Chapitre 223: A Reluctant Corruption Ch. 02
"I miss you too baby," my mother coos into the monitor of her laptop. Her succulent, pink lips purse forward into a convincing pout. Wary of my position on the bed, she keeps the screen slightly askew so that I remain hidden from my father. All he can see is his hot wife lounging against some pillows in a flimsy white shirt and black diamond necklace.
'Ignorance is bliss.'
The bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin make him look older than I'm used to seeing him.
He shakes his head dejectedly. "They keep stringing me along and stalling any talk about the merger... I'm seriously considering just catching an early flight home."
'Fuck.'
I look to my mother.
She bites her lip, deliberately concealing her frustration and maintaining the demeanor of a concerned housewife.
"Do you think that's wise dear? You don't want to insult them by walking away prematurely," she cautions.
My father dismisses her point. "I'm not worried about the blowback. Besides, with everything you've had to deal with lately, you should be begging me to head back."
"What is that supposed to mean?" My mother raises an eyebrow.
"Well since I've been in Italy, your credit card's been stolen, you've hardly answered my calls, and then there's always Jake..." He gives a wry chuckle.
"Jake?" My mother repeats.
"Oh please, Miranda," my father continues. "It's no secret that you and our son don't get along. Without me to mediate, it's only a matter of time till you two are at each other's throats. I wouldn't be surprised if you've kicked the poor kid out already."
"You don't have to worry about Jake and me," she assures, giving a subtle smirk.
'Not in the way you think at least.'
My father mutters something sarcastically, and my mother rolls her eyes.
'She's losing patience with him.'
Turning her face away from the computer, she looks at me. Her sapphire blues flash suggestively down my body. A few weeks ago, the prospect of lying naked in bed with my mother would have repulsed me. Hell, even being in the same room had been aggravating. For so long, she had considered me a major inconvenience; the one person that saw right through her act; the one man she couldn't simply manipulate with a revealing dress or some flirtatious eye contact. But that had all changed at the beginning of summer. The standoffish attitude and spiteful remarks that had dominated her character for years essentially ceased overnight. Suddenly, she was filled with affection for me. I'd say it was as if her maternal instinct had finally kicked in, but that would be understating it. The change was so drastic that I originally doubted its sincerity. I convinced myself that her bizarre behavior must be part of some bigger plan to get me tossed out of the house quicker. And in the end, I was half right. She did have an agenda, but it didn't register to me, until her advances became overtly sexual, that her goal was to seduce me. That revelation alone was startling. But even more shocking was when I ultimately failed to resist her lewd and promiscuous attempts.
For a chilling second, I imagine her twisting the laptop in my direction and revealing the last week to be a horrific scheme meant to turn my father against me. My fear dissipates as she slants forward though, reaching over my nude body to take a bottle from her nightstand. She plants a quick peck on my cheek, and I swallow hard. The proximity of my father's attention makes me anxious.
"Hello??" I hear him say blindly.
"I'm just putting on some lotion." My mother pops the cap and squeezes a healthy dollop of the white cream onto her palm. She smiles wickedly before moving back to the monitor.
"Would it make you feel better if I told you that Jake and I have actually been getting along much better?" A hypnotically sweet, apricot fragrance settles around the bed as she begins rubbing the lotion up her arms, around her shoulders, and down her legs. It gives her olive skin an alluring sheen.
"Well it would definitely surprise me. How'd you two manage to patch things up?" My father inquires skeptically.
'You don't want to know.'
"We spent some quality time bonding with one another," my mother expresses innocently. Her fingers glide nonchalantly across the cool bed sheets until they stop just outside his frame and next to me.
'Don't.'
As my father speaks, she delicately lifts her hand to my stomach and begins tracing my abs with her index finger. Her crimson nails tenderly skim around my navel, producing a tickling sensation. The memory of those nails wildly clawing into my back causes my penis to twitch.
'This is wrong...'
My father continues babbling. Listening to him only makes each moment feel more inappropriate. I glance at my mother, but she's engaged in maintaining the illusion of a normal conversation.
"...it's only a few more days," she relays persuasively. "Go outside, enjoy Italy, don't waste your energy rushing back."
I watch helplessly as her hand gradually descends further down my body.
My father argues. "I'm not here for vacation, Miranda. In fact, watching all the happy couples stroll about is starting to depress me. I know you weren't feeling well before I left so I didn't press it, but we haven't fucked since our anniversary, and I'm going to need some serious relief when I get home."
'Too much information dad.'
"Oh honey," my mother muses, "I can't promise I'll be in the mood."
Her palm runs down my shaft. Gritting my teeth, I grab her disobedient wrist and drop it back onto the mattress. I mouth the word "stop," but as I protest, her fingers wrap around my rapidly growing erection, giving it a loving squeeze. My eyes roll to the back of my head.
"Can't you just... make yourself in the mood?" Appeals my father.
She strokes down to the base of my dick before responding, "You can't rush these things, dear."
I inhale sharply. Her hand, still warm and slick with oil, massages my swollen cock. Somewhere inside me, my conscience desperately fights for air.
I hear my father mumble in a disgruntled tone. "Fucking ridiculous."
My mother discreetly leers at her handiwork from the corner of her eyes. She sucks at her top lip, admiring the teenage cock in her hand. She seems completely immune to the guilt that nags at me. Her deceitful hand begins pumping my dick with methodical perseverance.
I can tell she's getting aroused too. Her shapely, feminine thighs quiver slightly as my prick reaches full mast. She instinctively licks her lips. A bead of sweat drips from my forehead as the temperature around us begins to heighten with sexual energy.
"You sure you're alright? You're looking a bit flushed," my father says peering through the screen at his lust-ridden wife.
"I feel great," my mother replies in a heavy breath. She flips a strand of her dark brown hair from her pretty face.
"I still think you should go in for a checkup," my father continues. "At the very least, they'll be able to prescribe something for your low sex drive."
I clench my eyes shut as my mother increases the pace of the hand job. Her legs clasp together, and the apricot scented lotion starts to blend with a muskier smell that only increases my libido.
"I don't need a prescription baby..." I hear my mother tease.
'I'll second that!'
The pressure of her grip around my, now rock-hard, cock is like a vise.
I can no longer tell what is fueling my inner struggle; the fact that my father might find out, or that each passing second my mother and I are delving further into the depths of depravity.
'How does she stay composed with her husband right there?'
My mother conveys a compassionate smile before reflecting. "It might not feel like it, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Maybe this is exactly what our relationship needs."
'To utterly adulterate it.'
"We could try fooling around right now," my father urges.
I tense as my mother's hand freezes mid pump. She cocks her head coyly. The devilish glint in her eye comes across even sexier with the black eyeliner she's wearing. "We can't baby, Jake's home right now and..."
My father interrupts. "Pfft... Jake's not coming into our room. You wouldn't be wearing that skimpy nightshirt if you really believed he was about to barge in."
"The only reason she's even wearing that is because you wanted to video chat."
My penis jerks in dismay. The warm friction between my mother's still hand is excruciatingly suspenseful. She rebuts. "He uses our shower sometimes."
"Yeah," my father agrees, "but never when you're around. Face it, the kid just isn't a mama's boy, he avoids you like the plague."
"Mhm," my mother murmurs. She gently strums her fingers against my pulsing member, sending tiny shivers down my groin. "I guess you're right dear, it's fair to say I've been a bad mother." Her thighs momentarily squeeze together as she completes the thought.
'Most would say sinful.'
"Don't beat yourself up. Teenagers are notoriously rude and tough to deal with," my father justifies.
'Oh, fuck that. Don't pin my conduct on teenage angst. Not after all the shit y... OH fuck!'
I grimace as my mother starts kneading the mushroom head of my dick.
"They're also very hardheaded," she adds.
My mind begins to fog with hormones again. Only the shame of collaborating in this perverse betrayal of her marriage keeps me from lolling my head back in a state of euphoria. Instead, I fight the impulse to look at her.
"So... how about you slip off that shirt?" My father requests sleazily. His tone irks me. My eyebrows furrow when I realize why.
'Jealousy?'
The notion breaks my concentration and prompts me to peek at my mother. Immoral thoughts course through me as I soak her in. Where many women approaching 40 might let themselves go, giving in to the pressures of stress and aging, it is not the case with her. The priority she's placed on remaining physically attractive is impressive: she eats healthily, utilizes a variety of high-end lotions and potions, restricts her wardrobe to only attire that is worthy of her hourglass figure, and always spends the extra minute in the mirror to ensure that her makeup is flawless. It may sound vain and narcissistic, but it enables her to get what she wants most of the time.
I observe how the light reflects off her glossy brunette hair, creating natural highlights and making her face appear radiant. Her clear complexion would be the envy of any teenage girl. I feel the veins of my shaft pulse precariously.
She lets out a cute sigh before finally responding to my father, "I guess that would be alright." Her free hand reaches for the underside of her top. I can practically sense my father squirm with anticipation. My eyes adhere to the outline of the magnificent melons confined within her shirt. I bite the inner part of my cheek. The fabric does little to camouflage her arousal. Her hardening nipples jut out eagerly. She milks the moment; inching the shirt up her taut stomach.
"Keep going," my father encourages.
My mother flutters her eyelashes mischievously. "Promise to stay in Italy till you have the merger sorted."
"I... I've been trying," my father stammers impatiently.
Her perfect lips curve into a playful smile.
'She's loving this.'
She stretches, arching her back and thrusting her beckoning cleavage closer to the computer's camera. I catch the glint of her anniversary necklace strung above her chest. A yearning to feel her, kiss her, and ravage her, all but overtakes me. I imagine scooping her to my side of the bed, freeing her tits from the thin cloth barrier, and hammering my throbbing cock into her. Knowing that we'd be broadcasting our incestuous union to my clueless father makes the demented thought even more disconcerting.
My precum spurts out, coating my mother's elegant fingers.
'Snap out of it.'
I shudder. It's one thing to desire fucking a woman as pretty as my mother, but to take pride in her infidelity and such deceit...
"Mmmm..." she purrs softly as her thumb and pointer finger lightly pinch the tip of my joystick. My father is too absorbed ogling her ample bosom to notice.
His breaths are labored. He scrunches his face. "Ahh, I promise already. Just let me see them!" There's relief in his voice, yet it provokes me. I feel the green-eyed beast inside me flare its nostrils.
'So, what if he gets to see them? At least he's agreed not to come home early. Be grateful idiot!'
The logic is sound, but the pangs of bitterness persist. It strikes me that, though my father has no direct influence on the taboo relationship developing between me and my mother, his mere existence makes the whole situation more insidious. I had taken his wife in the most intimate of ways. Fucked her repeatedly in their marital bed. Worshipped her body in a way no son ever should. And, I can't deny, relished in the notion of displacing him as the man of the house.
"Come on!" My father begs.
My mother strips the rest of the shirt off in one swift sexy motion, only unlocking her grip on my manhood for a split second to toss the top off the bed. It lands near a pile of other abandoned articles that have been accumulating over the last day. She leans back against the pillows giving me a full view of her luscious body. My mouth waters at the sight of her firm round breasts. Every time I see them, the forbidden delicious assets reduce me to my baser instincts. Smooth, ample, and a bit red from all the attention they've been receiving lately, my cock jolts from the boosted visual stimulation. I reach downward, surrendering to the lust that is my mother incarnate. I'm desperate to satiate my own horniness. I make contact with her hand, which is now tugging at my cock mercilessly. She shoots me a glare. To prove I'm not trying to stop her this time, I fasten my hand to hers, intertwining our fingers together, and dragging them up and down my shaft. Her skin is warm and moist.
She smiles again. The heartbeat in my ears is so loud that I can't tell if my father is saying anything. All I want is release.
'She looks like a goddess.'
Her sun kissed skin, curvy figure, and beautiful perky boobs, permeate in my mind.
"One minute," she says into the monitor.
I can't process much. Her generous breasts jostle buoyantly in my direction as she briskly turns. I'm at the point of no return.
My senses are overloaded. Her face is getting close to mine. "Stop fighting it," she hisses. I feel a force on the back of my head, as her free hand pulls me in. I barely have time to part my lips before they find hers. Their butter soft texture makes my stomach flip. Her tongue invades my mouth. I taste her saliva and feel her hot breath. She tastes sweet and smells sweeter. She friskily nips my tongue and runs her hand through my ruffled hair. The kiss becomes long and passionate. My eyes cloud as I feel the last pump before I finally lose it, thrusting my hips and triggering an epic climax. I erupt, shooting froth all over the sheets. My mother's eyes widen as the ropes of batter splatter her hand. I impulsively groan into her mouth as she continues to coax my rod empty. Her hand is slathered by the time the last of my jizz dribbles out.
Pulling away from our brief make out session, she baits me with a salacious grin, before hurriedly returning to the computer and my father.
She begins to make an excuse for the absence. "Sorry, there was..."
"Is there someone with you!?" Demands my father. "I could have sworn I just heard something."
"I just... spilled some lotion," my mother responds, agilely evading the truth. I watch in alarm as she brings her delicate, cum soaked hand into my father's visual field.
Winded, I stare incredulously as the scene unfolds.
"I thought... well I don't know," my father confesses. His tone grows less certain. "There was some glitch with the stream, messing with sounds and video. A second ago, it even looked like your necklace was glowing."
My mother curls her red tipped toes. She appears more interested in studying the globs of sperm saturating her fingers than anything my father has to say. Her eyes glaze over and nostrils flare as the masculine odor breaches her receptors. She inhales deeper.
"I'm in love with this new aroma," she declares, "it's just so pungent and full of life."
Watching my mother intoxicate herself with my own cum only nurses my ego. Her face glows with a sincere smile, and her eyelids quiver during the intake of each new breath. It is rare, if not completely foreign, to catch her in a state so vulnerable. The pearlescent cream shimmers.
"I can practically taste it," she murmurs, leaving her mouth parted. An uneasiness skitters through me. She blinks, as though mulling over the possible consequences of licking her well-manicured fingers in this instant.
Before she can act however, a bead of my seed trickles from the end of her pointer finger and falls, bullseye, onto her right nipple. It lingers, only to slip clockwise and hover threateningly on the underside of the pink nub, like a raindrop. My mother promptly responds by palming the entire breast with the rest of my cum. She starts to rub the load across her chest and down her abdomen, letting my seed paint her torso.
The sound of a zipper, soon followed by a set of harsh strained breaths, sheds a light on why my father has taken a vow of silence. My mother runs a hand through her hair, guiding the seductive locks behind her shoulders, and tilts forward. She scoops her tits up and presses them together. "Mmm," she whimpers almost inaudibly.
I look down to see my cock hastening to recuperate. My mother notices it too. She arches her back in my direction, while pinching her nipples. My shaft continues to swell when I see her wedding ring. Typically gleaming in recognition of a commitment to matrimony, its luster is dulled thanks to the sheath of fluids spread over my mother's body. One of her hands descends from fondling her boob flesh and settles between her sculpted thighs.
"Yes...uh.... YES!" My father implores.
My mother scowls at the computer. Then her arms fall to her sides and she sits down in front of the monitor, completely forgoing the intense orgasm she had been building to. I can smell her arousal and imagine her glistening pussy screaming in denial of pleasure.
'Why the hell did she stop?'
"Shit. I just remembered I have an appointment in 30 minutes. This will have to wait," my mother snarls.
"You're kidding, right? I'm so fuckin close... You can't just..." my father is at a loss for words.
She cuts in. "I'm sorry honey, we can talk about this later, but I don't want to be late." She snaps the laptop shut.
"Ugh, I couldn't listen to that man another second," she vents.
I'm about to ask if everything is ok, but the feral expression on her face erases the thought. Sliding close to me, she rests her head against my chest and sighs.
"Contrary to popular belief, most devoted wives don't secretly crave for a young stud with a thick prick and dexterous tongue to come whisk them away," she says, wriggling her body so we nestle into a lovers pose.
"You consider yourself a devoted wife?" I ask cynically.
She makes a tutting sound while staring fondly at the tool that had been causing her to squirm in anguished pleasure only minutes before my father's untimely interruption.
"I was..." she contends, while her hand slithers down my thigh.
"So, you'd never cheated on Dad?" I wonder aloud, not sure I want to know the answer.
"No, of course not. I mean... I could have, but I'm not some slut."
She tilts her head to face me when I don't respond. Her silky dark locks tickle my skin. She pouts while gauging my stoic expression. Almost as if to force a reaction, she tenderly blows on my left nipple. I look to the laptop where the standby light blinks judgmentally.
"I know what you're thinking, Jake," my mother reveals.
My eyes return to her supple, beautiful body. The necklace is perched above her heart.
"You clearly weren't comfortable with the Skype call," she says.
'No shit.'
"You were," I pause before continuing, "Like, don't you feel at all guilty?"
She sits up and gives me a furtive glance over her shoulder. A look most sons would feel awkward receiving from their mothers. I gulp.
'Should I take that as a "no"?'
She responds by lifting a leg and draping it over me, flashing her clean-shaven pussy like the femme fatale in 'Basic Instinct'. Her boobs bobble as she pivots and drops the rest of her weight onto my lower limbs, straddling my thighs between her folded knees and sinking me further into the mattress. She looms over me, the hot flesh of her heart-shaped ass warming my muscular quads.
"Your penis didn't-" she looks downward, "doesn't seem to be feeling guilty."
I can't argue with her assessment. Not when my cock salutes with the unbreaking posture of a ready cadet.
'Jesus, I'm as bad as her.'
She scoots up, dragging her slippery inner thighs up my legs and raising to her knees to maneuver over my erection. I instinctively thrust my hips toward her glittery soaked opening in an attempt to foist our genitals together.
"Patience," she scolds, placing her hands on my shoulders and pushing me back.
I make a playful grab to cup her ass. She smacks my hand away.
"Behave," she speaks authoritatively, wagging a finger like I'm a child.
The springs creak as she crawls, slinking up my torso and over my face. The smell of her creamy sex wafts in the air as she positions her pussy directly above my nose. Seeing it up close, the flexible pink and puffy petals stimulate a Pavlovian response, causing me to swallow.
"God, Mom," I utter.
Swiveling around to confront my cock, she gifts me a 180-degree view as she repositions her feet behind my head. Her hand sneaks between her legs where it begins to manipulate the bump above her cunt with her middle finger.
No one knows a woman's body better than herself. My eyes turn to saucers as I strive to absorb each sleight mannerism of her fingertips for future reference. Switching between concentric circles and sloppy cursive, her hindquarters constrict and shudder around my head as her body tenses. Eventually losing any formality, her fingers succumb to erraticism, blurring over her clit with the friction to light a match. She teeters, curves her spine and throws back her hair, parting her beautiful lips and releasing a dulcet sigh. Her hand slows, and she sinuously descends upon me, spreading her petite frame over my lower body.
Now in a classic 69, she shifts gears, clutching the trunk of my cock with her free hand. The blood rush feels incredible. She hunches forward so her pink velvet lips hover perilously above my tumescent prick.
"Now," she whispers. I groan at the feel of her breath. "Let's talk about your father."
'Oh for the love of...'
"Let's absolutely not." I shake my head against the pillow.
I stiffen as she nosedives to my penis. Her plump, glossed lips collide with its tip, converging in a sloppy kiss. A burst of pleasure burns through my loins. She emphasizes the union by smacking her lips together to produce a slutty smooching sound.
"Mmmm," she moans into my cock.
"I love you Jake, and I want us to fill each other's every need."
"Yessss," I manage to grunt. My shaft twitches earnestly.
Between beguiling flicks of her tongue and butterfly kisses, my mother lifts her face from my crotch.
"For us to truly love one another, we have to face the doubts and insecurities that confine this relationship. And it's important we do it now."
'Why is she still talking?'
I reach out for one of her firm, cherry kissed breasts, but with serpent reflexes, she grabs my wrist in mid-air and pins it to the comforter.
"What did I just say?" She asks defiantly.
I tear my eyes from her wobbling boobs.
"Huh?"
"Huh?" she mocks, imitating my inattentive tone. She brushes her hair back. "Let's try this again."
She turns around and repositions herself so that we face each other. Slinking forward, her tits graze my upper body. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. She collapses, mashing her ripe melons against my collarbone.
"Why did you fight the hand job I gave you earlier?" She asks in a mellifluous, yet somewhat patronizing fashion.
'Seriously?'
"Dad was right there! It's a miracle we didn't get caught." I expound.
The thin chain of her necklace brushes my shoulder as she situates herself more comfortably. I feel my rigid pecker trapped beneath a hot cavern of warmth -- the heat emanating from her womanhood.
She tests me, speaking directly into my ear, "And why would that matter?"
"Ha..." I respond uncertainly. "Cause he would totally support being cucked by his own blood. We could tell him we're practicing to reboot the Taboo franchise."
My mother seems to enjoy the thought, rocking her pelvis in approval. A montage of classic incest scenes, of which I only recently discovered, floods through my mind. My face breaks into a childish grin as I imagine reenacting each one with the svelte matriarch on top of me. The more preposterous the plot, the harder my heart thumps in my chest.
She nibbles my ear. "You have to stop thinking of him as your father. He's just a man now. And trust me, he doesn't... he doesn't deserve your respect."
'Ugh, but that doesn't mean much coming from you. You don't respect anyone."
"Mom I..." I feel myself blushing and I hate it. "Having sex with you is terrific..."
'That came out corny.'
"But you are still married, and as much as Dad can be a grade A prick, I don't really want to hurt him."
My mother sits up straight. "How do you think this is going to end?" She asks pointedly.
'We make ourselves new identities, disappear to some honeymoon island, and live happily ever after.'
"I don't know," I admit.
"Wrong answer," she mutters with a slightly sinister vibe. My eyes flick from her mouthwatering neck and shoulders, to her ripe, glowing breasts. Between them dangles the intensely dark diamond. It looks perfect on her.
'No wonder she wears it so often.'
I track further past the nice curve of her stomach to her narrow waist, which gracefully flares out into wide, motherly hips. Removing her shimmering hand from between her juicy thighs, she gently cups my cheek. Before long, our lips are plastered together in another strong kiss. My infatuation with her sensational sweetness is as strong as the first time we frenched. As our mouths mesh and tongues twirl, I feel my penis break free from under her body. She notices too. Pushing me away, my mother takes a deep breath before twisting around and squatting on the pillow behind my head, facing my erection. The headboard creaks as she rises to her knees and positions her love over my face.
'She's drenched'
I stare up at her pouty, slightly parted lips. Warm liquid drips onto my nose and I reflexively touch the entrancing syrupy sap. Moving down to all fours, her voluminous boob flesh rakes against my abdominal muscles as she gradually inches closer to my pecker, like a savage predatress creeping towards prey.
I can barely process her words.
"Now, I'm doing this for your own good, but I can't let you free from this bed until I'm convinced you've purged your father out from the recesses of your young mind."
"Whaahemphh," is all I can cry as her vagina lowers onto my face.
"That's it, baby," she says soothingly, as her pussy lips spread over the sides of my mouth, effectively muffling me with her smoking, plush buttocks.
'Is this a fetish to her?'
She undulates into my face, and my nose tickles her taint.
I breathe in her rich honeyed scent.
"If you're not willing to face your father when he gets home, do you expect me to rush back into his arms?"
'Of course not. I just don't want to think about it right now!'
I try to answer, but it only comes off as a growl.
"I said I'm not letting you go until you understand," she responds.
'Understand? Fuck this. Two can play this game.'
Burying my warm tongue into her snatch, she trembles as I begin to conduct an oral exam. Her nectar liberally oozes down my cheeks as I penetrate her hole in search of the key sensitive areas. The exquisite texture and smell is so familiar, so right. I can't help but wonder whether a dormant portion of a son's brain will always be fastened to their mother; as if my expulsion so many years ago from this frothy pit was only supposed to be temporary.
The thought drifts away as she begins speaking. "You heard him on the call, when he gets home he will have his grimy paws all over me."
Her voice sounds hoarse and less controlled. I rub my chin against her clit causing her to lurch and shudder.
"Uhhh... and you'll have to watch... oh mmm," she sputters and clamps her legs hard around my cheeks. I lap away at her fleshy slit, intent on immersing myself with her sex, and filtering out her disturbing dialogue.
"Every time he decides to make a public display of affection; when he kisses me before work, or rubs my back, or eye fucks me."
'Shut up, shut up, shut up.'
"Perhaps you'll even be walking by our door one night and find yourself listening to the reverberating melody of our lovemaking," she torments.
I groan and blow into her fiery cunt.
She moans softly. "That feels nice... ohhh you're making me cream all over that handsome face..."
My mind is swimming much like my tongue. Her exposed gash is numbing my cognition, making it difficult to tune her out.
'She knows what she's doing. Every mention of my father is another dagger, goading me into renouncing him, so that when he gets home I won't pussyfoot around the issue or feel bad for him.'
"Would you rather have your father as a friend or me as your woman?" She taunts darkly.
Somewhere in the haze, the old me curses at how, after a childhood of seeing my mother use her sensuality to exploit and sway, I would eventually succumb to the same fate. The thought lingers ominously, but then I flashback to the day I found her molesting herself on the bed. While I had stood paralyzed in panic, transfixed to her body as she shuddered in submission to the ecstasy of her lust, an incestuous seed had been planted, a spark that could never be stifled out; an infection that could only be nursed by the forbidden. And it was in that moment my mind had begun its conversion. It didn't matter how much I struggled. Each time I saw her, or even thought of her, the more undone I became. Even had she not used her skills as a seductress to catalyze the reaction, I would have eventually surrendered. Once she had festered into the roots of my desire, I didn't stand a chance.
The unbearable thought of losing her stamps into my consciousness as she begins to suck on the barrel of my rod. It's the consuming satisfaction of having her stain my thickness with her wedlocked mouth, milking out my potent and virile love for her. I roughly wrap my arms around her hindquarters and lodge my tongue deeper into the clutching depths. My hands glom on to her perky butt cheeks and I squeeze the soft flesh, sinking my fingers into the crevice from both sides.
'I need her to cum before me. I need it to be concussive. I need her to believe I won't just let her go; to prove that our revelry has not been in vain.'
There's a rumor that high school girls don't give good head because they don't have enough experience. I haven't found that to be the case. Girls like Jenny or Rachel, my ex-girlfriend, never left me with any complaints. However, they are clearly no match when likened to my mother's talent. She's insatiable. Not providing a second for me to build up any modicum of endurance.
The lurid slurps and ministrations coming from her tongue against my glans synchronize with the cadence of her hand strokes. Further and further she plunges until her lips reach the hilt of my shaft, not even gagging. Her hand shifts to cradle my balls as if to assure the proliferation of bubbling athletes that they will soon be free.
'If I don't do something I'm going to cum.'
I do the only thing I can think of; I spank her.
"Uhhhh," she gasps, temporarily abandoning my cock and relinquishing control. One of her hands flies to where I just slapped her.
"You son of a bitch," she huffs, yet commences to oscillate her hips.
'Time to take care of business.'
Soon, she's grinding her pussy and grunting with unbridled enthusiasm, as if trying to erase my face and sand it down into the perfect dildo.
I feast on her faint flavorful essence of her girl cum, breathing in deeply, and allowing the sticky blend of sweat and feminine lust to lather my face. She tremors above me before returning to my crotch, but I'm prepared now. I reach for her breasts, which squish enticingly against my abs at a steady tempo, while she bobs and sucks my appendage. Our 69 peaks with our bodies fused together; my tool stuffed down her gullet while my tongue spears heroically toward her womb. She stalls, as if paralyzed. One last flick of the tongue is all it takes to send her into a fit of spasms. They turn into convulsions when I relocate her clit and nibble it with my lips.
"Aaahghhawddd..." she lets loose a half moan, half whine.
In charge, I use her current incapacitation to my fullest advantage.
I hug her trim waist and roll us over so I'm now the one on top. She makes a weak attempt to flip us back, but I subdue that quickly as my fingers take over for my tongue. Her face contorts as I move my thumb in tiny circles over her clit. Her eyes close as she arches against the bedspread, tits protruding like two weightless spheres.
'It almost looks like her necklace is pulling her, levitating her beautiful body closer to me.'
I slip two fingers into her warm cunt. She bucks, face grimacing into a lustful sneer before expelling a loud sigh of satisfaction. Where my hair is matted and wet from exertion, hers is barely tousled. And where her makeup has smudged slightly under her eyes, it only makes her look more erotic.
I crawl up to face her.
"You're twisted," I say, grinning.
She clamps her legs around my hand, limiting the full penetration of my fingers, and props herself up with her elbows.
"I want you to be twisted with me," she says impishly.
"But why does Dad matter so much?" I ask, still whisking my thumb against her privates.
"Because..." She grits her teeth, fighting off a tiny orgasm to finish her thought, "because he'll be home in less than a week, and I need to know you're not going to just... forget about this."
Her voice wavers. "I've risked a lot to try and fix our relationship, and if I don't have your support when your father returns..." She dips her head, trying to find the right words.
"I'm not used to letting in all these emotions. I haven't "loved" in a long time... not truly." She looks back at me, and I'm surprised by her contrite, doe-eyed expression. "But I love you Jake. And if you feel the same way then you'll understand."
Her hand involuntarily fidgets with the silver chain of her necklace.
"I..." But I cut myself off. No reply really makes sense to me. All I can think about is how harshly I've been judging her for so long. How much effort she must have put in just to get me to see her differently. And I had taken it for granted. The shame of falling for her, the penitence I felt for my father; it was just my stupid mind not evolving fast enough to understand that I was focused on the feelings of the wrong parent.
'I love my mom, and love supersedes all.'
The quietness between us challenges me to say something.
Instead, I lean in to kiss her. Not some raunchy kiss powered solely by lust.
This is gentle. We meld together for a minute, coddling each other in an amorous embrace. As I recline, her lips move to my chin, then my cheeks, nose and forehead. The flurry of feathered impressions on my skin is so nurturing, it startles me how turned on I am.
"I love you too, Mom. And I don't want to share you. So, if that means telling Dad when he gets back... then ok."
She gives me a quick heartfelt smile before snickering and rolling her eyes.
"Relax Jake, I wasn't actually suggesting you tell him about us. Can you even imagine? That would break him."
'Probably.'
"But then what are you saying?" I wonder out loud.
She stretches her neck to one side, causing her hair to spill over her shoulder. "When he gets home I'm going to ask for a divorce. And if he's nosy..." she adds nonchalantly, "I'm going to admit to having an affair behind his back."
She elevates her left hand and inserts her ring finger into her mouth, locking her eyes to mine. Gripping the jeweled band with her teeth she leisurely strips it from her thin finger, then spits it off the bed. I hear it land with a dull patter.
"So where do I come in?" I ask cautiously.
"You just have to play along." She wipes my hair away from my eyes, resting her hand under my chin. "Act normal. Don't overthink it. Hopefully, your father will move out and we'll have the place to ourselves."
"You think he'll let you keep the house?"
"He won't have much of a choice. Everything's been transferred under my name." She looks away disparagingly. "Our attorneys heavily advised us to transfer our assets after he nearly capsized the business." Her tone is level, but it's obvious she's still pretty raw about it.
'Switch the subject.'
"I don't know, Mom. I hear living on campus has its perks. Plus, gas is expensive," I tease.
"Well," she plays along, "living at home can have its perks too."
"Yeah?" I loom over her, drinking in her slender curves, creamy thighs, and stunning breasts. The type of breasts that prove a world without objectification is impossible. My heart races.
"This isn't a museum, you can touch them," she compels.
My palms approach her boobs with almost virginal aspirations. Simply touching the warm billowy orbs makes me envy every C cup she's ever strained them into. The log between my legs feels heavier than I'm used to.
'Must be all the extra stimulation.'
My mother's long eyelashes flicker down my muscled midsection. She starts chewing her lip when she notices my cock.
"That's soo good," she emphasizes, while I fondle her mature flesh as it yields naturally between my fingers.
I twist one of her engorged pink nipples and tickle the other.
"Oh, just come to me, already," my mother hisses, wrapping her arms around my head and tugging my face to her breast. I latch and suck like a man dying of thirst. My tongue swirls over her areola. I frantically try and memorize every unique brailed bump. Her skin is humid and tastes salty. There is still a whiff of the apricot lotion, which reminds me of the naughty Skype call. My hand mauls her other breast while I graze her teat with my teeth.
"I know I don't tell this to you enough as my son... but you have a great ass," my mother gushes, her hands run down my bare back.
"Ditto," I reply, coming up for air. In haste, I bend to kiss her other breast, but miss by a little, instead connecting to her sternum.
What the...'
I feel something poke my forehead. I look up.
'Oh. The necklace. It's so... bright. Like invitingly bright. It surely wouldn't look as good on any woman but my mom. Has it always sparkled like that? Been so vivid? I should kiss it.'
The instant my lip's touch the diamond necklace my penis spontaneously slaps against something very wet.
"Fuck me!" My mother screams, humping the air between us.
She throws her head back in torment.
"Fuck me!" She repeats. This time reaching between her legs and spreading her labia wide. Her needy, thrumming orifice pings my cock like a missile.
I take her by the hips and steer my tip through the inner lips of her leaking cunt.
"Stop playing and put it Hnnngghhh!!" She yells, as I plunge headfirst into her slippery channel. Although it's not my first visit, her lubed walls are tight, having yet to conform to her new partner's extra thickness. I force myself to flex so that I don't explode then and there. It doesn't help that her overheated pussy greets me with several illicit contractions. But I dig onward, excavating the effervescent pit and savoring the blistering sensations of my muscle scraping against her hypersensitive tissues.
"Careful baby, Mommy wants to be able to walk tomorrow," she quips when I get 6 inches in.
'Just... a little... more.'
I watch her distended slit slowly engulf the final inch of my penis.
'Fuck flying, give me X-ray vision.'
I study her quivering flat belly and try and imagine how my cock must look, rooted within her inner sanctum. My body drives forward and bottoms out.
This triggers my mother's mouth to open wide and take a sharp breath.
"Ohhhh... keeep moving!" She demands, arching her waspish waist in anticipation. Veering back, I pull out till the tip of my cock barely penetrates the hot pink folds of her leaking vag. Then, using more force than I intend, I ram my dick back home. Our flesh smacks together and her ass ripples with energy.
"Fuck!" I shout, grabbing her hips and roughly slamming into her a few more times before steadying my tempo.
My mother looks at me through misty eyes. The slapping of skin against skin fills the bedroom as I lose myself in her jiggling breasts. She throws her arms back and grips the sheets so hard her knuckles turn white. Again and again, our bodies come together like magnets. Her legs gradually splay, spread eagle, into an open V. I seize her toned calves for leverage and impale her.
She shrieks but continues matching my thrusts as I remorselessly fuck her. I fixate on details of her pretty oval shaped face. The high cheekbones, creased eyebrows, flared nostrils... The way her dark eyeliner has smeared to give her a smoldering sultry look. It's the same face that berated and chastised me growing up. The same face as the petulant bitch who tried to send me to boarding school just to get me out of her life.
'Agggh!'
An animal stirs inside me. I begin hammering her twat relentlessly. The onslaught of childhood memories sends me into a rage.
'Every time you'd turn Dad against me, Every time you selfishly made everything about you, Every stubborn showdown, Every argument you caused!'
I'm grunting and puffing like a brute. My cock feels numb as I fuck harder than I've ever done before. The suction of her pussy is so strong that it feels like I'm drawing her inside out with every stroke.
"Ohhhh Jakeee!" She writhes below me between frequent grunts. I let go of her legs and bend forward, to get ahold of her bloated tits. She bends her knees around my sides and hooks her ankles behind my ass.
'Take it! Take it!'
The bed creaks violently.
My mother's eyes are half lidded. She babbles in gibberish, but I can still make out the occasional "yesss," as I saw away at the drooling hole between her legs.
'She's getting close.'
When her lower limbs start to buck, she wriggles her hips right and left, using my dick like a corkscrew. I don't pause for her climax, but after her eyes roll back she grabs my arm.
"Wow," she says breathless.
I pull her to me. We coil together; her legs and arms wrap around me. She rests her head over my shoulder and I enjoy her boobs against my chest. She bites and kisses my neck before whispering in my ear.
"Flip me."
I lift her slim frame until my cock dislodges with a squelching pop. Strands of her pussy ooze dribbles from the dome of my cock.
I test my biceps, spinning her around and pushing her back onto the bed.
She lands on her chest, arms out, and bootie arced to me. Her unblemished back slopes down to her narrow shoulders, where her caramel colored hair fans out saucily.
She shivers as I run my finger between the two beautiful globes and turns her head to look at me fish eyed.
I hunch over her, burying my full length back into her vagina. It must be the new position, because my dick glides in like a knife in warm butter.
'Holy mother of GOD!'
We both groan in unison. I fall on top of her and kiss the back of her neck.
"Fuck me hard like before!" My mother cries over her shoulder. I try and channel my anger again. The passionate fury that had led me to start crushing her womanhood senseless.
'This is for being such a narcissist!'
I begin humping her like a dog in heat.
'This is for making my life miserable!'
She grins and her eyes glow with fireworks.
'And this is for being such a terrible Mom!'
I pull her forearms backwards, hoisting up her upper body, and stretching her back and forth like a slinky.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She yells, lubricating my penis with a constant shower of her cum.
"Pull my hair!" She begs.
I let go of one of her arms and grasp a bundle of her soft hair in my hand. I wrench it back, but not severely enough to actually hurt her. She starts spasming. Her red toes curl.
Her mouth gapes open in silence. I can feel my own orgasm quickly approaching as my stamina dwindles. Each strike of my balls is a futile reminder that my warrior effort will soon come to an end.
"I can't handle this much longer!" I yell.
"Fill me, baby," my mother gasps. Her body has already slumped and resigned to enjoy the final chaotic thrusts.
I holler loudly, feeling my girth swell one last time. The crescendo of the teenage cum forging through my shaft and past the slimy walls of my immoral mother's tasty pussy, burrowing far into the inner ducts, and making itself at home, almost knocks me out. The torrent of our fluids mingles and leaks out all over the bed.
I give a few last half-hearted stabs before crashing limp.
"What got into you? That was incredible," My mother eventually says between pants.
"I just needed to work some stuff out," I concede, my deflated cock still corked in her.
"Whatever it was... I love you," she whispers.
"I love you," I repeat softly.
Waning to exhaustion, we drift off naked in a cooling pool of our own love.
*****************
For a moment, all stand hushed. Hundreds of graduation caps rustle in the air as families, who wish to congratulate the latest batch of scholars, weave into the sea of students. I scan the blur of people and spot a few familiar faces. My friends are huddled together in conversation, most likely conferring about Cady's party later. Rachel and I make eye contact, her cheerful demeanor lighting up her face. I feel a twinge of guilt.
"She was never right for you," remarks a voice from beside me.
I turn to find the source. A gray-haired woman, wearing a loose floral tunic with moccasins looks toward the sky.
"You..." I say baffled. Her steel eyes reflect the moon and stars.
'Am I dreaming?'
"Yes and no," she replies apathetically.
"What the fuck!?" I stumble backwards and trip onto the grass.
She sighs, breaking her gaze with the heavens, and places her hands on her hips, arms akimbo.
"I must confess, when you scrambled out of my shop so quickly I wasn't sure if you were beyond saving."
I stare at her in sheer confusion.
"The relationship linking you and your mother was in such a splintered state... the only hope was in Jocasta's Stone," she reminisces.
I slap my cheek hard.
'Wake up, wake up!'
Her forehead furrows, displaying lines of age and obvious dissatisfaction with my behavior.
"Do you not realize how lucky you are?" She glowers with impatience. "So few boys ever experience the full extent of their mother's love."
A deafening thunderclap resonates overhead inducing a chill down my spine.
'Creepy old bag.'
She crinkles her nose and chuckles. "Not exactly the thank you I deserve."
I wince. "Why would I thank you?"
The old crone raises her index finger over my shoulder. I follow the weathered digit through the mob of proud families until my eyes land on a distinct figure. It's my mother.
'Fuck me.'
"Isn't she just ravishing?" The old lady hisses.
I gulp, which does nothing to calm the butterflies in my stomach.
"Do you not regret the insolent-juvenile way you used to think of her?"
"I... uh..." Struck speechless, my male brain flounders and my mouth goes dry.
My mother looks as covetable as ever. Her unfurled brunette hair cascades to her shoulders, framing her face in a fascinatingly seductive manner.
"And that dress..." she eggs on.
My pupils dilate with hunger.
'I would have remembered her in that.'
The slinky, burgundy red dress, the same color as her lips, clings snug to her physique; maximizing and accentuating her best attributes, while awarding her the postured poise of a model. It's so low cut that the V neckline doesn't restrain her full bust, exposing side bystanders to a thrilling bit of skin. And the way the material handles her ass, it may as well be shrink wrap. But by far, the dress' most dazzling quality is its high leg slit, which reveals her smooth, tanned leg all the way up to her hip.
"Admit what you're thinking, admit what your body has been saying for the last minute," the gray-haired woman whispers.
As if on cue, the bulging tent in my pants twitches.
"Aghh, I think it's pretty fucking obvious!" I shout into the thin air, but no one seems to notice.
"Oh child," the woman speaks in a more caring tone. "You've come so far already, I just need to be sure."
"Be sure of what?" I inquire begrudgingly.
She frowns and nods toward my mother.
I'm surprised to see my father has now joined her.
He gives her one of his obnoxious winks right before swooping in to kiss her. She doesn't push him off, but pulls him in.
I slam my eyes shut only to feel the shop lady's hand gently pat my back.
"You're going to have to fight for her. Jocasta's Stone introduced you both to what's possible, but soon you'll need to prove yourself worthy of such a life."
I scrunch up my face, keeping my eyes closed. "I'm done with this! Go spew your cryptic bullshit somewhere else! Get out of my dream! Get out of my head! Stop telling me what to do! Leave me alo...'
My eyelids peek open a sliver. Disoriented by the dream and the fact that it's not yet day, it takes me a second to get my bearings. My mother and I are lying parallel together in a spooning position, my hand over her belly and my unyielding erection still housed cozily within her. The obscene amount of cum that had bubbled out of her stuffed pussy hours ago, has now congealed and crusted into the sheets. Her inner thighs are streaked with white ribbons of my spunk, and a strong musky odor has overtaken the room.
"Mmmmmm," my mother croons, as I stretch one of my legs.
"Mom?" I kiss the nape of her neck.
"Shhh baby," she murmurs soothingly. Her bright fingertips range up my thigh, shaving my testicles to the base of my cock. They stop at the junction that conjoins us.
"I thought I'd get used to how good it feels in me," she wiggles her rear end, nudging my cock further into her sperm flooded pathway.
"I thought..." she takes a heavy breath. "After our first time, the itch in my pussy would ease up." Her ass now succumbs to muted gyrations. The moist skin of her bare back smooshes against my ribcage.
My hands run up her flat stomach and tweak her prominent nipples.
"But I feel different. The ache is even crazier now." She shoves her ass back into my lap, and vigorously grinds my cock deep into primal territory.
"Uhhh!" I grumble. Holding her close, my hips begin to hump back in retaliation. The bulbous crown of my cock perforates her, meeting little resistance.
Each swing delivers a blaze of pleasure. The noise of our lustful passion, a mix of slapping flesh and throaty cries, rings into the night.
Craning her neck, we kiss roughly; teeth nipping at each other's lips, tongues dueling and wrestling for command. One of her palms settles on my butt, urging on its momentum while her vaginal muscles grease and siphon the welcome intrusion.
The room is beginning to feel like a sauna, and our bodies like two scorching coals. I blow on my mother's back.
"Ooooh Jacob," she rasps. Her whole body vibrates in a spastic frenzy as she comes.
A scarlet glimmer illuminates the dim room.
'Cell phone?'
I look over her shoulder, halting mid plunge.
The diamond necklace has slid under my mother's smooth armpit. It isn't reflecting light, but generating it. I stare at the irresistible color, almost powerless to look away. Suddenly my cock balloons to an almost painful level. Both my mother and my eyes bulge in astonishment.
"Oh my..." is all she can whisper before I begin to shoot canons of semen into her womb. The air in my lungs soon depletes as I scream. The torrents of jizz plaster her already painted walls, filling her to the brink, and then over, as our juices explode from of her stressed gash. She throws an arm around the back of my neck, holding me, kissing my forehead, guiding me through an earthquake I'm completely unprepared for. We clutch and spasm in the rapture of our indiscretions.
"You need to pull out baby!" My mother begs. I barely register her voice through the thumping of my heart. Yanking my mushroom head back is like breaking a vacuum. There is a phenomenal popping sound, followed by the rush of cool air that caresses my penis. My mother, saint that she is, descends to finish off the monster orgasm I'm having.
"Sorry," I groan, as a wad hits her chin when her fingers contact my sizzling meat pole. She smiles broadly, circling her hands around the trunk and rim of my cock. With little time to waste, she leans her face forward, and drags her bottom lip up and over my penis hole. She opens her mouth wide and pushes her pumping hands down my cylindrical length. Her flat tongue nudges my hole, and covetously licks away at our leftovers, salivary glands working overtime.
'Baseball, Turtles, Retirement Homes.... Don't CUM!'
After a few coughs and gags, her cheeks are fitting my cock like a snug jacket. She sucks away, puckering her lips tightly to help compress the air. I lightly push the back of her head as she bobs. She seems engrossed in taking my full length. Her hands slide over my waist until her fingernails dig into my ass. She slackens her jaw and forces her mouth all the way to my crotch. She looks up at me in triumph.
"Aglflwlalw!" She tries to speak.
Seeing her like that is too much. I unleash the rest of my jism down her esophagus. She squeals, eyes rolling back. Her palms press hard into my ass.
'That's going to hurt tomorrow.'
Her tongue flails to secure some of the precious drops before they dribble down her throat or out her mouth. She continues to suck, cheeks hollowing while she chugs down the last of my potable protein shake. Having leeched all reserves, my dick shrinks to normal size, and she spits it out.
We fall back on the pillows, completely bushed.
'I've never cum that much in my life.'
"Mom, your necklace..."
I turn my head, but her eyes are already closed in slumber, my cum still drying on her chin."
***************
Wednesday
'Water.'
I stagger to the refrigerator and finish off half a gallon before plonking down on one of the kitchen dining chairs.
Head in my hands, I massage my stinging temples.
'Who knew sex could give you a hangover?'
Daylight shines through the window and bounces around the metallic room, forcing me to squint at the stove clock. It's 12:24PM, which explains why my mother, a religiously early riser, was not in bed when I awoke from my coma.
'She was probably showered, primped, and dressed by 9.'
Aware of my own need for a rinse, I forgo breakfast, much to my stomachs chagrin. The walk-in shower in my parent's bathr... soon to be my mother's bathroom, fills with heated vapor.
I turn the spray on high and dunk my head under the tap. My hair flattens in front of my eyes as the nozzle dowses me in a sheet of water. The only time my skin has ever felt so muggy was after nine innings on the field. But instead of dirt and grass, today I'm washing away the coital residue of an unfaithful marriage.
'Dad is going to freak when he hears the word divorce.'
A cluster of handprints litter the steamy glass barriers surrounding me; a not so innocent leftover from the night before last, when I accompanied my mother into the shower.
There was nothing holy about the way we'd christened the room.
Overstimulated and brimming with euphoric confidence from our first coupling, my attitude had turned brazen. I recall grabbing her ass and hoisting her up against the wall. She squealed like a school girl as her arms and legs possessively snaked their way around my neck and waist. Her face knotted as I pinned her there, shoving everything I had into plugging the fissure, which already carried a dose of my sloshing ejaculate. Like now, droplets of water ricocheted off my back as I ruthlessly screwed my mother. She heaved and threw her palms against the glass like suction cups...
The memory clears, leaving me hot and erect.
'Wonder where Mom is.'
I make the rest of the shower quick.
After toweling off, I toss on a black t-shirt and cram my stiffy into my boxers.
My shorts do little to hamper the projecting unit. I press down on the tent, but it just springs back.
The dry air in my parent's bedroom is seasoned with the strong smell of sexual secretions. Stepping over a discarded pillow, the messy floor and unmade bed of tangled sheets and blankets bears little resemblance to the normally tidy condition.
Snatching my wallet from under the dresser, I stow it in my pocket.
I trek back through the tiled hallway. The sound of a cupboard closing leads me into the kitchen. My mother is standing over the sink, back turned to me, rinsing a dish. Almost immediately, the tent in my pants reestablishes itself with cemented conviction. My eyes rove up and down her tantalizing profile.
Her clothing, a sleeveless violet blouse pitted with a gray pencil skirt, fits her like a second skin. It cuts off at the knees, tastefully exposing her beautiful legs and feet, which are encased in three-inch, navy blue heels. Her chestnut hair, groomed to stun, spills luxuriously down to her petite, bare shoulders. I chide myself for all the mornings I intentionally lagged in my room to avoid running into her before school.
'Fucking idiot.'
Crossing the kitchen to stand behind her, her skirt rides up a few inches as she slants forward to set down the glass. She jumps as I slide my arms around her waist.
"Jake, don't sneak up on me!" she exclaims, whipping her head around.
"Sorry mom, you just look so hot all dressed up." My hardness prods against her buttocks, bunching her skirt up where her ass cheeks part. She slouches back, granting me access to kiss down her neck.
"Well I guess I should have known the risks of wearing a close-fitting outfit in front of such a strong, healthy boy." She sways and pulls my hands to the underside of her breasts. I cup the fabric encompassed flesh; my fingers traveling over the soft mounds. I feel her tiny round nipples extending through the blouse.
"No bra?" I ask, pressing down on one like a button.
"Not exactly," my mother responds. She raises her arms, signaling me to help her remove the top. I oblige wholeheartedly and pull it over her head, unveiling a scanty, white lace brassiere.
She spins and leans back to the counter, curling her fingers over the edge. The light streaming through the window highlights her in an angelic aura and causes her necklace to twinkle brilliantly. From her smoky, blue eyes and ruby, tinted lips to the sheer swathe of white lingerie that barely manages to accommodate her copious assets, words fail me.
"Well?" She bites her tongue.
I boost her up onto the countertop and smother my face into her masked bosoms before she can tempt me further. She spreads her legs wide, testing the limit of her skirt, and hooks her talons into the waistband of my shorts. I kiss the valley between her breasts, up to her clavicle and neck. Her skin tastes faintly of citrus, and I suck at it fervently.
"Come on..." my mother's fingers work anxiously at unbuttoning my trunks.
My hands coast up her thighs and underneath the gray half-dress.
"Tell me, baby. You gonna fuck me? Are you going to fuck your mother?" She foments.
I feel my pants loosen and then drop to my ankles. She grabs my cock through my checkered boxers.
"Yes," I growl. My thumbs fasten around the thong molded to her muscular ass. I pull it to her knees. It's the same make as the silk bra, except much damper.
"Say it!" She insists, yanking my boxers down.
"I want to fuck you," I reply, sliding my middle finger into her dripping cavity.
"Where?" She takes my penis again and rolls her thumb over its hole.
"Against the cabinets... Over the table..." I grimace. "Everywhere in this house."
A plume of precum greases the helmet of my dick. I huff and shove another finger into my mother's cunt. We meet each other's eyes. Hers flash with wanton anticipation.
"Kiss me," she beckons, heels pressing into my ass.
Our mouths seal together in a savory union of subversive housewife and willing son. Her fruity lip-gloss bleeds over my tongue as I nudge her lips apart and lick the inside of her cheeks. Losing myself in the moment, my fingers boisterously piston within her pussy with little regard to how hard her grip tightens around my broad shoulders. One of her pumps clatters onto the floor. She cries out, breaking the kiss, and jerks her hips forward so that her skirt slides under her butt.
'I need her now!'
I kick my pants and boxers across the tile. My mother uses the moment to tuck away a few errant strands of hair from her forehead; an ironic reflex considering her immodest pose, legs parted and flashing her bare pussy.
"I don't get what's happened to us," I state seizing my cockhead and teasing her slavering pit.
"But it hardly even feels wrong anymore."
My mother glows with pride as I wedge my rod back home; her thick nipples popping through the meshwork bra as we begin to fuck.
"Do you feel how wet I am for you?" She professes.
I pin her against the wall, ramming my prick between her outstretched legs and into her welcoming pussy. She mews like a feline as the pressure builds in her womb, her sexy ass beating rhythmically against the drywall.
"You feel so good," I reply, tugging the lace bra down under her breasts and copping a feel.
She wraps her limbs so tightly around me that I can feel her belly quiver against mine. Her eyes roll back from the rough pillaging of her temple. I continue to nail her, spreading her cunt wider, until my knees begin to shake. Her head slumps over my shoulder. Driving back into the clasping channel, I take a step back, careful not to lose my balance. She clings to me as I carry and deposit her on top of the wooden table.
Releasing her hold, she knocks over a bowl flopping back. I straighten my posture, pulling out of her grasping pussy.
"Don't!" She relents, swiping at my cock but missing.
I push my hand between her thighs and start thumbing her clit.
She braces herself on the wooden surface, while I flick madly at the little piece of flesh. Soon she's gurgling strings of monosyllables between haggard breaths.
Then her body goes rigid. My eyes pan over her exposed form, from her sensuous camera-ready waist to her motherly hips. I dip my cock back into her snatch. The combination of my youthful meat mixed with a clitoral orgasm floods her senses. Her disturbed countenance strews across her face, eyes clenched shut and mouth open. I slow my strokes just to watch her.
Her eyes open yet remain stagnant, gawking down at her own breasts. Tilting my head, I see why.
'Not again.'
The radiating diamond seems to mesmerize her.
"Why does it do that?" I blurt out.
My mother rubs her hands over my pecs but does not respond.
Suddenly, the velvet soft walls enveloping my cock compress like a steel grip.
The snugness of her creamy innards is almost too much.
'Is she trying to strangle my cock?'
"Fuck... me," my mother implores unsteadily.
Grabbing her by the hips, I pound my maleness into her womanhood. The table rattles in conjunction with every thrust into her slippery gorge. Her tired legs lay draped over the edge of the table, rocking to the cadence of our passion. I surge to the finish line, channeling the last of my adrenaline to shove my penis into her steamy trench and empty my balls. The delirious look on her face summons my seed from the deepest part of my soul. A salvo of cum erupts from my cock, spraying her womb with streamers of tiny swimmers.
Reeling and utterly zapped, I stoop to a knee and enjoy the music of my mother's soft breathing. No words are spoken while we wait for our energy to replenish. Her body lays lax across the table, except for one hand, which steadily rubs her sated pussy.
***********************
"Someone worked up quite an appetite," my mother observes while I scarf down the remaining scraps of toast and scrambled eggs from my plate. She gingerly crosses her legs in her seat. Though our clothes are a little creased, and her top is a bit uneven, there is nothing about the current setting that would trigger an alert to any earlier transgression that had taken place.
"It's really good," I acknowledge.
She rests her arms on the table. "I think you were just famished."
"If you keep making meals like this and that dinner last week, I might get spoiled."
She grins. "I don't mind spoiling you with food. After all, you've been the one filling me up the last couple days."
I cough nervously. "Wow, not the same thing."
"Well," she inspects her nails. "You don't know how overloaded my vagina felt after waking up to that massive wad of semen sloshing around my womb."
"...Or how sore and horny I've been all day," she adds in afterthought.
"I'm 18, I know how it feels being horny all the time." I point out.
"Well you certainly do surpass your father in that regard."
"Must be why you don't cook for him." I kid.
She takes a sip of her beverage. Having cleared my plate, I watch till she places the cup down before asking the real question on my mind.
"Mom, is there something I should know about your necklace?"
Her eyes, cool like the night ocean, percolate with interest.
"I don't know where you found it, but it's very special to me," she says.
'Obviously, you never take it off.'
"But it's kind of eerie... I mean don't get me wrong, it looks great on you. Just, I've never heard of jewelry glowing during sex," I remark.
She nods. "It does have a proclivity for intimacy."
"It's an inanimate object, though," I persist.
My mother remains steadfast.
"Isn't it?" I swallow.
She breaks the suspense. "Honey, I don't have all the answers. All I know is how I feel with it on."
"How you feel," I repeat underwhelmed.
'This isn't going anywhere.'
"Free," she replies crossing her arms. "For the first time in forever, I don't feel trapped under the weight of work, your father and his stupid decisions."
"How does making a sex tape or turning your son toward incest have anything to do with freedom?" I ask.
"It's changed so quickly. That first night wearing it I was so tipsy and overwhelmed with the idea of showing my body off to the camera. And when I woke up the next morning it was like someone else was talking for me. I heard myself lie to your father about feeling ill, but when he left for work I slipped into something comfortable and felt amazing."
"That's it?" I press her.
"Well I made some coffee and tried to preoccupy myself with chores around the house, but my brain just wasn't having it." She blushes and looks away from me.
"What?"
"I started getting these thoughts." She emphasizes the last word. "It was the middle of the day, and there was nothing to do. I went to my room and suddenly this urge to pleasure myself took over."
She covers her mouth with her hand. "I haven't masturbated in years, but my emotions were all a jumble. No matter how much I touched myself I couldn't climax. Not until I started getting these visions of your father."
She shakes her head. "Not sexual, just the image of him stuck at the office while I finger myself at home. It felt good, like I was putting him in his place. I pictured other men I find attractive, flipping through their faces as if they were in a magazine. Even that lost its luster as the minutes drifted by, and my mind began to wander back to work and chores and then you."
'She was thinking about you the day you walked in on her.'
"It was infuriating, having built up a giant orgasm only to have your son come smashing into your thoughts. I would have given up right then and there but my hand, for some reason my hand wouldn't stop moving. I tried pulling it away, but it only dug in deeper, which caught me off guard. And for some reason you were stuck in my mind. I was compelled to think about how uninvolved I've been in your life this year. The more I came to regret my role in the animus between us, the quicker my fingers seemed to strum, and the harder it was to deny myself."
"I blacked out imagining you catching me in that position," she finishes.
'Which is exactly what happened.'
"Wipe that look off your face. I'm not exactly proud of how it went down." She taps her foot against my leg.
"If it's making you do things you don't want to do..." I start.
"Oh, you're sweet. But that's not what I'm saying at all," my mother reassures me. "I've felt more alive in the last week than I have in years. Don't you feel it too?"
"I just want to make sure you're not like, possessed or something." I say half joking.
"You know you're very cute when you're restless," she teases.
"Were you serious about the divorce?" I ask.
"Yes. I even talked my attorney this morning while you were sleeping. And that reminds me..." She stands up and departs the room, only to return a moment later holding a medium sized cardboard box in her hands.
"Didn't have time to wrap it," she says handing it to me.
"Thanks," I reply before using a kitchen knife to cut the tape.
I see the logo first, which makes me smile.
"I figure you needed a new one after the water incident." My mother explains.
***********************
It only takes me a few minutes to activate my new phone, but it takes a few hours to properly thank my mother.
Having the house to ourselves, we capitalize on the lack of restrictions, fucking in front of the family room flat screen TV until my ass burns from carpet friction. We flip positions. My tongue licks up and in between the folds of her labia before burrowing into her pussy.
"Oh, sweetheart!" She cries and shudders as my nose brushes her clit.
I welcome the break from her intense blowjob.
'She has a throat designed to extract cum.'
Her gluttonous appetite wins out eventually, and I buckle. She moves my cock to one side of her mouth, so that her right cheek bulges out, and sucks me like a straw. Her other cheek expands to accommodate the yield of thick discharge, but some of the diaphanous liquid escapes, dribbling down to my balls. She waits till I'm finished jizzing before disengaging her lips and lapping up the gooey, leaking leftovers.
Later, we move to the laundry room. While the washer load is set to ultra-spin, I send another load deep into her as she perches above the vibrating mechanical bull. Then it's to the garage where we squish into the front seat of my father's leased BMW. The horn goes off twice, but we manage to purge the vehicle of its innocence after a half hour of sweaty twister.
Even being 18, and an athlete, I'm amazed by our endurance.
I don't know if it's the necklace, or that during every break my mother switches into new lingerie, (my favorite being the Red and Black Babydoll outfit), but the more we go at it the faster I seem to recharge. When we do pause for a brief cool down session, we end up talking openly about things we never have before. The honesty between us is still as foreign as the sex, but the more we share the worse I feel for judging her all these years. She tells me about plans she had when she first married my father. By her description, she never wanted to be the responsible one, she wanted to enjoy her youth. Little by little though, the high school sweetheart she married made it clear, through his mistakes, that she was going to have to take the reins to keep the family afloat. She prods me about my past relationships. I talk about Rachel and a couple other girls from school for a while. Then we cuddle, and I admit I'm gaining respect for my mother as a woman.
With every copulation we're growing closer and it's more than just sex. The evil bickering force I had learned to loathe was a fiction. What I had really fought with was a woman trapped in a miserable life that she didn't deserve.
***********************
'It's been an eventful day.'
"Ummmph!" My mother squeals through clenched teeth.
She squats down, back to me, sinking onto my girth.
"I love your cock!" She yells at me over her shoulder.
"It loves you too," I project while feeling the heat of our conjoined crotches. I lean in and kiss the back of her neck. Her jasmine perfume is toxic.
She starts to bounce on my lap. After a minute she yells again.
"Are you ready?"
'Ready as I'll ever be.'
I reach around her back and give her boobs an affirmative squeeze. She immediately kicks up the pace. My legs take the brunt of the force. The weight of her body starts smashing down on my lap repeatedly. She grips the armrests of the chair to elevate each bounce further up my dick before letting gravity do its job. Her knuckles turn white with stress as her magenta nails claw into the seat fabric. Her vulva repeatedly swallows my searing cock. She lets out a piercing scream at the sensation of being stuffed so quickly.
'It was her idea.'
"No foreplay, just sex this time. I want to finish you off with a hard fuck." She had said wearing only a silver halter neck bra and beige pumps.
Her brunette hair, somehow always sexy, whips my face as she continues to stretch her pussy on my rod.
She springs up again, but stalls so only the crown of my shaft remains rooted in the entrance of her cum repository. I hear her take a deep breath.
'She must be tired out.'
"Ohh Mom!" I groan as she forces herself down on my skinflute, twisting her hips to completely screw me into her tight, warm hole. Her pussy flexes around my buried dick and contracts like a hand squeezing a tube of blocked toothpaste. The voracious desire of her clenching vagina is too much to handle. She gyrates and urges me to flood her canal.
Crying out, my glans burst, spouting hot liquid, bathing her with, what feels like, every morsel of my being. She milks the load from my twitching cock.
"That's it baby, that's it, cum for mommy!"
A string of monosyllables and unintelligible words spill from my mouth. I think I actually say "mommy" at one point, which is a little embarrassing.
She turns and cups my face, lifting it toward her, and we lock eyes as she absorbs the last of my offering. Then she kisses me lightly on the lips.
"How could something this wrong feel so good?" I ask as we fall back on the sofa.
My mother licks my jawline up to my right ear and whispers. "It's never been wrong or filthy or bad..."
"What would you call it then?" I hold her tighter.
'Her skin is so soft.'
"Raw... objectively steamy... it doesn't need a fucking name," she gives me another sloppy kiss, pressing her ember lips hard against my cheek. Then she gets up, lifting off my fading erection.
"Hurry! Clean up, we have dinner soon." She sashays away. Just like the first time we fucked, I feel a huge burst of pride seeing a healthy dose of my semen spiderwebbing from her womanhood down her legs. She doesn't seem to mind at all.
***********************
We call in take out for dinner. My mother showers and puts on a low-cut tank top and jean shorts.
"What's with the formal attire?" I joke.
She squints at me but smiles. "I'm not answering the door in that." Her head tilts in the direction of a yellow thong and matching bra that have somehow ended up in the middle of the hallway.
"Speaking of which. I called a maid service to come in at 9 tomorrow to clean. This house can't look like this, especially the bedroom, when your father comes home."
'It's not like he's going to be staying here, right?'
I role my eyes. "9 is so early."
"I'll set an alarm," my mother states in a don't push me tone. "He could be back as early as Friday."
"Okay," I reply, raising both hands in compliance.
I finally decide to sort through the mass of missed messages on my new phone. Most are from Reece and Greg, asking if I'm dead or if I've heard about Cady's Second Summer Blowout on Friday.
'Her parents must be gone for the whole month.'
There is also another missed call from my ex-girlfriend, Rachel.
'Wow. That's like four times now. Why is she still calling?'
I shake my head.
"How's the phone working?" My mother inquires.
"Awesome. It's even waterproof."
"I sent you a picture for the background," she remarks.
"The one of you changing? I already saved it in my photos."
She lowers the shade above the sink.
"My friends are having a party Friday night, want to be my date?" I ask with a straight face.
"No thanks. I'll be busy breaking up with my husband," she responds.
Her lack of remorse turns me on.
'Or maybe it's just her legs... or the way she smells...'
"You should go." My mother turns to face me. "It'll make my job easier. I might even be able to convince your father to go to a hotel while the paperwork is filed. And once you're back from your little shindig, we can celebrate. Does that sound like a good plan?
"Celebrate like today?" I express hopefully.
She bites her lip deceptively. "Tell you what. When you get home, meet me in your room, and I'll let you do anything you want to me on that shabby twin bed of yours."
"Can't we just do that after dinner..." I suggest.
"I think we've had enough fun the last few days, but a little patience can bring about a lot of pleasure," she reasons.
'No thank you.'
"Jake, think about it." She senses my resistance. "You have the stamina of youth, but I've been draining you like a leach. I want to see how angry that thick monster becomes after two days of forced celibacy."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone