Mature Ind Housewife Fuck

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"I'm sorry, Mistress", I replied apologetically not making eye contact. "Graham, I do believe this is going to work out nicely. By the looks of your little erection, so far so good baby", she teased while I continue massaging her feet. It was humiliating, though extremely exciting. My deepest secret desires were about to come true. Almost like a dream to me, I begin to wonder, would this all disappear tomorrow and my life return to the same dismal existence?. After 20 minutes of Mistress Sarah's sly remarks, and my massaging her feet and shoulders, she pushed off and said, "wank for me, you little pathetic stroker!". My penis twitched which made her giggle as I began stroking slowly, my already stiffened cock. "Oh, honey, remember our number one rule! You must ONLY cum when I say! Got it?". She reminded, to which I replied, "Yes mistress Sarah." Then, she ordered me to stroke faster. Obviously following orders, it wasn't long before I was totally on edge and still she refused. Do you want to taste it again, go ahead mommy, taste it” as I shook a little of the dripping pre-cum onto her lips. She was playing the game now, with her tongue flicking out as she tried to catch my swinging cock in her open mouth. After many attempts, I let her warm mouth engulf the head of my cock as she moaned and closed her eyes and began sucking it down her hot throat. Cruelly, I took it away and began slapping her face with it again. She looked at me so sadly as I said “you like your own son’s cock, way to much, I think your the pervert”. I knew she was trying to figure me out as I just moved between her legs and buried my cock in her hairy old wet hole, and left it there as I rubbed her clit with my thumbs. I watched her face contort, whenever I did something she liked.My cock was balls deep in my mom’s hot pussy but I wasn’t fucking her. As I manipulated her clit, she closed her eyes and began to undulate her hips and moan, as she used her hands on my butt to try and make me.
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He had very dark hair that was cut short and always immaculately styled, a nice thick mustache and a permanent five-O-clock shadow. An olive complexion along with his last name led me to believe that he was of Italian decent. His shirts were always open at the collar which allowed a copious amount of chest hair to be visible, and he always wore tight, stretchy dress slacks that made his soft package, while not huge, definitely noticeable. About the time I entered HS and found that I was attracted to men as well as women, I became fascinated with his package which was right at arm level when I was getting my hair cut. I started to make sure that the back of my hand and arms were in constant contact with his crotch anytime he was beside me in close. His cock would grow. The first few times he would excuse himself on the pretext that he had to get another pair if shears, but eventually he realized I was doing it on purpose and would press his cock against my hand. We would continue to.

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