Becky Had a Big Mouth

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Readers please note… This story contains elements of voyeurism and exhibitionism and the main characters are a middle-aged woman who keeps her body in a mostly natural state and a much younger guy whose tastes run toward exactly that type of woman.

***

The date was July 14, 1971 and it was just around noon when I walked down Exchange Street after stopping at the little grocery store for a soda. This was the part of the trip I dreaded, I recall thinking as I picked up my pace while nearing my ex-girlfriend’s house, hoping that she wouldn’t be outside.

It had ended badly, and even though it wasn’t really love, when you’re 18 everything seems worse than it really is, so even though I was the one that broke it off it still stung when I would see her, even more if she was messing around with a guy.

I knew she had school and probably wouldn’t be home, but since she wasn’t exactly a scholar and was already a year behind as it was, there was always the chance she was there, so when I saw the screen door open I cringed.

“Hi there Jimmy,” came the voice from the doorway. “Long time no see.”

“Hi, Mrs. Brown,” I replied, relieved that it wasn’t her daughter, and while I hadn’t had much contact with her in the couple of months Becky and I had dates, she seemed alright.

“Why don’t you come in for a minute?” she suggested. “It’s hot as the dickens out there, and I’d like you to do me a favor, if you’re not in a hurry.”

“Becky won’t be home until after 3, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she chided.

I went into the kitchen, where it turned out she needed a light bulb changed in the kitchen, so being a nice guy I climbed up on the chair and fumbled around with the glass bowl the bulb was behind.

“Nice to have a man around the house,” Mrs. Brown said as she put her hand on my thigh to steady me.

She might have meant well, but when her hand slipped down off my shorts and onto my thigh, that was no help at all, and got my hands shaking at the contact.

Mrs. Brown looked a lot like her daughter, I thought as I glanced down at the woman, only in a much larger size. Her hair was just as black as her daughter’s, although Mrs. Brown’s showed a little grey at the roots at the part in her wavy hair.

Big breasts, I couldn’t help noting even though she was wearing a pink and white short sleeved shirt that was very loose. Becky sure didn’t have those, with hers being banana boobs that were skinny and hung low, probably because she rarely wore a bra.

Her mother sure couldn’t go without support, I figured, and I was having trouble enough with the light fixture as it was without mentally undressing a woman who was probably close to 50.

That’s not the only thing that’s close to 50, I thought as I tried not to look at Mrs. Brown’s chest and stop attempting to guess what size bra she wore. One time when I had been in the backyard with Becky I had seen a bra on the clothesline that obviously wasn’t my girlfriend’s, and the cups were probably big enough to but my head in but the tag was too worn to read.

After I got home I would be running to my room to jerk off, something that was becoming a habit in the summer of 1971 without a girlfriend. That much was a given.

“Not much hair on your legs there, Jimmy,” Mrs. Brown noticed as she ran her hand along the little down on the inside of my calf. “You shave them?”

“No ma’am,” I mumbled, and as my face burned I was sure that I had turned as red as a beet with embarrassment.

“There,” I declared after turning what might have been a 60 second job into an almost 10 minute project, and as I climbed down off the chair sweat was running down my face.

“You’re all sweaty,” she told me, like I didn’t already know, and after handing me a paper towel to wipe my face told me I needed a drink.

“What’s the matter?” she said as she handed me a beer. “I know you kids drink it, and it’s noon, so go ahead. More where that came from too.”

I popped open the can of Piels, a nasty and cheap brew that I was quite familiar with, and as I took a deep swallow I nearly choked on it.

“It’s getting hot in here,” Mrs. Brown had declared. “Either that or watching you sweat did it.”

Mrs. Brown didn’t look all that warm because the house was air-conditioned, but she had unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off, and while she wasn’t naked, she might as well have been because all she was wearing was a wife beater white t-shirt with nothing underneath.

Nothing underneath – that wasn’t exactly right. What was underneath had to be the biggest pair of tits in the world, and those massive torpedoes hung down to her waist, with the nipples looking like bullets as they poked out the cotton.

She was no raving beauty mind you, but she was attractive in her own way, looking a little like Connie Francis only with a gigantic bust. Her arms were only a little plump but were solid, and that was where my attention was diverted after my staring was met with an amused grin casino siteleri from Mrs. Brown.

“Something wrong, Jimmy?” Mrs. Brown asked as she lifted her arms and ran her hands through her wavy hair, and the gesture was intentional.

I had tried and failed not to stare at Mrs. Brown’s incredible tits, and now faced with what Mrs. Brown was showing me, it would have taken a roll of paper towels to dry me off.

Mrs. Brown had hairy armpits, and I knew that Mrs. Brown was smiling at my reaction to her little show, but there was no way I could not look at those thick tufts of hair that filled the cavernous hollows of her underarms. There were a lot of hippie girls around who didn’t shave their armpits, but I had never seen any as hairy as Mrs. Brown’s were.

“Becky wasn’t kidding,” Mrs. Brown said as she lowered her arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, and even with her arms at her sides there were hairs peeking out of the fold.

“Huh?” I said, acting like I was in a stupor.

“Becky, remember her? My daughter? Your old flame?” Mrs. Brown said with a laugh. “She said you have an armpit fetish.”

“I dunno about that,” I said sheepishly, and knowing Becky I didn’t think she knew the word fetish, but I was too embarrassed to say anything else.

“She said you kept asking her not to shave.”

That was true, and as I nodded I recalled how I kept pressing her to let her underarm hair grow, but she was not going to do it for me.

“You have any idea how hairy I would be?” Becky had said.

Yes, I did have an idea, having spent a lot of time staring at her armpits, and that was one of the reasons I was attracted to her. The more I stared at her armpits, the more I imagined the stubble that filled those craters becoming real hair, and it wouldn’t have taken that long, judging by how fast her pit hair grew.

I would pick Becky up in the morning and her pits would be smooth, but by noon she would have 5 o’clock shadow, and by evening her armpits would be coated with a dense stubble.

“I said that I told Becky she should do what you wanted,” Mrs. Brown was saying, repeating something that I must have missed with my daydreaming. “A good man is hard to find, especially men with a big one.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, Becky and me – we talk a lot,” Mrs. Brown said as she raised her arms again, this time linking her hands behind her head, exposing not only her armpit jungles but making her tits rise and thrust out even more. “She told me all about you. You’re a kinky devil. She told me how you would lick her armpits even if they were sweaty and stubbly.”

“Oh geez,” I mumbled while my face burned.

“You’re cute when you blush, you know that Jimmy?” Mrs. Brown said while continuing to pose for my benefit, and I wasn’t even able to pretend not to stare any longer. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Heck, we all got our kinky parts. When I was your age I went with a guy that used to have me pee on him. What do you think of that?”

“I dunno,” I mumbled, although it didn’t interest me.

“She told me about the other place you like to lick,” she said, and as she spoke I wished that Becky was there so I could strangle her for telling her mother about our private times. “She liked that though. I’ll bet she didn’t admit it though.”

No, she hadn’t. She had let me rim her but pretended that she was just letting me do it for my own benefit, but when I had my face in that hairy crack I didn’t care about anything else.

“Becky said you could really get that tongue of yours deep into her asshole,” Mrs. Brown continued. “Freaked her out at first but after a while she liked it. Maybe as much as you did.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I said, almost whined. “I feel bad enough.”

“You don’t know why, Jimmy?” Mrs. Brown asked.

“Is there anything she didn’t tell you?”

“I don’t know, but everything she said turned out to be right so far,” she said, and after looking down at my crotch she smiled and asked me if I peed myself.

I looked down in horror as I saw the massive wet spot around my pocket that was where my boner had grown and leaked like a sieve.

“I know you didn’t,” Mrs. Brown said. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you come over her and get what you want?”

I probably looked like a zombie as I staggered over to my ex-girlfriend’s mother, who was still there with her hands behind her neck, and when I got over there she nodded her approval when I leaned into her breasts and buried my face into Mrs. Brown’s bushy armpit.

I was ready to explode as I licked the slightly damp armpit jungle, the hair thick and soft against my tongue, and unlike Becky’s pits, which were always dripping with deodorant that burned my mouth, Mrs. Brown’s were natural and the scent was all woman with just a hint of soap.

“Am I hairy enough for you, Jimmy?” I heard her said, and I grunted a yes while continuing to attack her underarm like a madman. “That’s nice. Feels good. Let me see if Becky was canlı casino right about something else. That bulge sure looked big.”

What would I have done if Becky ever walked in and saw this scene? Her mother with her right hand reaching into my shorts and trying to pull my erection out of the sticky mess in my cramped underwear while her ex-boyfriend had his face buried under her Mom’s arm kicking and licking her profusely hairy armpit like an animal.

I would have guessed that the answer to that question was that I would have died, or at the very least fainted, but I didn’t. The sound coming from behind me did make me stop licking though.

“Mom! What are you…” Becky said as she dropped her books on the floor after doing at bad job of putting them on the little desk by the door.

“What are you doing home early, drama queen?” was all Mrs. Brown said, still in the same pose she was in only now my cock was out of my shorts and I had lost my erection after being startled.

“Half days this week,” Becky mumbled. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Which one of us you talking about?” Mrs. Brown asked.

“You – both of you. You’re disgusting!”

“I think you’re jealous little lady,” her Mom suggested.

“She’s 48 frigging years old,” Becky next declared, apparently not happy with me either.

“I’m 48 down there too,” Mrs. Brown snapped, nodding down at her massive jugs that filled and stretched out the wife-beater. “Jimmy here seems to like them too, don’t you? Don’t see him running away, huh Becky?”

I did like them but since she had me by the dick it wasn’t like I could go anywhere either, and it seemed like Mrs. Brown was having a lot of fun over the situation.

“We’ll talk about this after he leaves,” Becky announced.

“Jimmy isn’t going anywhere, are you babe?” she asked and not waiting for a reply told me to go back to what I was doing.

“Don’t know why this freaked you out so much Becky,” her Mom said as I tentatively leaned forward so I could hide my flushed face from my ex-girlfriend’s glare, and as I let my tongue slide up the inside of Mrs. Brown’s arm until I reached where the hair stopped I heard her say to her daughter, “Never had anybody do this to me – your old man used to like to play with my pit hair – but this licking I like. Really sensitive.”

I think Becky was crying a little, and I heard her footsteps start to go up the stairwell to her room but I guess she stopped and was watching us through the wooden rails of the stairwell like a prisoner.

“She’s watching us,” Mrs. Brown whispered to me and then much louder said, “Feels so good – that’s it you horny devil. Keep licking my hairy armpit. Your cock is so hard, and Becky wasn’t kidding. You do have a whopper. Bigger than any of my ex-husbands, that’s for sure.”

My cock was throbbing again, and the thought that Becky was watching this was actually turning me on.

“Here, why don’t we get rid of this?” Mrs. Brown suggested as she let go of my cock long enough to grab the bottom of the wife beater and pull it over her head, and after casting it aside hefted her pendulous jugs as best she could said, “What do you think Jimmy? I know damn well you aren’t used to tits this big.”

Of course I wasn’t. Who was, except maybe the three men she had married and dumped, along with whomever else got caught up with her? Her breasts were nothing like the women in Playboy. They were bigger than footballs and hung down to her waist, and there were some traces of veins on the chalky white skin. Her nipples were as big as baby carrots and the pebbly crimson aureolas they were centered on were bigger than drink coasters. Maybe she did have a 48″ bust because they weighed as much as bowling balls when I tried to lift them.

My hands pawed the fleshy pillows, kneading the plaint jugs while Mrs. Brown laughed and looked over to where I guess her daughter was still watching, and then raised her left arm like she had done her right and reminded me she had two armpits.

That she did, and unlike her other armpit which I had slobbered over until it was dripping with saliva, the hair under her left arm at least for the time being was dry and bushy looking.

“That’s my kinky boy,” Mr. Brown cooed as she ran her hand through my scalp. “I love it when you lick all the way up there.”

“Like this?” I mumbled as my tongue traveled through the densest part of the jungle and slid up to the inside of her meaty bicep where the hair thinned out and then stopped, and as my saliva pasted the timberline of her armpit forest to her skin she let out a dramatic groan.

“I want to suck your cock,” she announced. “Ever have a woman suck it?”

A few had, but after Becky’s Mom got down onto the linoleum and practically swallowed my entire tool the first trip her lips made down it, I learned that this was indeed another league I was in.

After making about 6 of the 9″ inches slick with the first swoop down my member, Mrs. Brown’s head started kaçak casino bobbing rapidly, and as she did her lips went a little further down each time until the tip of my dick was against her throat and her face was in my pubes.

“Damn!” I gasped, and after Mrs. Brown’s lips slid back to the tip she leaned back with a devilish grin while she held my glistening manhood.

“How’s that babe?” she cackled before going right back down on it.

Becky. She was there sitting on the steps and looking through the rails, her hand gripping on of them. On her finger was a school ring – not hers but some senior guy she was seeing – and I could see the red yarn she had used to make it fit her little finger.

I smiled in her direction as I ran my hands through her mother’s hair and leaned back against the stove.

“Oh man Mrs. Brown, you can really suck dick,” I said, a jab at Becky who barely got down much farther that the head. “That’s it – suck my cock – is it big enough for you?”

“Gonna find out in a minute,” Mrs. Brown declared, and after I helped her get up off the floor she brought me over to the kitchen table.

She peeled down her black spandex pants and very frumpy panties, revealing a surprisingly small butt – certainly compared to her top. She had a little belly but what I liked was her bush. It was no surprise that she had a hairy pussy seeing how bushy her armpits were, but I had never seen anything like the overgrown triangle that spilled over onto her thighs.

I wanted to explore that amazing bush but Mrs. Brown had other plans. Chiding me to get my shorts down, she turned around, leaned over and gripped the table.

“Fuck me hard Jimmy,” was all she said.

I came up behind her with cock in hand, and because she was a tall woman we lined up pretty good, but I wasn’t the most experienced kid in the world and it showed.

“Not my ass!” Mrs. Brown yelped as I fumbled around, rubbing my cock around underneath her, but it was so hairy – even her asshole – that I couldn’t tell what I was doing.

Luckily, I felt her hand reaching down and guided me to her sex, putting the head between what felt like large labia, and I leaned forward while she leaned back.

“Fuck!” Mrs. Brown howled as my cock slid into her, and although there was no foreplay, while it was snug it was nowhere near as tight as the other two pussies I had been in, probably because she had children and I guessed a lot of cocks that been there before as well.

Nothing was pretty about what happened in the four minutes that followed, timed because there was a cow clock on the wall across the table. I put my hands on Mrs. Brown’s hips and began thrusting hard. Too hard, I feared.

“Harder!” Mrs. Brown roared as she pushed herself back into me. “Harder babe! I ain’t no drama queen. You got the meat, now give me the motion.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about but I did as she wanted. I pounded into her with all my might, and the little chintzy square kitchen table she was leaned on was bouncing up against the wall. The stuff that was on it; salt shakers, newspapers, napkin holders and the like, were falling off as we fucked like dogs.

Leaning over her, I wanted to grab her tits but they were swaying so far down I couldn’t reach them. I was able to rake my fingers through her armpits though, and even gave the thickets a little tug before straightening up.

“Harder – more!” Mrs. Brown was calling out to me, and my response to her demands was to grab her by her scalp and yank her head back.

“Shut up!” I snarled, and it probably sounded stupid when I said it but she knew I just playing and she laughed in response, and groaned when I let my hands rake down her broad back, leaving a little something to remember me by.

“My boy’s becoming a man,” she announced. “Good. I like it rough.”

It had to end, and frankly I was surprised I had lasted that long. Summoning up everything I had in me I found yet another gear, almost sending Mrs. Brown over the table as she hung on to the edges for dear life.

“Harder – gonna cum!” Mrs. Brown cried out a few seconds before her pussy practically snapped my dick in half, and I came seconds after.

“Whew!” Mrs. Brown said after my cock slithered out of her, and as she turned around and straightened up and contorted her back she added. “Now that’s fucking.”

“And that’s how you keep a man happy,” Mrs. Brown continued, but she hadn’t said it to me but past me.

Becky. She had come down from the stairs and was standing down at the landing in the hall way, not to leave but probably to get a better view, and now she just looked at her Mom and me.

We were both sweaty messes, and I followed Becky’s eyes to what I thought she was she was looking at, which was my pasty cum oozing out of her Mom’s pussy and hanging onto her dark pubic hair.

“I hate you both,” she said, and then I noticed that her skirt had been bunched up in front, like she had her hand up under it while she watched. I didn’t know for sure, but the thought turned me on.

“No you don’t,” her mother said as she started to get dressed again, and eventually she went up to her room. “You love your Mom and I think you’re still sweet on Jimmy here.”

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