A Mother’s Worry – part 17

“No, I am,” Dad said, looking at his glass. “I’ve found that I can have four fingers of whiskey before I take my pills, and then I’ll be out for ten hours straight. Not even a thunderbolt from Zeus could wake me after that.” Dad looked at his phone. “It’s six now; I’ll be out by eight and up by six-thirty, well-rested.”

“As long as it’s safe,” I said.

“Between you and me,” Dad said, lowering his voice, “I need the rest. I went to the gym today to work on my cardio. Your mother has been wearing me out the last couple of days.”

“Ah, Dad,” I said. “Why would you tell me that?”

While the words that left my mouth sounded like the response a good son might have given, on the inside, I thought, I wish we could brag about Mom to each other. Was I odd for wanting to share my mother with my dad? I had glossed over several incest stories in the last few days, and they were always about sons who stole their mothers from their fathers, but I loved my dad. What would it be like to have Mom walk around naked for us, taking her whenever we wanted, or having Mom give us blow jobs while we watched sports together? What would it be like to have Mom as our sex slave?

“Hey,” Dad said, “if I have to hear about how my son is trying to have sex with his girlfriend then you can listen to me brag about my sex life.”

“What if grandpa talked to you about grandma?” I pictured my grandmother, who was sixty-three or four. She belonged on any magazine with a Sexy Over Sixty cover story. My grandma had a Jayne Seymour-like appeal with a fit, older woman’s body… what would it be like if we double-teamed his mother together? Oh, man, I had really become fucked up in the head.

“I’d ask him,” Dad said, “‘So, old man, how much Viagra do you have to take to get your willy up?'”

“Ah, man,” I said, laughing. “Why do you always have to top me?”

“Because,” Dad said, “I can’t make these kinds of jokes at work anymore since #MeToo, though it seems to be dying out, doesn’t it?”

“You were topping me before #MeToo came along,” I said, heading toward the kitchen.

“Check on dinner for me, thanks.”

“Stick to your four fingers tonight,” I said as I walked through the shortcut hallway.

I found Mom in the kitchen, standing at the island with her back to me. She had her long hair pulled up in a swirling bun gathered at the back of her head with loose strands hanging about in a sexy, I’ve just-been-fucked, kind of a mess. Had my father fucked her while I was upstairs? The idea made my dick swell all over again.

Mom was wearing a thigh-length, loose-fitting dress-shirt made of blue cotton with a wide collar and long sleeves that she had folded back to her elbows and a tie belt at the waist. I knew that dress. I knew that it buttoned down the center in the front. The cotton was soft but thick enough to hide her nipples and dark enough to hide any wet spots from her lack of panties.

I stopped at the end of the hallway and said, “I think that you should show me that you’re not wearing panties.” Despite my calm voice, a chill ran up my spine. My dad wasn’t far away, and though we had fooled around on the couch with Dad sleeping nearby, I wasn’t sure if Mom would surrender herself to me with him awake in the living room.

“Where’s your father?” Mom asked. She reached her right arm forward, picking up the glass of white wine sitting in front of her. She brought it to her lips and drank, helping herself to a long swallow of alcohol.

“On the couch, waiting for dinner.” I licked my lips and opened and closed my fist, stretching my fingers. “Should I tell him it will be ready in ten minutes?”

“Five,” Mom said. “If you tell him ten, he may come in here and try to will his food to finish faster, but if you tell him five, then it might take him ten.”

“Dad,” I shouted, “you got five minutes!”

“Thanks!” Dad yelled back.

“I could have done that,” Mom said, tilting her head as her shoulders shook with mild laughter.

“Show me your ass,” I whispered to my mother, eyeing the way her cotton shirt dress hung atop her ass, giving off faint impressions of its pear shape and curves and the crack of her ass.

“But your father….”

“I’m making you do it,” I said. “You have to.”

Mom set down her glass of wine. She reached back with both of her hands, grabbing the sides of her dress. The fabric bunched and twisted as her fingers pinched the cloth against her thumbs, and with a small hip shuffle, she dragged her dress up the backs of her thighs.

My hard-on grew, thickening and pushing my shorts outward, the lack of my boxer briefs allowing air to flow between my thighs and around my balls, giving me a light exposure that made me shiver. The crease between the backs of Mom’s thighs came into view, then the bare flesh of her cheeks, her pussy shadowed by her butt and dress, the dimmer lighting, and the angle of my gaze. She raised her dress to the small of her back, then gathered the material and pulled it forward, tightening the hem of her skirt around her waist.

“There,” Mom said, accusing me of something with resentment in her voice. “Now, what are you going to make me do?”

“Stand still and listen for Dad,” I said as my heartbeat rose.

“Okay,” Mom said, the sound of the TV seeming to come from a great distance away.

I walked forward, hooking my thumbs into my waistline as I did, tugging my shorts outward and downward, freeing my big dick, and hooking my shorts beneath my cum-filled balls. The kitchen’s air tickled my sack and cooled my knob, providing a breezy thrill before I pressed my spongy mushroom tip against Mom’s ass and slid upward through her crack, resting the underside of my shaft between her warm cheeks.

“Oh,” Mom said, louder than I thought she would. “Not that away!” She tried to slide away from me, but I caught her hips and pulled her ass hard against my cock, smashing my rod between us.

“Yes, this way,” I said, “listen for Dad.”

“Uh,” Mom grunted as I pulled my ass back and pumped my cock forward, hot-dogging her ass cheeks with the thickness of my slightly curved cock. “Turn me around”–she uttered a struggle-sounding moan as she tried to push herself away from the kitchen island–“so I can watch for your father!” She spoke softly but in a rush of words punctuated with a tremor of adrenaline.

“Listen for him,” I whispered, lowering my lips to her exposed ear and then licking her behind her lobe. Mom shoved her butt hard against my cock, wiggling her hips by dancing on her toes. “Listen to the TV. He’ll turn it off.”

“He better,” Mom whispered. “The things you make me do!”

“I’m going to make you do a lot of things, Mom.” I humped my cock faster between her cheeks, my balls making little plops of sound as they battered the bottom of her butt. “Naughty things. Nasty things. Things Dad won’t do to you. Things that’ll make you feel like a dirty whore when you’re doing them.”

“Yes!” Mom hissed, her entire body shuddering and her breath shaking. She reached back and grabbed onto my hips, using the new leverage to fuck her ass against my cock with twisting motions that made my knob tingle.

I slid my lips down the back of my mother’s neck and bit the curve of her shoulder, tugging on her skin as her breathing turned ragged. She let go of my right hip and brought her hands between her legs. I slid my hands around her waist, her dress resting on my forearms as I pushed my hands up her smooth stomach, over her ribs, and cupped her little-titty handfuls, her dress rising and leaving her as naked as Rebecca De Mornay’s sexy nymph ass in the first fuck scene of Risky Business.

“Mmm, fuck, hurry,” Mom huffed. “Hurry up and come on me!”

I held my mother’s tits, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples, tweaking them, twisting them, making her gasp as I ran my dick through the crack of her ass. My skin tingled, and my cock buzzed; my orgasm was so close but so far away. The idea of my dad catching me with my mother–his wife–added an adrenaline rush to my body that hollowed out my insides. Would he join me in pleasing his wife?

“Push your cock between my legs,” Mom panted, her titties now slick with sweat. “Hurry, you nasty bastard.”

“Fuck,” I gasped in her ear, keeping my voice low. I hunched my hips, pulling my ass back, and the tip of my cock slid downward. My knob pressed into Mom’s crack, parting her cheeks as it made its way to the steamy, heart-shaped gap between her legs. I found the gap and pushed forward, the top of my prick grazing my mother’s smooth and juicy pussy lips. She closed her legs and lowered her right hand beneath her snatch, taking hold of my throbbing prick.

“Fuck me,” Mom hissed. “Fuck your mother’s thighs!”

I pumped her thigh gap fast and hard, keeping our bodies pressed together as my cock collected her slippery cunny cream. Her fingers squeezed me hard, and I was big enough for her to jerk off the upper half of my cock as the rest of me lay between her legs. Precum dripped from me, wetting Mom’s hand along with her cunny-honey, making every thrust between her legs a slippery stroke that pulled on my dick’s skin with pleasure-building intensity.

“Come, baby, come,” Mom hissed. “Come, baby. Come in my hand. Come in Mommy’s hand. Come for me, baby. Come for this pussy between my legs.”

“Oh, fuck!” I moaned into the collar of her dress, using the cotton to muffle my sounds as my balls released a thick jet of hot, sticky jizz into my shaft. I hugged Mom tightly against me, her heart beating hard through her chest and tits and her legs squeezing me in a slippery hug. She held onto my knob with both hands, catching my baby batter as it splashed against her palms.

“Jerk the rest of it onto my ass,” Mom said, pulling her hands from between her legs.

I pulled my cock back, my shaft softening into a semi-hard, rubbery elephant’s trunk. Taking my cock by its neck with my right hand, I dragged the tip through Mom’s crack, leaving strings of liquid crystal in her cleft as I jerked my shaft with my left hand. When I stepped away from her, Mom’s dress fell back around her thighs. She turned around, and holding her hands cupped together, she lifted the pool of cum in her palms and lapped at it like a kitty, looking me in the eyes the entire time.

It wasn’t until after my cum was in her tummy that she said, “Your father!” as her eyes went wide.

I walked around the corner, and as we had hoped, Dad had forgotten about dinner and was watching TV. “It’s ready,” I said and hurried to my chair, needing to hide the cum stain on the front bulge of my shorts.

After dinner, Dad had another two fingers of whiskey, along with his sleeping pill. He headed upstairs as soon as his first yawn widened his mouth. Before he left, he asked Mom, “Coming to bed? I need someone to cuddle me to sleep.”

No, I thought, lengthening the word until it echoed in the distant reaches of my skull. I knew Mom could come back downstairs after Dad had fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wait.

“I’ll be right there.” Mom kissed him on the cheek before he went upstairs. When Dad was gone, she turned to me and said, “Does Mommy get a kiss tonight?”

We were on our couch, in our safe place. I slid to her, moving between her legs and pressing my lips to hers. Our mouths opened, our tongues came out, and we spent the next several minutes involved in deep, wet kisses that we punctuated with the sounds of our lips coming together and breaking apart.

“You’re coming back down when Dad falls asleep,” I said to Mom, pulling up her skirt and sliding my right palm down the inside of her thigh, cupping her wet folds. I slid my middle finger between her lips, making her back arch as I probed her pink depths. “I want to play with this some more.” I squeezed her pussy hard.

“Mmm,” Mom groaned as I rubbed her G-spot. “You know–mmm–Mark, we were always–oh–afraid of buying you”–Mom spread her knees wide and pushed her cunny onto my finger–“new fucking toys because you played with them–uh–so much. You always broke them right away.” Mom closed her eyes and whimpered as I pressed my thumb down on her little, pink pearl. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Are you going to break Mommy’s pussy?”

“Mom,” I groaned, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, “only if your pussy deserves it.” Who, but me, was lucky enough to talk to his mother this way?

“It does, baby, oh it fucking does,” Mom whispered. “But right now, you have to let my pussy go. I need to tuck your father into bed.”

“If you say so,” I whispered. Would she fuck him? “But come back down as soon as he falls asleep.”

Mom shook her head. “You’ve had enough for today and night, and you have to get your sleep. There’s something you need to make me do tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” I slipped another finger into my mother’s dewy twat.

“Mmm, you little shit,” Mom hissed. “Yeah. You have to make me take your big dick. Now, get off of me.” I parted with my mother, but so slowly that she had to push me off.

“Come downstairs later,” I said as she walked upstairs.

“No,” Mom said. “You get some rest.”

“I’m making you.”

“No,” she sounded amused.

“Then,” I said, my chest swelling with new energy, “I’ll come and take it from you.”

Mom stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to look at me from over her left shoulder. “With your father sleeping right next to me?” She smiled that, aw, son, you’re too cute for words, smile. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I fell back on the couch, but I knew something that Mom probably didn’t think I knew. When Dad drank before taking his pill, he slept right through the night, and not even a thunderbolt from Zeus could wake him.

* * * * *

“My dad is pounding my mom hard,” Jenna whispered through the phone, her voice so low that I had to strain to hear her. “Listen.”

I was sitting on my bed with my shoulders hunched and my head tilted downward as if by making myself smaller, I’d be able to hear her better.

“Can you hear my mother?” Jenna asked.

“I can barely hear you,” I said.

“Sorry,” Jenna whispered. “I can hear her through the door. She’s grunting, like those girls on Pornhub who are taking so much dick they can’t think.”

I laughed.

“Am I sick for thinking this is hot?” Jenna asked. “I’m so wet right now.”

“No,” I said, “you’re not sick. It’s natural. I’ve seen my parents have sex.”

“Yeah?” Jenna’s voice caught. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, and I could picture her face, embarrassed and apologetic for getting caught, but with a, well, what did you expect, glint in her eyes.

“Are your fingers inside or outside of your panties?”

“I’m not wearing panties, but I have my fingers on my pussy from the side, through the leg hole of my shorts.” Jenna moaned, using the back of her throat to create a quiet yet high-pitched whimper. “My pussy is soaked.”

“It was no big deal when I saw my parents,” I said. “I was walking downstairs, and my dad was on one of the side couches, passed out from his sleeping pills. Mom was on top of him, riding him, but facing away from him and me.”

“Like a cowgirl,” Jenna whispered. “A reverse cowgirl. Your mom is fucking sexy. I hope I’m that hot when I’m older.”

“You will be.” I laughed. “Your Mom is hot too.”

“Shut up,” Jenna whispered. “God, she’s getting fucked hard right now. Baby?”

“Yeah?” I asked, my cock swelling.

“I need to put down the phone,” Jenna whispered. “I need two hands for this.”

“You’re going to masturbate to your parents?” My knob tingled so much that I had to squeeze my crown through my shorts.

“I’m going to come to their sounds.” Jenna made a frustrated noise. “But thanks to you, maybe now I’m going to end up picturing them as well. Love you, and we’ll be fucking soon.”

“Hey,” I said, “when your father caves into us, I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.”

“I know,” Jenna whispered, her voice trembling. “And you better. Love you.”

“Love you,” I said.

If this had been a week earlier, I’d have begged Jenna to let me listen to her, but now I had Mom to help me alleviate the blue that Jenna put in my balls. I looked at the time on my phone. It was half an hour past eight. If Dad wasn’t bullshitting me, then he should be asleep and unable to wake up for another nine and a half hours. I took a deep breath, then another. My cock grew, and my heartbeat rose as I considered going to my parents’ room.

“I better wait,” I mumbled as my shaft straightened out. I pushed my shorts down my legs, kicking them to the floor and giving my cock the room it needed to breathe. I was naked now. My dick always felt bigger whenever I was naked and hard, and the pressure of my clothes was no longer pressing down on my shaft, restricting my cock’s freedom.

I checked the time again.

A minute had passed.

Fuck.

The next twenty-nine minutes rolled by with the momentum of a steamroller. In the past, after I had discovered porn, two hours of watching shaved pussy or thick MILF muff would have felt like a couple of minutes going by. But now, knowing that my mother was down the hallway and mine to play with as my father slept made every second of those twenty-nine minutes slide forward in super-slow motion.

Fuck.

I stood.

I paced.

I dropped onto the floor and did some push-ups, getting the blood into my muscles and making them swell. Would Mom appreciate that? I could still remember when my father was as lean as I was. Now he was slender, with long muscles, but they didn’t cord his body the way mine could and did when I was hitting the gym on a schedule.

Time continued to tick down. My cock hardened, then softened, then hardened again with the slightest thought of my mother and what her reaction would be once I walked into her bedroom to take her. Worry, fear, anger, frustration–I pictured everything, and each scenario ended with Mom pretending to resist me but always giving in.

My imagination flashed to when I had caught Mom riding Dad. He hadn’t woken until after he had come, and even then, he sounded out of it. He hadn’t been drinking that night. Could I make Mom suck his cock while I ate her from behind? My cock swelled until it hurt as a new scenario unfolded within my mind: Mom, climbing atop Dad as she had the other night, only now she was leaning forward and taking my dick into her mouth. That scenario continued, shimmering and blending until Mom was riding Dad while facing him, and I was climbing behind her with my thick, missile-shaped knob aiming straight for her virgin asshole–

I looked at the clock with my cock in my hand.

It was nine.

I stood, walked out of my room and down the hallway. Looking toward the floor, I saw no light slipping from the crack beneath my parents’ door. Was Mom asleep? Would I have to wake her? Was I pushing it? Was she really not expecting me? You wouldn’t dare. She had said those words with that smile on her face, calling me cute but silly.

I stood outside of her room with my heart delivering hammer blows to my breastbone and my common sense pushing back against what had been my righteous desire during the past half-hour. My cock throbbed, and my balls tightened, warning me that it was going to be a painful night for us if I didn’t get my ass in there and nut in my mother’s mouth. My common sense melted, and I grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open.

Of all the scenarios I had imagined, I had not expected the one that greeted my eyes. Shades of darkness occupied ninety-nine percent of the room. A nightlight next to Mom’s bed shined down upon her face, where sat the large reading glasses she only wore by lamplight. On her breasts sat a small, paperback romance novel. She looked up at me, regarding me with a flat expression as she turned to her right and set her book down with her left hand, having to reach across her body. When she rolled back to her original position, she grabbed the edge of her comforter with her left hand and swept it across her body, unveiling her nakedness to me.