Sweaty Crotch Woman
Copyright© 2026 by Peter Emrick
Chapter 13
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 13 - An aggressive woman enjoys taking young men's virginities
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Anal Sex First Oral Sex Novel-Pocketbook
Standing over her son, Gina Wallace could see signs of grogginess in his eyes from the sleeping pill and pain pill. “I guess I better give you a sponge bath, Hank,” she said, smiling ruefully. “How do you feel about that? I haven’t given you a bath since you were three or four.”
His smile was wan, sleepy. “I guess I can stand it if you can.”
“It was bad enough breaking your leg, but why did you have to skin your hands so badly you can’t wash yourself?” his mother frowned, her long, gaunt face pleasant in spite of its near ugliness.
“Just good luck, I guess,” Hank murmured, eyes vague as she brought in a dishpan of warm water and set it on a chair beside the bed. “You mean you’re going to wash all of me?”
The tall woman with heavy breasts bulging from the front of the ankle-length chenille robe nodded soberly. Yes, all of you, sonny-boy, she mused nervously. She hadn’t seen him naked since he was a little kid, but the rounded tenting of the sheet and light blanket supplied plenty of evidence he was going to be hung like his darned father.
He isn’t out, she observed, but he’s near enough he won’t remember much. She smiled as she wondered how Stephanie would react to giving her brother a bath. The poor girl would probably faint from the sight of a pecker—even a soft one.
“Oh, well, here goes,” she said in a hushed tone as she gently drew away the covers to expose her son, naked except for the thick bandages on his hands and the cast that reached the right knee. She didn’t know why, after all the years of being a nurse, that the sight of a naked male gave her hot flashes. And Hank is hung, she noted, staring at the limp penis hanging slack between his legs. And big gonads, too, she calculated. A big-cocked, heavy-balled skinny bastard, she thought fondly, wetting a washcloth, turning him onto his side so he could wash his back. Her hand shook and he moaned drowsily as she ran the warm, wet cloth into the tight pinch of his butt.
She blotted his skin dry with a fluffy white towel and rolled him back. His eyes fluttered vaguely as she washed his chest, his belly. “Go to sleep,” Gina murmured, staring at his limber peter and nice set of nuts.
His peter twitched and his balls lifted as she ran the cloth over his groin, down his thighs. Then she paused, a tightness in her throat, hands shaking. “You asleep?” she asked tersely, licked her lips nervously when there was no response. “Okay, here goes.” She lifted his peter with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, peeled the foreskin back.
“God, I haven’t seen such a young prick in ages,” she muttered, soaping his cock and balls lavishly. Her vision glazed as she dropped the washcloth in the pan of water, aware her hand was slippery-sliding up and down the length of his meat. She knew she was starting to jack him off, but told herself she was merely getting him good and clean, the suds heavy and thick and rich on her fist. And it was very obvious, in his sleep, he was responding to her lascivious touch. He was getting hard and Gina drew an erratic breath. Would it be so wrong, if no one ever knew but her?
She released his cock and stared at the rigid member lying all soaping and gorgeous on his hair-free groin, the head reaching a good way toward his belly button.
“If not one should ever know, would it be so horrible?” she whispered, wringing out the washcloth and clearing up the suds. “Amazing how a kid will stay hard even when his pecker isn’t being touched or played with,” she sighed, fingers twitching with a yearning. “Oh, what the hell—I’ll just play with it a little bit.”
She knelt beside the bed and lifted his big, fleshy bone with her left hand and cradled his bag of goodies in the palm of her right. “Damn, he’s got a double handful of cock and a big sac of stonies.” With a flush of heat in her body, she ran her hand down his pole, pulling back the skin to expose the full glans. She wondered absently whether Hank had had the opportunity yet to dip his pecker in a girl’s twat. From what she had heard about many of the girls in the Pocatello region, it was entirely possible.
She tried to conjure up a vision of her son riding between a girl’s willing thighs. Maybe sucked? she mused. She had heard a lot of girls, afraid of getting into trouble, would go down on their boyfriends instead of letting them fuck them.
Yes, she had heard that a lot of girls got their jollies from sucking cock. Well, it was fun, especially the way she and her ex-husband used to go about their 69’ing escapades. And the taste of cock wasn’t to be pooh-poohed. She kneaded her son’s balls gently and again picked up his hard cock. About eight inches—a little less—she estimated. A nice, tasty-sized prick.
I better stop jacking him off, she frowned, eyes glittering, or I’ll have another mess to clean up and have to wash him down again. Down? Go down on him? Do I dare? How would I feel afterwards? Guilty over having given my own son a blow-job? Why should I feel remorseful about sucking off my own boy? He’s asleep with that darned pill, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it having a bad effect on him. Maybe just a little suck, she pouted. Just a suck and a taste of the head of his beautiful prick.
How could a horse-faced cow like me have such a handsome boy and pretty daughter? She smiled, leaning over Hank and staring reflectively at the big, purplish bulb of cock in her anxious fist.
“Just a little suckee-tastee?” Gina whined, crushing her big, fat tits against the side of the bed as she pushed her long, thin face to within inches of the hot, stony prick in her grasp. “Just a little suck?” She pushed her tongue through tight, pale lips and flecked the tip over the feverish head.
“Uuuuuummmmm!” she gasped, curling and licking her tongue around the plump knob. “Uuuuummmmhmmmmmmm,” she crooned, opening her mouth slightly and savoring a portion of the point of his rocky cock. “Gooooood!”
Her shoulders shook as control and restraint deserted her, and she gobbled in the complete head of his prick, savoring it greedily. And she knew, then, she couldn’t stop. Hank moaned in his drug-induced sleep, and his mother squeezed his quivering balls. She knew, unconsciously, she couldn’t stop with taking a little taste of his prick. It had to be, with her, all or none.
A carnal fever began raging inside her, and she tore at her clothes, keeping the pulsating knob of the boy’s cock lodged in her mouth. She released it only long enough to strip the nightgown off over her head. With a deparved, obsessed whimper, she climbed clumsily onto the bed, the head of his cock back in her mouth. She hunkered lewdly between his legs, mindful of the cast, cupped his balls in both hands, and slowly, hungrily sank her mouth down on his column of flesh, pausing at intervals to adjust to the gouging of prick in her throat.