Jealous mom
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Jealous ProtectorChapter 2 free porn video
Patty slowed as she neared the house. She didn't want to burst in all out of breath and have her mother wonder what she had been doing. She stopped at the front steps and smoothed out her clothes and brushed all the particles of leaves and grass from her that she could find. Then she sat down on the bottom step, pressing her legs tightly together trying to stop the maddening tingle in her unfulfilled loins. She imagined that all her mother would have to do was take one look at her face to see the guilt written there.
But then the bitter thought ran through her mind--would her mother really care what she was doing? She never seemed to pay any attention to her any more. It was just those awful men she had taken up with and that damned liquor. Patty felt a twinge of guilt shoot through her for harboring these unkind thoughts about tier mother, but sometimes she couldn't help it. Oh, sure, she understood how hard it must have been on the older woman since Dad died. A tear trickled down her cheek as the memory of her father came back to her. It was just two years ago that he had died, shortly after they had moved here from the city. Dad had always hated the city, and it was his life-long dream to move out to where he could feel good about breathing the air and let the beautiful silence soak into him, even if it meant driving forty miles to work every day.
He had been killed in a traffic accident on the way to work only two months after moving to the valley.
Patty loved the valley but she wished they had never come here. Maybe Dad would still be alive. Patty had loved her father. They had been very close. The loss had been made all the worse by the way it had affected her mother. Instead of Patty and her mother drawing closer together they had drifted apart. Mom had taken it hard. For the first couple of months after the accident she had hardly spoken. She seemed to be existing in a state of perpetual shock. And then Patty had noticed the empty bottles. Her mother never drank openly or got nasty drunk, but the liquor seemed to put her in some kind of inner world where nothing could touch her, not even Patty, her own daughter.
It was almost a year before the men had started to come around. Patty couldn't blame her mother for wanting to be with a man. During the past year the ripening of her own body had shown her how strong that need could be. Even though it was almost impossible to imagine anyone replacing her father, Patty had lately begun to wish that Mom could find some nice man she could date regularly. At least that would be preferable to the way it was now.
Her mother kept a steady flow of drunks and bums, the lowest element in the county, sneaking into her bed. The young blonde girl suspected that her mother unconsciously chose these vile men to fulfill her sexual needs in a way that would remove all danger of any of them replacing the memory of her husband in her heart. But that still didn't make the spectacle any less disgusting for Patty. She hated to see her mother debasing herself in this manner.
Patty's thoughts were interrupted as Champ began to nuzzle at her insistently. He laid his huge head on her. lap and looked up at her lovingly with his soft brown eyes. Patty looked down at him for a moment, the tears still dimming her eyes, and then impulsively she threw her arms around the faithful animal's neck and hugged him close against her soft, full breasts.
Oh, thank God she had him! she thought gratefully. He helped fill the vacuum left when her father had been taken from her and was her constant companion. There was a deep love shared between them that helped give her the strength and compassion to try to understand her mother's problem.
With a sigh the troubled teenager got to her feet. She might as well go into the house, she thought.
She was just about to open the front door when she suddenly froze into stillness.
There was a groan from inside the house!
Her mind was blank for a moment, and then she was struck by the sudden fear that something was wrong with her mother. But as she reached for the doorknob, she froze again as she heard a harsh male laugh.
She didn't know what to do. Obviously there was a man in the house with her mother, no unusual thing, but it sounded as though he were hurting her.
There was another groan, but it was longer this time and had an unearthly pleading tone to it as though someone were being tortured. Patty dropped her hand from the door-handle and started to back away. Her mind was a riot of confused emotions. What should she do? Should she call the police? Perhaps some fiend had broken in and was assaulting her mother. Then her mind was made up for her as a pleading voice spoke again.
"Oh, God! Yessss, yessss, do it to me like that!"
It was her mother again, and her voice was drunkenly slurred in a desperate pleading tone Patty had never heard before. The confused young girl paled in the darkness as a new and disturbing thought came into her mind. The man was obviously hurting her mother, but it didn't sound as if it were against her will, the way she was almost crying for him to continue.
But perhaps he was making her plead with him. Perhaps he was a sadist like some of the men she had read about in her psychology course. Men who enjoyed hearing women beg. Patty stood breathlessly on the porch trying to make up her mind what to do. She couldn't call the police or anyone else unless she was certain what was going on.
She had to find out.
The confused young girl took a deep breath and backed slowly down the front steps. She began to walk cautiously around the house towards her mother's window. As she picked her way through the untended clumps of high grass next to the house, she could see a beam of fight streaming into the darkness from her mother's window. The curtains were not completely closed. She motioned for Champ to sit, and then moved closer. She hesitated and then took a deep breath before summoning up the courage to look inside.
The part blonde teenager couldn't believe the sight that met her eyes!
Her mother was lying nakedly spread-eagled in the center of her bed not five feet away, so close that Patty felt she could reach out and touch her. The older woman's head was rolling back and forth on the mattress, her face contorted in ecstasy. A man was kneeling between her widespread legs, running his lips and tongue moistly up and down her wantonly trembling body. The man had obviously sucked her mother's heaving breasts into quivering hardness and then traced a wet hot path down to the flat plane of her jerking stomach and inner thighs. Her mother writhed beneath his flicking caresses like a woman possessed, with her hands tangled tightly in his hair, pulling his lips greedily to her hungering flesh. It was a moment before the girl outside could see enough of the man's face to recognize him.
It was Hank Jones. Her heart skipped a beat. Of all the men who came to see her mother, Mr. Jones was the one Patty loathed the most. He was loud and coarse, and she could sense the cruelty lurking behind his beefy features. But more than that, she was frightened by the way he sometimes looked at her, as if he were undressing her with his eyes.
Patty leaned forward, gripping the corners of the window- frame until her hands ached, completely incapable of movement. The stunned young girl knew she should run, bide, get away from here. She tried to blot the shocking picture from her mind but couldn't. She had to took. The obscene spectacle was mesmerizing her. Her mind rebelled at watching a man toying with the naked, squirming body of her own mother. It was depraved and lewd, but she could not turn away.
To her amazement she found that there was a certain wicked satisfaction in watching this pagan scene. Her mother was beautiful, she thought as she gazed in intoxicated rapture at the nakedly enchanting figure spread in sacrifice on the bed before her. She was only thirty-five years old, and her voluptuous breasts were still as firm as a high school girl's. Her waist was slender and swelled out into the beautifully rounded hips and thighs of a mature woman. Her hair was blonde, like Patty's, and lay in a golden cloud on the pillow around her frantically twisting head.
Hank had worked the older woman up to a fever pitch; her mouth was hanging open wide in ecstatic rapture and her glassy lust-smoked eyes stared up into nothingness. Hank placed himself in position over her rapidly rising and failing belly, his face hanging within inches of the golden-haired pussy mound below. His hands were pressed down on the soft swell of her stomach, and his thumbs dug into the fleshy outer flanges of her cunt lips. Patty sucked in her stomach with a gasp as she saw his thumbs massage the passion-swollen flesh for a moment. And then he pulled outwards slowly, parting the sparsely curling hair and exposing the moist, red slit of her mother's vagina. The dainty bud of the older woman's clitoris was clearly visible, throbbing into hardness just above the stretched elastic opening of her cuntal entrance.
Hank's head dropped, his long wet tongue snaking out to flick teasingly at the quivering little nub of raw nerves at the top of her slit. Her mother's nakedly squirming body jerked at the electric contact, and her legs clamped tightly together round his head, her soft inner thighs imprisoning his ears in a vise-like grip. Her hips began a slow up and down movement in rhythm to the probing of his wetly slavering tongue, and soft mewls of animal pleasure came from between her clenched teeth. Caught in a mindless fit of uncontrolled lust, the beautiful woman's upper torso writhed tike a belly dancer's as she lay back naked and panting on the mattress.
Oceana
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