Under thin shelter

The three of them averted parental meltdown by a co-ordinated application of smoke and mirrors. Peter called in a favour from his brother to support the falsehood that they had spontaneously gone to an afternoon showing at the cinema he worked in: Hence not answering their phones. Then it was declared that Mark’s mom had invited them all round for dinner that evening. This was usually a safe call, since her husband had left the hippyish lady had taken to almost demanding she feed them all whenever they turned up. Peter and Stacy sometimes felt a bit bad about taking advantage of her like that, but Mark just shrugged and said she liked to have company. In fact she had even on occasion taken it upon herself to play an active role in a little harmless misdirection, all in support of teenage freedom.

So it was that they ended up three bums on a couch, tucked up together under a thin blanket and full of microwaved pizza. A blaring TV lit up the darkness of Mark’s front room, plastering some grand space epic across their faces. Of course, that was not the main focus of attention for any of them. They had all felt the rising pangs of horniness catch up with them again, even as they politely chatted with their hostess. It was as if spending all day playing with each other had only increased their desire to continue, not sated it. The blanket had been a stroke of genius by Pete, despite it being far too warm to require it. A stroke of genius that allowed for many further strokes. The boys sat, either side of Stacy, slumped back and relaxed. While under that thin covering across their laps her two hands worked overtime.

The one issue with Mark’s mom was she had a terrible habit of constantly and unpredictably reappearing to offer them extra snacks, or ask pointless questions about what they were watching. However, with their backs to the door and in the long shadows of this room Stacy didn’t even have to stop pumping when she did so. She’d cheerfully smile back over her shoulder at the older woman, while continuing to jerk off her son not 3 feet away. Somehow that made the girl all the more horny, despite not receiving any physical attention of her own in return. She loved the feel of throbbing flesh in her hands, the slight rises and fall of solidity in the pillars she held, the hints of caught breaths from the friends either side of her. It all added up to a tense electricity sparking through her, a fluttered beating in her chest, a nervous energy in her muscles.

However, there was one issue they hadn’t really thought about at the start of this endeavor… One that quickly became quite pressing upon Mark’s thoughts, he began to whisper with growing urgency.

“Umm… Stace… I’m going to… we haven’t got any… this is Mom’s favourite blanket!”

Stacy could feel how close the danger was… She didn’t really have time to think, just acting on impulse alone. She dove her head under the loosely woven material, placing a warm, wet alternative between the risk and what it threatened. Whether she was just in the nick of time, or whether that action itself sped up the process, she did not know. However, suddenly her tongue was doused with an overwhelmingly salty flavour. The taste of it rocketed right to the back of her throat, accompanied by a chokingly viscous texture. She fought hard against the urge to immediately gag as yet more of the stuff poured in. The entirely tactile experience, in the close darkness she was trapped in, near overcame all her senses. Yet her ears still picked up the very sound she did NOT want to hear right now.

Mark’s mother’s voice echoed through her muffling surrounds.

“Has your movie finished yet guys? Stacy’s dad is on the phone wondering when she’ll be coming ho- Oh? Where’s she gone?”

The girl with a mouth full of penis froze instantly to stone, refusing to even breathe through her panic. Mark was STILL CUMMING, the last few spurts to land in her cheeks seemingly only spurred on by the pure terror of the moment. After what seemed like far, far too long a silence, she heard Peter’s flat tones coming to the rescue.

“She went to the bathroom. Do you think we could stay here tonight Ms Jay? We were planning on going into town early tomorrow morning and the bus is easier to catch from here.”

“Well I don’t see why no…” The woman seemed to catch an objection from the other end of the line and began to move away to answer it. “Oh, don’t be silly Jacob. They might be teenagers but they’re good kids. You know she can have all the privacy in the world in our spare room, the boy’s won’t bother her. You’ve gotta let them have friends of the opposite sex these days, it’s…” Her voice finally faded behind the sound of a closing door.