17 comments/ 374294 views/ 45 favorites Graham Parker's Mother By: geronimo_appleby OK, a quick disclaimer before you get to the scene proper. In a previous story I submitted to Illustrated - MILF Model Melody I was accused of filching photos off the internet; that is not true, I know the model depicted in the piece, as difficult as that may be to believe, and I have her permission to use the images here. Seriously, believe it, I know her. If you're interested she has a website, etc. Right, now that's out of the way I can explain why there are no explicit pictures of 'Melody' using the vibrator. When I submitted the other story the Literotica site owner sent me a PM regarding graphic photos, even censoring open leg images -- hence the pics here are relatively tame. Sorry, but that's the way it is. I hope you enjoy the scene all the same. If you want to send feedback then do so by PM on Lit, Public Comment below, or by email. If you want a reply or response to feedback then email is best. There may be errors or typos in the text. I check my own stuff and no matter how closely I scrutinise, I always seem to miss something. If there are fuck-ups remaining, please forgive me. Here it is, a quick piece about a MILF -- Graham Parker's mother. Oh, I have no idea who Graham Parker is; I just made up the name for the submission. There's nothing sinister in the choice at all. GA -- Langkawi, Malaysia -- 20th of January 1023. Taking the key had scared me. First of all I'd been shit-scared of being caught; anyone could have seen me loitering around the front of the house, one of the neighbours might have watched me lift the plant pot next the front step and take the key from its hiding place, but I was relying on the fact that I was well known on that street, since I was a regular visitor, not to arouse suspicion. Another reason for my worry was that even while I knew I was doing wrong, I still did it anyway. This thing had ballooned out of control -- my obsession for Graham Parker's mother had crossed the border into stalker country and I feared for my own sanity. But I couldn't help myself, everything about Graham Parker's mother turned me on. I liked her blonde hair and the way she looked at me. I thought she had a pretty face and I loved her scent that wafted along in her wake as she moved around the ground floor of the house. I wondered what her bedroom smelled like ... and her sheets. Whenever I saw a hint of cleavage in the sometimes revealing tops she wore my dick got so stiff it could cut glass. I'd seen her in her bikini once while she sunbathed on the patio at the back of the house. I think that's when I really started to get the hots for Graham Parker's mother, when Graham and I arrived unexpectedly one hot afternoon and I'd seen the woman's big tits in her bikini bra. That evening I'd wanked myself off three times while I fantasised about Melody Parker's jugs. I conjured up scenarios where I could spy on Melody as she undressed at night, when she got dressed in the morning, or when she lay on the terrace behind her house and sunbathed in the nude. After that it got to the stage where I'd mooch around the house, snooping into rooms I had no business being in, my heart hammering in my chest, the heady cocktail of sexual arousal and anxiety at being discovered out of bounds hot in my veins. I loitered in the supermarket when I knew she'd be there, following her along the aisles for ten minutes or so before engineering a meeting. Then Melody Parker would smile at me politely and enquire about my mum and how my job was going, and all the while I'd be angling closer to her to catch a whiff of her scent or to catch a glimpse down her vertiginous cleavage. At her house, whenever Graham was in, I'd call around on the pretext of wanting to see Graham but then contrive to spend a few minutes in her presence as she watched the television or made a cup of tea in the kitchen. I could watch her for hours if she'd let me; just doing normal, mundane things like the shopping or sitting in front of the box or boiling the kettle were enough. Then the idea came to me, and at first I'd pushed the dark thought back into its box and sealed the lid and sat on it to make sure the insidious scheme couldn't escape. But I still went ahead and did it anyway. I took the key to the front door of Melody's house and had a copy made, returning the original to its hiding place with nobody the wiser. I had no real plan in mind, but just possessing that key gave me such a delicious, wicked thrill. My big chance came when Graham told me he'd be away at the weekend. "We're going up to see my grandparents," he said one Thursday evening. "Tomorrow night," he lamented, "a fucking Friday." Graham turned a dejected face towards me as we sat in his bedroom. "She wants to drive up there on a Friday evening. Fucking mental idea if you ask me." Graham rolled his eyes to emphasise his disgust for his mother's plan, but all I could think of at hearing his news was that I could roam around the house at will. Hell, I could even sleep in Melody's bed if I fancied it -- have a wank in there if I chose! I sauntered up to the front door as if I had every right to be there. The key slid into the mortise with a gentle snicker and turned in the lock like a wet dream. I knew the spare would have been moved from beneath the plant pot since it was only there when there was potential for Graham to lose or forget his own key, and I gave a mutter of thanks that I'd had the foresight to have a copy cut. The front door closed behind me and I immediately punched in the four digit code that Graham had naively supplied me with when I'd asked about the alarm. The chirruping ended with a double beep to signal that the alarm was successfully disabled. I was in! And I had a whole weekend to investigate Melody Parker's boudoir. Where to begin? Upstairs in her bedroom was the obvious choice, and I almost tripped up the stairs in my indecent haste to get a good long look through Melody's most personal things. At her bedroom door I forced myself to calm down, realising that I had to leave everything exactly as I'd found it. Anything out of place would arouse suspicion and might lead to the police being called. "Be cool," I muttered over and over, my mantra for the weekend. Starting at Melody's dressing table I sifted through piles of neatly folded clothes, some of them were items that I'd seen her wearing. Her underwear drawer was packed with lacy, febrile delicates, and I could barely resist the urge to touch my cock when I imagined the places that those garments had covered, the soft cotton of a diaphanous thong nestled tight against Melody's vulva for example. In a drawer in a bedside table I discovered gold, a pornographic magazine and a small-sized vibrator, red and shaped like a penis. "Melody," I breathed when I pictured the woman herself, naked and wide-legged and rubbing the buzzing vibe through her labia before fucking it into her opening. "You dirty fucking bitch," I breathed, my cock stiff inside my jeans. Unable to resist the temptation I unzipped my jeans and hauled them to my knees. Then I lay on Melody's bed and pumped at my cock while I flicked through the lurid pages featuring good-looking models in hard-core porn poses. When I came, with the vibrator under my nose in an attempt to smell the woman's musk on it, I had no choice but to take the entire deluge of my ejaculate against my tee-shirt. I jerked at my cock and aimed the spitting eye at myself so there were no tell-tale semen stains on Melody's bed. With some reluctance I returned the dirty magazine and the vibrator to the drawer, wondering what other secrets I might uncover. I hoped to find a diary so I could delve into Melody's day-to-day life and find out what she got up to. I was curious about men, and even though a dark slide of jealousy curdled in my guts whenever I imagined Melody with a man, I realised that she had to get sex from somewhere. Melody Parker was somewhere around forty years old I estimated, and it stood to reason that, as a single woman, she'd need cock from time to time. If I could locate a diary or something akin to a journal I hoped I'd be able to fathom out a strategy whereby I could get into Melody's knickers. A wild fantasy to be sure, but maybe she had a penchant for young blokes around her own son's age. She wouldn't be the only woman with those tastes. However, as much as I searched I failed to come across anything that would give me a deeper insight into what made Graham Parker's mother tick. I snuck out of the house at past midnight, and was back again the following afternoon. Even though I'd found nothing beyond the magazine and vibrator, which upon analysis wasn't such a shocking discovery, I still hoped to uncover something darker about the subject of my obsession. In the end I had to satisfy myself with taking a pair of Melody's used knickers out of the laundry hamper. That alone was a risk, but one that was worth taking -- I mean what kind of thief breaks into a house and takes away nothing other than a single item of underwear? OK, yes, a pervy one, but since the flat-screen television and the laptop computers were left behind, I thought Melody would put the missing underwear down to a case of absent-mindedness and dismiss the oddity -- if she even noticed in the first place. As it happened, on Monday evening when, unable to bear such an extended separation, I went to the house supposedly in search of Graham, Melody gave me such a cold look of disdain I felt my guts turn to water. "Just the person I wanted to see," she said, contempt twisting her face. "You get your arse inside this house, Patrick. You and I are going to have a talk." "Uh ... is Graham in, Mrs Parker?" I asked in an attempt to appear calm and unworried, even though my sphincter clenched and unclenched, fluttering so fast I thought I might actually shit myself. "No," the woman snapped. "And you want to think yourself lucky. If he knew what you'd been up to he'd be kicking the living daylights out of you." Now all of that didn't sound too promising. Melody must know something, somebody must have seen me coming and going, but that in itself wouldn't explain the woman's demeanour, she was properly angry about something, disgusted even, and I wracked my brains trying to think up any reason other than the obvious for Melody's ire. How could she know anything? "What is it, Mrs Parker?" I asked, the tremor in my voice belying my innocent attitude. "What's wrong? You seem upset." "You just get in here and sit down," Melody ordered as she led the way along the short hallway to the living room. She gestured to a wide leather armchair while she arranged her skirt around her legs after settling onto the black leather sofa that matched my own seat. I couldn't help noticing Melody's pink shoes and the white blouse that moulded to her generous bosom. "What is it, Mrs Parker?" I warbled, my fingers picking at a loose thread in the seam of my jeans. Her tone was acid. "Have a good weekend sniffing through my underwear drawer did you, Patrick?" I stared at her, too numbed with shock to respond. How the fuck did she know? My mouth opened and closed a few time but no sound emerged. "So you found a magazine and a vibrator in my bedside cabinet ... and decided to have a little play with yourself on my bed as well." "Mrs Parker ..." I managed to babble, panic swelling in my throat. She knew! She knew all of it, and I couldn't deny it when she accused me outright. "You got into the house and cancelled the alarm, that's all logged, Patrick -- date and time, all recorded." "Oh, shit, Mrs Parker, I'm ... I'm so sorry ..." I was beginning to gabble nonsense when the woman told me to shut up. "You don't know about the cameras in the house, do you? As well as disabling the alarm you have to switch off the surveillance envelope as well, Patrick. The whole place is covered by CCTV that's linked to a laptop computer. I've seen it all, watched you snooping around and seen you playing with yourself. And I want my underwear back, Patrick, before I take all the evidence to the police and have you charged." Oh Jesus! I saw it all in a split second. The humiliation of knowing that the police would see me stroking my cock on Melody's bed, the court case and possible outcomes; even if I got away with a fine, I'd still have a criminal record. What about my job? And what would my parents say? I started to cry. At nineteen years old I sat there in front of Melody Parker and began to heave great sobs of self-pity and self-loathing. "I'm sorry, Mrs Parker," I blubbed. "It was a mad thing to do. I didn't mean any harm, it's just ... It's just that you ... That I ..." I couldn't bring myself to tell her how much I fancied her, about the obsession I'd nurtured for the past few weeks and months. How could I tell her? I couldn't heap more mortification upon myself by telling the woman just what had motivated me to defile her personal space and to stick my nose into the private corners of her life. "if I could go back and undo it, Mrs Parker," I said, sniffing and cuffing at my eyes. "I'd go back and make sure I never did anything so ... so ..." "Dishonest?" Melody offered, her eyebrows arching. "Sneaky, devious, downright bloody nasty? Is that what you're trying to say, Patrick?" "Yes," I sighed. "All of that. I've been so stupid, Mrs Parker. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." "Why did you do it, Patrick?" Melody asked, her tone softening. I looked up from where I'd been studying the rug and saw the woman's eyes regarding me with some compassion. "I ... Oh, Mrs Parker ... I can't tell you." I shrugged and my eyes slid away from her face. "Do you fancy me, Patrick?" she asked softly. "Is that it?" I nodded and mumbled, "Yes." "You think I don't know, Patrick? Don't you realise that I've been aware of you mooning around after me for all this time?" The heat rose in my face as her words sunk in. "I'm forty-one years old, I know when a man has the hots for me, and you popping up in the supermarket those times ... after following me around the aisles ... Come on, Patrick, you made it so obvious I couldn't help but notice." Mortified I could only stare at her and mumble an apology. "I'm sorry, Mrs Parker," I said for what seemed the hundredth time in five minutes. Melody heaved a big sigh. "You don't have to be sorry about that, Patrick. I'm quite flattered if you must know. It was just the other things were so shocking. I didn't expect that from you, you seem such a nice young man." "I wasn't thinking straight, Mrs Parker. I ... I think I love you," I blurted. Melody laughed at that. Then she gave me a contrite look and said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed like that, but I don't think what you're feeling is love." Melody sat upright on the sofa, one hand on her knee while the other rested on her thigh. She looked at me, head tilted slightly. "What you feel is hot-blooded lust, Patrick. That's all. You just want to fuck me." She had that right. That's exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to push her into the sofa and lift her legs so I could haul her underwear to one side. Then, after slurping at her pussy until she pissed juice, I'd stab my cock into her cunt and fuck her. "Don't look so shocked, Patrick," Melody grinned. "I use the word from time to time. In fact I've even done it a few times as well." She looked at me, teasing me with her eyes as she breathed, "I've let men fuck me in the past, Patrick. And as I recall, I sometimes enjoyed it." "Mrs Parker," I groaned. "Please, don't ..." Melody fixed me with a challenging stare. "You want to see my tits, don't you?" I didn't reply, I couldn't respond. "You can see them if you want." The woman shrugged. "After all, they're only breasts; about fifty percent of the population have them." I gulped, swallowing heavily and staring at Melody as she shifted slightly, the skirt falling away to expose her leg all the way to the top of her thigh as she began to lift the white blouse. "Come on, Patrick, don't you tell me you don't want to see my breasts. You did want to look at my tits, didn't you? Isn't that why you broke into my home, to satisfy some carnal urge?" Melody swivelled to face me square on. Her skirt lifted as she opened her legs and flashed her underwear at me while, at the same time, she lifted the blouse above her head and I saw her big jugs squeezed together in her black bra. "Oh my God," I sighed. Melody sat there and watched my reaction. She smiled and eased one strap of her bra over her shoulder. I swallowed heavily, my eyes on her body as the woman, with agonising, tantalising slowness, eased the other strap down and then cupped her boobs, still hidden inside the cups of the black bra, with her hands. She teased me with her eyes, her blonde hair feathered around her face, Melody's cheeks pronounced as she offered a sly smirk. Melody stayed in that position for several seconds before she spoke. All I could do was boggle at her as my cock, of its own volition, thickened in my jeans. I felt a catch in my throat and a gnawing hunger deep in my core. Every instinct screamed at me to lunge at the woman. The primordial urge to take her rushed scalding through my veins, and it was only the fear of getting myself into even more trouble with the law that kept me in my chair. "I know what young men are like, Patrick," Melody murmured, her voice so low I could barely make out what she said. "I've always had a certain ... something that men see and that turns them on. You're not the first sexy young bloke to fancy me," she revealed. Then, giving a little laugh she added, "And it hasn't just been young men; I've had a few randy old goats at me over the years." "Mrs Parker ..." I managed to groan. "Why are you doing this? You don't have to do this to me. Just call the police and have them arrest me." I gulped, torn with desire for Melody Parker. I didn't understand why she was tormenting me this way. OK, I'd done wrong by invading her privacy as I had, but I'd owned up to my crime and was even willing to pay the penalty -- she didn't have to flaunt her tits at me like that. As much as I'd wanted to see them, I didn't think it was right or kind of her to torture me that way. "But I thought this was what you wanted, Patrick. Don't you want to see my boobs?" Melody grinned and let the cups of her bra slide down to reveal her breasts. She held the globes in her fingers, with her thumbs curved along the flanks of her boobs while I stared at Melody's tight nipples and tanned areola. When I saw Melody's tits bared for the first time I wondered, somewhere at the back of my mind because most of my attention was focussed on making sense of just what my eyes were actually seeing, how the woman had managed to get such an even tan all over her body. I'd seen her sunbathing in her bikini, but where had she been with her breasts completely uncovered? I'm not sure but I think I might have whined a little as I imagined being on some beach holiday with Melody Parker. The thought of lying next to her all day as we sunbathed before going back to our air-conditioned hotel for drinks and rampant sex made me squirm in my chair. Graham Parker's Mother "You're so fucking sexy, Mrs Parker," I gasped. Melody removed the bra and carelessly flung it away across the room. "Thank you, Patrick," she said in a bright voice. "I feel sexy when you say that. I like it. But how about if I just slide my skirt off and squeeze my boobs together like this? Is that sexy too? Does that get you all excited and hot?" I gulped and nodded when Melody sat upright and lifted her buttocks from the sofa. Her skirt fell to her ankles, pooled around her pink shoes as she placed her hands on her inner thighs and pressed the tops of her arms against the flanks of her boobs. "Oh fuck," I swore when I stared open-mouthed at the big twin headlights of Melody's tits, their areola dark and puckered. Melody smiled brightly at me, the jewel in the crease of her navel glinting as the sun shone in through the big double doors that led out onto the terrace. "Is this what all the fuss was about, Patrick?" Melody said, eyeing the front of her own body. "Me, naked -- is that what you wanted to see?" "Shit, Mrs Parker, yes, that's what it was all about. I saw you sunbathing and I really, really fancied you. I thought you were so sexy and I wondered what ... I wondered what it would be like to ... to ... you know ..." "Fuck? Is that the word you're looking for? You wondered what it would be like to fuck me." "Yes, Mrs Parker," I groaned. "But I'm your friend's mother. Do you think it's right that you've got the hots for your friend's mum?" "I don't know," I wailed. "You're the sexiest woman I know, Mrs Parker. Seeing you makes me crazy. Seeing you like this ..." I gestured at her with a flick of my hand in her direction. "Your boobs are ..." My sentence tapered off as I shook my head and sighed, eyes fixed on Melody's jugs. The woman rose to her feet and walked over the rug towards the door. "Well what about now?" She asked as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pulled at the elastic. Melody cocked her head towards her shoulder and bent one knee slightly and paused with her underwear just covering her pussy. I could see the pale outline of her bikini briefs contrasted against the fading sun tan and I stopped breathing in anticipation of the woman exposing her vulva to me. The underwear fell down Melody's legs, past her knees and to her ankles. I gasped when I saw the minute tuft of all that remained of the woman's pubic bush. "Oh my God ..." I breathed, awe-struck at seeing Melody Parker naked. "You like it?" Melody asked. "Seeing me like this, you like it, Patrick?" "Jesus, Mrs Parker," I groaned. "I've never seen anything like you before. You drive me nuts. Look at you ... I mean, you're naked!" "Not quite," the woman replied with a grin. She lifted one foot. "I've still got my shoes on." Then she turned serious, looking at me with a grave expression. "You'd better sort yourself out then," Melody said. "What?" I blurted, her meaning unclear to me. "I said you'd better sort yourself out." She looked at me like I was an idiot -- which wasn't too far off the mark given my recent conduct. "You know ..." Melody jerked a fist, miming a wanking motion. My mind almost unhinged at that moment. Reality stretched like elastic. "You mean here? Now? In front of you?" Melody shrugged and nodded. "You're going to be a danger to shipping in the state you're in, Patrick. Don't you want to play with your cock? I don't mind. I'll watch you." Considering how horny I was, how hot Melody Parker's impromptu striptease had made me, I still balked at her suggestion. Part of me suspected a trap of some kind in revenge for my transgressions, but I was also suddenly reticent to expose my penis to this woman. "I don't know," I began. "I've never done it with somebody watching before." "Do it, Patrick. You'll soon forget about me being here. Just take your cock out and give it a little tug. Go on, it'll be sexy." She smiled at me and breathed, "And I'd like to watch. It ... it would be a turn on to watch you wank." "But you just said it isn't right. You're my friend's mother." Melody shook her head. "I didn't say that, Patrick; I asked if you thought it was right to have the hots for your friend's mother. I quite like the idea of you getting all hot and bothered over me. It makes me feel good to know that I can still turn a young bloke on." Melody turned and opened the door. "You get your clothes off," she called over a shoulder as she walked out of the room and I watched her buttocks jiggle. "I'll be back in a sec. "You start while I'm not here and by the time I get back you'll be well on your way." Flabbergasted I sat there for a few seconds. Had all of that just occurred? Had Graham Parker's mother said and done all those things? I looked across at where her bra lay discarded and then at Melody's skirt in a crumbled heap on the rug. Her knickers were in the corner by the door. I heard footsteps overhead on the floor above and remembered Melody's pink shoes. "Fucking hell," I breathed. I kicked off my training shoes and yanked my socks off. Hurriedly I hauled myself out of the chair and pulled down my jeans and underwear. Finally, after peeling my tee-shirt over my head I regained my seat, the leather squeaking under my bare arse and feeling cold on my back. With my cock in my fingers I began to stroke my length, my guts swirling with anticipation as I awaited Melody's return. "You didn't waste any time, the blonde grinned when she swanned back into the room. "Look at you all hard." Melody looked at my dick for a few seconds before she walked over to the settee and sat down. "Look what I've got," she purred, holding up the vibrator I'd found stashed in her bedside cabinet. "I thought you could watch me while I watched you." Melody eyed me with a seductive pout of her lips as she nestled the dildo between her generous tits and cradled the jugs with her arms. One nipple peeped at me as I jacked my cock and groaned. Melody grinned and said, "You're a naughty boy. Just look at you." Then her tone curdled and her voice came heavy and thick as she added, "Does that feel good, Patrick? Hmm? Does it feel good to wank like that while you look at me?" "Mrs Parker," I moaned, with my jaw slack as I stared at the woman sitting across the room. "Can I touch you? Can I feel your tits?" Melody pulled a face and nodded. "I suppose so." She stood up and, leaving the vibrator on the sofa, walked to me. She leaned over me as I sat in the chair with my fist working at my cock. "Just a feel," she murmured. "Oh fuck," I groaned as I held one of Melody's breasts in my hand. "So heavy and soft ... yet spongy at the same time. Oh, fuck, Mrs Parker, you're amazing." Melody's head tilted back and she laughed. "Feel the other one and then you can sort yourself out." I complied, my fingers caressing Melody's boobs. "That's naughty," the blonde chuckled, pulling away from me when I rose up to suck one nipple. She wagged an admonishing forefinger at me. "No more of that, young man." "Please, Mrs Parker," I whined while I watched her buttocks jiggle away. "Can't I touch you some more?" "No. Hurry up and sort that out." She pointed at my cock. "This might help you along." Melody sucked at the tip of the vibrator and then massaged one breast while she rubbed the slippery tip of the false penis over a nipple. She gave me a seductive look, almost vulpine as she held my stare with her eyes. Then, when Melody reclined and lifted one leg to the settee, spreading her thighs so one shoe remained on the rug, she exposed her pussy to my hungry stare. Melody's labia hung in meaty folds, the scarlet of her insides bubbling and glistening. The woman used the vibrator on her mouth for a few strokes, pretending to suck a cock before she nudged the head at herself and slid it inside. "Oh shit, Mrs Parker," I gasped at the sight of the woman lying there so provocatively as she pushed the instrument right inside her body. "I wish that was me doing that. I wish that was my cock." Melody smirked and opened her legs wider. "Look at it," she sighed, a hand mauling at her breast. "Right in there, isn't it?" Look at me, Patrick. Is this what you hoped to see?" "It's the best, Mrs Parker." I swallowed and winced, grunting as the surge threatened. "I've never done anything like this before ... I've never even seen real boobs before." Melody slid the vibrator out of her body. "What," she began, "you're telling me that you've never ...?" She sat up, her breasts swaying with the movement. "You've had a girlfriend before though, yes?" "Well, yes," I replied, my hand slowing against my shaft. "But I've never ... you know ... actually done it." The woman dropped the vibrator onto the seat next to her. Then she sat upright and, with her hands on her thighs and her arms squeezing the rounded flanks of her big jugs, Melody smiled. Then, before I realised she'd moved, Melody was on her feet and standing in front of me. "You're a virgin?" she asked, eyes narrowed. I gulped and nodded. "Yes." Melody knelt in front of me and thrust out her boobs. "In that case, Patrick, you can touch them. Go on," she urged when I just sat there gawping. Melody shook her torso so her breasts jiggled and swung. "You can touch my boobs. Feel them." I sighed and rolled my eyes at the invitation, and after about thirty seconds of squeezing and massaging and generally mauling at Melody's breasts, she then brought a gasp from me by wrapping her jugs around my cock. "A little titty-wank for you, Patrick," melody smirked, her palms compressing her big tits around my cock. She began to milk me with her breasts, her eyes down as she watched my dick slide through her deep cleavage. "I want to kiss you, Mrs Parker," I moaned, reckless with lust while the woman knelt in front of me and squeezed my cock with her tit-flesh. "Come on then," Melody responded, her hand replacing her breasts around my erection. "Let's get you finished off." Her hand jacked at me as she rose up onto her knees and pressed her mouth to mine. Our lips touched and then I felt Melody's tongue slide into my mouth. The dam burst for me then and I gasped and sighed and ran my hands down over melody's back, our tongues rolling while she yanked and tugged at me. The stuff burst out of me, spraying both of us with jizm, heavy drops of spunk that spattered across Melody's skin. She gave a sharp cry and pulled her face away from mine, but kept up her jerking motion with her fist, milking the semen out of me in a heavy shower that rained down onto her forearm, my stomach and chest, and across one arm of the chair. Melody's hand slowed, spunk oozing over the web of skin between her forefinger and thumb. She reached for a box of tissues that was on the floor next to the chair. "You mucky bugger," Melody chuckled as she plucked tissues from the box. "Here," she offered. "Clean yourself up." I dabbed at the stuff I'd pumped over myself when I came. "That was incredible, Mrs Parker," I babbled. "I've never done anything like that before. Thank you, thank you so much." Melody stood up, still wiping globules and smears of ejaculate from her skin. "Well, you seemed so hot and bothered, Patrick. Especially after I started to tease you." Melody looked a little shame-faced. "I didn't mean to go so far, but I was so angry that you snuck in here and went through my things. I think I wanted to teach you a lesson but it got a little mad there for a minute." Her reference to my crime brought back the fear I'd felt earlier. "Now what, Mrs Parker? What about the police and what I've done." "I don't think there's much point in calling the police. I can sort of understand why you did it, Patrick. People do some pretty crazy things when they're all wound up. Anyway," she added with a bright smile, 'you don't need to skulk around anymore. You've seen all of me. You've touched me ..." Melody indicated her glistening chest and breasts with her fingers. "You've come all over me as well ... I don't think there's much more you can do." She tilted her head and eyed me with an odd expression, one that for some inexplicable reason made my shrivelling cock begin to pulse, the shrinking reversing as my erection bloomed anew. There was something indefinable in Melody's eyes as she took a step backwards and held out a hand. "Although I suppose you could always lick my pussy before you fuck me." And the woman led me by the hand upstairs to her bed, where she let me get my fill of her generous body. I lost my virginity to Graham Parker's mother, rolling with her in her bed as her insides milked me of my second climax after she'd told me how to get her there with my tongue and fingers. "You young blokes," Melody sighed when I went in for round three, my hands on her tits while she rode me. "You can fuck for hours." And then she stunned me by suggesting that I and a couple more of Graham's friends could give her a gang-bang. Which is food for thought.