Bobby lost his fourteen year old cherry to his best
friend's mom. Now Mrs. Acker introduces him to Beth, a
fifty-something webmistress of Maturesluts. com.

Bobby and the Webmistress, Parts 1 and 2

By Cinque Manson

I was hiding in my room, nursing a pair of the bluest
balls a fourteen year old boy could have, when I hear
my mother'svoice call from the kitchen.

"Phone, Bobby!"

It had been a busy month after I had lost my virginity
to my best friend's mom, Alice Acker, and his
girlfriend Linda. I guess technically she was my
girlfriend, too, or something like it. We had spent
the long torpid summer days since our first afternoon
sex party at Mrs. Acker's house driving each other
into an erotic frenzy. After some sessions of
old-fashoined fucking and sucking, Linda found she
preffered dominating me, and set about toying with me
more and more. She tied me to a bed in one of the
dingy empty rooms of the Ace Motel and made me make
her cum over and over, sometimes with my tongue,
sometimes with my boydick. The damnedest part was
this, the more I made her cum, the less inclined Linda
was to allow me release in return.

Hence my blue balls. It had been a week since I'd last
climaxed, and althought that may not sound like great
shakes, to a teenaged boy who'd been teased, tickled
and spent the better of four hours the day before with
his head between a luscious teenaged girl's soft
thighs it was slow agony.

Linda had hovered over me, her shins resting on my
shoulders, the narrow tapered fingers of both hands
holding her pale nether lips apart exposing her pink
pussy flesh to me. She asked,
"Don't you want to lick me, Bobby?" She smiled down at
me. I bobbed my head upwards, trying to impale her on
my pointed tongue. She laughed and bobbed out of the
way. "You're going to have to work a lot harder than
that if you want me", she giggled. I sighed.

Mrs. Acker told Linda that the longer she made me wait
to cum, the better it would feel, especially if I were
teased long and hard in between. To tell you the
truth, this was hell, but it was a sweet ecstatic
hell. I was growing more and more in love with Linda,
my fourteen year old mistress. Making her quiver in
rolling orgasms became my release, her pleasure my
pleasure.

Mrs. Acker told her that she should control when I was
allowed to cum, and Linda passed along this
information with strict instructions. Not only was I
not allowed to cum during our sex sessions unless she
gave permission, but I wasn't allowed to beat off or
otherwise cause myself to cum at home. The result of
this was that my sperm must have backed up all the way
from my tight boyslut nuts to my brain, because all I
could think about was Linda's slippery body using me
for a sex toy.

So this was my state of mind, a slackjawed reverie,
when I was called to the phone that early afternoon. I
expected it to be Linda, of course, summoning me to
the Ace Motel for more duty fucking. Instead, it was
the musical voice of my best friend's mom, Alice
Acker.

"Hello Bobby, how's it hangin'?"

"I'm ok, I guess. How are you, Mrs. Acker?"

"Pretty formal, slutboy, is your mother hanging
around?"

"Yeah," my mother was standing at the kitchen sink
washing dishes as I sat at the dinette table muttering
monosyllables into the phone. I could sense she was
listening to every word.

"I'll tell you the reason I called. You're pretty good
with computers and electronic gizmos, aren't you?"

Me and every other teen aged boy for fifty miles
around.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I have a friend who's having some problems installing
some software. Do you think you could help her out?"

"What kind of software?"

"I don't know, I'm no good at that stuff. Why don't I
run by and pick you up and take you over to her
house." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ok, sure. I was planning on getting together with
Linda a little later, I should call her and see if
this is OK."

"Good boy. But I've already spoken to her, Bobby, you
can have the day off..."

I blushed at the realization that Linda probably gave
Mrs. Acker detailed accounts of our exploratory
interludes. As exciting as my relationship with Linda
had become, it still felt dirty and shameful outside
the heavily draped windows of the Ace Motel.

"Ok," I gulped.

Mrs. Acker drove up our driveway in her brand new VW
bug, and my mother bade me goodby with an admonishment
not to stay out too late. I climbed into my best
friend's mom's car and after a short greeting she
shifted into reverse and we were off. We drove up from
the flatlands, past the suburbs where she lived, and
turned on a narrow road that snaked up between the
foothills.

"We're going to my friend Beth's house up in the
Canyon."

We pulled up a winding drive and rokked a hundred
yards to what looked like a treehouse, so lush as the
foliage that surrounded it. Although it was noon, and
the sun beat down on us, the tree branches rustled
softly catching a slight breeze, and the air smelled
fresh and cool.

"Is that you, Alice," a voice called out.

""Yes, Beth, I brought Bobby, the boy I told you
about, to help you with your computer."

I unwound my body out of the car. Alice took my hand
and walked me across a small wooden bridge fording a
tiny winding stream, and we were greeted by a woman
about my height, a platinum blond with a short shag.
She was wearing a black loose thin cotton sleeveless A
line dress. I had no idea how old she could be, I was
too young to judge these things with any accuracy but
she looked older than Mrs. Acker, who I knew to be
forty. Her face was unlined but for a few laugh lines
around eyes artfully lined in black. She extended her
well manicured hand.

"Hi Bobby, I'm Beth," she said in a gravelly type pf
voice my mother said was caused by too much whiskey
and cigarettes. She smiled at me and I couldn't help
but smile back. She was like a sexy grandma. I could
smell her shampoo. "Let's go inside and I'll show you
my camera..."

I furrowed my brow, "I don't know much about cameras,
ma'am..."

We walked through the floor to ceiling sliding glass
door into her white shag carpetted living room. There
was a white leather couch against one wall, if you
could call a floor to ceiing window a wall. There was
a matching white leather chair in the center of the
room. On this chair was a small camera sitting next to
its shipping container, an instruction booklet to its
side. One the floor in front of the chair was an
expensive and powerful laptop computer, I knew from
studying the catalogs that it was top of the line.
There was a conventional camera, an old Olympus,
sitting atop a tripod over in the corner, relegated to
retirement already, and perhaps prematurely.

"I've tried a dozen times to make it work, and spoke
to the so-called customer service people three times
today. It's driving me crazy!"

"I'll take a look at it..." I sat indian style on the
lush carpet, grabbed the camera and the instruction
booklet, put the slim chrome computer on my lap, and
went to work.

Mrs. Acker linked arms with Beth, and told me they
would be upstairs while I worked. I nodded in their
direction with abstracted interest, I was busy being
useful and intrigued by the puzzle. I reinstalled the
camera software disk, made sure all the connections
worked, fiddled and diddled, but nothing worked. I
rebooted the streamlined laptop, and went into the
setup mode. I knew some tricks with IRQ addresses from
endless hours of hotrodding old and out of date
computer boxes to accept more up to date peripherals,
and my tinkering was rewarded when the software loaded
successfully. A box popped up that read, "Would you
like to create an album now?" I clicked yes, and the
program searched for a directory with jpegs in it, and
rapidly went to work turning them into thumbnails. It
was done in a flash, and the album opened up. I
gasped.

The thumbnails were a series of Beth sitting in the
white leather chair, nude, her legs splayed. I clicked
on one of the thumbnails at random, and it opened a
photo, fullscreen, of Beth's milky thights and
intensely pink pussy lips. Her hands pressed either
side of her shaved sex, making her clit pout and
protrude toward the camera. I blinked. Her clit seemed
awfully large, but I was hardly an expert. It was like
a little penis. My own little penis stirred ominously
in my cutoffs. I cllosed the picture and clicked open
another. I was breathing rapidly, hipnotized by the
crude displays of my hostesses body on the laptop
screen. My left hand meandered beneath the laptop,
cupping what was now a raging erection.

"I should have known if we left you alone you'd head
straight for the smut." Mrs. Acker stood behind me. I
looked over my shoulder and into her eyes, stricken.

She ignored my puppydog act and peered down at the
picture on the laptop screen. "Are these all done with
the tripod?"

Beth strolled in and sat to my right on the couch.
Crossing her legs demurely at the ankles she replied,
"Yup. I just set it up and hope for the best. It's not
easy being a one-woman show..."

"Why do you take pictures of yourself?" I asked,
inwardly asking why she took pictures of her pussy and
clit.

"I have a website, Bobby. "Matureslut.com, a 50+ Babe"
It's my little cottage industry." She giggled cutely.

Mrs. Acker explained, "Men pay money to stare at
pictures of Beth on their computers, and then I
imagine they play with their peters like you're
doing."

Busted again. I moved my guilty left hand from beneath
the laptop.

Mrs. Acker turned and walked over to the couch and sat
next to Beth. "Why don't you use a photographer, it
would be a lot easier on you and you'd get better
angles."

"My customers don't seem to care one way or the other
and I need to keep my overhead down." Beth said,
twirling a platinum lock. She looked at me, "Did you
get the camera to work or were you too busy window
shopping?"

"Um, I think it works." I picked up the camera, turned
on the power switch, and the screen of laptop showed a
vertigo inducing upside down image of the living room
that lurched as I moved the camera upright. I put the
camera up to my eye, peered through the viewfinder,
and focussed on Mrs. Acker. I found a button on top
that controlled the zoom, and brought the focus on my
mature mistress' pixie face. I pushed the shutter, and
the flash caught Mrs. Acker unawares, and she adopted
the classic "No Comment" pose of popparazzi victims
worldwide, her hand in front of her face, fingers
splayed. "Hey, watch that thing!"

"Bobby's a pretty good photographer," Beth noted,
leaning forward to look at the image I'd just shot
appear on the computer screen. It wasn't bad, I'd
caught Mrs. Acker's twinkling smile in a flattering
angle. My best friend's mom squinted myopically at the
picture.

"Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you have Bobby take
some pictures of you for the website?"

Beth looked at me, raising an eyebrow."That could be
hot... Ok."

Nobody asked me anything, but it was unnecessary. I
was about to shoot porno pictures of a strange mature
goddess I'd just met. My weiner pulsed in my tight
white jockey shorts.

"No need to use lights, the autoflash in the camera
looks great. I'll be right back..." Beth jumped off
the couch and trotted upstairs. Mrs. Acker smiled down
at me. "You're one lucky little slutboy, you know
that?"

"Yes, ma'am." I stammered enthusiastically.

"Stand up for a minute."

I put the digital equipment carefully on the chair and
stood, my teencock a lump in my shorts. Mrs. Acker
beckoned me closer with a crooked finger, and I
approached. She pressed her warm cupped palm against
my bulge, smiled up at me and said, "I think Beth is
going to like this." She unzipped and unbuttoned and
unpantsed me in three precise movements. "Take your
shirt off, Bobby," she instructed, and then she had me
kick off my sneakers and socks. She left me in my
jockey shorts and adjusted my now semi-hard penis so
it lay to one side.

Beth strode in the room, wearing the same outfit. I'd
expected her to change, or something. She carried a
red nylon gym bag to the couch, and dropped it next to
Mrs. Acker. "Toys," she said simply. Mrs. Acked
placed her hands on my hips, spun me round, and gave
me a smart slap on the ass, "Ok, Bobby, go grab the
camera."

I knelt on the carpet, picked up the camera, and
looked up at Beth. She sat rather demurely in the
white leather chair, about ten feet away, her forearms
resting on the arms of the chair and her legs
together, crossed at the ankles. I looked throught the
viewfinder, and adjusted the zoom for a shot that
captured her whole body from the tips of her toes,
encased in white open-toed sandals, to the top of her
white-blond hair. She smiled.

CLICK!

I zoomed in on her face. She had beautiful skin for an
old lady, I thought. Some laugh lines and shallow
furrows around her full lips were the only hint that
she was old enough to be my granny. Her wide fjord
blue eyes twinkled at me and she stuck the tip of her
plum pink tongue between her lips. I pressed the
shutter release. Nothing.

"What happened?" I looked down at the brand new
camera.

"Oh, these digital cameras. You have to wait a bit
between shots. It's a pain." Beth spoke as sat still,
holding her pose. "I think a green light will go on
when it's ready."

Almost as soon as she said it, a green light went on
in the upper left hand corner. I raised the camera and
again framed her face.

CLICK!

Beth turned, offering me a three quarter profile,
knees still together. She arched her back, forcing her
chest forward. She had an impressive bosom in this
pose.

CLICK!

My middle-aged model leaned forward, pressing her
elbows in, exposing a deep valley of decolletage over
her dress. Her tits looked huge.

CLICK!

She wanted several of this pose, and we waited
patiently for the camera to catch up.

Then Beth crossed her legs at the knee, and reached
down to unclasp the strap of her open-toed sandal. She
affected a look of studied appraisel, her eyebrows
raised as she seemed to inspect her ankle.

CLICK!

"Go in for some close ups, Bobby. Those porno perverts
love Beth's feet." Mrs. Acker advised from behind me.

I knee-walked closer. I readjusted the focus. Beth had
her sandal half off, and I centered the frame on her
arch. She splayed her toes, her nails painted a
delicate translucent pink-tinged white. I'd never
given a woman's feet much thought, but as I stared at
Beth's toes wiggling full frame in the viewfinder, I
felt my pulse quicken, and my teen dick, which had
softened considerably while I took the glamour shots,
start to lay heavy in my boyish Jockey underpants.

CLICK!

"Your feet are beautiful, Beth." I said quietly. The
older woman straightened the leg she had crossed and
let the sandal dangle a few inches from the camera
lens. I had to lean back to get the image in focus. I
could smell her feet, a faint sweaty tang, and my dick
gave a buck.

"Hey, Beth", Mrs. Acker observed, "I think Bobby's got
a thing for your feet too..."

Bobby and the Webmistress Part 2

Beth smiled down at me, let her sandal drop, and used
her foot to tousle my hair.

"That's cute," she said.

She brought her foot down my face, rubbing the ball
over my brow, followed by her toes, and then lightly
drummed her straight line of toes over my closed lips.
She used her big toe to rub my lower lip, and when I
relaxed a bit, she inched the toe into my mouth. I
tentatively moved my tongue over the tart invader, and
she slowly flexed it in and out of my mouth. It was a
little sour from the hot summer's day in her sandle,
but it tasted like ambrosia to me.

`Suck it, Bobby, " murmmured Mrs.Acker.

I did, gently at first, and as I discovered how
exciting it felt, with more urgency. I laved and
circled my tongue around her toe, and when she slipped
it out, I followed and licked the valley between her
big toe and her second perfectly formed toe. I
pretended this cleft was her pussy, and my eyes rolled
back in my head as I sucked and licked. Beth slipped
her other foot out of its sandal and brought it up
next to the one I was slathering and lapping. She
rubbed both of her feet on my face, pulling my skin
taut, as I leaned back on my hands, the camera
forgotten on the carpet next to me. She moved the foot
I wasn't attending down with my mouth, down to my
chest and tweaked my right nipple roughly between her
toes, and I groaned. I felt no better than a dog,
slavering over this middle-aged strangers feet. I
snorted to breath. I felt enslaved to her.

"Jesus, look at his cock!" Alice slid off the couch
and crouched next to me.

I stole a look myself, without stopping my oral
ministrations to Beth's heel and ankle. My dick was
visibly throbbing, growing with each beating pulse of
my heart. It tented my underpants, and a dark wet spot
was spreading from its tip.

Beth was slouched in the white leather chair, and she
let her feet fall to my lap, to momentarily graze my
fourteen year old hardon, and then to hook the elastic
of my underpants and pull them down. The purple head
of my prick peeked over the waistband. A big drop of
precum sat in the ovoid slit of my peehole. Beth drew
her honey colored silky soft legs back, bending her
knees until her heels rested on the seat of the white
leather chair. She spread her knees with her hands. I
looked up at her, her dress bunched at her hips. Beth
carressed her knees down to her thighs, and my eyes
followed. She wore very sheer black nylon panties,
which hid nothing. I sucked a breath in. She smiled
seductively and slid forward a bit to give me a better
view.

She whispered, "The camera, Bobby. Take my picture
now," rough and low.

I blindly searched with my right hand for the camera,
and grasped it shakely to my eye. The viewfinder
brought everything into sharp detail. Beth's tight
black panties clung to her pubic mound, her fingers
stretching the thin fabric taut, digging into the soft
crepe-like flesh between her thighs. Through the
viewfinder I could see right through the black nylon
mesh, I could make out each tiny little square framing
honey and rose colored skin. Beth's pussy lips pressed
against panties, spread open, spreading a glistening
sheen of sex liquor on the nylon.

CLICK!

Beth pressed on either side of her sex with her
fingers laid flat, and I watched as the pressure cause
the head of her clitoris to pop out of its hood, a shy
plump little mollusk. She massaged herself in a slow
rhythm, and the bulb extended to a nub, and then grew
more. She soaked her black nylon panties with the
lubricants seeping out of her cunt, and squirmed a
little as she excited herself.

CLICK!

I felt Mrs. Acker move behind me, and while I waited
for the digital camera to process or recharge, or
whatever it did, she tugged my underpants down my slim
hips. I shifted so she could get them off my legs. I
knelt on my knees a foot away from Beth's crotch and
aimed with the camera. My dick pointed straight up
like a malevolent missile.

The fifty year old slut had hooked a finger in the
leghole of her sheer panties, pulling them aside to
bare her vagina. Her pussy was gorgeous, the
translucent color of an abalone shell, trimmed of hair
except for the areas above her pubic bone, where a
light spray of dark blond hair glistened with drops of
her copious juices. Her nether lips hung somewhat
ragged in a frame around her pussy, which gaped ope, a
black hole that appeared endless as infinity. Her clit
dangled down, and as she let her digits play next to
it, it stretched with her movements. It was
remarkable, three quarters of an inch and as big
around as the tip of my pinky finger.

CLICK!

I lowered the camera while I waited, and Beth lifted
her behind off the chair and lost her panties. She
rested back in a slouch, and put her feet on either
side of my head, resting on my shoulders, knees wide
open. I become overwhelmed by her scent, the perfume
of aroused mature woman, a mixture of perspiration, a
hint of expensive perfume released by body heat, and
sex, that indescribable miasma of pheronomes designed
to send males into rut. Beth was no longer posing, in
control. She masturbated inches from my face, her lips
curling, her eyes half-closed.

"You like my big nasty clitty, Bobby?"

"Yes, ma'am," I croaked.

"So polite," she replied with a sneer, "for a dirty
little slutboy."

She turned her ankles inward behind my head and by
flexing her knees brought my face into her sex. My
nose bumped into her trimmed patch of pubic hair, and
then I got my bearings, and slid my flattened tongue
down the skin of the hood that framed her obscene
engorged clit. I pressed my face between Beth's
thighs, and opened my mouth. I dipped my head, and
there it was. I ran my tongue over and around Beth's
hard long clitoris, and surrounded it with my lips. It
responded by becoming stiff and slick. I sucked on it,
causing Beth to grab my hair. The middle aged porno
model whipped her hips against my boymouth, fucking my
face, and soaking my chin as her loose sopping pussy
lips coated my chin.

I felt Mrs. Acker's hands delicately skimming my butt
cheeks, as if ten butterlies were playing tag there.
Her fingers danced down my crack, brushing my asshole
and tantalizing my young nutsack. I felt I would cum a
gallon milk jug's worth of boyseed if someone or
something touched my steely erection, but my forty
year old mistress ignored it. Mrs. Acker ran
contrentic circles around my butt with her soft hands
as I sucked Beth's ckit and began to drink in and
swallow her middle-aged pussy flow. I arched my back
to allow Mrs. Acker easier access to my hindquarters.
She drummed on my tight asshole with a fingertip, a
beat I could feel all the way up inside of me. I heard
her fiddling around, and then a pop as a bottle was
opened, and then I felt a thin stream of liquid
pouring down the valley between my butt cheeks. Beth
ground her sex against my mouth, raising her hips so I
could tongue fuck her with my fully extended tongue.
She humped in tighter and tighter circles, and I could
hear her breath exploding in short bursts.

"Ohhhhh fuck.... Yeah, baby boy, eat my nasty old
pussy..."

Mrs. Acker pressed a single digit against my ass
pucker, and I pushed back until I felt her fingertip
enter my anal ring. The lubricant she's poured on my
butt made it easy to slide her finger deep into me. I
moaned as I kept lapping and guzzling at Beth's
amazingly sopping wet cunt. My best friend's mom
slipped two fingers in my clenching asshole, spreading
me. My cock no longer felt like a piece of steel
strapped between my legs, it became heavier somehow,
different than it had ever felt before, and I loved
the feeling.

Beth slammed her crotch against my face,
simultaneously pulling my hair and banging my head
straight into her pussy, bruising my nose on her pubic
bone.

"Oh shit, yes, yes, yes!" Each yes punctuated with a
thrust of my pointed tongue along the underside of her
distended supersized clit. On the last yes she sprayed
my face with a milky white quirt from her pussy, salty
and unfamiliar. She twitched and every muscle in her
tight fifty year old body stood out. One more spritz
of her cum juice hit me in the eye, and stung. She
released her grip on my blond surfer hairdo and pushed
me back off of her. I leaned back onto Mrs. Acker's
probing fingers.

Beth stretched and looked down at me with sparkling
eyes. She looked completely relaxed and happy, and I
felt completely worked up, antsy and alert.

"Jeeze, Alice, you better get a towel!" Beth giggled.
Mrs. Acker ignored her and kept at the delightful
torment of my rectum.

My dick was bobbing between my thighs, no longer
proudly pointing at the ceiling, but dipping heavily.
It looked scary and unfamiliar, purple all over, the
veins engorged and standing out from my shaft in thick
relief. The head of my cock bulged, shiney and as
tightly stretched as a bongo drum head. A steady
stream of clear precum oozed from my slit, falling in
a skinny continuous viscous stream to the carpet. Mrs.
Acker turned her hand so she could press forward
inside me, moving against a wall of flesh behind my
teenaged balls, which were swinging back and forth and
full and loose. When she did this, the flow of my sex
milk increased slightly, and became thicker.

Beth shimmied out of her dress, dressed only in a
black brassiere made of the same sheep transparent
fabric as her panties, and sprang over me. She quickly
returned to her white leather chair, holdiing a large
and intimidating imitation rubber cock, some eighteen
inches long. Curiously, it looked like two dicks
joined together at the end, with a hilt piece molded
dead center.

"Camera, Bobby," she reminded me.

I took a series of pictures of her rubbing the floppy
long dildo against her nipples. Beth had delicious tan
lines that set the white of her private parts in
glorious contrast with the even tan of the rest of
her. Her tits sagged a bit, with faint stretch marks,
but her nips stood stiff, erect and aroused as she
dripped a line of spittle to the spot where the dildo
head met the crinkled nipple tip through the mesh of
her bra. She cirlcled both breasts with the toy, then
moved it down past her navel. Click, click, click.
Beth once more used my shoulders as a foot rest as she
ran the diclo up and down between her cunt lips. My
fifty year old platinum blond porn goddess split
herself with the rubber penis, slowly inching it up
her wet tunnel. She used both hands to guide the
dildo farther and farther in, until the hit the
midpoint hilt. Beth eyes were closed, her shoulders
hunched, and she took her hands off the giant cock now
protruding between her thighs. She looked incongruous,
a fully feminine sexy older woman with a nine inch
cock waving lewdly from side to side. She reclined in
the white leather chair and struck various obscene
poses highlighting her penetration. Mrs. Acker
maintained a steady torment of my teenaged butthole,
palpating my prostrate with two fingers, milking a mix
of precum and semen from my fat veiny cock. I could
barely keep the camera still, but I managed to
mechanically focus and click, focus and click.

Beth let her body slink off the white leather chair so
she squatted on the carpet in front of me. She pushed
the chair back with her elbows, giving herself room.
She grabbed hold of the swinging doubleheaded dildo
embedded in her cunt with one hand and cupped my loose
sweaty ballsack with the other.

"That is sooo nasty, Alice. He's really making a
mess..." She encircled my dick with her long narrow
fingers. "Look at all that boy juice!" She frigged
herself with the dildo using short tight strokes, and
ran other hand up my flat stomach, lazily pinching and
twisting my nipples. I raised my hips and humped air
in rhythm to the persistent internal anal massage from
my best friend's mom. Beth looked in my eyes,
shuddered, and sucked in her breath as she came all
over the dildo. I wanted to cum too, desperately, but
I was too afraid to say a word for fear of breaking
the spell woven over me by the two middleaged women.

"Let me play with him a litte, Alice," Beth said to
Mrs. Acker with an evil smile. Mrs. Acker removed her
fingers from my ass, causing me to emit a short cry.
Beth used my disequilibrium to push me on my back, and
then she said, "Hold his feet," as she grabbed both of
my ankles and pushed them up and back toward my head.
Mrs. Acker grabbed them and held them tightly. I
wondered what Beth intended to do, but not for long.

Beth rested the knob of the dildo end on my tender
asshole, which throbbed from the massage Mrs. Acker
had ministered and then abruptly abandoned. The fifty
year old held a bottle of lube over the nine inch
length of exposed dingus and liberally rubbed the
stringy clear liquid up and down the scupted
simulacrum of masculinity. She rubbed the head of her
artificial penis against my puckered virginal asshole
and I groaned. I tightened my abs so I could rub
myself against the slick dildo head. Beth scootched
closer, and pushed with her hips. The dildo pressed
hard against my unwielding sphincter, and I
involuntarily cried out. It was too big, it would
never fit into me. It felt like it was tearing me
apart. Tears slid down my face to the carpet. I tried
to get away but Mrs. Acker leaned down as she held my
ankles in a vice like grip.

Beth took it up a notch, putting her entire weight
behind her effort to invade my ass. Mrs. Acker said,
"Relax Bobby, take it...", and as I let the breath I
was holding exhale in a long sigh I felt the enormous
head of the rubber cock slide through the ring of my
sphincter. "Ahhhhhh...." Beth sat on her heels stock
still as my ass adjusted to the intrusion. The she
pressed into me slowly, millimeter by millimeter,
filling me as I writhed under Mrs. Acker's grip.

Beth kept moving forward until the full nine inches of
my side of her cock lay buried in my dirt hole. The
hilt plate molded midpoint into the dildo smashed
against my testicles. Again Beth rested in silence. My
ass burned as if I'd been penetrated by a red hot
poker. But with each heartbeat the pain subsided a
bit, leaving an anxious sensation of being filled.
When Beth moved again it was to painstakingly remove
the giant cock from my ass as my anal ring tried
vainly to grip it's molded veins and replications of
real penile textures. The fullness I'd momentarily
experienced was replaced with emptiness and lust.
Halfway out of me, my mature tormentor leaned back in,
and I gasped, "Oh, yes!"

"Yes what, Bobby?" Mrs. Acker asked dreamily from
somewhere over me.

"Yes, yes, ma'am, please fuck me! Fuck my butt, ma'am.
Oh god, it feels so fucking good! Yes!" I lay with my
eyes shut tight as Beth screwed her nine-inch cock
back and forth, slowly but steadily, halfway in and
out of me. My boy dick lurched back into tumid
attention.

Beth fell back on her butt, and the phoney penis
nearly slipped all of the way out of me. She scooted
on her ass back toward me once again pinning me with
her dick's full length. Then she lay back, her head
resting in the deep white pile of her carpet, placing
her legs on either side of me. She reached her arms
down along her sides, and she said, "Give me your
hands, Bobby." We clasped hands, and then Beth pulled
me toward her with her muscular golden arms. I gasped.
When she relaxed she fell back a little and her cock
slipped back as well. Satisfied by this position, the
fifty year old began to fuck me, and herself, with the
double dildo in earnest. I was panting, prey to an
intensity of feelings I had never dreamed of, let
alone experienced. I tried to move with her, and we
struck a complimentary rhythm. I was fucking her now
too. We were fucking each other. I opened my eyes and
looked down my belly. I couldn't see the cock now
churning in and out of my ass, all I could see was my
dick, so bloated and thick it was unrecognizable to
me. It stood straight up from my groin, waving about
like an over inflated balloon.

Beth picked up her pace, slamming herself onto the
dildo that slammed into me. Every nerve inside my ass
was alive and danced as Beth lustily pumped me. I felt
a feeling like a blush begin behind my nuts, spreading
up, causing my cock to jerk and strain.It ran up my
clenched belly, up to my nipples which become hard
like little pellets. The blood rush went up my neck,
and I broke out into a feverish sweat as the blush
coursed up my face.

"Oh, yeah, Beth fuck the shit out of him! Make him
fucking shoot, baby, make him cum!" Mrs. Acker was
getting into it, watching our obscene tableau with her
nostrils flared, breathing shallowly from her mouth.

I swiveled my hips so Beth could drive the cock into
my ass, deeper, deeper at every thrust, I wanted to be
her fuck crazed butt slut. I never wanted her to stop,
and when she fell back too far and I felt like the
dildo might slip completely out of me, I desparately
pulled her back into me. I found a frenetic rhythmic
pace that caused me to go breathless, and kept it up.
The ring of muscles at the entrance of my rectum were
like a nether mouth, sucking the delicious pink rubber
cock hungrily inside me. Beth whined and shouted
through three or four rolling orgasms, as I ground
against her with the double trouble cock that joined
our sexes. I squeezed my sphincter tightly against the
dick and pushed faster and faster when the unthinkable
happened. My bulging hardon erupted, untouched,
shooting my boycum thickly into space. The rubber cock
was up me to the hilt and I never wanted it to leave
as I sprayed globs of semen in an arc that hit me and
then Beth with beads of the silvery cum. Over and over
I spasmed, and I yelled, completely possessed. My
cocked waved and spritzed, totally out of control,
draining the vesicles of my raw pink nuts in blast
after vein-popping blast.

"Oh yes, baby, give it up, shoot it baby..." Mrs.
Acker murmured as I began to come down off the peak of
my incredible orgasmic seizures. I slumped, exhausted,
to the carpet, and Beth humped roughly against and
into my passive ass. Another splooge of boyjuice
squirted from my still bloated plump dick. She
repeated this, five, six times, forcing the last bits
of sperm in my body out of me and onto my belly. I
looked down at myself. I looked like I'd been hosed
with jizz. My dick was red, vermillion and angry
looking, and my testicles ached as if they'd been
punched a couple of times.

Beth sat up without exiting me. She leaned forward and
scooped sticky cum fluid off my thigh and brought it
to her lips. She slurped it up and licked her fingers.

"There's nothing tastier than teenaged sperm," she
said, her clear blue eyes twinkling. She eased herself
off the dildo, leaving it up my tender and throbbing
butt. The she kneeled next to me and kissed my mouth,
transferring a dollop of my cum onto my tongue. Out
tongues entertwined and when she pulled her head back,
a string of my thick spume hung between our lips. She
dipped her pretty blond head and ran her tongue over
and over my belly, cleaning up my mess. Then she
brought it all up to my lips, and we kissed with
passion passing my sticky seed back and forth with our
tongues. Beth reached down as our mouths played and
teased, and gently pulled the dildo out of me. I
winced. I was sore as hell, but would have gladly done
it all over to feel the rush, the fullness, the insane
and utter depravity of our last fifteen minutes.

"You'd better get cleaned up before I take you home,"
said Mrs. Acker as she knelt beside us with a hot wet
towel she'd prepared while Beth, the fifty year old
porno webmistress and I traded cumkisses. Beth stood
up and left us alone while my best friends mom wiped
me down.

The End