Chapter 267 Suzanne, You Traitor! [DD Sponsored]

Much Gratitude for Drunk Dargon's Generous Donation. You are like a sunshine in my Cold Winter.

Drunk Dargon [1/3]

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When the phone rang again, she decided that she just couldn't ignore it any longer. She crawled a few feet across the patio to get it. "Sorry, Sweetie. Hold on a sec. It might be an emergency." She sat down on the pool deck and picked up the phone.

He walked over after her, coming up from behind, and began fondling her tits even as he rubbed his boner along her back. He licked at her shoulder blades, loving her sweaty, salty taste.

It rang again and she finally managed to answer: "Hello?"

"Suzanne, you traitor, you..." It was a very angry Susan.

"What's wrong?!"

"You know damn well what's wrong, you, you, you... you backstabber... you deceiver! You're mocking me AND my rules! Alan's 'cleaning job' was just a thin excuse for you to suck his cock all day long!"

Both Suzanne and Alan looked around. (Alan could hear Susan's voice quite well since she was shouting into the phone.) They half expected to see her somewhere, perhaps leaning over the fence, but they couldn't see any sign of her.

Suzanne was too stunned to answer. She knew that Susan very, very rarely got angry, but when she did it was truly frightening.

"Answer me!" Susan finally yelled. "Or are you still too busy sucking his cock to speak?"

Suzanne turned around and pushed Alan away. She was actually relieved by that last question, because it meant Susan wasn't currently looking at them from somewhere across the fence.

"I think maybe we need to talk about this," Suzanne eventually said in a quiet voice, in an attempt to get Susan to calm down.

"Damn right we should! You two get your sorry asses over to my house right now! You... you... fucking cocksucker!" The phone clicked dead.

"I think we're busted," said a worried Suzanne. "I've never heard her so mad!" She was particularly shocked to hear Susan use the word "fucking" in anger, since Susan hardly ever cursed at all, and never used that word when she did.

She began putting her tiny bikini back on. "Pick up your wet clothes. We have to go and face her wrath." At the last minute, as she was walking away, she remembered to take the small vibrator out of her cunt. She walked with her arms crossed over her immense breasts.

Alan didn't know what to say. He felt terrible for having being caught disobeying his mother, so hung his head low.

They walked through the gate that formed the only break in the tall wooden fence between their houses. There were a large number of trees and bushes on both sides of the fence. Because her pool wasn't visible from the gate, Suzanne had thought that there was no way they could be seen. She knew that they hadn't made too much noise, so she wondered how they'd been discovered.

A livid Susan met them on the other side of the gate. She stood in a robe that would have covered her up well enough if she had arranged it carefully. But as she began yelling and pointing her finger at Suzanne, the robe opened wide up top, so that it was held closed only by the sash at her waist.

"Suzanne, I'm so hurt! I'm beyond words! I ask you to keep it cool for two days until Ron has gone. TWO whole days! Is that so much to ask?! But noooOOOOooooOOOOoooo!"

Alan found it exceedingly difficult not to get horny from staring at his mother's massive mammaries as they bounced around. For some reason, her rare display of anger was turning him on even more. He wondered about that, concluding that perhaps it was because she was displaying an unusual amount of passion.

Jesus H. Christ! he thought. My mother was built for lots of fucking. That's all there is to it. How could making love to that body possibly be wrong?

Her anger turned to shock when she saw Alan. He was naked except for the wet shirt and shorts in his hands, which he held out in front of his crotch to provide some coverage.

"Look at you two!" she yelled. "With the clothing you're wearing, I just might be able to cover a postage stamp!"

It was true that Suzanne's bikini bottoms were about as small as they come, and she didn't even have her bikini top with her. But Susan's diatribe about covering up would have seemed more convincing if her own huge, exposed tits hadn't been bouncing around so much, gyrating with every word. At some deep level she undoubtedly was aware of what she was showing, and at that level she wasn't going to lose a chance to compete with Suzanne for Alan's attention. But at a conscious level she was truly unaware of how much she was flaunting, because she'd lately become so accustomed to being naked.

Then she turned her wrath on her son. "Alan Evan Plummer!"

He gulped. He knew it was always bad news when she used his full name.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing, traipsing and gallivanting around outside completely naked? What if someone were to see you? God, your father might be home any time. Or Eric or Brad or the girls might see you. Go to your room. I'll deal with you later!"

Alan knew when to get lost, so he took off like a rabbit. As he ran into the house, he heard Susan yell at Suzanne, "Just what the hell did you do to him all alone over there? Now you can see why I turned down your offer to be alone with him outside our house!"

As soon as he was gone, Suzanne held her hands up in a surrender gesture. "Susan, please! You're right to be angry! I screwed up!"

"Damn right you did! I'm so mad, I'm about to burst!"

"Wait! Before you explode, let me just say one thing: I plead temporary insanity!" That curious statement bought her a little more time, letting her explain: "I didn't mean to be so bad, I really didn't! But Sweetie showered me with all kinds of genuine compliments! My resistance and willpower just went out the window!"

Susan said in a suddenly quiet voice, "What did he say?" She could easily relate to losing control after hearing her son lavish compliments on her.

Chills ran down Suzanne's spine. She'd known Susan for twenty years, but had only seen her truly angry like this a handful of times. She knew from those times that when an angry Susan dropped her voice like that, it usually signified a calm before an even more furious storm.

Suzanne dropped to her knees, striking a completely penitent and defeated position. She knew Susan would never get physically violent, but words ultimately could hurt more than punches. Suzanne's only defense was the truth. "He said... he said... he really loves me!"

"What?!" Susan had no doubts that Alan loved Suzanne, but certain formalities of distance had been established because Suzanne wasn't a Plummer and she didn't want to threaten Susan's role as Alan's mother. Suzanne had been reticent about directly telling her own loved ones just how much she loved them. (Ironically, given what a wonderful, beautiful and confident person Suzanne was, she had a great fear of rejection when it came to love, which was perhaps one reason her previous affairs had all been short-lived.) Susan knew that if Alan actually had said those words, and she had no reason to doubt Suzanne about that, it would have been truly unprecedented.

"Well, not in so many words," Suzanne admitted. "But when I complained about some little signs on my body that I'm growing older, he said, and I quote, 'I love everything about you, inside and out. I even love your imperfections, because they're a part of the you that I've known and loved since I was a baby.'"

That gave Susan pause. "Really? He said that?" She was touched, wishing that he'd say something like that to her.

"He did! And that's not all! He said many other really genuine, kind things as well! How could I not turn into a big puddle of goo? He's my Sweetie, and I love him!" For her to openly confess her love for him like that was also unprecedented, even just to Susan.

Most of Susan's anger dissipated like a rapidly deflating balloon. She was still highly annoyed, but her flash of white-hot anger had passed, thanks to all this heartfelt talk of love. With her arms folded under her exposed, massive rack, she stared down at Suzanne with a hostile scowl on her face. But she asked thoughtfully, "He really did say that?"

"He did. I mean, what if he said something like that to you? How could you NOT drop to your knees and suck his big fat cock like your life depended on it? Kissing just isn't enough!"

There was another long pause. Then Susan conceded, "I see what you mean. He does tend to sweep a woman off her feet and down to her knees, doesn't he? He's just so genuine when he says something like that; you know he means it to the bottom of his soul. If he said that kind of stuff to me, I probably wouldn't be able to stop sucking his fat cock until every last one of his millions of spermies was in my tummy." Her pussy tingled as she pondered that happening.

Suzanne noted, "Yeah, I don't think he even realized how important his words were to me. He was just shooting from the hip, saying what he really felt. But that's not all! Later, he wrote 'I love you' on my back! And I told him 'I love you too!' Today was a real breakthrough day for me. For us!"

Susan nodded thoughtfully at first. "But wait a minute. He wrote on you? With what?"

Suzanne was seriously embarrassed, but explained honestly, "Uh, actually, he used his fat erection like a pen. He was trying to write with his pre-cum, but I got the message more from feeling the shapes he was making."

Susan's jaw dropped. Unconsciously, she mouthed the words, "So hot!" I wish he'd do that to me! Tiger, you can write all over me! Use your fat cock to write "I love you" right across my big tits!

But then her tone grew harsher. "I see. And I'm glad of that, at least. However, that doesn't get you completely off the hook! Sure, I could excuse a nice long cocksuck if he wooed you and wowed you like that. But I've been thinking about it, and I'll bet you were planning on sneaking him over there so you could suck his cock anyway!"

Suzanne stood up, but kept her head bent forward penitently. "You've got me there. You're right. But again, can you really blame me? Imagine you got to spend all afternoon with your cutie Tiger, with both of you completely naked. How many minutes would it take before you were on your knees with his magnificent cock halfway down your throat?"

Susan thought about that, but replied testily, "True, but that's not the point! You're changing the topic. The point is, you tricked me by sneaking off to be alone with him! Pool cleaning, my ass. That was just a thin excuse. Why didn't I see it before? Suzanne, I trusted you! I'd trust you with my life! How could you do this to me?"

That made Suzanne feel really terrible, even worse than before when Susan had been absolutely livid. She knew the trust they shared was a very special thing that needed to be protected, and her six-times-a-day scheme was the first time in many years that she'd really violated it.

She confessed, "You're right. I'm so, so sorry! All I can say in my defense is that I thought Sweetie really needed some special assistance. And who was going to help him today, if not me? You took yourself out of the running, and you said I couldn't even give him a handjob. What was supposed to happen when he got erect? Would you rather that he spent the afternoon masturbating in his room, committing the sin of Onan?"

"Well, no," Susan confessed. "But still, don't make yourself out to be a saint. Your motives were selfish! You just wanted to guzzle down a couple of nice thick loads of his yummy sperm!"

"Guilty as charged. But I can be altruistic and selfish at the same time, at least in this case. That's the beauty of his special medical condition: we get joy from helping him out. Everybody wins."

"Yes, but what about Ron?!"

"What about the fact that Alan hadn't cum a SINGLE time today, so far? Do you want him to completely ruin his average, and have blue balls as well? I had to help out!"

"Maybe so. But you went too far; you blatantly lied to me!"

They continued to argue like that for a few minutes. But it wasn't so tense anymore, because Susan's fury had passed. Still, Suzanne knew Susan would remember this incident for a long time to come, and that made her very sad.