บท 737: JUST A THOUGHT
It happened out of nowhere one day during a workout session. In retrospect, I suppose there had been signs before. It must have started about the time I hit puberty. It was around then that I developed a knack for finishing other people's sentences. Not everyone, and not all the time, but every now and then I would get a weird sense of deja vu when someone close to me spoke and I would ask, confused, "Didn't you just say that?"
But this was different. It was as if my mind were a radio left on during a really long drive through the desert. Most of the time there was just static, with a sudden burst of sound from some stray radio wave every once in a while. On this day it was like coming in range of the relay tower. The DJ came through loud and clear and the message they had changed my life forever.
I had finished school a couple of months ago and deferred my college application. My parents wanted me to follow in my dad's footsteps and become an engineer. They had pestered me and hired tutors and did everything possible to make sure I got the marks I needed to get into a good college. I had done all they asked, got the marks, barely, and was all set. Then I balked at the last minute.
I wasn't sure I wanted to be an engineer. So my dad had given me one year to decide. I was supposed to be doing internships and working menial jobs that would prove he was right and then meekly go into my engineering degree. But, what I really wanted was a year just to have fun and be free of people ordering me about and telling me how to live my life. I just wanted to have control of my own life.
I was in the garage, benching 185 pounds as my warm-up. My academic life may have been in the doldrums, but I was determined to take my already athletic body up to beast mode. The door was open to let in what little cool air there was and I was building up a pretty healthy sweat. I was about halfway into my set when I heard a moan. I paused, thinking I had just imagined it. It sounded like it was right inside my head.
Then I heard a voice say, "Good God, look at his arms."
The strange thing was I recognized the voice. I ought to, I had been hearing it since before I was born. It belonged to my mother.
I shook my head and raised the bar again for another set.
"I remember when Jeff had arms like that. God, I loved having them wrapped around me..."
I stopped. This time I was sure I heard her voice, there was simply no mistaking it. It cut off abruptly as I slotted the weight back into the bar catchers and sat up.
Sure enough, there was my mom, standing by the entrance to the garage, holding a large glass of iced lemonade. Her expression was oddly guilty, a hint of color tingeing her tanned complexion.
"Oh. Hey, mom," I cleared my throat and then, giving her an enquiring look, "Did you say something?"
She smiled her 100-watt smile. It was an incredible smile. It was a well-known smile, her face beamed down from dozens of billboards all around town, promising to sell your house for a lower percentage than the competition.
Having shaken off whatever was on her mind, she replied, "No dear, I just got here. I wanted to know if you would like some lemonade? I was making some for the PTA meeting at Laurie's school. I have a quick session there before I have to pick her up from cheer practice at 4. But it's such a hot day I thought you might like some too, so I made extra."
"Yeah, that's great, Ma," I said, slowly, turning my head from side to side as if I might be able to see around her to whatever weird trick she was playing on me. I had definitely heard her voice, but what had she been saying?
I studied her closely. She met my gaze for only a moment and then looked down. I saw her pull in her lips and shift her weight. It was so unlike my mom to show any crack in her self-confidence. I was completely perplexed.
My mom was an incredible woman. I got my workout genes from her. Only just in her forties, she had the whip-taut body most twenty-year-olds would kill for with a fullness in her bust and backside that only maturity could bring. She must have been heading out for a midday gym session because she was looking incredible in a pink tank top and black yoga pants. These clung to her shapely body and emphasized her remarkable physique.
Unfortunately, I had not inherited her work ethic. While I spent my life trying to do as little work as possible she was a full-time mom who ran her own real estate business. She was successful enough that she could choose hours that suited her best, giving her time off during the day to work out, run errands, as well as drop and fetch my sister from school.
I often wondered how she did it every day and still looked as immaculately turned out as she did. I shook my head, my dad was a lucky guy.
"Shit!" She said.
I snapped my head up from where I had been admiring her generous hips, lost in my reverie. She had said that so loud it sounded like she was shouting in my ear. It was so unlike my usually composed, utterly unflappable mom to swear.
"Shit! He saw you, Toni. Your son fucking saw you checking out his body and now he thinks you're a total fucking psycho."
Although her face remained largely expressionless, I could see her eyes darting nervously beneath her dark lashes. Her lips had not moved the whole time she had spoken.
"Mom?" I asked, confused.
"Yes, dear?" She replied in a completely different tone to the one I heard before. It was much smoother, far calmer. More like the mom I knew.
Then I heard the other voice again, "Oh God, he is looking at you. He knows. He knows, you dirty whore. He is going to see how you look at him and he is going to be horrified. Your cunt is dripping wet just from watching him work out. What if he looks down and sees your lust leaking through your tights? You're not wearing any underwear, you dirty whore."
I rose up off the bench, my mind spinning, trying to figure out what was happening. I did not look down, though the effort to resist was almost painful. If I did she would surely know I was staring at her pussy.
Moving with more confidence than I felt I picked up a towel I had laid close to hand and dabbed the sweat off my shirtless torso. I needed to buy a moment to think while, at the same time, watching my mom out the corner of my eye, trying to figure out her game.
"Are you okay?" I finally queried, when I sensed the silence becoming uncomfortable. She still stood proffering the glass, now dripping with condensation.
"Fine dear, why do you ask?" Her face was smooth again, her expression bland.
Was what I heard before really coming from her? It sounded like it was being played on a speaker, but inside my head. It was her voice, but at the same time, it wasn't. Sometimes it sounded like more than one voice. Was this a prank? It seemed completely unlike my mom to pull a stunt like that, and the words being said were just insane.
"Stay cool, Toni," I heard her voice again, while her face remained locked in its smile, "Just look him in the eyes and smile. Don't look down to his chest. Don't look down. Don't see his abs. Oh, God! His abs."
I was only a couple of strides from her and I stopped. When I heard that last part I watched her eyes drop down to my abdomen and then back up. Did she just lick her lips?
Realization was dawning on me. Was I really hearing my mom's thoughts, or was this some kind of hallucination? Maybe I was about to have a stroke. I sniffed the air to test if I smelled burned feathers. I wasn't sure that was actually true for strokes or, for that matter, what burned feathers smelled like.
I decided to test out my emerging theory.
"Hey mom, random question. Think of a number between one and ten."
"Seven?" I heard a questioning reply. Again, there was no sign that she was speaking.
"Marlon, what are you playing at?" She was flustered, I could see that now. My mom was always pristine, from her perfect quaff of thick dark hair to her unblemished skin and precisely manicured fingernails. She was the MILF archetype, and I had never seen her face a challenge she did not master with a smile on her face.
Until today.
But then, I would not have known anything from her expression. It was that voice, and it was getting louder and more insistent. Now that I was so close to her I could hear it muttering constantly. It was mostly random and indistinct, but I caught the occasional word or phrase. Things like:
"He's too close."
"Even his sweat smells good."
"You're his mother!"
"Slut!"
"Slut! Whore!"
Shaking off the tumult of voices I asked, "Was it seven?"
"Honestly, Marlon, what has gotten into you?"
I damned her composure. I had to know if what I was hearing were really her thoughts.
"I wish you would get into me. Shut up. Slut!" The confused other voice snarled.
"Was it seven?" I repeated.
"Good guess. Stay calm. Get out of here. You need an intense workout and a cold shower. Wipe out these thoughts of Marlon taking charge of you, ordering you to... Stop it!"
Her actual words were dismissive, "This is silly, Marlon. Do you want the lemonade or not?"
I felt sure it had been seven from her evasiveness. I had to press further, "How about between one and a hundred. No. One and a thousand."
"734, what you got on your Math SAT. Just enough to qualify. You nearly killed me, making me drag your lazy ass all the way to the finishing line."
Aiming for coolness, she replied, "No, Marlon. I don't want to play games now. Just take the damn lemonade" I could see she was getting worked up though, far too worked up for just being bothered by this silly game.
"He's so close. I could just touch him. I'm his mother. I can touch his arm. Maybe his chest. No! Stop it! This is wrong!"
I ignored the chattering voice and probed, "Was it 734?"
"What?"
"The number you guessed?"
"Marlon," she sighed tiredly.
"Was it 734?" I was insistent. I had to know if this thing was real. I took her by the shoulder and held her.
"Oh, God. He's touching me. He's so forceful. If he just slid that hand a little lower and across... Toni!"
"Mom?" I gave her a little shake.
"Yes," she hissed.
Her other voiced yelled, "How the fuck did he guess that?"
A thrill surged through me. If the voice I was hearing was really hers then she was thinking dirty thoughts about me. Nothing like as dirty as the thoughts I had of her every time she was in my presence, but still. I adjusted my stance so that I was even more in her personal space. Her large breasts were just an inch from brushing my sweaty chest.
I scrutinised her face, trying to get final confirmation. This was like having my wildest fantasy confirmed. Feeling the intensity of my gaze, her eyes lifted slowly. They flicked nervously to the side before finally settling to stare deep into mine.
"He knows!" The voice wailed, "He can see how you lust after his teenage body. How you want him to take you and have his way with you without fear of consequence. He's your son! He's your son! He's your son! Dirty whore."
"Mom, it's okay.." I began, hearing a huskiness enter my voice.
"I have to go," she stammered and reeled back a step.
"I have to... here," she put the glass of lemonade down on a worn and chipped workbench at the entrance to the garage. The surface was uneven and her hands were shaking.
As she turned to run away from me the glass rocked violently from side to side. The momentum of the sloshing ice and liquid magnified the motion and before I could move the glass tumbled off the workbench and dashed itself on the cement floor, scattering glass and ice chips.
My mom half-turned at the sound, but seemed to be too preoccupied to deal with it, "Just leave it," She ordered, "I'll tidy it up later."
And with that she ran down the path and up into the house, slamming the door behind her.
I shook my head, staring at the mess at my feet. I looked from that to my hand, which still bore the residual warmth from her shoulder. Had that really just happened? If it had, then why had it happened? I had no idea why at that moment I could hear my mom's thoughts so clearly.
"Holy shit," I thought, "My mom wants me."
It was a little while later, after I had used an old broom and a dustpan to tidy up the mess in the garage, that I finally went back into the house. Lifting weights was suddenly very far from my mind. I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. Something had happened out there. Something that was too close to the fantasies I've been having since I was twelve.
My thoughts more in order, my resolve hardened (along with my cock) I pressed the remote to close the garage door and stepped into the house.
I found my mom in the kitchen, apparently she too had given up on her work out. She was standing under the air conditioner with her backside resting against a counter. She had her eyes closed, clearly relishing the cool air, and a glass of lemonade held to her chest, just below her neck. Condensation from the glass had run down the bare flesh above her top, following the curve of her big tits and slithering into the valley of her cleavage.
I licked my lips, imagining lapping the cold water off her skin. With the conditioned air blasting down on her and the cold glass held to her bosom, I could see the bumps of her nipples pushing out against their lycra prison.
I watched her cautiously from the doorway, straining my ears, or whatever it was I had heard her thoughts with before. I could hear nothing.
I held back then, still wondering if the whole thing had been my imagination, or if it had been some freak cosmic event that had now passed. Either way, that cold lemonade looked good and my mom could not avoid me forever.
I cleared my throat as I stepped into the kitchen.
Grey eyes flicked on with the intensity of a pair of high beams. They zeroed in on me and I saw the barest flutter of her eyelashes.
"Got another one of those for me?" I asked tentatively, keeping my distance.
She shifted her weight, her plump backside remolding itself around the edge of the marble counter. She looked like she might be searching for an exit. Finally, after a long hesitation, she nodded towards the fridge.
I approached her carefully, like I would a wild creature, picking up a glass off the counter and moving to open the fridge.
"Mom, are you okay? You seem, I don't know, a little distracted." I hedged as I poured myself a glass from the fridge.
I saw her force her full lips into a smile, "It was nothing, Marlon. I was just being silly. It must be this heat." She fanned herself with her hand. I was so alert to her now I caught everything and magnified it in my mind, even the slight jiggling of her big tits as her arm wafted through the air.
I had to take a big swig of the lemonade to stop myself biting my lip. The liquid was so cold it burned its way down my throat, the tart sweetness only hitting me a beat after I swallowed. It was delicious.
I wanted to lick it off my mom's tits.
Whatever I had heard earlier it had taken the faint desires I had for my mom, bundled them up into a tight ball and detonated them like a grenade inside my head. My mind bore permanent scars from the encounter I would never be able to erase. It seemed every part of it was embedded with shards of her memory.
I watched her eyes continuously, seeing how they glanced down my body.
"He hasn't put a shirt on."
"There!" I thought, "That was the voice." It had started up again as soon as her eyes had traveled over my body.
"God, I want to feel those muscles. He looks so hard. Like he's carved from wood."
I grinned knowingly at her then, taking another big gulp of lemonade.
"What?" She quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me.
"Nothing," I shook my head as I sidled closer to her.
"Marlon, you're acting very strange today."
I was close to her now, close enough to breathe in her scent of honey and wildflowers.
"Why does he have to be so gorgeous? He's your son, Toni. Not only that but he's a jobless layabout. You can't be attracted to him. Please just forget this. Think of someone else. Think of anyone else. Think of your husband. His father. Oh God, Toni, you are definitely going to hell!"
I was right in front of her now. Her hands twisted on the lip of the marble counter nervously. I heard the clink of her over-large diamond engagement ring on the stone. I stood in her path now, she was completely hemmed in. There was no way past me without making a scene.
"Marlon?" Her voice came out soft, pleading almost.
I raised a hand and touched the silken wing of her dark hair. Her lips moved but no words came out. I knew the risk was insane. The risk of approaching any girl like this had low odds at the best of times. But, your own mother? In any conceivable real-world scenario the odds had to be as close to zero as made no difference.
But I wasn't a normal person that day. I was someone who had been gifted the winning lottery numbers from on high. I knew I would regret it forever if I did not play them
I heard her inner voice shriek a million indistinct nothings that amounted to little more than blind panic.
"It's okay, mom," I breathed, my hand brushing her face, my thumb tracing her high cheekbone.
"Oh fuck!" Her inner voice screamed, "Oh fuck! Is this a come-on? Is your own son coming on to you? This isn't happening, Toni. It's not. Abort! Abort! Get the fuck out of here you dumb bitch. I don't care if your legs have turned to jelly, snap out of it! You are not in love with your son. You are not!"
"It's okay," I soothed, leaning in close and cupping her lovely face in my palm.
"Is he leaning into kiss me? He can't be. It's not possible. He's your son! But his lips look so soft. You can't! Maybe just one kiss? One innocent kiss won't hurt. Do something, Toni. Do anything!"
I moved slowly, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded as I tilted my head slightly and closed the last few millimeters of space. My hand holding the cold lemonade hovered over the counter an age. At the same moment it clicked down on the granite surface our lips touched.
I was nearly knocked back by the barrage of voices. Some screaming, some cheering, all of them trying to out shout the rest. There were so many messages sparking through her brain in that moment it was no wonder she was paralyzed. I pressed home my advantage, knowing that, although there were no outward signs, this was what she wanted. This was what her deepest, darkest desire was snarling for.
I kissed her more deeply.
"Don't, Toni. Don't you dare kiss him back! I don't care how good it feels. I don't care if it feels like there is a fireworks factory exploding in your tights. He is your flesh and blood. You raised this boy. You should be running!"
But other voices, softer, more insidious voices were strangling the panicky ones. Slowly covering them like a creeping pool of oil until they were snuffed out and that seething voice of need ruled over all.
I felt her lips flutter to life and then she was kissing me back. Her lips parted and my tongue darted in. It met hers and they began to play like a pair of newly acquainted puppies.
"Holy shit!" My mind was screaming, I could feel her massive tits being squashed between our bodies. I was in the kitchen making out with my mom. Holy shit!
My stance was awkward at first, my arms dangling useless by my sides. But, as our kiss lengthened and I felt her melting into me, I let my hands glide down to land gently on her hips. I could feel her warm skin through the thin layer of stretchy material.
"Oh God, Toni. Did we dream this? Are you dreaming it now? His hands are actually on you. Those gorgeous, powerful hands. Don't stop. Don't stop moving those hands baby. And don't stop kissing. If we stop for even a moment I might realize what we're doing and... No, don't even think about it. Be in the moment. Be in this moment and just try not to think ahead to what a pig-fuck of a disaster this is bound to turn into. He's your son! Dirty, dirty whore."
Following only the instructions from the voices which seemed to have my best interests at heart, I slid my hands up her sides, my thumbs brushing over her toned belly. She still had not moved anything apart from her lips and tongue. The hand she held the glass in was still stuck out to one side, caught in that first moment of awkward surprise.
Then I found the hem of her lycra tank top. I itched to lift it, but sensed the knife-edge I was on. She was a trapped bird, liable to batter herself against the cage if I did not first take the time to tame her.
I moaned into her mouth when my hands sank into the pillowy softness of her giant breasts.
"Yes! Yes! Grab them! Squeeze my tits! They feel so good in your big hands."
I obliged, kneading the pliant flesh through her top, like heavy dough. As I worked them, I felt the stony nubs of her nipples pass under my probing touch. They were so hard they felt like hot little pebbles trapped under her shirt.
She gasped as I rubbed my thumbs over them.
"God, yes!" Her internal monologue called to me, "They are so fucking sensitive. Just play with them a little more. Pinch them. If he keeps this up I'm going to cream my tights right here in the kitchen. Just. Don't. Stop."
I fingered the rubbery buds of flesh through her clothes while I kissed her until she was panting into my mouth. The next shock came when I felt her crotch bump me. I was beyond hard by this point. I had already tucked myself up into my waistband before I entered the room, but now I was fairly certain the tip of my cock was crowning past the top of my work out shorts, like a periscope eager to witness the action.
Now my mom's barely covered pussy was grinding against it as we made out against the kitchen counter.
"Oh fuck, that feels big. And so hard! Holy shit, Toni, your baby boy is so fucking hard for you. If only he knew how wet you were for him. Why does this turn you on so much?"
It was too much for me. I was fully invested now and she showed no more signs of fleeing. I still distantly heard the detracting voices from her mind, but they were muffled and sounded peevish at being so emphatically shoved aside. The voices I heard now only offered soft purring encouragement for me to continue.
"Yes!" They cried as I roughly took hold of the hem of her tank top, "Expose my tits, you filthy boy. Whip them out right here in the kitchen where anyone could walk in and find us. Imagine if Jeff walked in now and found our boy ravishing his topless mommy while she writhed like a whore."
This particular thought seemed to have an effect on both of us. I felt a dollop of precome plop out over my waistband and onto her clothing while she gasped and dug her pristine nails into my bare shoulders. My fluids mixed with hers to create a sopping wet spot where our two groins rubbed shamelessly together.
Not needing another invitation I yanked her top up. Her heavy tits strained against the tight material, following it up, up, up before finally tumbling out and bouncing in a most pleasing manner. I heard some of the lemonade in the glass she still clutched slop out onto the floor, but I ignored it.
Without any finesse, I grabbed two fistfuls of dense tit flesh and squeezed. They were unlike anything I had ever felt. Hot and firm, but with just the right amount of give. They responded so readily to my touch, jiggling and quivering with only the barest attention.
Still kissing her, I scooped them up, hefting their impressive weight and smooshing them together.
Her inner voice cheered me on.
Breaking the kiss I plunged down. I was worried that if I made eye contact it might break whatever spell this was, and that was the last thing I wanted. I kissed my way down over heavenly flesh. Burying my face in that cleavage that had filled so many of my masturbatory fantasies. I was finally holding her wondrous breasts. Finally running my tongue over them. I licked my way down and in broad circles, spiraling in toward her fat nipples.
Holy christ, what nipples they were. Big and rubbery, like a set of thimbles aching to be tongued. I hungrily took one in my mouth, like I had done once before eighteen years previous. Only this time I was giving that nipple all of my love, suckling, nuzzling and lapping at it until I felt her chest quivering with desire.
I heard the clink of ice in her glass and grinned wickedly into her soft flesh at the thought that popped into my head. Reaching out a hand I relieved her of the burden of the glass. She hardly seemed to notice until I touched it to her nipple. She oohed and arched her back into it. Her nipple responded instantly, the flesh around it puckering, hardening the tip and lifting it to meet my approaching tongue. I sandwiched the ripe little fruit between the glass and my tongue, torturing it with hot and cold on each side, making her moan so deep I could feel the vibrations in her chest through my lips. I repeated this on the right side and brought her other nipple to equal attention.
"Oh fuck!" This escaped her lips as I carefully tipped the glass and allowed it to spill a thin stream of icy lemonade onto the upper swell of her breast. It followed the curve of her substantial mound rippling over her roughened areola and running onto my waiting tongue. I proceeded to lick away the sticky line and then started all over again.
Soon her tits were tacky and shining with spilled lemonade and saliva. She stood, back to the counter, knees bent and breathing through her teeth as I worshiped her perfection.
I slugged a mouthful of the sweet nectar and sucked in an ice cube. Then I slid the glass out the way across the counter and went back to licking my mom's sensitive nipples.
She gave a cry at the first touch of the ice, but as this sensation conflicted with my warm mouth it turned into a loud moan. All the while I received admiration from her inner voice for my inventiveness and the way I took unquestioning command.
"Oh fuck! If he keeps doing that I might... Yeah... Oh God, I think..."
I lashed her nipple furiously with my tongue, while I pinched the other one almost past the tipping point into pain. The ice melted and dripped down her bare torso to where her hot cunt ground clumsily against me. Even with the forewarning, it still came as a surprise when I heard her gasp and felt her body twitch violently in my grip.
"C-C-Coming!" She stuttered in her actual voice. Her body tried to fold in on itself, but was held up by mine. I felt like Atlas under the weight of those breasts. I marveled that she managed to stand upright all day. She must have a core like steel. But I fought bravely on against their smothering mass, continuing to fondle and lick them even as they enfolded me in their pillowy embrace. Her orgasm was quick and violent. It hit like a tornado, striking out of nowhere, tossing her around like a ragdoll, and then leaving her devastated by its raw power.
I was fairly shaken myself. I had never made a girl come just from playing with her nipples before. I hadn't believed it was possible. I was pole-axed and even more certain that my mom was the perfect woman. Why couldn't it have been that easy with every girl I had ever been with?. Maybe because none of them had ever wanted me as much as she did? The voice still calling from inside her head kept telling me that, and I would be a fool not to obey it.
"You want my cock?" I hissed through gritted teeth, helping her back upright.
"Marlon!"
"Yes! God, I want to see that cock. It feels so big. Please can I touch your huge cock?" Her thoughts mewled at me like a kitten.
"You want to suck my cock before I fuck you so hard you scream my name, mom?"
I was speaking to the voice inside her head now, ignoring the wide-eyed innocence my mother had, it seemed, maintained as a front for all of my life so far. I wanted to communicate with the purring beast behind those sparkling grey eyes.
"Baby, no. We need to stop. This is wrong."
"God, Yes! I want to suck that cock. I want to drink your come and feel you pump it inside me. Make me your slut. Make mommy your wanton whore."
I had to take a breath, hearing my mom's demon inner voice was like breathing in intoxicating vapors.
"You want this," I insisted, gripping my bulge, "You can try to deny it but I can smell your need for it. Jesus, mom, look at your pussy!"
We both looked down her body to where her lycra tights hugged the swell of her hips. The material around her crotch was dark and sticky with her desire.
"Oh," she moaned, sounding a little surprised.
Fierce in my intent, I cupped her wet cunt in my hand, feeling the heat radiating off it and leaned in to growl in her ear, "You want this so bad, don't you mom? You say it's wrong but that just makes you want it more, doesn't it?"
I gave her mound a squeeze and she gaped out a soft cry. Her hand slipped off the counter as her legs buckled. I caught her, my crotch pushing my hand deeper into her crotch, using my hips to hold up her sagging weight.
I leaned in close, my face a savage mask as I whispered in her ear, "I just made you come from sucking your magnificent tits. Imagine what'll happen when I lick your pussy."
"Marlon," She tried to protest but her voice was drowned out by the far louder cry of pleasure from deep within her. She was burning for me, I knew it now with every fiber of my being. She was mine to control. I had never felt so aroused in my life. To be in command of the most beautiful woman I knew, with the added taboo of her being my own mother was something even my darkest fantasies could not have lived up to.
"Get down on your knees, mom and take my dick in your mouth." As I spoke I moved back, no longer supporting her weight, and placed a hand on her shoulder. With gentle, but unrelenting pressure I pushed her down. Her face a riot of conflict, she sank gradually. I felt her hot, nervous breaths against my bare chest and stomach.
"This is really happening! You can't do this, Toni. He's your son. It doesn't matter how much you want this. But he's so forceful, so domineering. It makes my pussy clench each time he gives me an order. God, how I want to obey. Let me be his mommy slave. Just for a little while."
As her own mind worked to convince her, I assisted by tugging free the bow at the top of my workout shorts. My cock slipped out from the hold of the waistband and poked through the material, less than an inch from her face. I looked down my body, past my dick, to her. She was on her knees, her eyes focused on the tented peak before her.
Bottom lip caught in her teeth, she raised a shaky hand up to the elastic top of my pants. When it looked like she might stall, I took her hand in mine and guided it up to snag the top of my shorts. Then I helped her drag them down.
My cock bounced free from its painful constraints and then bobbed up and down appreciatively. My shorts hit the floor and I stepped out of them, now naked except for my trainers.
With her free hand, my mom stifled and "Oh!" As my steel forged cock brushed her cheek.
"It's so big!" Her inner voice squealed, "So big and gorgeous. Look how hard it is for me. My baby boy is so hard for his mommy."
"Yeah, I am," I replied to her inner voice, no longer caring if she knew why I was so cocksure of this unlikely scenario working out this way. I could not imagine how this looked from her perspective, why her normally placid son was suddenly a lust-filled beast intent on dominating his own mother. She had no idea that I was just following the orders coming out of her own head. I had never been this way with anyone, I had always considered myself a gentle and considerate lover. But that voice, it begged me to master her and I felt myself burning to fulfill her every darkest desire.
"Suck my cock, mom," I ordered, emphasizing her title to remind her of the magnitude of the line we were about to cross.
From the way her eyes darted around I began to expect her to back down. To get up and run off, horrified by what we were doing. The other voices were coming back, warning her that this was taking it too far. This was incest. This would ruin her life. But the hungry voice deep within her never let up, it chanted her need, wheedled her to fulfill her long-repressed desires. It was right there, what she had lusted after for so long. Could she really let her ingrained sensibilities interfere with that?
I gave a sharp cry as I felt her soft hand curl itself around my shaft.
"Yes, that's it, mom. Take my cock. I can feel you want it so bad."
I watched, transfixed while she dragged my upward-pointing cock down. She stopped it, just millimeters from her lush red lips. When she breathed out I could feel the warmth of it across my hyper-stimulated glans. Her pink tongue ran over her bottom lip. Then her mouth parted and I fell back on the counter, hands grabbing for the edge, a gasp escaping me as I felt my tip slid into her hot, wet mouth.
"Moooom!" I let out a long, slow groan as I sank into her, the soft pad of her tongue rising to greet my swollen head.
She held me like that, the mushroom cap of my cock occupying nearly her entire oral cavity just on its own, while her tongue slathered over me.
"Mmm," I heard her thoughts purr, "He tastes so good. It's so rich and salty from his sweat. God, I miss sucking cocks so bad. Jeff stopped asking me years ago. If only he would man up and take possession of my mouth. But now I have Marlon. He's so big though. I'm not sure I can take much more."
"You can take more," I insisted, taking hold of a clump of her carefully styled hair and guiding her head into a slow bob on the head of my cock, "You can and you will take more. You want to take more, don't you?"
"Yeah, I want more. I want you so deep inside me. I haven't deep throated anyone since college. But then, none of those boys were anything like you, my darling boy."
I gazed down lovingly into her wide eyes, which were pleading with me. Under normal circumstances, I might have thought they were telling me to stop, but the voice in her head was chanting, "Deeper. Deeper. Deeper."
I move my hand through her mussed hair to grip the back of her head. At the same time, I gripped her beautiful face under her jaw, angling her head just so.
"Stick out your tongue and swallow me."
She gurgled something through the saliva and my thick cock but I ignored it, hearing clearly the voice that told me to shove in until I breached the back of her throat.
She obeyed me and I felt her adjust her jaw around my girth as my cock rested on the bed of her out-thrust tongue. I held her head in place and gradually but unerringly stuffed my long cock into her dripping mouth.
Her eyes went wide when I hit the spongy back of her throat.
"Take it, mom. Take your son's big cock in your throat."
"I can't. It's too big. I can't." Panicky thoughts bubbled up.
"You can, just relax," I soothed before jacking myself in another inch. I felt a barrier in her throat give and she made a gagging sound as I shoved through the back of her mouth and pierced into her throat.
"He's in my throat! I can feel my son filling my throat with his fat cock. Oh my God, I can't breathe, but I want more. Push deeper baby. Deeper."
I cried my pleasure as I spiked her head into my crotch, my cock scraping its way down her throat. She made gurgling sounds and saliva bubbled around my dick. It felt so incredible to experience her muscles convulsing, caught between choking and trying to swallow me down.
"That's right. I'm a whore. I'm your filthy mommy whore who gets off on choking on her son's cock. Treat me like the slut I am. I deserve it. If you keep I'm going to come again from having you abuse my poor throat."
Her face turned red with exertion and her body convulsed. Sensing a rising panic, I drew myself slithering back out of her throat. I popped free into the cool air, thick ropes of saliva still strung between her gasping mouth and my twitching cock.
I had never felt anything like that before, had never thought to use a woman in this way. But my mom's demons were screaming their delight, yelling for more even as she coughed and panted to get her breath back.
When I thought she had sufficiently recovered I took hold of her hair, wound it up in my fist and shoved my cock back into her still gasping mouth. She swallowed me down without complaint, her body only shuddering slightly as I breached her throat again.
I watched her pretty face redden with strain. I pleasured in the sight of her massive tits jiggling as she tried to shove her face further down the length of my cock. Her nose was buried in my pubic hair, her tongue's tip was lapping at my balls.
I released her again and she dropped her hands to her knees, hunching over as she tried to suck in air. I let her recover then did it again, and again. It felt so incredible, face fucking my mom as deep as my cock could go, that in a very short time my balls were boiling over.
"You want to taste my come?" I asked as she panted on her knees before me.
She looked at me through reddened eyes in that slightly bewildered way again, as if she couldn't believe she was submitting so readily to this. I couldn't believe it either.
"Do you want your son to fill your mouth with his jizz?"
She looked away from me.
"Say it," I ordered, "Say you want your son to come in your mouth."
"I..." she stuttered between breaths, her heavy breasts rising and falling with each lungful of air, "I want to taste your come, Marlon."
"I know you do. You're my little mommy slut, aren't you?"
She nodded, her cheeks reddening.
"Say it," I ordered, wondering who this positive maniac was that had inhabited my body. Less than an hour ago I would have blushed just to say a mild curse word in front of my very proper mother. Now I was ordering her to beg for my come."
"I'm your mommy slut. Come for me, please baby. I need it."
"Good girl, mom. Open wide."
She obeyed and I pushed into her mouth, her throat opening with far greater ease. When I was halfway down her neck she began to bob her head back and forth. I took hold of her head again and fucked her face with a force that astonished me, feeling safe in the knowledge she would stop me with a thought if I hurt her. She did not stop me. The strange thing was the more I dominated her, the more I abused her body, the more the voices I heard seemed to enjoy it. By the time the come in my balls came bubbling up my urethra they were shrieking with pleasure as if my orgasm was hers.
With an involuntary hip thrust that slapped my balls against her chin, I fired a single giant blast of scorching white spunk into the void of her throat. She swallowed, spluttered, and tried to swallow again as I withdrew on my back thrust and jettisoned another rope of thick white goo into the back of her mouth. She managed to hold back her gag reflex and drink down my sticky seed.
My body cramped and my fingers dug painfully into her scalp as I laid out another fat load on her tongue.
"Greedy girl," I gasped, "You can't drink it all."
With that I popped free of her lips, which puckered and flapped, begging for more. As another blast erupted from my tip and splattered her beautiful face, with its immaculately tended makeup, I growled out, "You're going to wear my come as a reminder that you are my mommy whore. Here, take it."
As I spoke I unleashed another streak of white come that lashed over her lips and nose, striking her forehead and ricochetting into her hair. I aimed my dying sputters at her cheek. As the last bit oozed out my tip I smeared it across her forehead and down to her other cheek, making certain that nearly her entire face was glistening wet with my come. I did all this while she was still drinking down the spunk I had left in her throat and mouth.
"God you look beautiful," I sighed, absorbing the sight of her lovely face now glistening in a sticky glaze of my come. "Just imagine what all those people who see you up on those billboards would think if they saw you now, your face dripping with your son's jizz." I swiped my hands across an imaginary vista, saying, "Toni Goldacre: Super Slut. Does it make you feel dirty?"
She nodded.
"Do you like it?"
For a response, she chewed on her bottom lip again and looked down to the tiled kitchen floor. I lent down and took her chin in my hand, my own come sliding off and sticking to my fingers. Forcing her to hold my gaze I stared down at her until finally, in a way that clearly pained her to admit, she gave another timid nod.
"Good girl," I rewarded her by offering her my fingers. Her lips parted and I stuck them inside. Though she looked shocked by my actions, I nonetheless felt her tongue swim around my digits and lap up all the come I gave her.
"And good girls get a reward."
I could see her shifting uncomfortably down on her knees. Her voice of morality was starting to pull at its leash. It was baying, "This is wrong, Toni. You fucked up. You are half-naked on your own kitchen floor, covered in your son's spunk. You are a fucking dirty whore and you need to run away before this gets any worse."
Hearing her growing unease I swooped in quickly. I took her by the arm and hauled her up. She came to her feet meekly but a touch uneasily. As soon as she was standing I took two handfuls of her tits and compressed them, forcing her nipples up and outwards.
"You're not going to run away," I warned before I slurped in a mouthful of tit flesh that included her nipple. I sucked down hard until I heard her inner voices start to gabble at the confusing sensations of pain and pleasure. Then I released her with a loud pop.
"You want me to bury my face in your horny pussy, don't you?"
My mom did not respond, she just watched me helplessly as I sucked on her other nipple with equal force. Her skin was still slightly tacky and I could still taste some of the residual sweetness from the lemonade.
"I know you've been dreaming about me devouring your cunt, haven't you, mom?"
"How?" She croaked out as I released the painful grip on her left breast and shoved that hand rudely down, between her tights and her skin. My fingers buried themselves in a sparse nest of short curls before sinking lower into soft heat.
"Aaah," she moaned as my fingers curled in and squashed down on sopping wet, mushy flesh. Layers of folds peeled back at the barest touch and my fingers were drawn in towards her entrance like water flowing down a drain.
"How do I know? It doesn't matter. But I know, mom. I see you now. I see you unlike anyone has ever seen you before. I know that behind your perfect facade lurks something dark. You have ignored it, abused it, even starved it, but it hasn't gone away, has it?"
She blinked helplessly back at me, her mind shifted uncomfortably, wailing, "How does he know? I work so hard to hide it."
"Now that I know about it, I'm going to help mom. Just relax and let me take charge, I will help you feed it." As I said these last words I plunged two of my fingers into the constricting tightness of her vagina. She grunted while I kissed my way up her neck.
"It wants you to submit, doesn't it, mom?"
She groaned again as I kissed over her voice box while at the same time I pumped my two fingers into her sucking cunt.
"It's telling you to give yourself to someone who can dominate you, someone who both loves you and can treat you like the whore you are on the inside."
"Don't say that, Marlon."
"I'm only speaking the truth, that you want someone powerful enough to fulfill your desires of being violated in places, and at times, where anyone might catch you. It only makes it hotter for you that the person doing it is your own son."
"Ah!" She cried out and involuntarily ground her mound into my palm.
Her thoughts and the wicked response of her body confirmed my suspicions. So, I pressed on, adding fuel to her rapidly kindling fire, "I can feel it, mom. You're ready to come just thinking about the shame all this would bring to you, a prominent businesswoman, a pillar of the community, a loving mother and wife and leading light of the PTA. Imagine if they knew what thoughts were dancing behind that perfect smile. Imagine if they found you like this, your son's fingers plugged into your hungry pussy. What would happen to that untarnished persona of perfection you have spent a lifetime building?"
I sloshed my fingers inside her, her inner walls clamping down on me.
"I can fulfill your needs, mom."
"Oh, Marlon. You can't. We mustn't... Ah!" Her last words were cut off as I pulled free of the bog-like suck of her cunt and lifted my fingers up to show her how they were literally dripping with her desire.
While she watched, I ran a lazy tongue up the blade of my hand, from the wrist to my fingertips, loading her tart juices onto my tongue. I swallowed them thirstily and gave a satisfied sigh. I had just tasted my own mother and she was even more delicious than her lemonade.
She nervously chewed on her bottom lip again. My response to her wavering uncertainty was to offer her my fingers again. She took them cautiously, but as soon as she tasted them she was wantonly slurping up her own desire.
The woman was such an enigma of contradiction.
"I can, mom, and I will. You are going to be my greedy little cock slut and, in return, I am going to do to you all those dark and dirty things you only dream about."
"I don't know what you mean," she blushed as I put my hands on either side of her, pinning her against the counter. Then I dipped down a couple of inches and rose up again, this time sliding my chest up her body. I gathered her massive breasts up with me as I stood, squashing them between our chests and rolling them upwards until I could have rested my chin on them, if I ducked my head. Our faces were so close together we were breathing the same air. I could smell my come and her pussy juices on her breath.
But I heard the voices. I heard them call out all the dirty things she had ever thought about doing, everything she had repressed for an entire lifetime. It was bubbling under the surface of her composure, threatening to burst it wide open and unleash a pandora's box of dark lusts. I was going to be there beneath it when it happened, mouth open to receive the bounty.
"You know exactly what I mean. But let me show you anyway."
"Marlon," she peeped shrilly as I dug my fingers into the waistband of her tights. With a wolfish grin that dared her to stop me, I peeled down the clinging material.
She gasped softly as I rolled her leggings down to mid-thigh, exposing her perfect pussy. It was as presentable as the rest of her, her pubic hair perfectly trimmed. Or, at least, that was what it was supposed to be. Thanks to my attention it was a matted, sticky mess. Liquid had smeared all over the front of her groin. She was shiny with her own arousal, from just below her belly button down to her thighs. Even then, as I continued to drag down her tights, and I knelt before her, I could see where the pooling liquid had spilled from her pussy and streaked down her thighs.
"My god. Look at you," I muttered, "Who could have guessed you were such a bitch in heat."
"Marlon, I don't like when you talk that way."
"What way? You don't like it when I call you my slut? My whore? My bitch, to be taken as I please?"
She shook her head, her cheeks turning a fiery red.
I paused for a moment to listen to the voices and then grinned back, "Liar. You want to be my little whore, don't you?"
She looked to the window, a sheen to her eyes as she fought the internal battle between what was proper and what she actually wanted. Her mind was all over the place, a chorus of a thousand discordant voices.
"Say it," I crooned, "Say you are my little whore and I will lick your cunt until you scream my name."
She shook her head again.
"Say it or I'm going to pull these tights up and leave you a dripping mess for the rest of the day. Say it," I encouraged, pinching a tuft pubic hair and giving it a little tug, just enough to give her a slight burn of pain.
She shook. Her body grew rigid, her face even redder as she fought her own will. Finally, like steam escaping a release valve, she mumbled, "Imyourwhore," out the corner of her mouth.
"I can't hear you," I sang, nuzzling my nose into her hair and breathing in the scent of her. Honey and wildflowers again, with just a touch of her sweat. It was feminine and loaded with pheromones that sizzled off my olfactory receptors. My still semi-hard dick twitched.
"I'm your whore, okay? I don't like this part of me, Marlon, I've been trying to keep it bottled in for as long as I can remember."
"Well, now you don't have to. Whenever I'm around you can let it out. I see you, mom and I'm not scared. I think it's fucking hot. Now, tell me what you want me to do to you."
She snorted a breath, clearly frustrated. Again, with noticeable effort, she instructed, "Lick me."
"Where?"
"My...my..." She scrunched up her face and stamped her foot, "My pussy, okay?! I want you to lick my fucking pussy." Her frustration had the very pleasing effect of making her big tits jiggle just above my head.
"Just this once though. You've gotten me so worked up I can't think straight. Maybe if we just do it I can finally get the evil thoughts I have of you out of my head so I can move on with my life."
"That's my girl," I chuckled and began kissing my way through the damp hair to the plumped up skin around her crease. My hands lowered her tights to her ankles and she was able to open up her thighs to me by leaning back on the counter and bending and spreading her knees.
"Fuck!" She hissed as my mouth found her secret folds. Planting that first deep kiss right in the center of my mom's wet cunt was the highlight of my life so far. Her outer lips brushed my cheeks as mine sucked up flesh as succulent and tasty as fresh-cut melon warmed by the summer sun.
She was so wet that just touching my face into her nether regions was like plunging my face into a bowl of warm water. Droplets beaded on the lower half of my face and ran down to drip off my chin. I was overjoyed to find that I was getting mouthfuls of her tangy pussy juices, which slid easily down my throat as I drank deeply of her ambrosia.
"Jesus, Marlon. That feels... don't stop!"
I munched my way down her box, burying my face deeper as her muscles softened and I reached her entrance. Her labia were pronounced and tickled my cheeks as I kissed her open, spreading her with my nibbling lips and swirling tongue.
This same tongue snaked around the funnel of soft flesh that disappeared into her warm depths. She writhed and moaned as I tongue tight circles around it without dipping into her. When I felt her flesh trembling beneath my touch I finally took pity on her and drove my tongue into her sopping hole. I stabbed it into her depths, feeling the walls snatch at it while her liquid heat continued to roll down into my open mouth.
While I tongue fucked her I felt her feet shifting. She was trying to get her tights off completely but was hampered by the sneakers she still wore. I broke my kiss, which won me a whimper from her, and banshee scream from her inner voices.
I roughly ripped her shoes off, carelessly flinging them across the kitchen and then held her tights down so that she could tug her feet free.
I looked up from where I knelt, marveling at my view. My mom was now completely naked, only her tank top remained, and that was rolled up into a thin pink band that ran under her armpits. When her eyes met mine I saw the change in her. Those once mysterious pools were now hooded with desire, the fight had left her and all that was left was a burning need to have my mouth on her again.
Happily, I obliged. This time, before I rose back up. I guided her right foot over my back so that her one knee bent over my shoulder. I did the same with the left so that she had to stand on her tiptoes, looking like she was sitting on an invisible high stool, while her elbows took most of her weight on the counter.
Like a shark from the depths, I rose up, mouth open and ready to feast. As my face planted back in her pussy my shoulders took up the weight of her thighs. She was now sitting on my shoulders as I gobbled at the folds and flaps that popped in and out of my mouth.
I licked and sucked and licked and sucked a slow path up her slit until finally, with a triumphant cry both from within her and without, her ripe berry of a clit dropped into my mouth. I sucked at it like I was trying to get its juices out. She moaned whorishly and rolled her hips around my head.
"Fuck, yes, Marlon. Keep doing that," She voiced.
I lapped at the little nub, teasing it out to its hyper-engorged state, feeling like it might burst in my mouth at any moment.
I wanted more though, the angle was not enough to take complete control over her pussy.
"Correction," I thought, "My pussy."
My hands took hold of her hips and I slowly began to rise up from my kneeling position. A moment later she was leaning even more heavily on her elbows, her body horizontal, her ass hanging in the air. I devoured her clit, my nose nuzzled into the top of her mound, my lips scrunching down on sloppy flesh. She had her eyes softly closed and from her open mouth were coming the softest, sweetest hoots of pleasure.
The best thing about it was that, as I worked, her voices gave me constant feedback and instructions.
"A little to the left. Up a bit. Circle that spot. That's it. Don't stop!"
It had never been so easy to pleasure a woman, I had a real-time, pinpoint accurate path to the very center of her pleasure map.
Still, I teased her horribly, reading her mind in one moment, bringing her right to the edge of her climax in a flash, and then retreating just before she could breast the peak. Then I would lick down and all around, anywhere but over the sparking, fizzing bud at her core. I ran my thick slab of a tongue over her entire pussy, needing to taste every square inch. I lifted her ass up, her body stretched out to bridge the gulf between me and the counter, and lapped unashamedly down over her taint to her pursed pucker of an anus. I wormed my tongue between clenched cheeks and obeyed the voice begging me to prod her tiny sphincter. It made suggestions that thrilled me, but which I put aside for a later time. For now, my poor mom was starting to sag from the constant muscle strain I was putting her through. Her body and mind were begging me for release.
I shoved her back so that she slid across the smooth, cold marble. Now only her ass and legs hung off the edge, but it allowed me to spread her legs with my hands. I kissed my way down the tender flesh of her inner thigh until I was back where her pale skin split to reveal the ripe wet pink beneath.
I teased her clit, hovering my mouth just over it and giving it the faintest brushes with the very tip of my tongue. She cursed and writhed. The voices in her head grew angry, yelling, "Do it! Just fucking do it! Stick your face into my cunt and make me fucking come before I burst."
Her eyes were shut tight, her teeth bared as if my slow torture was causing her physical pain. Taking pity, I decided to end her torment. I lowered my mouth onto the apex of her slit and sucked the aching bulb into my mouth. I started to rub my tongue against it, slow at first, but then with increasing rapidity. In moments her back was arching. The muscles all around her groin grew rigid and her hands curled into tight fists.
"Yes!" The voices screamed at me, "Yes! I'm going to come all over my son's face. I'm going to smear my hot juices all over him. Fuck yes!"
Her hips bucked and she cried her pleasure out into the house. Her ample backside bounced on the marble with her convulsions, slamming her pussy up into my face. I flicked my tongue out at whatever came within reach, but it mattered little by this point. Her orgasm was ripping through her body, shuddering those magnificent tits like jelly, and pouring a rich cream into my waiting mouth.
When I had finally tongued the last of the aftershocks out of her, I stood up. It was lucky I had been shirtless, because the entire top half of my body, from my nose down, was now dripping wet with her juices.
Laughing, I looked down at the mess she had made of me and asked, "Jesus, mom. Are you always like this? I've never seen someone get this wet."
She covered her mouth, a little smile trying to peak its way out. Then she shook her head, bright red suffusing her cheeks again.
"Only for you, baby." I heard from inside her head, "Only for my baby boy do I get wetter than a waterslide."
"Good," I grunted, taking hold of her thighs and pulling her closer to me so that my cock, already back to full salute, was just inches from her still oozing pussy, "Because I'm going to fuck you so hard you're never going to forget who this pussy belongs to."
"Marlon," She started.
The voices in her head were babbling again, saying things like, "I have a husband. He's a good man. Am I really going to fuck another man? My own son? I can't. This would be too wrong."
"Relax," I soothed her, bending over her so that I could place a soft kiss on her pouty lips. My lips still dripped with the evidence of her unquenchable lust, but she did not flinch. She sucked her own flavors off my tongue as I probed her mouth. In the process of doing this, my cock came to rest on the soft bed of her pubic hair.
"Don't try and tell me you haven't dreamed of this since the day I became a man," I broke the kiss, keeping my lips so close they brushed hers as I spoke, "I know that when you finger your lonely little pussy it's my cock you wish was filling you up, not dad's. Now, hold still."
She did, her face expressing her concern as I guided my naked cock down to caress her entrance.
When I settled my swollen head into the depressed ring around her tiny hole she shifted her hips and made an indefinable noise in her throat.
"Do it! Shove it in already! No, wait, let's think this through. He's going in bare! You should at least have protection!"
Heedless, I let out a groan that turned into an unexpected chuckle of delight as I pushed into her. Thick, muscular walls parted reluctantly to let my incompressible cylinder in. Fortunately, she was so wet I was able to coax my inflamed member though the constricting grip of her unparalleled pussy.
With patience and not a little effort I was finally able to work my way fully inside her. Her inner walls strained at my intrusion. They were like a great tide held back, ready to close in forcefully if my cock withdrew.
I stayed buried inside her for a long moment. Loving the feel of her silken insides wrapped around me, letting her get used to the invasion of her son's fat cock in her cramped little passage.
"So big." The voices wailed, "So very big. I've never felt so full. Oh God, I'm not sure I can take all of it. But I want to. I want it so bad. Fill up mommy's tight little cunt."
"Fuck," the word came out like a whine. This wasn't fair to my mind and body. No man should hear just how much a woman this desirable wanted him. Nor should he hear the endless list of perverted things she wanted him to perform upon her. It made me want to come right then, and surely it would ruin me for all other women.
Very slowly I stirred inside her. Her sheath clung to my shaft. I had to drag myself out with effort. When I pushed back in it was like trying to work my way into an oily clenched fist. It was a magnificent pussy, better than anything I had ever felt before.
"You're so tight, mom."
"Oh God. What are we doing? This is so very wrong."
"That's why it feels so good. Tell me you're not loving every inch of my cock."
"Baby..."
"I'll know if you're lying to me," I cut her off sternly.
After that she went quiet, her eyes looking demurely to the side of me as I plunged home into her depths.
"Lift your legs," I commanded, "Be my horny little slut."
It was incredible how her body responded as I degraded her. She was so used to being in command. At home, in business and even around the school, this was a woman used to giving orders. Perhaps that was why taking orders made her pussy convulse strongly around me.
With my help, she lifted her legs straight up, perpendicular to her body, resting them together against my chest to the left of my head. Her perfectly plump backside bulged over the edge of the counter like a ripe pear.
While I pumped into her I angled her backside up until her internal monologue went from soft coos of pleasure to bellows of passion. What a gift it is knowing exactly when your cock is hitting the right spot. No blind fumbling or hoping for the best, this was a tactical strike on her pleasure centers. All sex should be this way.
In seconds I had her back to the quivering mess she was only minutes before. Her huge natural breasts sloshed around on her chest as I hammered into her without mercy.
My mom was writhing like pornstar beneath me and I did not want to blink in case I missed a microsecond of it. I wanted it tattooed into my memory in high definition for the rest of my life.
"Toni, you slut. You're going to come on your son's giant cock. Oh, Jesus. Why has it never felt this way before? How does he know exactly what spot to hit, what pace to set? Sex with my son should not feel this good."
As her body seethed beneath me I slowed my thrusts, drawing out her ascent to her peak. I could hear it coming, I could see it in the sudden jerks of her body and the tensing of her belly muscles as they prepared for the exquisite crash.
"Did I say you could come yet, slut?"
"Please!" She begged, "Please let me come. I'm going to explode. Please, baby."
"Who is your master?"
"You are! You are!"
"And what are you?"
"Your sluuuuut!" She wailed as I slowed almost to a stop. Being able to read her thoughts I was able to direct my cock just perfectly to keep her riding along a very narrow, crumbling edge.
"Good. Don't forget it. And don't forget how good I make this pussy feel."
"I won't, I can't."
"That's right. This pussy is mine now. Say it and I'll let you come."
"It's yours. It's all yours."
"That's a good little mommy slut."
I rewarded her by drawing my cock right back, almost entirely out of her. She moaned. I reached out a hand and took hold of one of her nipples between two fingers. Then I slammed into her. At the same time, I squeezed and twisted her swollen nub painfully. The dam holding back her pleasure was already cracked and leaking. This was like hitting it with a bouncing bomb.
Her climax detonated inside her. It sent her body into a convulsive fit. Her back arched and her legs fell off my shoulder. They spread wide and invited me to slam into her again and again, adding fuel to the chain reaction of her orgasm.
Her ass shook with the impacts of my body and the force of her climax.
Her inner voices became a static of buzzing ecstasy. I carried on all through the long deconstruction of her essence and the slow reconstruction around her shaking foundation. When they finally started making utterances that made any sense there was one word that rang out, drowning all the rest. My name. Over and over.
"Marlon. Marlon. Marlon."
I felt like a fucking God! I had never thought I could break a woman like this. She was mine, body and soul, her mind told me so. I felt a warmth in my chest and a lump of emotion in my throat. It felt so incredible to be wanted so much you could feel the other person's desire almost like a stabbing pain. Even when two people were as close together as my mother and I were in that moment there is always a distance. Always an uncertainty of what the other person really thought. But, for possibly the first time in history, I knew beyond doubt just how much my mother loved me. How much she worshipped me and needed me to rule over her desires.
I grinned to my ears as I picked her up off the counter. My usual instinct in this moment would have been to cuddle her. She looked so sweet and tender, curled up from her bone-weary pleasure that I wanted to hold her close and make gentle love to her. But that was not who my mom was. Not my real mom. I knew what she wanted, her voices were whispering it to me. Letting me know how she wanted me to show my love. To show her I was unlike any of the other men she knew who fawned over her beauty, poise, and intelligence.
I lowered her to the tiled kitchen floor, onto her knees, my cock slipping out of her pussy in the process. I was painfully hard now. I needed to climax or it might cause brain damage from all the electrical output arcing out from the pleasure center of my brain.
"What are you doing, Marlon?" She asked, her words a little slurred, as if her orgasm had inebriated her.
"Giving you what you want, mom."
"And what do I want?" She asked, a little timidly as I stood over her, taking her head in one hand and guiding her forward. She went down onto all fours on the kitchen tiles and glanced back over her shoulder. She looked more beautiful than I thought it was possible for a woman to look, with that uncertainty in her wide eyes and her distressed hair falling over her come-streaked face.
"You want..." I spoke as I moved around behind her and took her hips in my hands, "...To be fucked..." I pulled at her hips so that her ass rose up. Her back arched and I could hear the nervous murmurs in her head.
"What's he going to do, Toni? What have you awoken in your sweet little boy? He's a fucking animal. He's terrifying. But why does that make your pussy ache so much? Isn't this the type of man you've always wanted? You had to make him yourself."
I spread her cheeks of her perfect ass and looked down her crack, past her tiny pink bud of an asshole to her ludicrously wet pussy. Her puffy lips were already spread, her entrance looked like it was blowing me kisses as her body heaved in breaths.
"...Like a bitch in heat," I finished and drove my cock home into her waiting cunt.
"Marlon!" She tried to chastise me, but it tailed off into a moan.
I stood, almost straddling her, my knees bent, my cock buried so deep my pubic hairs were tickling her asshole.
"What would happen," I spoke as steadily as I could, although I was starting to lose my composure already, "If Mrs. Wright from next door walked in now."
"Ooh, Marlon don't," She squeaked, "I don't like you talking like that."
I chuckled. I didn't even need the voices to tell me she was lying this time. Her body bucked and her pussy clamped down just at the mention of the idea.
"Imagine if one of your friends came in right now and found you, face down, ass up on your own kitchen floor while your nineteen-year-old son was fucking you like an animal."
"Don't say that Marlon," She groaned, her back arching even more, angling her ass up to accept my thrusts deeper and harder.
"What would they say if they saw you like this? Behaving like such a desperate slut."
"Mmmmm."
I got down on my knees and took her big ass in my hands. I gripped her tight and began to fuck her hard. Harder than I had ever fucked anyone. My body slapped into hers, sending bowshocks through the flesh of her buttocks. Her huge breasts were dangling, swinging back and forth pendulously with each collision.
I spoke in a softer voice, "What if Laurie came in now? What if she saw her mom like this? What would she think of you?"
The only sound that came from my mom was a pathetic whimper.
"She'd think you were a whore," she whined to herself, "She would be disgusted by you. Why does that make me want to come so hard? What is wrong with me?"
"Nothing is wrong with you, you're fucking perfect, mom." She was so lost in the intensity of the pummeling I was giving her body she seemed not to notice that I was responding to her thoughts and not her words.
"You get off on the idea of being shamed. So be it. Nothing you can do about it, but maybe I can help you live it out. It has to be better than living with it all locked up inside you."
I was closing in on my climax now. It felt so incredible to just be able to let go of all my inhibitions. I did not have to worry that I might be hurting her, or that the way I was treating her would damage her psyche. My mom was a proud woman, a strong woman and behaving like this only made her more excited. I wanted to push her to the edge.
"Imagine if dad came in right now. Think about what his face would look like. His wife, his pride and joy, the envy of every man within a hundred miles, being fucked like a whore by his own son."
She cried out, the burning shame like tinder to her fuse.
"Yeah, that's it. Your pussy is milking my cock, mom. Keep that up and I'm going to come in you. I'm going to fill you with my seed."
A storm raged within her, "No, don't! We need it! it's not safe! I'm not on the pill. Your father had the snip! Do it! Fill me up with your hot come." It boiled more and more, the spiral growing tighter, ramping up her pleasure.
"Tell me you want it," I growled, "Beg for my come to fill you!"
"I... I..." She stammered, her body a rollicking, jouncing mass as I rode her to my climax, "Do it!" She yelled, "Come in me! Come in your mommy's unprotected pussy!"
"Oh Jesus," I grunted, feeling my body go into a total lockdown. It was like the second after the barbs from a stun gun sank into your flesh. I went completely still, slightly terrified by the magnitude of the forces that were about to travel through me.
Semen gushed out of my cock like someone had knocked the cap off a fire hydrant. I shook and juddered like the stun gun had been turned all the way up to eleven. I should have been drained after coming all over her face, but it was as if I tapped some deeply hidden reserve. As I flooded her pussy she gave an involuntary shriek as her own body cramped down, not ready to climax again so soon. She came from all the dirty talk I had been revving her with and from the sheer insanity of letting her own son pour millions of little swimmers into her fecund womb.
She shivered out a wicked third climax as I pumped a sloppy mess into her that filled her to the very brim. It left my balls aching, feeling like rolled-up tubes of ointment.
"Fuck me!" I panted, slapping her ass and enjoying how it carried the rippling wave right across the dense flesh, "That was incredible. You are incredible, mom."
I pulled free from her clinging embrace and watched as my come globbed out of her sloppy cunt onto the kitchen floor.
My mom remained on the floor, she had curled up, her body still shuddering slightly.
"Are you okay?" I asked, suddenly concerned about just how far I had taken things, and how fast I had done it. This all had to seem completely insane to my mom. She had no idea that I was acting on her thoughts.
"I'm sorry, Marlon," She said shakily.
"Sorry? Why?"
"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. Like the wanton slut I am."
"Hey," I chided her, taking her by the arm and starting to pull her up, "Hey, don't say that. Don't be sorry."
She came up reluctantly, her eyes averted. Her voice on the edge of tears she asked, "Why not? I am a slut. I just fucked my own son and I came harder than I ever have in my life. Three times."
I took her cheek in my hand and turned it to me. Giving her a serious look, I said sternly, "You are a slut. But you are my slut. Never be sorry about that."
"Marlon," She tried to shift out of my grip but I held her.
"No, don't be sorry that I saw behind your mask either. That was the single hottest thing I have ever seen. I loved every minute of it."
"You don't... hate me?"
"Ha!" I coughed out a laugh, "I've never loved you more. You were vulnerable for me, mom. Maybe for the first time in your life. Maybe that was why it felt so good. It did feel good, didn't it?"
She gave a slow, shy nod.
"Good, now I am going to make a proposal. You can keep your dirty secrets from the world, but you no longer hide them from me. You don't have to be ashamed by your need to be dominated. You can just come to me anytime you want to live them out. No one else will ever have to know."
"We can't..."
"We can. I will keep your secret and, in return, you are going to be my own personal whore. I am going to take you whenever and wherever I want and you are going to beg me to do it, isn't that right, slut?"
"I..."
"Isn't that right, Slut?" I pronounced the last word louder and more clearly.
"Yes, master," She replied.
"Excellent. Now, you have to go to your meeting in," I glanced to the kitchen clock, "About twenty minutes. You probably want to get cleaned up?"
She nodded.
"Well, you can't."
Her eyes flared wide.
"You are going to show me what a good little slut you are by putting the clothes I stripped off you of back on and getting in the car and going to school. It will remind you of me every time you get a whiff of scent from your soiled clothes. You had better pray these soaked tights dry off in the time it takes you to get there."
"But Marlon..."
"You are going to wear my dried come on your face all the way to school too."
Her eyes popped and she looked ready to lose it with me but I held up a hand and continued, "I will be kind though, I give you permission to wipe it off when, and only when, you are parked in the school lot. Is that understood?"
I heard her inner voices protest, but I also heard others moan out a long thread of pleasure. I reached out a hand and cupped her pussy again. I could feel her core turning molten again under the heat of her burning shame.
"Is that understood?"
"Yes, master," she agreed, her knees growing weak with just the thought of the mortification she was about to endure. It nearly made her come again on my fingers.
"Good," I removed my hand, which was met with a whimper, turned her around and slapped her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint.
"Now, clean up this mess and then be on your way. I'm going to take a shower. I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Just think about me being here at home planning when I can next take you and make you come again."
She gave a small involuntary shudder but, as I turned and walked away, heading to the bathroom, I heard a choir of voices singing out:
"He wants me! He's going to take me again. He's going to ravish me and humiliate me and make me come over and over. Oh God, I can't wait!"
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