Dad was a short stout guy at about 5′ 8″, 220 or so. The thrill of seeing her, the nearness of almost being caught was almost more than I could stand.
He was a successful business owner and a good provider for his family.
The sharp intake of breath was my signal to continue.
With my other hand I reached around and squeezed her huge mammary. I heard the sibilance of her sharp intake of breath.
As their tempo built to the inevitable climax, so did mine.
As dad spurted his seed into mom, I spurted mine into a pair of her soiled panties I had filched from the hamper. Their heads were close together, Dad would whisper something in mom’s ear.
At 18 I thought it was very unfair to drag me across country to a funeral for a woman I knew little about. It seemed everyone in town wanted say a remembrance. There was a pain in my dick from being so hard so long. Impulsively I stuffed the wet crusty part of the towel in my mouth. Sometimes dad fucked her without her taking them off. Shortly after takeoff, the flight attendant passed out blankets.
Near the front of the church was a large stained glass window. The pungent aroma of mom’s pussy and dad’s seed filled my nasal passages. I would inhale deeply, reveling in the smell of wet pussy and semen. She apologized for the delay and announced they were dimming the lights to allow the passengers to sleep.
We lived a comfortable if not extravagant existence. I loved him because he was a stern but loving symbol of stability.
He provided an effective image of manhood for me to emulate. She was washing her pussy, cleaning out the remnants of tonight’s sex. I watched as she used both hands to smooth her pussy hair. Then she ran her finger in her pussy, pulled it out and licked it. I barely made it back before I heard her padding barefoot across the hall.
Some saint or other was depicted with his hands raised in benediction. Then I would add my sperm to the load dad had left. I didn’t know it then but years later I would read an article that said sons always lust for their mothers.
Or maybe he was expressing horror at the banalities of life that he had to witness. Most men spend their lives looking for a woman who remind them of mom so they can fuck her. The plane was a 727, the workhorse of the airlines in those days. On a 727 that meant tons of legroom in the three across seats.
I resented him because each night he crawled in bed with the object of my teenage lust. She swayed slightly as she performed this post sex ablution. I groaned as I spontaneously came, spilling my youthful seed on the hallway floor. I listened as the door closed followed by the squeak of the bed as she returned to the side of my father.