Last summer I went to the beach with a group of guys. We rented a cottage down the street from one where my girlfriend and her friends were staying. Her mother, who looks a lot like her, petite, nice shoulder length brown hair, olive skin, perfect small to medium breasts, and brown slinky legs to die for, was chaperoning with two other mothers. I thought Mrs.

Crandell was good-looking but never in my dreams did I see her as wild in any way. I guess getting away from Mr. Crandell did something to her.

The day after we arrived we were all on the beach throwing frisbies and footballs, etc. and I had to take a leak.

My girlfriend's cottage was close by so I walked up the front steps and was about to step in when I heard a slight whimper. Not knowing exactly what it was, I cupped my hands and looked through the glare into the living roomkitchen. Mrs. Crandell was standing in the kitchen area, leaning slightly against the counter. A man from the cottage next door was standing body to body with her. I could see his hand was inside the short red robe she was wearing and her was stroking her between the legs. They must have just started because she got louder as I watched. Her whimpers turned to stacatto-like moans and she was humping his hand harder and harder. I couldn't have stood it as long as he did but finally he was so hard he lifted her up on the counter and pulled the robe off her writhing body and gently dropped it on the floor. His face exuded a startled satisfaction.

He was about to enter the thrusting slit of an absolutely gorgeous woman. He couldn't have known when he came over. She didn't know what was happening.

By this time she had completely lost it. He mounted her on the counter and her muffled, choking and gurgling sounds filled the cottage and wafted to the porch. He almost immediately shot his load and moaned himself.

He could barely be heard because, at that time she exploded. A load Ooooh, followed by a loud Aaaah, then, like she was coming back to life, she groveled along the counter and slid to the floor. Her nicely trimmed bush turned my way and, as much as I wanted to stay, I ran...

the urge to take a leak was long gone. There isn't room or time to detail the rest of the story.

Suffice it to say that the next day, when everyone was on the beach, I went to the cottage to see if this was a daily thing.

Mrs. Randell was alone, on the couch in her bikini, reading. I gathered my courage, went in, and sat beside her. Thirty minutes later, in her bedroom, I was sweating like a beast and thrusting into her slick, wet private part with everything I had.

Her royal blue bikini bottom was around one ankle, her top unhooked and pushed away, revealed perfectly shaped breasts, golden brown to about an inch of her nipples, a thin band of lighter skin that had not seen the sun, and two dark nipples as hard as anything I had ever seen. She got louder and louder and when I came she lost it just like the day before.

She was humping as hard as she could, and this time, I had a close-up view of her wet bush with a hard pink personal place protruding onto her labia. At once it would savagely hurl toward my face and then retreat, with her sweet beautiful soft place banging the bed. Juice was literally running down those luscious brown legs. I noticed a mixture of my cum and hers teasing from her elegantly manicured and perfectly painted middle toes.

When she finally came to she looked at me and politely asked me to leave. I walked away stunned.