forehead on his cheek.
He untied her bikini neck cords and turned the front down. Her white boobies floated to the surface. He thumbed the puffed crowns, bent the lengthening nipples. Kit responded by thrusting a hand down to his cock, wrenching it out and clutching it fiercely.
She panted, 'Sonny I'm so hot-I've got to have it-'
'One of the islands?'
She nodded and thrust out of his grasp, left the shadow of the float and really dug water, arms churning. Sonny quickly followed but she drew ahead. She no longer cared to flatter his swimming ability. He pulled with all his strength but was a dozen yards out when she thrust out of the water and ran up a grassy slope and disappeared into the woods.
Touching bottom, he began running, aware that his stiff cock protruded out the leg hole of his swimsuit. He saw no one on the island shore. He splashed out of the water, raced into the woods.
Ahead, in an open glade, Kit was bent over, her tits hanging out like rosy-tipped white bells, stripping down her bikini bottoms.
Panting, Sonny paused and stretched his trunks over the jutting length of his cock, tore them off Kit was naked, holding the small yellow patches that made up her bikini in one hand. Seeing him move toward her, she gave a laugh and turned and plunged off through the woods.
She ran like a deer. He followed her bobbing white asscheeks, dodging around bushes, jumping fallen logs. Her titties flung about and as she glanced back at him her eyes flashed with gee. Sonny felt his cock wag stiffly and his balls jumping all about as he ran, stretching out, ten-foot strides, a leering, naked, stiff-pronged satyr such as he had seen in an art book, chasing a white-assed, milky-titted forest nymph. He would not catch her. He would run eternally, like the satyr fixed for all time running in the art book, desperately hard of cock, his scrotum leaping as though it might wrap around The immense stem sprouting from his loins.
Surely, his mother could not run this fast. She was no longer a girl. And yet she was, that was it, his mother had become a young girl like Lily, whooping with laughter as she led him through the island forest. She ran through partial shade that mottled her flesh with leaf patterns. She exploded into sunshine where the globes of her white ass were plump snowballs of flesh. She ducked into shade where he chased those glowing white cheeks or the bob of a tit as she turned back to see if he was still in pursuit.
He guessed they were circling the island again and again. It could not be large. He should stop, cut straight across and intercept her. But the race had become an end in itself. She was showing off her new-found, exuberant youth. He would play her game.
Then he tripped over a root and fell flat on a bed of dry leaves.
Kit's laughter trailed off into the distance.
She ran, leaped over bushes, dodged around trees, high as a kite on fresh air and love and lust. Never had a dozen cocktails or even Myra's pink cigarettes raised her this near the clouds. She joyed in the jumps and lurches of her titties, in the loud squishing of her cunt, in the feel of cool forest air on every inch of her skin, in the damp grass and the cushioning dry leaves underfoot. She wished she could throw away her bikini and run naked, forever, her big-cocked son in hot pursuit. She had escaped home, Bill's greenhouse, her job, Myra's lesbianism, her car, her possessions. She was free, she and her son with his long, stiff cock and his flying scrotum. They were woods creatures, savages. The bits of swimsuit nylon in her hand alone reminded her of another life.
The tiny bikini became heavy, drawing her down from her celestial soaring. It existed. Eventually she would have to hide her tits and cunt with it and swim back to the beach, to the car, and they would ride back to a town where incest was a sin.
She could not hear Sonny. She stopped, leaned panting against a tree.
She felt heavy now, and tired. She began retracing her steps, stealthily, guessing that he was hiding, would try to surprise her. She was no longer a forest sprite but an Indian stalking his prey, looking for dry twigs before she placed a foot.
She found him in a small, grassy glade in partial shade, gazing up the trunk of a towering tree. His cock stood like a fence post knobbed with red velvet. She walked softly toward him. He did not see her until her shadow fell across his face.
She dropped on her knees beside him, fisting his prick.
He said, 'I never thought a girl could run like that.'
Her legs were trembling from exertion. But the feel of his stiff, throbbing cock in her hand helped restore her, and his calling her a girl instead of a woman. Well, damnit, she would be a girl for a day, silly and frivolous, vacillating, willful, wanton. They had their nude bodies and a day of time and a forested island. If anyone came along, fuck them. Hit them with sticks and stones- He reached a hand to her tittie, cupped it and drew her toward him. Still kneeling she came over him, lowering her hanging-out breasts to his face. He licked his lips. His tongue extended, touched her nipple, then curled wetly about it. She sucked in her breath, feeling the sensitive bump heat and expand to a rigid peg. He lipped on it and tugged. The pull sent warmth fanning throughout the orb of her breast. His mouth widened, lips rolling wetly, consuming the big puff of her aureole. At last his lips formed a ring on white tit, indenting it, still drawing more into his mouth.
Kit fingered her other dangling breast, clustering her fingers on, the rosy tip and drawing off He saw that, tongued the one out of his mouth and switched, gulping tit. He sucked hard and her nipple seemed to bore right into her throat.
The feel of having her breasts sucked excited Kit to jerking her hips. She needed a come, and right now, to calm herself for all the lovemaking they would have.
She whispered, 'Sonny, stop! That will drive me crazy! Let me climb on you and get an orgasm. Then we can do anything, everything.'
He nodded and relinquished a tit end so turgid that it looked like one of Myra's, the aureole a cone flowing into the finger-like nipple so imperceptibly that a hand could grip it. It was almost too big, an embarrassing display of the lasciviousness within her.
She switched about, meaning to throw a across him and ride his cock.
But on seeing it she lost control. She seized it in both hands and dropped to it, her mouth yawning.
She filled her mouth with cock.
'Mother!' he cried. 'What are you-doing?'
Mother.
She was not a limber young girl dancing through the woods. She was his mother.
Sucking his cock.
He was shocked. But she could not stop. The fat cockhead in her mouth squished under her suction, a velvet-skinned sponginess, compressing until she felt the rigidity within. She licked the glans, swabbed it with the flat of her tongue while the point prodded her palate. She squeezed her fist on the swank and with her other hand scooped up his balls, kneading them and massaging the iron stem, licking and sucking the beautiful head.
'But Mother-' he said.
She tore her mouth from it, crying, 'Sonny, I know I shouldn't, but women do. Women like it. Do you understand? Does it feel good to you?'
'Gosh, it makes me jerk all over. But I never thought-'
'Sonny, I have to. To show how much I love you.
A lie, she thought. Her lust now was apart from love. She had always liked cocksucking and now she again gobbled the swollen head, went down, down, swallowing the tip, working her mouth on the stem of it while massaging the base and his plump nuts.
His hips began heaving, driving the bony hardness into her oral cavity, fucking into her pulling, rhythmic suction. She continued munching, sucking, kneading the splendid column of meat towering from his loins.
She gulped off the knob and gazed at the Lit of red-purple flesh, the sharply defined rim, while licking underneath. A drop of fluid oozed from the split. She puckered her lips on it, kissing it, slowly sucking it into her mouth.
She licked down one side, tracing the bulging blue vein into the ruff of his pubic hair. She lipped the delicate skin of the scrotum, then fingered a plump testicle into her mouth.
Sonny groaned loudly as she rubbed the rampant cock against her cheek, licking up the saliva-slippery stem to the head. Her mouth yawned and, she consumed it with a gulp.
