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A father's illness draws mother and son together.

"I'm here to do you folks a favor," said the dark man. He was long, lean, and had a nasty old scar on his right cheek from what looked like a twisted broken bottle. He had a five-day-beard, and stank of cigarettes.

"Here's Ken's wallet. I'm returning it." He held it up for her to see. She was so surprised she started, and began to fall over.

He caught her arm before she fell, and eased her back into the chair. "Want to know how I got it?"

Now Peg was very confused. Ken's wallet? This big dirty man has Ken's wallet? How? It made no sense.

Gently but quite firmly he took her by the neck and showed her the wallet. He deftly opened it one-handed and showed her that all the cards and photos were still there. "But I took the cash. Expenses."

"I'll tell you how I got it." He was very good at knowing exactly her questions. "I took it when I was fucking him. He didn't realize -- he was distracted by my big fat cock up his ass."

As you might imagine, this was big news for Peg. She didn't believe it. Ken was such a, well, MAN. Loved sports. A big-hearted drinker. Would go hunting if he knew how. He would never let this crude man fuck his ass-hole.

"You don't believe me? He wanted it. He saught it out. He wanted his ass fucked." Still with one hand on the back of her neck, he stood and undid his pants letting them drop. He wasn't wearing underwear. "First he sucked it."

Her small plump mouth was hanging open, so he easily stuck his big fat dick into it. As it thickened in her mouth, she noticed that it was bigger than any dick she'd ever known. 7 or 8 inches. Much thicker than Ken's 5, too.

Peg knew a few dicks before she'd married Ken, and one since. Harry Drucker's. Harry was the guy at the neighborhood parties who didn't get pasted watching sports on TV, but instead chased all the leftover ladies. He was very successful.

One night, when Ken got so drunk he passed out, she had sucked Harry off. She was so mad at Ken. She didn't swallow, and spat Harry's cum into his wool pinstriped pants so they would stink. And she didn't let him fuck her. Still, she'd rather enjoyed his dick; it was streamlined and sporty. The curly hairs on his balls were soft.

She had enjoyed sucking Harry off. And she certainly never told Ken.

"That's nice. You're sucking my cock a little. Still, Ken was much more enthusiastic. He was so nervous I knew he hadn't sucked off a stranger often, but he knew the drill so I knew it wasn't his first time."

Peg tried drooling -- it was about all she could do. He rubbed his glans, his dick-head, against the ribbed roof of her mouth and got fully hard. His clothes were dirty, but his flesh was actually fairly clean. His brown pubes smelled faintly of soap.

"He bathes , then puts on dirty clothes! How odd!" she thought. Still, she got some sucking going. Actually, if she could have, she'd have felt up his ass and balls.

"That's enough," he said, pulling his cock from her mouth. He lifted her by her armpits, turned her around, and sat her on the edge of the kitchen table. "Here we go."

The nasty stranger then laid her down on the table. It was not comfortable, there were lots of plates and stuff, and several glasses crashed to the floor.

"Are you beginning to believe me?" he asked, as he lifted her legs onto his shoulders. Her slippers fell off. He tore her nightie down the front and exposed her nakedness -- she was wearing no underwear.

"Nice tits," he said, roughly palming them. He was also rubbing his dick up and down her vagina. She was surprised at how wet she was, at how welcome his big fat dick was inside her. The drugs, no doubt.

How had that happened? Ooo, it was thick. When he bottomed out she felt his hairy balls on her ass.

Yikes! He was fucking her! Peg notices that her little pink toes looked absurd pointed at the kitchen ceiling.

"Your husband came into the bar and asked me to fuck him.

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