Dad came home drunk and as usual started beating up my mother. I put off my book and I went between mom and dad. I pleaded dad not to beat mom. But da... asked me why I supported my mother so much and whether am I fucking my mother when he was not around. Out of anger I caught hold of his shirt.A flared up father beat me bitterly. He tore off my baniyan and stripped off my lungi. He kicked me hard with rage and chucked me out. My terrified mother ran towards me as I fell down. It was a cold. She fit her son's cock between the fiery lips of her cunt, sucking in her breath, and arched her eye brows in pleasure-pain as the head spread the lips, and slipped fluidly pass. Donna lifted her hips, sliding her cunt onto her son's cock, hissing as her cunt stretched around that throbbing, invading hardness. Her eyes rolled as Michael's cock penetrated her cunt completely. The roughness of his pants, scratching along her inner thighs, along with the feeling of the zipper rubbing against her. I remember being quite impressed with his powers of seduction. So, there was my beautifully innocent wife lying prone on my mate’s sofa in nothing but a skimpy red thong, and judging by the damp patch in her crotch area, she was quite enjoying the experience. Pete started kissing and licking her body all over, gently pulling the crotch of her thong to one side to massage and lick her swollen fanny while Debbie lay quietly moaning with her eyes closed. Gradually, Pete moved up her body to her. Every trick I'd learnt in the last fifteen years with her; I used to get her off in a hurry. Again she came, she describes this one as "crushing".While she's still woozy from the orgasm, I pick her up and take her to the bed. I undress her gently, then turn her over, raise her hips, and pound her pussy as hard and as fast as I can. I'm channelling my inner fifteen-year-old in the clumsiness of my approach. It was a technique we'd found she liked, I didn't hear any moans, as her face was buried.
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