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Beverly Hills 90210 Part 1: Mrs. Walsh Enjoys Dylan
by Anon

Mrs. Walsh opened the door and was shocked and very happy to see her
daughter's boyfriend. Brenda was out, but she invited him in any way. Always
happy to see his young handsome face around the house, she brought him into
the kitchen and began talking to him, neglecting to mention Brenda was
probably gone for the afternoon. So was her husband and son. All were off
doing other things, leaving poor Mrs. Walsh home alone to fend for herself.
She had been doing just that too. She had been doing laundry when she
accidentally bumped against the washing machine. Remembering times past, she
began masturbating on the machine in minutes. Her shorts were around her
ankles, panties askew, fingers working their magic when the doorbell rang.

Reluctantly she climbed off the washing machine, zipped up and went to the
door. Five minutes later she was sort of happy she had. Dylan had jogged over
to the house and he was wearing a tight T-shirt and short thigh hugging
shorts. Mrs. Walsh had never found his body very appealing, always wondering
what her daughter saw in the boy, but with a sheen of sweat and a tight pair
of drawers, she could see what got Brenda going. It was getting her going
too. Soon she was locked in the dilemma of talking to the boy for hours or
finding a way to get him out the door so she could masturbate about his young
body. She felt a bit perverted thinking of her daughter's boyfriend that way,
but she had fantasized numerous times about her son's friends.

"Mrs. Walsh, I'm really sweaty, is there any chance I can borrow your shower.
I don't want to stink up your house."

Her heart leapt at the thought of the boy naked in her house. Why shower, she
wondered. She liked the way he smelled right then and there. But she also
liked the idea of letting him use the shower though because while his shower
was going, she could entertain herself. She led him to Brenda's room, telling
him to use her shower. She returned to the bathroom with towels, hoping to
catch him shirtless and he was. Unlike her husband, his body was still very
firm and almost hairless. Mrs. Walsh felt a warmness in her loins and she
hurriedly excused herself, beelining for her room where her shorts and undies
fell and her fingers played their magic.

After her orgasm she passed by the room, noting that the shower was not
running anymore. She suddenly realized the poor boy had no clothes to change
into. Although his running around naked was a fine idea from her point of
view, a seventeen year old naked would get her in major trouble. She grabbed
some clothing from her son's room and knocked on her daughter's door. There
was no answer, figuring he would have the bathroom door closed, she opened
the door and stepped into the room.

He didn't have the bathroom door closed and Mrs. Walsh saw more of Dylan than
she had expected. He was standing over the toilet buck naked, his right hand
jacking himself off. With the door open she could hear his moaning and the
music coming from Brenda's stereo. He had been so into what he was doing, he
hadn't heard.

She stood aghast, mouth open, her free hand dropping to her still moist
crotch. He was so into what he was doing, his teeth were bared and he had
bent slightly at the knees, his hand moving more quickly. The phone rang and
Mrs. Walsh let out a yelp of surprise. Dylan twisted suddenly, his hand in
midrub, his face registering shock and shame. The clothes in her hand fell
and she looked from him to the phone and back again. Dylan stepped away from
the toilet, his hand still wrapped around his tool. On the fourth ring the
machine downstairs picked up the line and the two stood still in silence.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Walsh. I don't know-" he began to say but she moved forward,
crossing into the bathroom and kneeling down before him. Pushing his hand
aside, Mrs. Walsh rubbed her hand up the length of his long stiff penis. Her
lips formed and oh and she tongued the pre-come, loving the taste. She hadn't
given head since her husband's birthday five months before but within in
moments she was back at it.

Dylan groaned his approval and leaned his head back, loving the sensation of
Mrs. Walsh mouth sucking his dick. He was so turned on it was unbelievable.
The pit of his stomach was beginning to hurt as his orgasm neared. He
couldn't believe his girlfriend's mother was blowing him or that it was so
much better. Unable to control himself anymore he warned of his climax but
she kept sucking his dick. That turned him on more considering her daughter
always pulled away, making him shoot it in the air. He pumped his load into
her mouth, spraying the back of her throat.

Mrs. Walsh swallowed every drop, knowing it turned guys on. She didn't like
the taste much but from her years she had learned guys like to get off in
women's mouths. Upon finishing his orgasm, she continued tweaking his dick,
wringing out more come. She even went so far as to pull it from her mouth and
rub him off more with her long thin hands, licking off the residual come for
him to see.

Leaning back on the carpeted floor, Mrs. Walsh undid her belt and Dylan
obediently dropped between her legs. Without a word, he pulled her shorts and
panties off, noticing the wetness and thinking the blow job had caused it.
His mouth went to her bush, slurping at her vertical smile. Mrs. Walsh
groaned her approval and began playing with her own breasts as Dylan sucked
her pussy. She hadn't been eaten out in years and he brought her to climax
quickly and easily a few times.

By the time Dylan finished eating her out, Mrs. Walsh's top was off and her
bra was askew. Dylan moved up her form, stopping to suckle her breasts. As he
did, he felt. Mrs. Walsh's hands begin jerking his penis. Five more minutes
and he was again rock hard, dying to fuck Mrs. Walsh's dripping cunt.

With a solid shove he was in her and their bodies were one. Unlike Brenda,
Mrs. Walsh was not a loud fuck and that left Dylan to do most of the grunting
as he manhandled his long tool deep into her. Her jerking body and kneading
hands kept him going, while her long thin legs, ankles crossed, pushed him
on. He finally came, depositing his seed in her with one mighty scream. He
collapsed onto her body, their sweat commingling as they panted.

Feeling a bit ashamed, she crawled out from under him and showered in her
own room. When she stepped out, he was standing there, offering to towel
her off. Declining the invitation, she wiped off her body and wrapped the
towel around herself, confusing Dylan with her sudden bashfulness. She passed
him, mentioning they should get dressed because Brenda could be home soon.

She bent to retrieve her shirt and felt his hand pat her exposed snatch. Mrs.
Walsh unintentionally moaned. Straightening up, she looked back to see him
standing behind her, his hand still between her legs. With his free hand he
tugged her towel down. The cool air caused her nipples to harden more. Dylan
slid to his knees, his lips kissing her tiny ass. Still rubbing her moist
pussy with one hand, he used the other to separate her ass cheeks, his tongue
probing her rear. Mrs. Walsh groaned again, loving the sensation. She hadn't
received a rim job since college. He tongued her asshole for a while, while
his fingers tickled her clit. She came long and hard.

Before realizing it, she bent at the waist and demanded, "Fuck me from
behind."

Dylan was shocked by her language and by the suggestion. Standing up, he
grasped her thighs and pushed his hard-on into her slick trench. She grunted
loudly, as his tool slid into her. She was so well lubricated that he quickly
found a fast rhythm, and their bodies crashed together.

"Wait a second," she demanded, straightening up and forcing him to bend his
knees. His cock slipped from her dripping bush, but he held fast to her hips.
Clutching her, his lips kissing her neck, Mrs. Walsh could feel Dylan's
manhood trapped against her ass cheeks. It felt like a thick pulsating pipe.
His hands slid around her body, roughly squeezing her breasts, while he
rubbed himself against her. "Let's take this to the bed."

Releasing her, Dylan followed Mrs. Walsh to the bed. They climbed onto the
bed together, Dylan's body draping over hers. He guided himself back into
her from behind, Mrs. Walsh moaning her approval. Kissing her back as he
rocked his pelvis into her, Dylan thought he was going to spooge any instant.
Brenda had never done it standing up with him and only once had he spooned
her like this. Grabbing Mrs. Walsh's thigh, he rocked to his side some and
she followed suit, keeping him in her. He glanced up at the floor to ceiling
mirror across from the bed. Mrs. Walsh's teeth were bared and her body was
covered in a sheen of sweat. As he thrust and she matched him, her small
breasts jiggled wildly.

"Slow down," she commanded, "I don't want you to come too fast."

He did as she ordered, slowing to the point that he was barely moving his
prick in her box. Wrapping his hand around one of her breasts, he tweaked her
nipples, while kissing her neck and ear. Soon even that was too much and
Dylan found himself increasing the tempo to the point that the king size bed
shook mightily. Her moans began to become audible and he joined, the two
keening loudly. With a huge grunt, he deposited his third load of that day.

    

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