Experience and youthful zesty zip, voyeur and double virgin sex education
"Are you sure everyone's asleep "queried Amy again as her tits were out of her bra cups, poised perfectly in the semi-dark as the petting got heavy with Murray on his lounge room sofa.
"Yeah, Babe, it's cool; relax; my mum never hears anything at night," said Murray as his hands took in her generous spongy cupcake titties with their firm, flexible nipples.
It was dark, but there was diffused light sneaking rays here and there. Shapes were defined by eyes adjusting to the night. Amy's sweet tits were clear enough. They were fulsome, fleshy and friendly; nothing shadowy about them.
"Mmm…mmm baby…yum," got in Murray between mouthfuls of the taut yet yielding nipple. He couldn't get enough of their fleshy sweetness— cherries and vanilla cream —scoop after generous scoop like a soft serve ice-cream machine that was on auto. It just kept supplying endless tasty morsels of creamier, smoother and the lightest whipped white delight possible — so softee, so creemee —so please cream me.
It was logical; her softness had his hardness erect.
He needed relief.
Amy needed action.
Murray released his cock through his zip; jeans are so goddamn tight with a serious throbbing hard-on.
"Oh, stud muffin …no…we agreed …only one of us naked at a time —you can't control this."
Amy started to tuck her breasts away quickly and hurriedly rolled down her sweater.
There was a creaking sound, and the pair was momentarily startled into silence.
They both listened—only the clock ticking at the bottom of the stairs.
The curve of some headlight beams through the blinds, and then it was directed away.
A cat meowing and a dog barking.
They lost all the surrounding sounds in their mutual intensity of touch.
"Amy…Amy… it's fine…keep your clothes on…but my cock needs relief, babes…pretty please."
Murray kissed her, drawing her mouth to his, his hand at the back of her head. It was a lush, soothing, enjoyable pash. He got on to her soft neck next. He was nibbling intensely as Amy started a hand job.
Murray's stepmother, Donna, was now sitting towards the bottom of the stairs in the shadows, unseen by the young couple.
Still, the shafts of light around and under the blinds and from their fish tank made everything clear.
Donna was watching Amy massage up her stepson's impressive rod.
She thought: He hadn't got that pecker from his dad —long absent from the scene of this household.
Her fingers were straying under her nightgown to her lonesome coochie —it was wrong —but it felt so good —she was watching Amy stroke.
She was doing a reasonable job for a young lass — Murray, not having had a skilled hand by the looks of it, was appreciating any cock attention —the oh-so-easily pleased young sexual explorers.
Murray started to ease Amy's head down, but then Amy hesitated, stopping stroking.
Donna stopped touching herself, intrigued by the uncertainty and slightly frustrated between her moistening thighs.
"Amy, please…you know I've always wanted you to do this…don't think about it…just do it…. please for me…you're driving me crazy …don't get me wrong, Babe…your hand is awesome… I really, really need your mouth over my cock…please, Babe," and he gently kissed her.
Ah, thought Donna, he knows how to get what he wants.
Amy hesitated, nearly getting distant, and then she pecked Murray on his cheek.
"Okay," unsurely from Amy, "I'll try, but are you clean?"
"Christ Babe, what do you mean?" a puzzled Murray, who showered regularly.
Doona knew the problem; the little eighteen-year-old minx had gone down before but got a crusty whiffy untasty one and wasn't up for it again.
Oh, the wasted opportunities created in the present by a sad, bad sexual experience.
Amy sighed and went for it —thinking: Christ, if was —
Murray's hard, youthful rod was instantly uncomfortable.
Amy's teeth were grating as she tried to get a rhythm going, she had her hand around his balls, but it was fucking uncomfortable.
She started to suck slower but loosely.
She tried to take it deeper as it softened a bit but just gagged, and Christ, she knew she was making a mess of it, and her heart was going out of the action, too.
A sloppy passionless head job — limp dick in her mouth.
Even Donna wasn't getting stimulated by the sight.
Oh, Christ, she thought, woeful inexperience.
Donna heard her son say, "It's all right, Babe… thanks for trying", but his voice held that note of a frustrated male ego.
Amy put her arm around him, Murray went for her nipple under her clothes, and Amy's hand wandered back to massaging his cock.
At least she could supply a hand job.
The stamina of youth, rock hard nineteen, give a cock attention; it comes back quicker than Lazarus.
Donna was impressed until Murray asked Amy to try again, to go down on him.
Amy was over the taste problem.
Murray was fleshy and salty but fine, but she had lost confidence.
She gave a few light fluffy sucks, and Murray was on the way down like a slowly leaking balloon.
"Oh, for Christ's sake —spit on it —lick his balls —get dirty with it, girly," this was from Donna on the stairs, who realised and then said, "Oh shit" more to herself than the shocked young couple.
Murray scrabbled for his underwear.
Amy was wiping her mouth and trying to be Miss Prim and Proper, like the college girl who had been caught but thought by fluttering and flashing her baby blues, they would innocently escape a tight situation.
"Jeez, mum …we haven't done anything," defensively from Murray —more concerned at being caught out —a youth's fear of their sexuality in their own home.
It hadn't registered yet what his mum had said —that she had been— watching them.
Amy processed it first.
Then Murray.
They looked at each other but still expected adult direction:
You know : I think it's time Amy went home or Murray, how could you …here on the lounge….in your own home…so irresponsible, — that kind of response was floating around still in young confused caught out minds.
The young, inexperienced couple got direction.
"Grip his shaft, sweetie, and get a steady rhythm; watch your teeth and suck like a lollypop you are really enjoying."
And Amy, under instructions, had Murray's lollipop so friggin hard because she was enjoying being told what to do.
It made her get wet between her legs.
Murray was just lost in male bliss. Amy was spitting, stroking, licking, and sucking like she knew exactly what he wanted.
"Dribble a big wad of spit over his knob…right now…darling…do as I say now," commanded Donna.
Amy followed orders, and her tongue instantly created a salivary, viscous, tacky, gooey, gummy, happy cock on her Murray.
Donna could tell when Murray had had enough.
He was closing in on load loss territory, which was not in mummy's plan yet.
Amy was in the zone and enjoying the dribbly, slobbery treat of hard wet cock. She was developing championship girly skills very quickly.
Ah, technique, guidance and practice, plus the willing engagement, the commitment to cock.
Amy was impressively committed now.
Donna upped the ante for Murray but without the pressure on his delicate, sensitive pecker head.
She instructed Amy with: "Lick his balls, sweetie and then under his balls…lick around your boy's arsehole."
Well, Amy would never have ventured this far south alone, but given the tuition and the coaching instruction, it was like she had to obey
Hell, she wanted to obey. This was all new and new in sex is great, better than great… it's…well… it's swell.
Amy was licking soft, lightly hairy balls and was lost to thoughts.
She was licking, enjoying the sensation, and listening to Murray's pleasurable groans.
"Orrgh, orrggh."
Moans of delight she had never given her boyfriend before.
Wow, his mum sure knew a lot about cock.
Amy wanted her guidance and modus operandi down pat to copy.
"Don't forget his arsehole, cutie, go for it now," said his watching mum.
Amy appreciated the leadership because she was getting stuck on each new sensation. She craved to savour it forever, but the moving on was unreal. It was captivating to give pleasure, and Murray was delirious and not in control as the male.
She was the creator of pleasure under tutelage —but who cared —she had Murray's balls and arse in double licking range and started alternating between them and lingering with tongue flicking on his stretched skin between.
Murray went, "Oh Fuck yes…there…stay there."
His girlfriend had his perineum in euphoric delight, the soft skin extended but oh so sensitive. She had found a new pleasure spot for him.
Donna was impressed; Amy was off on her own, creating her original pleasure sequence for Murray as the young woman's tongue greedily explored the indent of her man's arse.
"Honey, it's time for this, "said Donna.
Time for what thought Amy, who was cock, arse and whole girl in sex experience, occupied.
"Honey, it's time," Donna repeated gently but insistent.
Amy looked up; Donna had a lubed condom stretched and ready on her fingers.
"Oh, "said Amy," but I'm a virgin; I still am Mrs Lehman," apologetic and formal.
"Sweetie —I wondered, and I know that masturbating punk under you is too because if he were getting it, his sheets wouldn't be so stained on wash day."
She added, "Honey here…ease it over your finger…that's it…now ease it over Murray's…head…that's it…leave a gap at the top…his wad has to go somewhere honey…ah you're a natural sweetie…that's it, roll it down carefully…my isn't your man a firm thing…. okay sweetie …off with your panties."
Amy was excited and didn't even think about undressing and — being naked in front of Mrs Lehman.
She was energised for action —this was it —her and Murray —here and now.
Murray was holding his rigid wood and keeping the condom in place.
He watched Amy's bushy coochie approaching —she was going to sit on his cock —he didn't care how his cock got in Amy as long as it got in.
Amy was above him as Donna guided and eased her body onto Murray's prick.
Amy was so wet his fat sausage went in quickly —his mum eased her hips up and down —wow, that was it—it was in the movement.
It was stunningly good —it was awesome—it was perfect— Amy relished the stab and expand —over and over— as Donna eased her down —her clitty got little tingles against his pubic bone.
And as Donna leveraged her up —her pussy stretched and held Murray's cock tighter —delectable —horny, and incredible —at the same time.
"Oooh, ooh, ooh," she cooed as her virginity sailed somewhere!
Donna left Amy to her natural rhythm. Amy chose rapid, expressive young sex. She was hasty and intent on orgasm. The growing intensity nourished from her speedy, movement up and down.
Murray grabbed Amy's arse instinctively and propelled her jointly up and down —his cock was lost in femflesh —wrapped in the grove of human delight —enveloped in the tunnel of mutual frictional gratification.
Expressed as, " Arrghh, Arrghh, Arrghh!"
Donna was getting herself off quietly right next to the young couple.
Working her clit with one set of fingers and another set of digits, deeply stirring her moist mature motherly slit.
A hedonistic trinity.
A carnal threesome on the assembly line of climax.
A triumvirate of happiness exploding through individual bodies in instances of their lives.
Donna shamelessly felt the pleasure plateau popping through herself just before—
Amy went, "Oh God —Oh, me!"
And Murray was grunting with deep guttural primordial maleness as his wad fired out of his cock into Amy's tight warmness.
"Raah, ah, raah, ahh!"
Murray hit instant male relaxation.
Amy collapsed into his chest, still holding his cock in her.
Donna got them back to the necessary reality of young post-sex; "Hold the bottom of the condom, son….and get it out …now."
Well, so much for young post-coital lovely dovey virginal tender togetherness.
Fuck the practicalities of condoms — they pull bodies apart.
Amy and Murray confronted the slippery, full little plastic bag of gene-denied tadpoles.
Not sexy, really.
"Murray, bin it and bring back the ice cream from the fridge…go …go… now…sunshine."
Then added: "Son… take your jocks too."
Murray returned and then hiked it to the kitchen, slipping on his boxers.
Seeing his balls dangling between his legs —not his best angle— thought Amy and Donna — in one of those sync-womanly moments — when seeing balls from the wrong viewpoint.
The light in the kitchen cast a shard over Amy's glowing face.
"Sweetie …I'll get you to my doctor…get you on the pill…much more fun …get your panties on, honey…Murray's had enough excitement for the minute."
Three spoons, one large tub of ice cream, all dipping in, nothing strange about that—
A stepmother, her stepson and his girlfriend under sexual instruction in front of the mum —well, mothers know best.
Amy and Murray —the young — ravenousness for boy-girl girl-boy flesh, the insatiable creatures they were fast becoming —were up for more after they got their energy back—courtesy of the smooth, shared sweet ice cream.
Then it was off to bed —a double bed —and very deep into the wee hours, it was three in the bed, and for once, three was most definitely company and not a crowd.