Paul Gable
Hot Mama
CHAPTER ONE
Joanne Hill nervously looked around the crowded waiting room of the downtown Los Angeles Greyhound Bus Station to see if anyone else noticed the kissing couple in front of her.
Christ! Why don't they stop? Joanne wondered to herself as she shook her head angrily and tried to concentrate on the tiny television screen in front of her.
But it was no use. Her eyes drifted back to the high-school students. She especially paid attention to the long, thick, hard cock that strained against the guy's tight jeans. Joanne could almost feel his big hands as they crawled across the girl's tight sweater, brushing and milking her mammoth jugs. No one else in the waiting room seemed to notice what was happening.
"Ohhhh," Joanne said out loud, then looked round cautiously to see if anyone noticed her low moan of frustration. People were shuttling in and out of the big, brightly lit room so quickly that Joanne could have been fingering her snatch-lips and few would have noticed.
"Greyhound coach from San Francisco now arriving at Service Dock Four," a voice boomed out of the speaker.
Joanne felt a bolt of shock rip through her body as she heard the announcement. Her son Doug was coming home on that bus for a vacation after six months in a military school, and here she was staring at a couple necking! A mother waiting for her son wasn't supposed to be thinking of hot dicks and big, hanging balls-at least, Joanne thought that that was a little improper.
"Ohhhh," the blonde moaned softly again as she tried to get up from the white fiberglass chair. But her legs were too wobbly from the sexual lust that gripped her beating clit. Joanne sank back into the seat and watched helplessly as the couple began grinding their bodies together with increasing frenzy. Joanne watched the girl's right hand slide down the teen's belly until it stopped directly over the twitching cock-bulge straining his fly. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she thought of the hot, throbbing sensation that girl must be feeling with her fingertips now.
It was as if she were living through the dream she'd been having night after night. Joanne imagined herself with a young man. He was tall, well-built and hung like a race horse! The two of them were always in some kind of dark room so that she couldn't make out his features too well. But she could tell that he'd been wanting her for a long time. Joanne could sense that from the tender way he moved his hands over her naked, sweaty body. Every movement made her jerk and twist shamelessly on the sheets as his fingers slid closer and closer to her twitching pussy-lips. Every raw nerve-ending in her mushy box strained to meet the crawling hands.
Joanne opened her eyes and tried to shake the memory of that dream loose. But her mind stubbornly refused to change channels as she pictured her hand sliding slowly up and down the hard, heavily veined cock that jerked inches away from her parted lips Joanne knew that in a second she'd be clamping her mouth around that long dick, sucking desperately at the cum-dripping rod as the young man hammered wildly at the back of her throat with his bulbous cock-head.
Her dream was suddenly shattered as she heard the girl whine out that she was going to miss her bus. Joanne watched in amazement as the teenaged brunette pulled away from her boy friend and straightened her blouse and skirt mechanically. Joanne riveted her eyes on the big bulge between the guy's legs, unconsciously licking her lower lip. She'd miss the Second Coming in order to get her fat twat lips around that cock!