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Volume IIt's difficult to tell these things when I'm by your side. But when you look at me with your intense green and supplicating eyes, it's honestly hard for me to resist myself.
The truth is, if I thought about what you said about Hannah, but that doesn't change a whit the fact that I still love you more than anyone else.
I've tried to understand this little thrill of yours that seduces women and women, when sincerely, these things would perfectly delight me with you and only with you, because you know that deep down, I only fixate on you.
And it's for that reason that I tie myself up when I have to write this to you, because how can I show you how much I love you if I have to talk about what I feel for other women?
That Saturday in September, we originally planned to take the train, like I did with my mother when I was young, to visit a rural town between the mountains and enjoy the parties there.
I wanted to recreate that tradition with you, because that beautiful town is a mix of contradictions: urbanity versus country life, technology versus simplicity, mountain versus man. Everything crossed by a river.
Even so, I don't regret it and I apologize for getting angry. As you told me, they seemed like scared little girls when we saw them, and while I was annoyed at having to attend to your rear guard and stay to watch the military parade with you, believe me, you're one of the few women I'd do it for.
In the evening, as you suggested, we went out with Liz to the fondas. But apart from some kisses and her getting a bit drunk, nothing else happened between us.
But what I want to tell you, Marisol, happened the next day.
I don't know what charm your mother exerts on me. I find her beautiful and not just because of her bust.
More than once, I've thought about how much I'd like it if you arrived at her age with her wisdom and temper, and every time I see you, I'm with you and feel you by my side, and in my heart, I feel that you'll become a woman like her.
While washing the dishes, after lunch, I was overcome with a sense of impotence for leaving. You can't describe it well, nightingale. But really, I regretted not having been with her alone and that's why I told her without beating around the bush.
Veronica, would you like to go to a motel with me? I asked her.
You were all worried about packing up the luggage and taking care of the little ones, and there was your mother, right next to me, for me to kiss and want her.
If you remember, she was wearing lightly provocative clothing that afternoon, but still decent: a black skirt, up to mid-thigh, tight enough and long enough to accentuate the beauty of her legs, the roundness of her backside. She also wore a cream-colored blouse that discreetly revealed her magnificent breasts and white bra, with a discreet neckline that showed the beginning of her breasts.
However, nightingale, what most impressed me about your mother that afternoon was her long, red hair, smoothly flowing like the most sublime cloak. Her fine lips, small nose, and those same eyes you have, bright and fearful, listening to such madness from her son-in-law, had an impressive charm on my husband.
Marco, what are you talking about? she asked with a nervous smile, thinking I was saying something crazy.
I'm talking about the fact that in this whole trip, I haven't had the opportunity to make love to you alone for hours, I said.
Your mother blushed when I said that and her green eyes took on a beautiful sparkle, combined with shame and desire.
But the girls... your things... she tried to excuse herself, avoiding my gaze.
I gave her a soft kiss, savoring her tender lips and feeling part of her citrusy saliva while kissing her.
They can take care of themselves... and I'm only asking for two hours, I replied.
I took her hand and as they were listening, I shouted I'm going out with your mom! when I was taking my wallet and documents. She was still confused and agitated. But... a motel? On Sunday?... Mark, what are we doing? I asked myself, almost dragging her to the curb, trying to make sense of things. I just want to be with you and it can't happen at home, I replied, walking towards the avenue. And it so happened that my mother was getting out of her car at that moment, imagining she was going to church with my grandmother. Mark! What's going on? Where are you going? she asked. Veronica and I were completely frozen, but my words flowed immediately. We're going shopping! I replied. She knew me well and sensed that I was nervous. It wasn't natural for me to take her mother away like that. Don't you want me to drive? she asked, as if starting to savor the truth. And I had to plant my feet firmly and decide to finally get out of my shell on this entire trip where I hadn't been able to do so. No, mom! You can't help me with this! I replied and we kept walking without looking back. I don't know if she guessed that at that moment I wanted to be with another woman who wasn't you and what's more, was your own mother. Little did it matter to me. I hailed a taxi and ordered the driver to take us to an open motel. No, Mark! This is wrong! my mom said, impatiently sliding her hand under her skirt. Veronica, don't you see how much I desire you? Yes, but... she managed to say, feeling my erection. And I went kissing her the whole way, lifting up her skirt and removing her pantyhose, while the vehicle was moving. No... we shouldn't... she resisted, half-lying on the seat, as I kissed her left breast. My skilled fingers slipped under her skirt and let out a loud groan. The driver tried to adjust the mirror in vain, trying to take in the action. But even those traveling in adjacent buses or cars couldn't see us. I was putting my fingers inside the juicy crack of your mother's thighs, which she was sighing and finally seeking my lips already without resisting, feeling my erection on her wonderful buttocks.
She continued to resist in her legs, to prevent the constant massage and stimulation of my fingers in her temple of pleasure. But at the same time, she was holding my hand firmly, rubbing her eager thighs because the invasion did not end.
I paid the driver with the same wet hand that had rubbed your mother, something that caused him shame, because he still believed that she is too old to be a woman so ardent.
Even when I presented myself at the reception, she was fixing her hair as if she ignored having accepted to go with me.
Once in the room alone, we left our frenzies free.
It was quite simple: a bed quite low, up to the height of our knees; thick white curtains that let enough light from outside to distinguish the outlines of things, a pair of lamps on the bedside tables and a lamp with a coffee screen that made the miserable little room look even more miserable than it was.
Feel like you're bringing me here! A woman like you deserves a real bed! I apologized, tearing off my pants desperate.
You don't have to apologize! I also wanted you! she replied, quickly unbuttoning her blouse.
Once again, I kissed her with fury. I wanted to be on top of her, like in those wonderful months where we made love at night, on the miserable bed that your father left me in the house north.
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Excuse me! I kept insisting, pumping into her with frenzy.
No... No... No problem!... ahh… ahhh… What tasty!... she groaned, whispering in my ear while embracing me tightly.
But at that moment, I wanted to see your mother, Marisol.
I didn't think about you, Liz or any of the others.
I sank into the bed to be able to contemplate her absolute exquisite: her light belly, with her wonderful stomach and navel, serpentining in desire while she was pounding me with force on the bed; her bouncing breasts, shaking in an incredible way and her chin firmly closed, with her eyes closed, holding firmly onto the headboard of the bed. I desired Marisol. Simply I desired her. Your mother is a exquisite woman. I wondered how she had accepted going with me to a place like that. But a thought suddenly invaded my head: Who guaranteed it was her first time? I lifted her seductive thighs, thinking about the numerous lovers who had deflowered her. She just limited herself to moaning more, while continuing to imagine the number of men she had cheated on your father with before me and at that moment, I was also one of them. Her vagina squeezed with impressive force, sucking in a barbaric way. I tried with all my might not to cum soon, but her mother's cries made it harder and harder for me. Eventually, I collapsed along with your mother into one of her orgasms and while I relieved myself inside her, her sweaty arms and satisfied voice received me with the greatest happiness. 'You handsome boy... ahh... You don't know how much I desired to feel you like this!' My penis, Marisol, was still hard and wanting to enjoy your mother twice more. 'You're beautiful!... You're the one who fills me up the most!' she looked at me with a smiling face. 'I'm sorry!' was all my mouth could say. Your mother smiled and gave me a kiss. 'Why? Because you made me feel like never before?' she asked, when I still felt her thighs wrapping around my legs. 'No... it's just that you... deserve more.' I managed to stammer out. Her blush was delicious. 'What are you talking about, my little boy? Don't you think you make me happy?' But it's more than that, Marisol. Maybe you'll understand better. I fell in love with your mother for being the tireless fighter who fills you with pride. The decent housewife who made all sorts of acrobatics so that you could have a decent education and a dignified living, despite your father obstinately insisting on ' contrary. I still believe she deserves a husband and although it doesn't matter to me if he has more lovers, I'm very aware that person shouldn't be me. I'm also aware you would refute this instantly, but try to understand that if I love you in this way, more than anything, your mom should have someone like that too. I won't deny making love to your mother is one of the greatest pleasures in my life. But she can't sustain herself just by seeing me occasionally. Maybe the situation suits her and indeed she could be happy that way. But every time I think about it retrospectively, I conclude it shouldn't be with me. I couldn't express it in words, but I looked at her uncomfortably. She, knowing how I am, gave me a kiss and waited for us to separate. I love yours! she said, caressing and kissing her softly. We would live together, we'd have ejaculations every day. Although your style is unique, Marisol, your mother's experience is almost indescribable. She was rubbing her hot tongue along my sides with exemplary lasciviousness. She was gently slapping me on the cheeks and licking the tip like an innocent girl, looking at me with a smile while adjusting herself. Then she would put it in the depths of her mouth, faster and faster, without stopping to rub my tongue and mouth, causing all kinds of pleasant sensations. Her head, lark, seemed like a runaway top, as if trying to savor me with the width and height of her mouth and teeth. I didn't even need guidance, because she was navigating only by looking at me constantly. Once she got tired (and had me waiting, after a long time), she put it between her legs, allowing me to appreciate the escape of her years during the wonderful expansion. She started riding me slowly, with cadenced moans, enjoying the softness of the thrusts. I was marveling and excited in the highest expression at her admirable breasts, which although they hung a little, did not cease to be great and succulent, with their defiant nipples rising in excitement and with an areola that seemed to whimper to be defiled on the lips. “Do you still like mine? Do you still like the breasts of this old woman?” I asked, smiling like a girl, as I saw you admiring them impressed. I caressed her face because deep down, I saw you, nightingale, and just like you, she let herself be loved like a kitten, closing her eyes and enjoying, while the ride went up gradually in intensity. The sensation, as I mentioned, was indescribable. Her little face twisted slightly towards the sky, giving out pleased moans, while my hands descended slowly over her breasts. At those moments, I wanted to be touched. Or rather, I wanted you to touch me. And as you know, I started playing with her erect nipples, which increased the vehemence of her pleasant complaints. I had to close my eyes, Marisol, because as you know, your mother was once a source of my nocturnal reliefs and being aware now that in those times she also desired me in the same way, made it threaten to prematurely discharge me. I started thinking about you, reaching that age. Probably, I would surpass 50 years old and I began to worry that I wouldn't have the same vitality as now. You know how much I love you, heart. But making love has become an important part of our life and I imagined that you would see yourself so seductive as she was, with breasts so soft and wonderful like the ones I was palpating. Even, I also thought about the little ones, who by those years would be the living image of you and your sister and supposing that karma is repetitive, probably they would share the same boyfriend, just like you do these days. The lucky boy would surely go looking for one of his girlfriends and find you there, alone and maybe desiring an experience more youthful. There would be no better relationship between son-in-law and mother-in-law, just like the one I have with you and it would make you enjoy as I do now in these times.
But my thoughts changed dramatically because getting to know you, you would want our little ones to know love as you knew it and the libidinous thought that came to my mind altered me so much that I had to open my eyes again.
Your mother was shaking with ecstasy, with a pleasant-looking face of pain.
More!... More!... My pretty boy!... What's tasty! your mother demanded, insatiable.
She bombarded me with kisses while her wonderful breasts continued to shake like church bells. The motel bed shook violently as your mother punished me strongly with her sinuous hip movement.
What madness! I thought to myself. It's the vagina from where my nightingale came out!
And that simple thought made me even harder and your mother crowned it with a loud scream.
I was affirmatively embracing her hips, as your mother rode me hard. She thanked me for the gesture, lying on top of my chest and rubbing her soft and sweaty breasts against me.
As I held back until my teeth hurt, my mind kept wondering what fate would befall your mother since she could no longer have children. Because women like her (and therefore like you) live their sexuality to the fullest expression, as you well know, never having cared when making love with your mother.
Yessss!... Marquito!... Fill me up!... Fill me up... with all your ejaculation... my love!... Ahh!... Aaaaah!... My beautiful son-in-law!... Give it to me all!... Please! she demanded, anxious.
And I had to let go. She gave a intense moan as she felt her entrails bathed by my juices of pleasure and sighed, completely sweaty, looking at me with the same eyes you have when you're done. My little boy!... My beautiful boy!... I love you!... I love you for making me so happy! she kissed me softly.
We rested, and the I was sipping on her hair, impregnating myself with her marvelous essence. Your little friend still wants more, my love! she informed me, very sweetly, as I felt hard in her. Once we could detach and confirm that my erection remained vigorous, she smiled with a sun-like face and got down on all fours. Come on, my little one! Break into your favorite mother-in-law's tiny ass! she said in a maternal but captivatingly perturbing tone. And although your mom's booty isn't as still as yours, Marisol, it's not seductive either. Her soft, silky, and fleshy buttocks were a delight for my hands. And just like you, my perverted thrush, my glans over her anus entrance made her shudder in anticipation, sending a chill through her entire body. It goes without saying that I didn't need too much lubrication. The mixture between her vaginal juices and my semen, which seemed to coat my tool, was enough lubricant to break into the tiny ass. Another cry of pain mixed with pleasure received me at the end of the first entry sprint. You still have a tight little ass, or else my thickness is still respectable for your behind. Ahhh!... It's been a while since they broke it in like this, my little one!... Uhhhhh! she complained, as I was pulling out and putting back in. But in this position, just like with you and your small roll, I could assert myself on hers, completely freely, since she also had to assert herself not to fall with the movements. No, my child!... Ahhh!... Leave it there!... Please!... They look so ugly! she protested, with a melodious voice. What are you talking about, Veronica? Don't you know how much I like? I asked. I understood how they had become again. Now that she worked at the bakery, probably couldn't attend her dance classes before vacation made her lose weight. But not because of that, she lost beauty. Rather, it was enhanced, as it returned the home air that initially captivated me. My little one Bad!... Ahhhhhh!... How do you say... those things?... Mhhhhhm!... Don't you see how much you make... your mother-in-law enjoy... ahhhh... with those words?...”
I, Marisol, was giving it to her with all the vitality I had. I wanted to break it, just like I do with you, but for the countless times you tempted me when you were going to give classes.
My thrusts were getting stronger and deeper, hitting her buttocks vertiginously with my glutes and burying my swollen and varicose rod completely in her testicles, through that hot and tight channel.
Endless and profuse cries of joy were being uttered by your mother at this moment, while she was ravaging her marvelous Booty with furious thrusts.
I evacuated again into her precious cavity and we remained frozen in ecstasy. Ahhhh!... Those little girls... must be living well contented... with you taking care of them! she said to me, sighing and recovering her senses. What they lack least... apart from love and affection... is cock for the night...
We laughed at her occurrence and entered the bathroom. It was almost night.
We showered and made love again in the hot water, but quickly and expeditiously. The administrator had already knocked twice because the four hours flew by. Veronica left much happier and smiling from the motel, and while waiting for the taxi, she didn't stop talking.
Never passed so well in a motel like this! I tell you, if they lived with them and had free time, I would eat until with lemon! she said to me, with a smile of happiness and freedom that reminded me of you.
When I went to my parents' house, the lights were on. Honestly, I didn't care anymore if my mother had discovered or not.
Veronica was leaning against my chin, just like a loving wife or mother-in-law could do, and it showed in the way she hugged me that she didn't want me to leave either.
But Our responsibilities were calling us and we had to fulfill them. The next day, we left just as we arrived: Renting a vehicle.
I said goodbye to my parents and handed over the rest of my money. Although I thought about giving some to Verónica, I knew she would be more content without it, since she could finally take care of herself on her own.
But what kept going around in my head for a couple of days was what my princess told me the night before our return.
Marco... Would you mind being my new papi? she asked, after telling me the last bedtime story.
Why? I asked, surprised.
Because my mommy loves you very much and so do I... and you're a better papi than my papi... whom I haven't seen in a long time, she said.
Her words moved me because it was true: I always saw her as a little girl and many of the things I've learned with the little ones have been because I practiced them with her first.
But I'm married to Marisol now and live far away... I explained.
It doesn't matter! she replied with the stubbornness of her sisters. You marry my mommy, you come live with us, and stay with Marisol...
Her reflection made me laugh, but she still didn't understand (in fact, I don't think I do either, at this moment) the seriousness of marriage.
Uh! Would you like to lend your dad to me instead? I offered another alternative. Because my dad needs a son and you need a papi. He's a good papi and someone has to take care of him very much. If you need him, you can look for him and he'll be there for whatever you want.
Her green eyes lit up tremendously.
Really? Really will you lend me your papi? she asked excitedly.
Yes. I replied, wiping away my tears. But you have to take care of him and return him to me just as I lent him to you.
No, Marco! If I take care of him. Thank you, thank you!Next post
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