The coach's hot wife

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"Oh Steve darling! Your cock's so hard! It feels so good in my mouth! Mmmmm…"

They made a striking contrast. The boy, no more than eighteen, was well tanned and his thick hair was black as jet. The woman was in her mid-twenties. Her skin was the palest of unblemished alabaster. It was so fine and smooth; it was the kind of skin one can't help wanting to touch, just to see if it is real. Her hair was long and thick, a startling shade of red-auburn. It flowed over her back and the boy's thighs and belly as she labored over his erect cock. Her pink lips slipped up and down along his cock-shaft. They left behind them a coating of saliva that shone in the light that filtered in through the boy's bedroom window.

There was no doubt it was a boy's bedroom. A display of hunting knives hung on one wall. Pictures of major league football stars covered most of the rest of the walls, from waist level up. On the floor was a pile of clothing. On the very top of the pile was a pair of lacy pink panties.

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