wrong.

And now it was about to happen. "We have all night," Martha had
whispered, "You can explore him... up close..." she teased
quietly, "taste him..." she trailed off. Angela was trembling
badly. She wanted this. She could see him... it... she WAS going
to do this.

She was going to faint. No! She wanted this. She had prepared
herself mentally for this for a long time. But, she was so
nervous. Her. Angela. A senior executive where she worked. Oh my
god. She was going too...

Eddie and his dad were out of town for the night - Eddie was
almost an Eagle Scout - they were at a retreat, camping with
other candidates, doing whatever tasks were part of it all. She
knew the preparation it took, but his dad had been the one
involved in most of it with him. Johnny had been in Scouts with
Eddie when they were younger, but he had not been quite as into
it as Eddie was, dropping out several years ago.

Her best friend Linda... Johnny's mother... was next door. Right
now. Angela took another sip. Her arm shaking. Linda believed
Johnny was going to a friend's for the night. A knot formed in
her stomach as she looked around again, checking to make sure the
blinds were all down, lights dim or off - for the third time.

But Johnny was NOT going to a friend's house. No. He was on his
bicycle right now, in the dark, circling around a few
neighborhood streets or something...

Coming to see... her. Sneaking his way to see his own mother's
best friend... to... oh my god! She was right next door... how
many years had they raised their sons together... taken family
vacations together... and now... she was going to do the
unthinkable. The tingle between her legs throbbed at the
thought... she was going to secretly take his young hard, teenage
cock inside of her... spread her mature, married legs for him...
she WAS going to do this... tonight! All these years of
fantasizing. Never believing it would actually happen... it was
so wrong. So, so wrong. She trembled. She almost called it off.
Again.

So wrong... she wanted to reach between her legs... to rub that
tingling... taboo, silent urge. Linda was right next door! What
if my husband comes home... if Eddie found his best friend...
with his cock buried in his mother's vagina... oh my god... in MY
vagina! he was coming here to... her finger slipped between her
legs... light pressure... her jet-black dress slacks... she could
picture his bulge... what if Linda came over unexpectedly! She
had purposely laid low, something about not feeling the
greatest... kept the lights dim... but...

She almost didn't hear the light knock on the back door. It was
Martha rising to let him in that got her attention... her heart
pounding instantly... a devilish smile on her therapist's face...
"I am with you all the way," she whispered, a light touch on her
shoulder as she passed, heading toward the sun room off the back
of the house... to let a teenager in, to... to... "ALL the way,"
Martha smiled sweetly, her voice trailing off as she left the
room. That fateful session a few years ago... finally revealing
her desires... part of her treatment... never believing where it
would lead... oh my god.

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The next few minutes were a blur. Nervous small talk. She had
wanted this for so long, and now... she couldn't even make eye
contact with him. But she could make eye contact... with his
shorts. She felt foolish, standing there. She should be more in
control... but... she was entranced. Staring at... "Well, it's
time, right?" Martha said sweetly to them both finally. Angela
tensed.

Awkward moments. The dim lighting, the hardwood floors, the
granite counter tops, the warm wood of the kitchen cabinets, the
stainless appliances... almost an out-of-body experience, seeing
her own kitchen as if for the first time. Her thoughts capturing
the moment like a video recording. Surreal.

The video cameras! Her knees trembled again. Oh my god.

Johnny was quiet. Shy. Mrs. Morgan looked... beautiful. She was
wearing a loose fitting, sleeveless, silky cream-colored blouse
that buttoned down the front, tailored at the bottom, untucked.
Some sort of gold necklace that fell into her... cleavage. Oh
man. Dark black dress pants, dress shoes. Her clothes looked
brand new. He felt... out of place... wearing his dumb rock band
t-shirt and gym shorts, sneakers. At least they were clean...

Her breasts... how many times had he secretly stared at them...
hidden right there under that loose-fitting blouse, curves
accentuated. Again he couldn't help comparing her to Mrs. Scott.
Mrs. Morgan's breasts were larger. Not huge, but full. His eyes
took her in. She was a tiny, tiny bit overweight... a little bit
pudgy... no, that was the wrong word... just a little bit of
extra weight... covered by the high-waisted dress slacks and
casually untucked blouse, her hips a little wider, the V of her
mature female mound accentuated by the cut of her slacks... oh
man. His thin cotton gym shorts didn't hide his state very well.
He shifted. Nervous.

Angela felt his stare. She knew that time was a devil. That her
support bras worked wonders, but that she still looked... OK...
for her age. She was 45 after all. Time grabs at us all. "Mrs.
Morgan," Martha whispered, touching her shoulder, guiding her,
"take your son's best friend upstairs," she paused, waiting for a
reaction.

Angela didn't move. Martha smiled gently, urging her softly.
"Let's go upstairs," she whispered, "to your husband's bedroom."
Angela's thoughts in slow motion as she started to move, leading
the way, through the short center hallway, hardwood floors
creaking a little as they walked, accusing her. Turning to the
stairs, one step at a time, the hardwood creaking as they went.
"This is wrong," the stairs reminded her with each step.

She felt his eyes on her as he followed her up - "Mrs. Morgan has
a nice rear end for a middle-aged mother, doesn't she?" she heard
Martha whisper playfully to him... another step..."have you ever
thought about her... about her ass... when you masturbate?" she
paused, not expecting an answer... "When you fantasize about
fucking Mrs. Morgan?" another whisper... another step... another
creak... she was shaking.

She couldn't help the sway of her ass as she moved up the
stairs... her heart racing at the words behind her. He watched
her... every step. The seam in her pants defining her, separating
her. "No?" Martha played, "You've never imagined what it would
feel like to slip your young, hard, teenage cock... oily...
slippery... deep into Mrs. Morgan's tight asshole?" she said
seductively to him, but teasing her.

Angela turned her head suddenly at the words. Tense. No! Dagger
eyes at Martha. "Imagined feeling her tight hole stretch around
your teen shaft?" Martha continued, eyes locked onto Angela's as
she hesitated on the stairs, "squeezing your young hard cock,
feeling it spasm - unable to control itself?" she whispered.
"Maybe tonight... before her husband gets home..." she whispered
to Johnny, "who knows..." she giggled. Another step... another
creak... another accusation. There was no way... no. Nope.

Oh my god.

They reached the top of the stairs, Martha slipping past them
both as Angela hesitated, leading them down the dimly lit
hallway... Eddie's open bedroom door on the left as they went
past. And then they were there, Johnny's eyes wide as he entered
the master bedroom at the end of the hallway.

It wasn't a huge room: queen-size bed, simple, nice dressers.
Hardwood upstairs also, but a nice plush rug covering most of the
bedroom floor. He knew this room. He knew this house. He and
Eddie had grown up... inseperable.

Martha smiled gently as they both entered past her. The enormity
of this hitting Angela - she hesitated. This was her bedroom. Her
husband's bedroom. Their bedroom. Their most private room. "Sit,
Angela. You want this!" Martha whispered, smiling, caring,
guiding her to the low vanity stool. Angela sank onto it, hands
on her lap, unsure of anything.

Her heart pounded. She was going to do this. This was going to
happen. Her nipples were aroused. If Johnny looked, it would be
obvious, even through the loose-fitting blouse. She could feel
the slickness between her legs starting. Johnny's cock was right
here... with her... for real. He was going to fuck her. Oh my
god. Her clit throbbed. She knew it was going to happen.

The secret was so, so erotic. So wrong. She could smell her
husband in the room... but it wasn't her husband who was standing
there. This teen boy who had grown up with her own son - had been
here so much she had almost raised him herself - he was here. His
teen cock was here. She peeked. His bulge was obvious. So close
to her... just unzip him... she was wet... she NEVER got wet, not
anymore... she was wet... just reach out...

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed Martha lead him to her
dresser, open her top drawers... revealing... Martha looked over
her shoulder back at Angela. "Mrs. Morgan, do you realize that
Johnny has been here before... in this room?" she said, locking
eyes with her for a moment, then turning back.

"That he has opened THESE drawers," she said matter-of-factly.
"You both share house keys with each other, you and Linda...
don't you?" she whispered as she reached into her drawer. "You
know, for emergencies if you are out of town, lost your keys, you
know..." she trailed off for a moment.

"Johnny has been here when your family has been out of town,
haven't you Johnny?" she whispered. "Many times..." she trailed
off. Angela was looking at them now... realization sinking in...
of what he must have... "or maybe you weren't our of town..." she
added, looking at Johnny... playfully accusing him.

"Which of Mrs. Morgan's bras is your favorite, Johnny," she asked
all of a sudden, pulling out a a simple, firm, full-cupped white
under-wire, turning to hold it so they both could see it, looking
into Angela's eyes. "Does this one feel good..." she whispered to
him... "wrapped around your cock..." eyes locked on hers now...
"when you stroke yourself..." she paused. Waited. "Did you cum in
this one?" she smiled playfully, her fingers lightly tracing the
inside of one cup...

Angela's eyes went wide. Shocked. Did he? Oh my god. It was so
obvious now that he would... "Did you imagine Mrs. Morgan's
breasts in these cups..." she whispered, eyes still on Angela's
as Johnny timidly took the bra from her... "Imagining her breasts
wrapped around your cock... as you stroked..." she whispered,
"Imagine... cumming between her breasts... or..." she paused...
"cumming on her pretty married face... while she wore this bra?"
she whispered very quietly, "while your balls rested on her
cleavage?" she teased them...

Angela's eyelids sank, half-closed. She wanted to touch herself.
Her clitoris pulsed. "Angela, you know now, don't you?" she
whispered, pausing, "How many times did you slip into one of your
bras and leave for work, not knowing that your breasts were...
that his cum... his his dried, teen cum... was all over your
breasts..." she whispered. "Imagine - while you sat in
meetings... directed your employees..." she smiled sweetly, "his
teen cum was in your bra..." she whispered. Angela almost came
without touching herself. She wanted to maul her clit... her legs
parted, her hand near her crotch. She looked up.

Martha was now holding a pair of panties. A pair of her big,
high-waisted, matronly panties. She had many pairs of them... was
wearing them now... their "control tops" helped with her pudge a
little. She knew it was a losing battle. Sigh. Why hadn't Martha
pulled out something sexier... no... what is she thinking?

And then reality struck. Martha smiled at her gently. "How did
these feel wrapped around your cock, Johnny?" she whispered. "You
sneak in here a lot, don't you?" she whispered. His head dropped,
his nod was ever so slight.

Angela's breath quickened, realizing that he had cum in her
panties... how many? Why had she never noticed? That she had worn
them... that his cum stains had been in contact with her... with
her... vagina. Standing in front of people at work. Professional
conversations. Oh my god. How many times had he cum in them...
had she worn them to work... had she made love to her husband, as
rare as that was these days.

Had her husband's fingers actually massaged Johnny's cum into
her... as he rubbed her through her panties... during foreplay?
No way, they would have noticed. Wouldn't they? My god. Her
fingers slipped between her thighs, pressing through the fabric
of her slacks, her eyes closed. She shuddered. The reality of
it... she could feel her nipples strain...

She heard them move, opened her eyes. They were standing right in
front of her as she sat on the low stool. Martha holding her bra
again. "Johnny, it felt good to rub your cock in Mrs. Morgan's
bra, didn't it?" she asked him again, "Imagining her breasts..."
she paused, "those breasts," she whispered, her hand gesturing
toward the woman seated before them, "those warm, full breasts...
right there... inside these cups," she whispered, holding up the
bra.

Johnny nodded, mesmerized. His best friend's mother was sitting
right in front of him as he stood next to Martha, so close... so
real. "Do you want to feel that... for real?" she asked quietly,
knowing the answer. They all knew the answer. He hesitated...
blushed... nodded. "Can you see the lines of her bra... under her
shirt?" Martha whispered... trailing off. He nodded again, is
face burning red.

"Mrs. Morgan," Martha said slowly, quietly, "unbutton your blouse
for your son's best friend," she whispered, looking into Angela's
eyes, "show him your bra..." she added softly.

Angela's eyes pleaded no. And yes. She wanted this... more than
anything, but if anyone... ANYONE... ever found out, it would...
destroy their families. Her job. It was so wrong. His cock was
right there. RIGHT THERE! Oh my god.  She froze, but... somehow
she managed to... "Johnny," she started, "you can't EVER tell
anyone - "

"Johnny promised Mrs. Scott..." Martha spoke over her, firmly,
pausing, "before he buried his young, hard cock deep into her
vagina..." she whispered. "Before he fucked his married teacher,
didn't you Johnny?" she whispered, smiling at him.

"Angela, he won't say anything..." she said gently, eyes locked
on hers. "Mrs. Scott enjoyed it so much... she had forgotten what
a young, hard, teen cock was like..." she whispered, "well... she
hadn't actually forgotten... in fact she saw them everyday... in
front of her... hidden in their school pants..." she trailed off.
"She imagined every one of them..."

Angela's eyes were now fixed on the crotch right in front of her,
imagining Mrs. Scott - watching her students. Her young men.
Boys, really. "Show you son's friend your bra, Angela" she
whispered, "you know you want to," she whispered, seeing Angela's
trembling hands begin to move, reaching for the top button...
fumbling... until it came undone... "Oh Mrs. Morgan," Martha
whispered, Johnny's eyes fixated, "you ARE naughty," she teased.

Angela looked down, the swell of her breasts pronounced as she
reached for the next button down. "Johnny, we can't..." she said
softly, trying to say something again ... anything... to reassure
herself.

The button came undone. "Mrs. Morgan," Martha whispered as the
mature woman's cleavage slowly came into view, her soft skin...
the swell of her breasts... "Are you going to let him feel your
breasts?" she whispered, "Suckle them? Just like your son suckled
them... when he was little?" she teased her, knowing her
triggers.

Angela shuddered as she worked another button, feeling his eyes
burning at her, knowing that he WAS going to suck her breasts. Oh
my god - it was going to happen tonight!

Her nipples strained, sensitive in her bra. Her clitoris tingled.
Her mind raced... the cups of her bra coming into view as the
button came undone... and... oh my god. She had forgotten.
Resting gently between her breasts... glaring at her... the small
gold cross she always wore. She wasn't all that religious, but
this was... wrong. So wrong. Her clit ached. What was she doing?

Her eyes came up. She stared at his crotch, inches from her...
her heart racing as she worked the next button. She could see the
hard bulge, inches from her. Little Johnny... standing right in
front of her. Hard... for her... his young, teen cock hard... for
his best friend's mother. Oh my god. She jumped when she felt
Martha's light touch on her shoulder. "Open you shirt for him,
Mrs. Morgan" she heard her whisper as she fumbled with the last
button. It came undone...

And she did it, the silky blouse parted... slipping to either
side of her breasts...

"Oh Johnny," Angela whispered, seeing his young teen cock flex in
his shorts as he stared at her breasts... filling her bra. He
wanted to reach out... touch them... trace them... feel them. His
hands came up slowly... he was going to- Martha pushed them away,
gently. "All in good time, young man," she said lightly.

"See how full they are... in her nice white bra..." she
whispered... "aching to be nuzzled... suckled... by a young teen
boy... like you," she trailed off, winking. "You can see her
areola, can't you?" she whispered, his eyes locked on the lightly
darkened areas around her erect nipples showing through her bra.

"Mrs. Morgan, take him out," she whispered, commanding suddenly.
Angela, looked up at him, their eyes met, and then she reached...
her finger tips finding the elastic waistband of his gym shorts,
tugging down. "That's a good mommy," Martha teased. Johnny was
puzzled... what the? ... but that lasted all of 1 second. He
didn't care. She was touching him...

He was fixated on the site... looking down. His best friend's
mother, leaning forward as she worked his shorts down... the hair
clip on the back of her head that held her hair swept back over
her ears in a sort of loose pony tail, swaying lightly as her
hands worked his shorts down over his knees, helping him step
out. The firm white bra... her cleavage... her full breasts... he
was going to get to FEEL her breasts... his cock twitched in his
underpants...

"Mrs. Morgan, your husband wont be home until tomorrow," she
whispered. "Take his teen cock out of his underpants... now!" she
demanded playfully, but forcefully. Angela hesitated. Oh my god.
But her hard nipples... her tingling crotch... the thought of
it... she gave in. She wanted to touch...

She grasped the waistband of his underpants, and tugged. It was
only for a moment, his cock hung up in the front of the
waistband. "That's right," Martha urged gently, watching as this
lady - old enough to be his mother - tugged one last time, and
his hard, teen, young cock sprang free... inches from her face.
Bobbing... swaying...

"That's a good mommy," Martha teased again, letting her feast her
eyes for a few moments. "Soon enough, Mrs. Morgan... soon
enough..." she whispered, "that young cock will be inside you..."
she said softly.

"Lean back now, Mrs. Morgan," she whispered, her hand lightly on
her shoulder, her other hand on the small of his back, urging him
a little closer. "Look at her full breasts now, Johnny," she
whispered, "hidden inside that nice white bra, waiting for
you..." she said softly, pausing for a moment. "Use them," she
commanded gently, "now..." she whispered... seeing him hesitate,
urging him forward...

It took a moment for him to gather his resolve, but when he did,
he went for it. He leaned forward, hesitated, searching her
eyes... but she didn't see him. Her eyes were fixated on the teen
cock in front of her. Its spongy head, engorged. hard. "Martha,
I..." she started, but he leaned forward, and laid his hard cock
in her cleavage... the warmth of her skin on the underside of his
cock... the material of her bra under his shaft... he pressed
forward... oh my god.

"Use her," Martha urged, her own hand lightly guiding his wrist
as he took hold of his shaft. "That's right," she whispered as he
began to gently slide his cock over her breasts... around them...
both ladies staring as he traced the fullness of her breasts, the
underside of his cock feeling the seams of her bra... the warm
flesh of her cleavage... he laid his cock between her breasts
again... and started to slowly stroke... "Johhny. no," Angela
started, but Martha jumped in, "That's right, use mommy's
breasts!" she teased playfully.

Johnny lost it. Without warning, he reached down... and filled
each hand with a breast... "Johnny!" Angela protested, but it was
too late. He felt their softness, the nylon feel of her bra...
squeezed lightly... forced them together... trying to wrap them
around his cock... stroking her cleavage... kneading them
together...

"In your husband's bedroom, Mrs. Morgan!" Martha whispered,
playing on her fantasies.  "Oh my god," Angela whispered,
"Johnny, no...", but the feel of his boyish hands on her
breasts... fondling... kneading... she couldn't stop. "That's
right," Martha whispered, "use her breasts," she said again, "her
son won't be home until tomorrow..." she whispered, pausing for a
moment, "fuck her breasts..." she said softly, seeing him stroke,
his cock riding on her chest... his hands knead, massage... her
nipples hard... straining in her bra.

Angela couldn't help it... she stared... mesmerized by his young
hard cock... lying in her cleavage... feeling him press her
breasts together... watching him stroke... the gold cross
appearing... then disappearing as his young teen cock slipped up
and down... he was her best friend's son... oh my god... Linda
was right next door... right now... she slipped a hand between
her legs... pressed on her spot... oh my god...

"No, no..." Martha whispered, lightly taking her hand away, "not
now..." she smiled, "we have all night, Mrs. Morgan," she paused,
"HE will do that for you," she whispered in her ear. "Johnny,"
she whispered, motioning for him to let go... knowing he was
getting close... the far away look in his eyes... "Johnny..." she
got his attention. She smiled as he struggled to stop. But he did
it.

Turning Angela toward the vanity... she opened it. "Mrs. Morgan's
lipstick case..." she whispered as she held up a zipped leather
bag, "Johnny, why don't you two pick out a color together?" she
said softly... gently... Angela's eyes searching hers for a
moment... before she realized what... what Martha was doing...
she was going to... her mind raced.

"Here is a nice bright red," Martha whispered, holding it up for
Johnny, popping the cap, twisting the color stick out, "Oh, and
here is a nice light burgundy... subdued but strong..." she
trailed off, "Mrs. Morgan would look beautiful in this color...
don't you think?" she teased.

"This one is a soft, glossy natural color... nice..." she
whispered, as they went through a few more. Angela's heart was
pounding, the realization of what was about to happen hitting
her. "Johnny," Martha asked gently, "which color would you like
your friend's mother to wear for you?" she whispered.

He was unsure what to do. Somehow, he pointed. "Nice..." Martha
whispered, taking the light burgundy lipstick... handing it to
Angela. "Be a good lady," she teased, smiling softly, "and put
this on for him," she whispered, "you want to look your best,
don't you?" she asked gently, sincerely.

Angela trembled. She was going to... her forearm shaking
lightly... seeing him watching out of the corner of her eye...
she was putting lipstick on... so he could... this was so wrong.
So wrong. But... with trembling fingers, she smoothed the glossy
burgundy over her mature lips... top... bottom... pressed her
lips together. Automatic. Finishing so he could... oh my god...
she shuddered visibly.

Then it was done. Martha turned her gently again on the vanity
stool. Her breasts still exposed to his teen eyes, inside her
bra... she felt that feeling again. Surreal. This was happening
to someone else.

Martha's fingertips touched her lightly under her chin... lifting
her face to look at him. "It's time..." she whispered, "Johnny,"
she paused, motioning for him to step closer. Angela froze... his
cock was so close to her... to her face... oh look at that! So
young... so hard... so many times she had wondered... it was so
clean... so young... so smooth... his pubic hair youthful and
bushy and dark... his balls... oh my god... she was going to...

Martha took him gently by one wrist... placing his warm palm on
the side of her head... lightly covering her ear... she flinched
involuntarily, pulling back slightly. Martha motioned for him to
do the same with his other hand. "Mrs. Morgan," she whispered. So
surreal, Angela looked up... into his eyes, her head held in his
hands, "look at it," Martha whispered, and she did...

Johnny stared down at her, his cock bobbing as he stepped even
closer, his knees pushing hers apart gently. And she let him. She
couldn't believe it. Martha moved behind her, placing her hands
lightly over his. Together, they held her head softly. "Oh Mrs.
Morgan," Martha whispered, "this is Linda's son!" she teased,
ever so quietly.

Angela reacted involuntarily, her head pulling back again... but
their hands held her there... gently... as his teen cock neared
her lips... her burgundy painted lips... her eyes locked onto
it... the bulging, spongy head of his erect young penis...
throbbing... flared.. full... clean smelling... youthful, the
lightly veined shaft behind it, disappearing into his pubic hair.
Young. Young and hard. Clean and smooth. Unlike her husband's
matted, middle-aged, soft groin.

"Johnny," Martha whispered again, coaxing him forward. "No"
Angela tried to protest weakly, but as she did, the head of his
cock touched her lips... oh my god... and he pushed in... her
lips forced around him... parting... slipping over it... feeling
him inside her mouth. She reacted again, pulling back... but was
lightly held in place by his warm, boyish hands... her lips
closing around him... her tongue forced down into her mouth...
"Oh Johnny," Martha whispered... "use her," she whispered softly.

He held her there, the warmth of her mature, motherly mouth
around him was so erotic. "Gently push your cock into her married
mouth..." Martha continued, firmly, seeing him pause... seeing
him look into Angela's eyes... searching for permission...
hesitating... "she wants you too..." she whispered, "don't you
Mrs. Morgan?" she teased.

And he did it. They held her head gently... and he pushed
forward... "Fuck her mouth," Martha commanded in a whisper,
watching as his shaft penetrated a little further... he felt her
warm tongue on the underside of his cock... on his shaft... its
natural resistance as he forced himself in... at first. "Hold her
head..." Martha whispered... "and tell her what you are going to
do..."what you have dreamed of doing..." she whispered... "since
you were... younger..." she said softly.

He stammered... unable to take his eyes off her... at what he was
seeing... this woman he had known... almost as a mother... since
he was a baby... his cock in her mouth... his shaft pushing in...
her lips stretched around it... her face impaled on him... oh my
god... so warm... "M... m... Mrs. Morgan..." he managed to
whisper, slowly... as he pushed... and then pulled back a
little... her eyes closed now. Oh my god, it is happening she
thought...

Her breasts in her bra... oh they felt nice, his mind all over...
 "I am going to..." he tried... "Oh my god, Mrs. Morgan..." he
said... "I am going to... I am going to cum in your mouth!" he
hissed softly, breathing hard... his hands firmly on the side of
her head now... slowly beginning to stroke... his shaft
disappearing into her warm, wet mouth a few inches... feeling her
tongue move now... pressing up! He was... he was fucking her
mouth... he pushed a little harder now... holding her head
firmly... oh my god.

"Johnny..." Martha leaned down, close to Angela's ear...
watching... his cock now stroking into her... watching as she
leaned forward slightly to help him... giving in to her desire.
"Mrs. Morgan has a secret..." she whispered again... watching as
he stroked smoothly now... as his friend's mother now bobbing her
head... regardless of his hold on her... Angela sucked now... in
rhythm with his stroking... her tongue pressing on his shaft as
she tried to take more... oh my god! What am I doing?!

Her hands came up... involuntarily... she cupped her own breasts
through her bra... her fingers sought out... found her nipples...
tweaking them... clamping them firmly... squeezing each time her
son's friend stroked into her mouth... his shaft invading...
filling her mouth... feeling the head of his cock press against
the opening to her throat with each stroke now... her hands
lightly massaging her own breasts... then clamping her nipples
again as he stroked... her head smoothly moving back and forth in
his grasp as he held her...

Angela lost it. It was Eddie's cock she was secretly thinking
about! Her husband's bedroom! It was too much! Her clitoris
throbbed, Her hands came up... her left hand grasped the shaft of
his teen cock, thumb and forefinger wrapping around the base...
her right hand gently cupping his boyish, smooth teen balls...
she squeezed him... tightened her fingers around the base of his
shaft. hard. Oh my god.

"Your husband won't be home until tomorrow..." Martha whispered,
seeing her let loose. Her head moving... her lips tight as the
rode down his shaft... her tongue swirling, pressing up...
Eddie's cock! she thought... oh my god! her clitoris tingled...
her hips rolled in on the stool... trying to release... oh my
god!

Johnny's head went back... his hands held her head firmly... his
cock throbbed... pulsed... "I'm... cumming!" he gurgled... "SUCK
MY COCK, MRS. MORGAN!" he hissed... commanding now...  "SUCK IT!"
he demanded... and erupted... pushing his cock into her mouth...
her lips stretched wide encircling his shaft... holding it
there... squeezing...  "SWALLOW..." he managed... his cum filling
her mouth as he pulsed... the orgasm electric around the shaft
behind the head... racing through his groin... his cum filling
her mouth...

She gagging silently as she tried to swallow... so much cum. He
was so young. Her fingers gently playing with his smooth balls...
coaxing him... he pulsed again... her hands holding him... her
lips holding him... his cum smearing on her fingers as some
leaked out... he throbbed... she closed her eyes... he slipped
out... and she closed her lips... his cock bobbed with one last
jolt of the orgasm that had fully washed over him... "What at a
good mother..." Martha said very, very softly, "swallow his cum,"
she demanded.

And she did it. Her cheeks burning red from embarrassment. She
did it. She swallowed.

"Oh my god, Mrs. Morgan, that was -" but Martha cut him off,
"Shhhh..." she said quietly, grabbing a tissue from her vanity.
"Shhhh..." was all she said. Angela sitting silently, but wanting
to speak. Wanting to say something... Martha shouldn't have...
"Shhhh..." was all Martha said as she gently took her hand...
using the tissue... cleaning her fingers... "It's ok..."

"Here..." she said, taking her left hand, "let's clean this..."
she whispered, taking her finger... twisting lightly... "you
won't need this tonight anyway," she smiled sweetly, and ever so
gently slipped her wedding band from her finger...

Angela almost choked. Watching as Martha cleaned it, tissue damp
with the semen of her son's best friend... wiping it from the
gold band, setting the ring in a small box on the vanity.

"There..." she whispered, "we have all night," she said again,
now slipping the engagement ring off... cleaning off his cum...
setting it in the same box... "I think he knows now..." she
trailed off, putting her arm around her. "It's early still..."
she smiled, "we have all night."

-------

The phone rang. And rang. No answer. She was just about to hang
up, when Martha answered. "Hi Linda" she said professionally,
seeing her name on the caller ID. Confident, but concerned. "Are
you OK?" she asked gently, checking - she knew what Linda had
seen. Or... was supposed to have seen... by now. She didn't know
if...

"I..." Linda started, "am not sure," she told her honestly, her
normally happy, vivacious voice very unsure, very subdued. "It's
OK Linda," Martha said reassuringly. "We will work it out," she
continued, "but... I will need to see you... soon, OK?" she said
firmly, "We will work out a plan," she added, "but I would like
to... will need to see just YOU, to get started, OK?" she asked.
Unsure how she would respond.

"I... OK," she said, "but I don't really under-" she started.
"We'll talk when I see you, OK?" Linda was quiet. "I have an
opening Monday at 10am and another at 1:30pm," she said,
listening. "OK, I will see you at 10am," she replied. "Linda, it
will be OK, I promise..." she trailed off.