A Mother’s Worry – part 31

Mom wasn’t in the living room, so I turned right at the stairs, swung around one-hundred and eighty degrees, and walked straight to the kitchen through the shortcut hallway. My cock, hanging heavy on my sack, thickened with each step. I took a deep breath as my heartbeat swelled. What kinds of thoughts were running through my mother’s head?

I stepped into the kitchen and walked straight to the marble island. Mom sat at the breakfast table as she always did in the mornings, reading the paper as the sun shined through windows and sprinkled her in brightness. She looked clean–angelic–her skin glowed, and the color of her makeup held a subtle, yet vibrant, beauty. She had done her hair up in a bun again, but with long strands hanging down her back. They looked unintentional but were too stylish not to be on purpose. An off-the-shoulder satin crop top covered her body, stopping just below her breasts, and a small pair of tight, satin boyshorts hugged her lower body.

I took a deep breath and asked, “Did you remember not to wear your panties?”

The right side of Mom’s lips twitched, pulling into a smile that she quickly hid. She ruffled her paper, set it down, and turned toward me. Mom scooted her butt to the edge of her seat and spread her knees wide. With her left hand, she reached down to the right side of her crotch, curled her fingers into the leghole, and pulled the fabric to the left. The sun-golden meat of her pussy came into view, her folds pressed together, looking thick and tasty and making my cock go fully hard between one moment and the next.

“Good,” I said.

Mom fixed her shorts. “Now that you have your teen pussy to play with, I guess you don’t need to make me do anything anymore.”

I hoped this was a game.

“That’s not true.”

“How so?”

“I only get Jenna from Friday evening to Sunday evening,” I said. “If I try to touch her any time before or after, her dad might throw another fit.”

“Maybe.”

“And,” I said, “there are things that I can make you do that Jenna won’t do.”

“Dirty things?” Mom asked, dropping her chin and giving me a big, doe-eyed pout.

“Too dirty for a teenager.”

“Like what?”

“Come over here; I’ll show you.”

Mom stood and walked toward me, her body taller but smaller than Jenna’s. She had more grace and less bounce–less shape–though my cock throbbed just as hard for her body as it had for Jenna’s. An ache pulsed through my balls, and the image of my testicles filling with cum shot through my mind. Cum for my mother, I thought, and she was going to get every sticky drop of it.

My hands came up as Mom reached me. I put my right hand behind her neck, and my left hand found her side and slipped around and down, pushing beneath her satin shorts and riding the crack of her ass to the cleft between her thighs. Mom gasped as I cupped her soft pussy from behind, finding her clam damp and the slot between her lips sticky with dew.

“You’re already ready for me,” I whispered, looking into Mom’s eyes as the underside of my cock settled against her stomach.

“Like a good slut,” Mom whispered. Her eyes searched mine. “Am I good slut for you?”

“The best,” I said, my words coming out with a groan as I pressed my lips to my mother’s. Our mouths melded together, sliding and turning, then our tongues slipped forward and touched. Wetness greeted me as I pushed my tongue into my mom’s mouth.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Mom moaned as I sawed my fingers through her pussy lips. She grunted and rose to her toes as I hooked my middle and ring fingers into her snatch and pulled her upward. After several minutes of pussy stroking, I lifted her into the air, my fingers still inside her. Mom spread her legs, circling them around my waist and trapping my cock between her pussy and my stomach. She locked her ankles together, and my fingers stayed buried in her muff, only deeper than before, her wet folds turning mushy beneath my touch.

“Like that, slut?” I asked, my lips moving against hers as the underside of my shaft pressed against her clit.

“Yeah,” Mom moaned, her face trembling as I massaged her insides with my digits. “What things are you gonna make me do, baby?” Mom bit her lower lip as she ground her clit against my cock with side-to-side hip motions as I stroked her from behind. “Dirty things? Nasty things? Naughty things?”

“Very,” I whispered, licking a vertical line across her lips. “Come on.”

I carried Mom out of the kitchen and through the living, putting her on our couch. I curled my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and tugged them from her body, the effort pulling her legs straight into the air. Mom crossed her arms and took hold of her shirt’s hem, taking it off as her small feet fell to the floor. She tossed the shirt over the back of the couch and looked up at me with a wild smile on her face and a playful light in her eyes.

“I want you to eat my asshole.” My heartbeat rose, knocking against the underside of my chest with a beat that sent chills throughout my body. “Jenna did it yesterday.”

“The little slut,” Mom whispered.

“It felt great,” I said, “but there was a lot of laughter involved. She’s too young to take it seriously.”

“I can do better, baby,” Mom said, scooting to the edge of the couch. “I promise.”

Jesus, I thought. Mom loves this. How had she kept this side of her suppressed for so many years?

“Show me,” I said.

“Sit down, baby,” Mom said, sliding off the couch onto her knees.

I sat, and Mom placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed. I sank back. She grabbed me behind my knees and pulled, and I slid my butt toward the edge of the couch. She urged my legs up, and I lifted them. A strange sensation passed through–this position was weird–and a light, hollow buzz swam through my limbs, making them want to shake. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing as I held my legs up, back, and wide, giving my mother’s mouth access to my cock, balls, and asshole.

I’m not going to do this position often, I thought as Mom’s tongue pressed against the bottom of my scrotum and licked upward. I moaned as my face twitched with pleasure. Mom’s tongue traveled up my sack, around it, then up it again, not stopping until she rolled her mouth over my glans and took my mushroom tip into the warmth of her mouth.

“Oh, shit,” I moaned.

“Mmm,” Mom answered with a thick and wet accent.

I kept my eyes closed and my legs up, thinking, Pornstars do this all the time; it’s no big deal! Meanwhile, moans left my lips as my mother covered my cock and balls in her drool and jerked me off at the same time. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere, on my cock, on my balls, the inside of my thighs and lower, finding my asshole and taking my rim for a ride as she jerked off my wet prick. She used a featherlike touch on my backdoor, then wiggled her lingual muscle against my asshole, then feathered me again–her intensity bringing tingles to my skin. The tip of my dick started to itch with the need to come.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned.

“Yeah, baby,” Mom whispered, her lips never leaving my skin. “You’re making Mommy do dirty things, baby. Making me lick your ass like this….” And she licked my ass, my toes curling, and my fingertips digging into my skin. “What would your father think?”

I gasped.

Mom never tried to replace her finger with her tongue–I would have freaked out–and her tongue proved to be more than enough to get my pulse racing. My balls tightened within minutes, and that swirling itch of pleasure continued to dance atop the tip of my prick. I wanted to grab my knob and squeeze. Mom jerked me faster as my cock swelled, and her other hand rose to massage my balls in a caress that made me whimper.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I moaned, my voice trembling and the darkness behind my eyelids exploding with color. I dug my fingertips into the backs of my knees. “Mom, fuck. I’m gonna come hard, Mom. Fuck, Mom. Fuck-fuck-fuck–Mom!”

“Umm,” Mom uttered as she took the head of my cock between her lips and sealed them shut. She never stopped jerking me off or rolling my balls within her fingers. I came, the cum within me seemed to explode from my tip, and Mom sucked it down, drinking it fast and quick. The sounds of her throat gulping down my jizz filled my ears.

I released my legs as my body turned to liquid. Only my orgasm remained, and it continued until I had no pleasure left within my body to give, leaving me an empty husk that could only tremble. As I lay panting and trying to regain my breath, I opened my eyes. Mom had stood, and she was smiling down at me as burning embers backlit the green of her eyes.

“I didn’t just get ahead of my work yesterday,” Mom whispered with a hungry tremor. “I finished today’s work completely.” She turned and started to walk away. “I’ll be upstairs. Your room or mine?”

“Mine,” I said as my pulse slowed and my breathing calmed. “Always mine during the day, where you belong.”

Mom uttered a throaty, excited laugh and went upstairs. I sat on the couch, thinking about what naughty, nasty, and kinky things I should make my mother do next.

* * * * *

I didn’t have many options when it came to getting kinkier with my mother. I didn’t own any toys, straps, restraints, plugs, or dildos–dildos! I went upstairs, turning to the right and walking to my mother’s room as my cock stayed semi-hard against my sack. Inside, I looked in her bedside drawer, where her dildo lay next to a palm-sized bottle of lube. I grabbed them. Before leaving her room, I stopped and looked at my parents’ bed and their bedside drawers.

So much trust between my parents, I thought. As the words lingered in my mind, a chill ran down my spine. Did I count as a betrayal? No. A mother can’t cheat on her husband with her son, right? Yeah, right.

I turned and left the room. Whether it was a betrayal or not, I wasn’t going to stop, and if one day I discovered my own son fucking his mother or even my mother, I’d say, “Way to go, son. Way to go.”

“What the hell is wrong with me,” I said as I reached my bedroom.

Mom hadn’t closed the door. She was on my bed, near the edge, standing on her knees with her hair atop her head, held by two braids that seemed to have no end as they swam through her sunlight hair. How long had I been downstairs? She had grabbed two of my belts. One lay crosswise on the bed in front of her knees. She had folded the body over itself the way a pissed-off father might before he threatened to spank his daughter, and the other she had wrapped around her neck like a leash, the long end pulled forward and hanging over her left shoulder.

“Well,” Mom whispered, looking at the dildo in my hand. “What have you come here to make your mother do now?”

I sighed as I dropped my eyes between my mother’s legs. She was standing with her knees spread, and the point of her blonde pussy glistened, ending in a wet, pink line that the sunlight pouring through my bedroom windows lit from behind.

“Everything,” I said and walked forward with my heart thumping and my cock swelling.

Our mouths met, our tongues danced, and I dropped onto the comforter in front of the belt laid out in front of my mother’s knees. My right hand grabbed onto Mom’s makeshift leash and pulled, not hard, but Mom reacted as if I had.

“Uh,” she groaned, tilting her head back and arching her spine as she pushed her hips forward. I pressed my lips harder against hers, and I brought my left hand forward, cupping her silky pussy and pushing my middle finger into the dewy slickness between her cunny lips.

“Have you been a bad girl, Mom?” I asked, the words pouring out of me with no thought behind them. “Has my mother been bad?”

“Yes,” Mom whispered, nodding her head and looking up at me. Her eyes looked big and glazed, as though she were drunk, and her movements had a slow sensuality that reminded me of walking in a dream. “I have.”

My cock rose from my sack, turning rock-hard and pushing into my mother’s stomach. Mom’s hands came up, grabbing my shaft, one atop the other, and she started a double-fisted jerk over my cock. I looked down, moaning, and so did she, opening her mouth. Her spit landed atop my knob a second later, and her hands rolled over it, pulling the saliva down my shaft toward my balls. Mom jerked me fast and hard, producing sticky-wet music as she drooled more of her spit over my prick.

“Ah, you fucking slut,” I moaned.

“Yeah,” Mom said in a rough voice. “I’m a dirty, naughty slut who needs a spanking.”

I laughed, thinking, I was getting to that! But what I said was, “You’ve needed a spanking for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Too long, baby.” Mom’s words trembled. “It’s been at least eighteen fucking years since your father last hit me.”

“Hit?”

“Spanked,” Mom whispered, “but it sounds so fucking hot to say ‘hit.'”

I nodded my head as I slid a second finger into my mother’s slippery muff. She was so soft and warm on the inside, and the deeper I went, the slicker and hotter her insides grew. There was another world within my mother’s pussy, made of tenderness and gooiness and elastic softness that made me tingle down to my very soul.

“Get on all fours,” I ordered in a harsh whisper.

Mom pouted, but she let go of my cock and turned to her left, dropping down onto her hands in front of me. I pulled her leash, first to my right, then forward and away from me, having to stretch my arm and lean my upper body over my mother. The belt loop tugged on her neck, and she turned away from me, crawling around and forward until she had presented me with her little feet, her sexy pussy, and her small ass.

I dropped to my knees, my instincts taking over. Mom’s small feet seemed spotless. My mouth descended, my tongue came out, and I watched–a silent observer–as I placed the tip against the sole of Mom’s foot and licked upward.

“Ooh,” Mom gasped, her words light, airy, and trembling.

I licked her foot again, concentrating on the center, and Mom’s entire body trembled. I grabbed her foot, lifting it, her knee bending, and I took several of her toes into my mouth. (Thank god Mom kept her floors in pristine condition.)

“Shit,” Mom hissed. “Oh, baby, no, they’re so sensitive–oh my god!”

I devoured her toes, sucking on each little nub, moving my tongue across their length, and licking between each one. As I wet them, I moved my thumbs over the soles of her feet, massaging her, and Mom’s body shook with every push across her skin. I kept my eyes open, looking at her feet and upward, between her legs, where her pussy pulsed whenever I licked, sucked, or massaged her extra hard. I went from one foot to the other, making sure to give each foot the tender care it deserved. Mom whimpered and gasped the entire time. The longer I did this, the wetter her pussy became until a thick sheen of honey left her pussy crease bright pink and glossy and ready for some thick and meaty family cock.

“Bring your feet together,” I said as I stood, but I didn’t rise all the way. I kept my knees bent, and when Mom’s heels touched, as did her toes, I took my cock and slipped it between the narrow, oval gap between the inner sides of her tiny feet.

“Oh,” Mom rasped. “You’ve become a nasty fucker, Mark. Nasty, nasty, nasty, fucking my feet like that.”

I don’t think I’d ever heard her voice sound so rushed before.

I fucked her feet for a little while, saying, “I’m going to come on these tiny beauties one day, and you’re going to lick them clean.”

Mom moaned, and her shoulders and back contorted as a shiver trembled through her body. I gave her feet several more strokes before I straightened and grabbed the second belt from the bed. I held the belt just under its midway point, still folded in half, making it easier to swing. Mom tensed, and when I grabbed the leash around her neck and pulled, forcing her neck and back to arch, she dug her fingers hard into the comforter beneath her.

“How bad have you been, Mom?” I gave the belt-whip several light practice swings off to the side. Mom tried to turn her head to the right. “How bad?”

“Very bad,” Mom gasped. “I’ve teased my son until he couldn’t take it. Until he had no choice but to put his bid, incest dick in me.” She moaned. “I’m an incest whore, Mark. I’m a family fucker. A son sucker. I’ve been so–ah!”

The belt snapped against her right ass cheek. A red mark appeared across her flesh. I hadn’t hit her hard, and I didn’t plan to, but I had hit her harder than I had meant.

“Oh, baby,” Mom moaned as if she had just come. “Spank me again.”

I brought the belt up so that the folded loop landed on my right shoulder, then I snapped it down. Mom yelped as a white line formed across her cheek. It quickly turned red. I spanked her again. A growl left Mom’s lips, almost a bark. I lifted my left arm high, stopped only by Mom’s leash, and I brought the belt across my body and to my left, spanking my mother’s other ass cheek.

“Baby,” Mom whined. “Oh, baby, spank me harder–harder!”

An ache ran through my cock as my stiffness nearly snapped in two.

I spanked my mother harder.

She whined.

“Play with your pussy,” I whispered. “You’re going to come while I punish you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mom gasped. “Make your mother come with that belt.”

And so I did.

Mom’s left hand appeared between her legs, her fingers pressing into her soft muff. First, she gathered her juices, then she banged her pussy with her middle and ring fingers, pushing her pussy lips inward as she dipped into her softness. I rained blows upon her ass, light ones, hard ones, stiff ones, stinging ones, loud ones, and everything between. Mom’s pussy gushed. She spread her knees wide, lowering her body, and I slackened my grip on her leash. She planted her forehead on the bed and went at her pussy with both hands, diddling her clit while she slid several digits into the pink cleft between her legs. Her lips bulged, and her asshole spasmed–her moans came in harsh, animalistic grunts. When Mom came, she cried, squirting her cum onto my bed as my leather belt snapped against her ass again and again.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” Mom panted, falling to the bed as I let go of the leash.

I had reddened her ass, but I hadn’t left welts. She probably wouldn’t mind, I thought, but I preferred my mother’s skin smooth.

“Oh, fuck, baby boy,” Mom said, sighing and crawling up the bed. “What’s next?”

I swallowed, having to work my lips before I managed to say, “Your virgin asshole.”

* * * * *

“Oh, oh, ooh, oh,” Mom moaned into the pillow beneath her face. My mother–my fucking mother–lay naked in the center of my bed, with one thick pillow beneath her hips and stomach, propping her ass into the air and another beneath her face, unable to muffle her moans. “Ohhhhh–fuck!” I had removed her leash from around her neck.

“That’s it, Mom, take it,” I whispered.

Mom’s ass shined with her lube. I had gotten carried away, pouring the thick liquid in her crack and around her cheeks and down between her thighs, making her swollen pussy folds glisten. She had her legs spread wide, her knees out to the side in a frog squat. I was kneeling between her calves, with my left hand rubbing her pussy as I pumped my middle finger in and out of her virgin asshole.

My finger looked huge as it pushed her little pucker inward. Her wrinkled rosebud didn’t want to give, and the rubbery muscles refused to relax. Even with the lube, the tight seal of her anal ring around my digit felt like it was going to crush my finger. I couldn’t wait to get my cock into her, but first, I had to loosen up my mother’s butt.

“That good, Mom?”

“Oh, fuck,” Mom moaned. “It’s so… so… so god damn good.”

I eased my middle finger into her ass up to the second knuckle and wiggled it around. Mom purred as I rubbed the sides of her hot anus. The sensation came from her anal ring and where my fingertip brushed her insides, but there was nothing gripping the length of my digit within her ass. I pushed into the last knuckle, mashing my closed fingers against her cheeks, and I felt something rubbery touch my fingertip. I pulled my finger out and pushed back in. Out and in. Out and in–Mom groaning–and then I finger-fucked my mother’s rear passage as fast as I could.