A Mother’s Worry – part 22

I watched as her lips parted and her tongue came out, then I turned and walked away. This was dirty. Nasty. Pornographic. And yet, my heart raced, and my limbs pulsed with adrenaline. Next time, I would make Mom sit with me in one of those chairs, and then I wouldn’t have to jerk off.

Mom met me in the hallway, and together we raced back to the car for a quick, backseat fuck. She kept saying, “I was so nervous, and I felt so nasty, but I couldn’t stop myself, baby. I couldn’t stop making my pussy come. Am I a bad girl, Mark? Is Mommy a bad girl?”

By the time we returned home, I was ready to fuck again.

19

A Wild Family Night

Once home, I said, “Mom, take off everything but your skirt and tennis shoes.”

“I have to work,” Mom pouted, but a burning light ignited in her eyes, and a drawn-out, sensual mask took over her features–defiant yet daring. “And our lunch is cold.”

“Take them off.”

“Make me, you little bastard,” Mom whispered with a tremor in her voice.

A chill ran through me the moment I heard the word bastard, and my poor, overworked cock started to rise like the champion that it was.

I dropped our to-go bag on the floor and walked toward my mother. Her lower lip trembled, then she turned and ran, dropping her black-bagged dildo on the floor. I caught her at the stairs, pushing her front side against the banister as I reached under her skirt. She fought me, but with little resistance, a slight push, a movement of her hips, but never trying to overpower me. She let me break down her struggle with bully-like persistence.

I held my mother around her waist with my left arm, my hand sliding under her shirt, then rising upward. I exposed her smooth stomach as I took her smallish, right tit in my palm and squeezed her flesh hard.

“Uh,” Mom grunted, sounding angry, though she pushed her ass against my dick, grinding her butt in a circle against me.

That’s one hot slut, I heard that scumbag’s voice from the strip club running through my skull.

That hot slut is mine, is how I had answered him, and just like when I had first said it, my heartbeat sped up as my blood warmed and heat rippled to the surface of my skin. I slid my right hand under Mom’s short, slutty tennis skirt, up the back of her right thigh to her naked ass cheek. I squeezed her firm crescent while lowering my mouth to her ear and breathing hard. Mom panted, breathing just as hard as I was. I moved my fingers to the side, digging her G-string out of her ass crack and tickling her asshole at the same time.

“Ooh,” Mom whimpered, shuddering.

I closed my fingers around her floss-like G-string and the waistband at the top of her butt. Mom’s body moved snake-like against me as I said, “Some pervert who watched you fuck yourself called you a hot slut.” Mom shivered as my words caressed her ear. “I said you were my hot slut.”

“Mark,” Mom whined.

“Are you my hot slut, Mom, or do I have to make you my hot slut?”

“Make me your slut,” Mom gasped, her voice shaking with excitement. “Show your mother you own this pussy!”

I growled in Mom’s ear, taking her lobe between my teeth as I yanked hard on the triangular of string holding her panties together above her butt.

“Uh!” Mom grunted as the front of her panties tightened against her.

Resistance met my savage pull, lifting Mom’s hips upward until she stood on her toes, and then it was gone as her panties snapped in several places. “Yes!” Mom gasped as her G-string fell between her legs, and her waistband ripped in two, retreating to the front of her crotch. I tossed what was left of her panties behind me. I went for my pants and wrestled my cock from its cage as Mom’s slutty micro-string fell onto the steps below us.

My cock sprang free, still a little wet from Mom’s cummy juices that had melted from the heat beneath my jeans. I had never fucked my mother from behind before, and my heart swelled, thinking that the first time I was going to bend my mother over was when she had asked me to make her my slut.

Mom’s pussy lips kissed my knob, and her hot wetness filled my spongy tip with heat. Her soft folds pushed inward, the snug line of her slit spreading over my glans, and then her inner tightness fought me, engulfed me, and finally took my prick into her cream-filled tunnel.

“Oh, yeah,” I groaned as her pussy walls clenched my shaft, sucking on my pole and creating a slippery, velvet-like friction that tingled my glans. “That’s my pussy, Mom. Mine.”

“Uh-huh,” Mom moaned in a shaky voice. She raised her right leg to a higher step, opening her cunny to me, her lips spreading and leaving trails of honey around my swollen sausage. “Fuck me, Mark. Fuck me!”

I buried my bone as deep as I could in Mom’s sopping wet furrow, spreading pussy meat and opening her body to her very soul. My knob hit the back of her, ground against something soft and wet and all too comfy. I pulled out, her lips chasing my shaft until I rammed my cock back into her cunt, driving the breath from her lungs.

Groans and grunts followed. “Uh, ah, uh, oh, uh, mmm, umm, ah, ah-fuck-shit-oh–oh, god!” We gasped in harmony with the naughty, wet squishy sounds my cock made as it churned her incestuous pussy cream into butter. Mom struggled again, her hands pulling at the rail, and after pulling out too far because I wanted to hammer her cunny hard, Mom escaped my cock and fell to the stairs. She crawled upward as I slipped back and down a step, catching myself as my eyes fell on the black bag hiding her dildo. I ran down the stairs with my cock bobbing, grabbed the bag, and turned back to Mom, who was still crawling up the stairs.

“Fuck,” I growled as I chased her, shucking my clothes and getting naked, taking her dildo out and holding its floppy silicone body in my hand.

Mom looked over her right shoulder, her eyes widening as she saw me, her naked son, marching toward her with a raging cock between his legs and another one in his hand. Mom doubled her efforts, her tennis skirts flopping up and down, giving me a peep show of her ass cheeks and asshole, the pink line of her clam dripping with juice. I reached her as her upper body hit the second-floor landing, but her knees were still two steps below the second floor.

Catching my mother, I wrapped my right arm around her waist and held her still, the dildo against her skin. Lining my cock up to her muff with my left hand, I pushed into her hole, her twat tunnel gripping me hard as I forced her pussy muscles to stretch and her channel to expand.

“God damn,” Mom grunted. Her voice sounded low and stressed as I filled her core with cock. “So fucking deep, baby.”

I pumped her pretty pussy several times, feeding her my sausage as her little oven-baked my flesh. Mom fucked me back, tried to run, then fucked me back again as I grabbed her long hair with my left hand, turning it into a flaxen ponytail. I used it to hold her in place by pulling her head up and back. I swung my right hand from around her waist and ran the head of the dildo between her cheeks. The knob touched my cock as I drenched the silicone in her cummy honey.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mom uttered, turning her head and fighting my hold on her hair. I brought the dildo around, going for my mother’s mouth, the crown touching her ear, then her cheek, sliding toward the corner of her lips, and she smacked it from my hand.

“Fuck,” I growled, going after the dildo as it fell onto the landing.

Mom crawled away, stood, and fell against the wall. She walked on shaky legs and bent knees, passing her office on her way to her bedroom. I picked up the dildo and followed her, my feet thumping on the carpet. Once in her room, she stumbled to her bed and crawled across her mattress, stopping at the headboard. She turned around, her eyes looking at the door, but I had walked to the side of her bed. When she turned her head to look at me, I grabbed her hair and pulled her toward my cock.

“Umm,” Mom gulped, the sound wet and full around my prick.

Even as my mother sucked me off, her right hand dug at her nightstand drawer. I pulled it open for her, and she grabbed a box of wet wipes that lay inside. She grabbed a wipe and thrust it at her new toy. I looked down, seeing carpet fibers on the cock. Putting her plan together, I grabbed the wipe and rubbed it over her dildo, cleaning it before slipping my cock from her mouth and replacing it with her new, cock-shaped lollipop.

I moved onto the bed and between Mom’s legs, forcing them open while she sucked on the dildo I held in her mouth. She grabbed it and kept sucking while I pushed her tennis skirt up and flopped my hard cock onto her pubic hair, then down between her legs. After a couple of back and forth slides, I found Mom’s pussyhole and pushed inward. Her insides parted with a tight, squeezing friction that released several ropes of precum from my balls.

“I like it when you don’t wear panties, Mom,” I whispered, dropping down on her body and pressing my mouth to her left ear. She kept sucking the cock over my left shoulder, holding her right elbow out while she slid her left hand around my side and settled it on my back. “I don’t think I’m going to let you wear panties anymore.”

“Umm, umm, mmm, umm,” Mom moaned, her words garbled around the dick in her mouth.

I slid my hands down to Mom’s naked ass, grabbed ahold of her soft cheeks, squeezed them hard, and started fucking her incest-loving pussy without mercy. I moved my hands down her cheeks as she lifted her knees, her feet touching the sides of my thighs. My fingers brushed her outer pussy lips from the sides and then touched her inner fold. Her hole was wide open around my cock and stretched to its limits around my thickness.

Voices from those fuckers who had watched my mother play with herself came back to me. I grunted, “Tell me, Mom,” after a hard series of pussy pummels that had forced the dildo out of her mouth. “Tell me you’re my slut.”

“Oh, fuck,” Mom gasped, the dildo falling from her hands, its silicone body thumping on the floor. “Oh, fuck, baby, I’m your slut.” Mom wrapped her other right arm around me. “Baby, you fuck me so good.”

I pressed my cock deep into her, making her gasp, and I said, “This is my pussy.” I ground my dick inside of her, turning my hips in circles, the base of my cock straining against her mound as I corkscrewed my dick into my mother. “You’re my pussy, and no one else’s.”

“No one else’s, baby,” Mom whimpered, her voice breaking. “My pussy belongs to you.”

“Only me.”

“Only you, oh–fuck!”

I started fucking her hard. Mom came, her twat turning into a creamy mess of white froth. I kept it up, and as her orgasm ended, another one hit her, making her squeal and lock her ankles around my back. I kept pumping her twat, pounding her pussy into poi as my cock slid in and out of her tunnel. Her pussy’s grip had turned wetter but no less tight, and the tingles in my cock caused my shoulders to tremble as chills ran through my muscles.

“Oh, oh, god, fuck, oh fuck!” Mom whimpered and whined, her voice turning high-pitched as another orgasm shocked her system. Her eyes shut tight, her cheeks turned pink, and Mom let out a long sob as she started to cry.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Mom,” I panted. “Keep coming, Mom. Keep coming on my fucking dick.”

“No more, no more, no more,” Mom sobbed, real tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

I should have made her wear mascara.

“I’m almost there,” I said, my knob tingling as the sides of Mom’s pussy walls jerked me off.

I let go of my mother’s ass and pushed my hands beneath her legs. I grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed them upward, my body following her as I rose above her. I pushed my mother’s legs back to her tits. Her calves and feet pointed upward as I moved into a squat above her pussy. I bent my upper body above hers while keeping her knees to her chest and her legs on my shoulders. Her ass and lower back tilted upward off the bed, the new angle feeding more of her creamy cooze to my cock and giving me deeper penetration than before.

“Ohhhh, gawwwd,” Mom groaned as I filled her snatch to the brim, touching her guts in places where no cock had ever been before.

As I squatted above my mother’s pussy, I adjusted my stance, and she reached behind my neck, locking her fingers together. By the look in her tear-glazed eyes, she knew that she was in for a porn-style fucking that was about to break her pussy in two. She looked scared yet excited. Mom bit her lower lip as I pulled my cock back until only my glans remained within the vulnerable softness between her maternal thighs, and then I just started ramming….

Sometime later, lying next to me on the bed, Mom whispered, “Oh my god, my pussy is sore.” She sighed as she stretched her entire body. “I haven’t been fucked like that since… since… since ever.”

My right hand found Mom’s left hand, and I pulled it to my mouth and kissed the back of it. She purred, rubbing her thighs together as I sat up and swung my left knee over her waist, straddling her. Mom pulled my hand to her mouth, first kissing my fingers and then sucking my thumb between her lips when I pressed it to her flesh.

“Mom,” I whispered, “since your pussy is mine, and you’re my slut”–my heart hammered against my chest, though my cock only inflated to a half-hard, floppy salami–“from now on, I want you to ask me for permission before you have sex with Dad.”

Mom’s eyes widened, then narrowed, and she sucked my thumb into her mouth before saying, “Okay, baby,” in a wet, muffled tone. Her eyes flickered to my cock. “But, let’s give that big boy a rest. I’ve earned a break from your dick.” She glanced at my half-stiff cock, her expression turning into a soft, hopeful plea. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” I said as my cock strained to get fully hard–I had come too much already. “But I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay,” Mom said, releasing my thumb. “I’ll be ready.”

I left her room, grabbed our lunch, warmed it up, and brought it to my mother in her office. I found her as naked as I was, but I went back to my room for some rest.

Lots of rest.

* * * * *

I don’t know how my mother stayed awake to work, but she did. My eyes shut before I hit my bed, sending me off to a dreamland where my father and I smoked cigars and drank brandy while my mother danced for us atop a white-clothed table while wearing a fedora and satin lingerie. When I woke, it was past time for my father to be home, and I had missed a text from Jenna that read, I’m going to do it. OMG! Wish me luck!

That was hours ago. I knew she was going to put her dad to the decision today, and so, with a rising heartbeat, I texted her, Good luck. Love you. I whispered those words while I typed them. A smile spread across my lips when I felt the same warmth for Jenna that I always did. A man could love two women, for whatever reasons, but now I had to find a way to let Jenna in on my secret–with Mom’s permission.

One day, I told myself. Let’s wait until we’re married.

Fear hit me, followed by laughter. I rose from my bed to shower and change into a fresh pair of jeans and a body-hugging T-shirt. Jenna hadn’t returned my text, so I went downstairs with my phone in my pocket.

Dad was walking down the shortcut hallway with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a smile on his face. “It’s about time you got up,” he said, giving me the old wink and a gun hello. “I know this is your summer of fun–or laziness–and you’ve earned it, but try not to sleep all day long.”

I laughed and said, “I’m trying to get enough sleep for the both of us,” as I hit the landing.

“I have that covered,” Dad said, raising his glass of whiskey. “Two of these and a pill, and I’m out until morning.” He stopped. “When do summer workouts begin?”

“They’re optional,” I said, on my way to the kitchen, “but encouraged.” I didn’t want to think about sports. I was good at what I did, but Division I colleges weren’t looking at me. My athletic talent could earn me a walk-on somewhere, but that was about it.

“Then I’m encouraging you to get your butt to those workouts,” Dad said as he sat down on his favorite couch. “You can lounge about when you’re old.”

I laughed as I disappeared down the hallway.

I entered the kitchen, not seeing my mother from the hallway, but I could hear her moving things around in the refrigerator. I turned to the right, seeing Mom with her head in the fridge. A pale yellow summer dress adorned her body, the cotton thin with the illusion of transparency. Mom’s slender legs seemed to glow as they flowed from beneath the hem to her small feet. The dress’ neckline wrapped around Mom’s neck and hid her breasts, but it left her back, shoulders, and arms bare. She had worn her hair down tonight, and my cock twitched when I remembered how I had gathered her hair in a single rein to hold up her head.

“You know what’s strange,” I said. It wasn’t a question. “You no longer have to ask me how my day was. You already know.”

Mom smiled, turning her head toward me, and said, “Maybe it’s all that small talk that keeps most mothers and their sons from trying new things.”

I moved forward, coming up behind her and sliding my hands around her waist.

“Where’s your father?” Mom asked, bending forward, her ass pushing back at me as she reached for a single serving container of yogurt.

“Living room,” I said.

“Listen for him if you’re going to touch me.” Mom straightened her body and stepped back, walking me toward the kitchen island. “We don’t want to get into trouble.”

I hit the edge of the island and pulled Mom to me. She sighed as I slipped out from behind her and let her lean against the marble top. “I need a spoon,” she said. I opened the utensil drawer, grabbed one, and handed it to her as she peeled the foil covering from her container. “You hungry?”

Mom dipped her spoon into the yogurt and pulled out a small scoop. I stepped toward her, opening my mouth as she slid the spoon between my lips. I closed them, and she pulled the spoon away, leaving the cool yogurt in my mouth.

“Are you still hungry?” Mom asked.

I nodded my head, whispering, “Yeah.”

“Show me,” Mom whispered, leaning back against the island and stepping her right leg to the side. The angle of her body pushed her mound outward, and I lowered myself to my knees as my mother dipped her spoon back into the yogurt….

My mouth made wet sounds against my mother’s pussy lips. She continued leaning back, pushing her twat toward my mouth, her bright blonde pubes wet with spit and the cunny juice coating my tongue. She ate her yogurt, her eyes looking toward the shortcut hallway as she strained her head to my left, then turned her eyes toward the dining room, then back to the hallway, then the dining room, ever-moving as I pushed my tongue into her yummy pussyhole and licked her creamy, pink walls.

I tried to capture my mother’s eyes when I pressed the topside of my tongue against her smooth pearl, my mouth closing over her clitoral hood and the upper portion of her pussy lips above her pussyhole. I sucked. Mom trembled, her mouth twitching and her eyes narrowing, her lips pulling inward and outward into a sexy, pouty pucker. I ran my hands over the front of her thighs, then their sides, and around to her hamstrings, where I moved up to her ass and cupped her cheeks in my palms.

“Mmm,” Mom sighed as my fingers moved to her crack. “Ah.” My right hand went between her legs, feathering the curve of her muffin from behind. I loved how a woman’s pussy was made to be reached from all angles. “Ooh.” The middle finger of my left hand pressed against my mother’s rosebud, her pucker damp with sweat from the heat between her cheeks. “I think–I hear–your father!”