small Chapter 157: A Mother's Worry (77k), a 13 tzameti fanfic

A Mother's Worry - Incest/Taboo -

118-thousand words. Mom/Son, slow seduction. Sex-sex-sex.

117.9k words

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Tagline: A protective mother will do anything to keep her son from making a mistake that could harm his future, and anything means anything.

Mom/Son - Incest - Taboo - Long Story - Buildup - Edging - Teasing - Slow Burn - Coercion - Guilt - Giving In - Love - Romance - Public Sex - Exhibitionism - Voyeurism - Straight Sex - Oral Sex - Hand Job - Dom/Sub/Switch - Rimming - Anal Sex - Lots of Sex - Virgin Girlfriend - Cherry Busting - First Time - Taking Pictures of Mom - Kinky Mom - Wild Mom - Sleeping Pills - Sleep Sex - Graphic Sex

My Eighteenth Birthday

I'm going to get right into it because this is still blowing my mind. It was summertime, and I had just turned eighteen with one more year of high school to go. So, now I'm an adult. I can do everything an adult can do but drink, so I get most of the benefits, but I also get all the blame. There are some serious consequences to my actions I had never thought about before, not really, and to tell you readers the truth, I don't give a shit about the unfair consequences that could befall me now. A jury would understand, right? I would. But just because I don't care, it doesn't mean that my mother doesn't. My mother cares. She cares a whole motherfucking lot.

As I've said, I'm eighteen years old, and so is my girlfriend, older than me by a month. I've known her for my entire life. She's my neighbor. You see, we've been together for a long time. A long time and we've had opportunities to really be together, but we've held off, and why? Because we're good people who do what our parents say--and that's a problem--but we promised to take things slow, and so we did. And now, we're both eighteen, and guess what? We can do whatever we want now, or so we had hoped.

You see, no one had had a problem with my relationship with Jenna--I'm Mark, by the way--not my mother, not my father, not Mr. and Mrs. Mason, not anyone, until Mr. Mason walked in on me with a mouth full of his daughter's hairless pussy right after I turned eighteen. That was her first birthday present to me. Could you blame me... or her? Jenna was fucking hot, and I--we--were both in need of some loving. How could we not be?

We're both teens, and porn was everywhere. Sex sells, and teens are supposed to resist their urges while under the onslaught of 13 Reasons Why, Euphoria, and Taylor Swift writing songs about every guy she's taken between her legs (Does she still do that? I don't know.) Then there's Miley Cyrus being a whore (or she was a whore at one time), and Ariana Grande once talked about dick size and how being big was good, and then there's social media oozing sex all the fucking time. You can't watch a teen drama without someone getting fucked. If people were fucking at my age before the invention of TV, then why the fuck wouldn't modern teens want to blow a load or two as often as possible? Sex is everywhere, and we like it. Hell, at eighteen, we need it.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, Jenna was fucking hot. There's more to her than hotness, but she was fucking hot. She has long blonde hair, tan skin, an oval face, bright blue eyes, and perfect teeth. Her tits are over a handful in size, and her stomach drops straight down with an almost six-pack look that ends at the cut in her hips leading into the smooth skin of her mound and the bare lips below. She doesn't like hair. She doesn't want any. It gets in the way of her sexy bikinis and her even hotter panties. While her pussy is heaven, she has one hell of an ass. She has a soccer chick's round butt, firm thighs, and long legs. You can't beat that for sexiness.

Dad used to say, "She reminds me of your mother," before Jenna entered high school, and sports thickened her body.

Earlier today, we were on her sofa, and she was wearing a black shirt with white trim, and printed across the front was the word EASY. She was also wearing a pink schoolgirl skirt that was way too short for school, and if a girl was going to wear that, she had better expect to be flashing her panties to the world. Lucky for me, Jenna doesn't mind one bit. She was wearing the skirt for me. We were on her couch, and her panties were lying on her coffee table, and that's when the lock on the front door rattled.

We parted in a hurry and went back to watching TV as her dad walked into the house. He greeted us--I could tell he was still pissed at me for eating his daughter's pussy at midnight--then he went to the kitchen, and then he came back, and that's when he grew silent. It was kind of freaky. We both looked at him, and we both noticed that his eyes were staring at the ultra-small, transparent panties his daughter had been wearing. This was right after he had caught me going down on his daughter and had told us both to knock it off until the real adults could discuss their children's new superpowers--the powers to fuck, I guess.

So... ah shit.

"Jenna," he said in a calm voice that was more unsettling than if he had yelled. "Put your panties back on right now."

Jenna stood, grabbed them, and facing sideways to her father and me; she straightened her panties in her hands, then she lifted her right foot and put them through the strings of her leg hole, and then her left foot, and then she pulled them up her legs, fitting them into place. Her hips shuffled, and her skirt came up over her thighs, baring the sides of her hips to her father and me, along with a flash of her muff as her skirt flared when she adjusted the crotch against her softness.

Her dad left the room after that. I left the house shortly after, walking to my house next door. That night, my parents talked with Jenna's dad, and Jenna's dad told them that if this continues, he will end our relationship himself. He said the entire "I'm her father, she'll do as I say while she lives under my roof," spiel--what the fuck, right? Did he think his daughter didn't have an appetite for cock?

Fuck him.

Fuck him!

That's what Jenna and I said, but my parents agreed with his parents, especially my mother.

"Do you want to be like those teen parents on TV?" Mom asked. "They're the lucky ones. Do you know how many teen parents have to put their lives on hold because they got pregnant too early." She shook her head at me. "You know what? It stops now. Get through college, and then you have all the sex you want. If you don't stop your behavior with Jenna"--Mom lifted her right hand and spun her forefinger around--"is gone. You'll have to get a job. You'll have to pay your fair share. No more free rides. Do you understand me?"

Fuck my parents, too--not in a bad way--just their idea of going along with Mr. Mason.

So, Jenna and I decided that late on my eighteenth birthday, we were going to fuck just to fuck our parents over. In hindsight, it was stupid to think that way, but when you're young, you do stupid shit without thinking. Lucky for me, during the party, my mother had watched Jenna and me all night long.

We had the party at my house, nothing special, just a bunch of eighteen-year-olds running around in boardshorts and bikinis, grilling food, and drinking sugary liquids that we poured alcohol into on the sly. Mom watched us. First, from the outside, when the party had just started, then she went inside, and I could feel her green eyes on me from her upstairs bedroom. Jenna sat on my lap, and we kissed once, and Mom appeared outside less than a minute later to ask us if we needed anything.

We didn't.

Several of my friends had told me to tell my mother to put on her bikini and join us, which led to me throwing them in the pool against their will, but that's life for you when your mother was a MILF, and she was a MILF. When I was younger, before I became aware of my mother as a woman, I always used to tell her how beautiful she was, which she loved to hear. She thought it was cute, and I'd never fail to remind her how beautiful she was compared to everyone else. Then I discovered masturbation... and flirting with my mother, as my father called it--without telling me what flirting meant--came to an end.

My mother was tall and willowy, with smooth, light golden skin and long, layered, sun-blonde hair--flaxen hair descended from her Norwegian blood--that almost glints white in the sunlight. She has elegant features and high cheekbones, the kind that any fantasy fanboy may have imagined a regal elven queen to bear. She's slender and tight, with a flowing body unobstructed by the cut of leanness that some CrossFit moms have going for them. Her breasts were just over a handful, while her butt was small, widening sideways from her hips like a pear. Her cheeks were round and as golden as the rest of her skin thanks to the sunbathing she did in her whale-tale, micro G-strings that I'm sure I'm not supposed to know about, but I did.

I haven't seen her in them, but what kind of boy hasn't rummaged through his mother's panty drawer at least once in their lifetime? (A normal fucking boy, I'd guess.)

So, Mom left us once Jenna slid off my lap. The party continued until sundown when people started heading home. Jenna and I changed into shorts and shirts, then we watched a movie with my parents, cut some cake in a quiet ceremony around my dinner table with my loved ones, and then Jenna and I went up to my bedroom. Mom's eyes followed us, but mostly they followed me, and Dad called us over to tell the both of us what Jenna's father and my mother expected from us--A soldier-like dedication to their orders.

"You've waited eighteen years," Dad said, "so what're another four?" He lowered his voice to a whisper then. "Do well in college, and I bet you'll only have to wait two more years."

We nodded our heads, and we went to my room to say, "Fuck our parents," in the most physical way possible.

I should have known that my mother wasn't about to let that happen.

Mom's Nose in My Business

As soon as my bedroom door closed, Jenna and I pressed our lips together as we tumbled toward my bed. Our mouths opened, our tongues came out, and I slid my slippery appendage into the warmth of Jenna's mouth. She uttered soft whimpers while our kisses melded together. I pushed her shirt above her tits and pulled her bra beneath them. My hands squeezed her breasts, maybe a bit hard, but she seemed to like it as she spread her legs for me on my bed, my cock pumping blood and plumping up to its full hardness just in time to spear the center groove between her legs. We dry humped each other, the cloth of my basketball shorts digging into the fuzziness of her cotton boy shorts and the softness beneath them.

"We have to be quiet," I whispered as Jenna panted and moaned with a desperate need for my touch.

"Turn your music on," she said.

"They'll know," I said. "It's too obvious."

I squeezed her tits against, then pinched her thick, peach-colored nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

"Ooh," she gasped.

I lowered my head, taking the right nub into my mouth and licking all around her areola. Jenna spread her knees wide and humped her hips up at me, sliding her cotton-covered muff against the head of my prick.

I moaned around her tit.

She moaned, pushing my head against her breasts.

I ground my cock into her muff meat as hard as I could.

"Shit," Jenna whispered. "I'm so fucking wet for you, baby."

"Jenna--"

Knock, knock, knock, my door rattled, and then the doorknob turned, but not much because I had locked it. Then someone--Mom, I already knew--knocked harder on my door and turned my lock like a panicked woman running from a serial killer.

"Mark, open this door!" Mom shouted. "Now!"

"Are you fucking kidding me," I said, rolling off Jenna and sitting up. My cock sprung upward, turning my shorts into a big top circus tent.

"Mark!"

"Give me a second," I shouted back. "Fuck!"

"Mark!"

"I'll open it," Jenna said, pulling her bra up and her shirt down. "Here, baby, cover that dick."

She handed me a pillow that I placed over my lap, and for a moment, I thought there was a better way to hide my erection, but then I thought, Fuck it. Mom should know what she interrupted. Jenna skipped to the door as my mother banged on it again. She unlocked it, opened it, and Mom stormed in as if she could still catch us doing something illicit.

"What are you two doing?" Mom asked, swinging her gaze from me, to Jenna, back to me, and my lap. "Well?"

"I was just leaving," Jenna said, leaving my room and calling over her shoulder, "Call me later."

"Mark," Mom said, "we need to talk."

She shut the door, and I sighed as she came to sit next to me on the bed.

Great, just fucking great.

I was about to talk to my mother while sporting wood, and we both knew it.

How fucked up was that?

Mom's Concern

The first thing I noticed was that my mother had not changed out of her clothes from earlier: a pair of jeans and a white shirt. It wasn't so late that she needed to change, but it was Saturday night, and she wasn't going anywhere.

"I came here to tell you to leave your door open, and this is what I find," Mom said, shaking her head at me.

I looked at her clothes and said, "You were coming up here no matter what. You could have told us to leave the door open on our way upstairs, but you wanted to catch us doing something."

"I did not." Mom looked at me, sitting on the bed with a pillow over my lap, and she frowned, then her eyes widened, and she looked away. Sighing, she walked to the bed and sat down near the end, facing forward and keeping her eyes off of me and my erection. "I came here hoping that you were doing as I had told you to do, but you weren't, were you?"

"I'm eighteen."

"And that's still too young for today's world. You don't even know if you'll be together forever."

"We're adults now," I said, narrowing my brows. I hated it when my mother said something that made sense. I thought I'd be with Jenna forever, but did I know that for sure?

"That doesn't matter." Mom took a deep breath. "You may not understand it now, but one in-the-moment mistake could cost you years of your life. You may have to put off college. You may decide not to return. A baby could change the entire trajectory of your life. You don't need to be sexual just because you've turned eighteen."

"We haven't had a chance to be sexual," I said.

"Sexual means everything up to and including sex," Mom said, turning a sideways glare on me. "Everything you do tempts you to do more, so that means no kissing, no touching, no looking at each other naked, and no sexy text messages."

I laughed.

"I mean it," Mom said. "I know how teenagers are with their phones."

"Jenna's dad isn't serious," I said. "She'd hate him for the rest of his life if he kept us apart. It's a dad thing. It'll pass." By now, my hard-on had softened some. I turned on the bed as my cock lay in a tube-like state over my sack. I slid the pillow off to the side and crossed my legs on the bed, the bulge in shorts no longer as obscene as it had been before Mom had knocked on my door. "Trust me."

"No." Mom turned to me. "You trust me. You don't want to be an eighteen-year-old dad."

That was true, but that wasn't going to happen. That only happened to irresponsible people, and Mr. Charles Mason--what an almost terrible name Jenna's dad had--was going to have to accept the fact his daughter was growing up, and she was eager to join the adult world.

"I'm eighteen years old," I said, and though I tried to mimic my father's stern tenor, my next words still trembled, and my heart still sped up as I added, "I have needs, Mom."

Mom laughed without humor.

"Can't you go back to holding hands?" Mom asked. She faced me, her regal features hanging low, the way a puppy might after its master had given it a stern yell. "Waiting another four years is not that long when compared to the rest of your life."

My mother was right, but fuck that, I had a cock to satisfy, and Jenna wanted sex as much as I did.

I shook my head.

"Can't you watch porn?" Mom asked.

I laughed a little and said, "No," while still chuckling.

"Can't you," Mom said, cringing, "just cheat on her?"

"What?"

"Just a little?" Mom pressed her lips together, her face trembling. "No one has to know. I'll help you find someone who Jenna will never meet. We'll find you an older woman who doesn't have to worry about pregnancy. I mean it, Mark: a mistake with Jenna could ruin your relationship, your friendship, and your lives."

"I'm not cheating on Jenna," I said, shaking my head. "How can you ask me that? That's a crazy idea. Plus, I love--"

"You don't even know what love is." Mom's eyes narrowed, and that sad kitty look took on a fearsome expression. "You're doing this out of spite. We told you no, so you're going to show us that you don't have to listen to us anymore, aren't you?"

"Mom--"

"No," Mom said. "I bet you would run off with the first woman who showed any interest in you."

"She'd have to be one beautiful woman," I said, laughing and trying to soften my words. Cheat on Jenna? Mom was crazy.

"How beautiful?" Mom leaned forward, looking me in the eye.

"She'd have to be," I said, leaning forward and trying to keep my laughter in check, "as beautiful as you."

Mom blinked.

I let my laughter escape my lips as I turned away from my mother's gaze.

"And since there is no woman as beautiful as you," I said, "I guess we're going to have to hope that Mr. Charles Mason--I'll call him Charles too now that I'm an adult--is bluffing about keeping us apart. He's going to ruin his relationship with Jenna if he does."

Mom stood, glaring at me, then she turned and headed for my door. I can't be sure, but I thought I heard her mumble, "As beautiful as me."

My mother wasn't stupid.

How many blonde, sun-lit women with an inner glow and the regal bearing of a Lord of the Rings elf queen were walking around in the world within reach of us--that would also fuck me on a whim and couldn't get pregnant?

None but her--and she could still get pregnant--not that I meant that she'd fuck me, that thought had never entered my mind. But there was no one as beautiful as my mother anyway, and so she was shit-out-of-luck when it came to convincing me to cheat on my girlfriend--or so I had thought at the time.

The Tipping Point

Mom's words had reached me. I wasn't deaf or completely stupid. Later, while alone, in the middle of the night, when the world was pitch black, and the weight of the future loomed over everyone, the skin-shivering and bone-chilling fear of living life as an eighteen-year-old dad hollowed out my insides, making it difficult for me to fall asleep.

It had taken a while.

Most of that fear had bled out of me by the time I had awakened. Later, the sight of Jenna in the afternoon and the feel of her lips helped me find my courage, but I still sat Jenna down to talk to her about my mother's concerns.

"Fine, we'll take it slow," Jenna said between planting soft kisses on my lips, "but my pussy is getting fucked by you and that big dick of yours soon."

My cock jumped, and soon would have meant right then if my mother hadn't joined us in the living room. I didn't even know what we were watching. We had stopped in the middle of choosing something from a streaming site involving laser swords and half-naked alien women with tails on their heads when Mom had joined us. We chose a movie, and I'm sure both of us hoped that Mom would get up and go away.

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She didn't.

The living room in my house has a simple setup. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall in line with the front door, with two sets of motorized, retractable curtains. The curtains closer to the window were white and transparent, while the second set were thick, blackout curtains for when Dad fires up his flat-screen TVs--yes, that's plural. He thinks he lives in a sports bar. Facing the TVs are three white couches set in a horseshoe pattern with a glass coffee table and other living room stuff that most homes have. Jenna and I cuddled together on one of the side couches while Mom sat on the long couch directly facing the TV, meaning we couldn't really see her unless we looked behind and to the side of us.

We didn't look at her.

Instead, we watched the movie while Mom watched us. I don't know if Jenna could feel it, but I could feel Mom's green eyes cutting into me with the surgical precision of one of those laser swords on TV. (I know it's not called a laser sword. I don't care.) I cared about Mom's eyes, watching, and judging--perving on us like some almost forty-year-old nun eager to unsheathe her yardstick and slap the devil out of us. That thought conjured the image of an Italian nun--because all of the sexy nun pornos I've seen were Italian--bending Jenna over a table and spanking my girlfriend's butt until her cheeks turned red. That was a good thought. It was such a good thought that my cock sprung to life beneath my jeans, pushing into Jenna's ass. Jenna didn't hesitate to push back against my prick with my mother right there!

Did Mom think her eyes were going to keep us from having our fun? At some point, people who believe that other people were watching them eventually go nuts. So, what would happen to someone who knew that someone was watching them? I didn't know, but I did know that I wouldn't let Mom embarrass or intimidate me into a life of abstinence. If she was going to invite herself into my world with Jenna, then I was going to let her watch.

I had my arms around Jenna, but as these thoughts went through my head, and she pushed her butt against the growing concern in my pants, I raised my right hand--my top hand--and I placed it on my girlfriend's side and squeezed.

Jenna shifted, uttering a laugh that she had tried to contain, and my cock swelled to its full hardness. As I thought, Let Mom watch, my heart sped up, and a chill raced across my shoulders, riding my arms down to my wrists and leaving my insides buzzing with an energy that wanted to escape my body. I curled my fingertips over Jenna's side, caressing her, and without thinking, I pushed my cock into her butt while knowing that Mom was watching us.

Could Mom see my minuscule movements?

I pushed harder into Jenna, and she pushed harder against me. With Jenna cradled in my arms, I could see the profile of her face, and when I urged my prick into her ass, which was only covered by those cute cotton sweatpants that women like to wear, the corner of her lips pulled into a wide smile. I could see pink in her cheeks. As her smile widened, she pushed her butt harder against me, giving my member a soft grind, which sent an electric pulse through my pole from the tip of my dick down into my balls. I had to fight off a moan, but I tightened my ass cheeks and pushed my tented pants deeper into Jenna's crack, my skin warming and the pace of my heart's thumping increasing. What was Mom going to do about this?

"I'm cold," Jenna said, turning her head to look over her shoulder at me. "Can you get a blanket?"

"Yeah," I said.

On the living room's couches, a blanket lay draped over each of the backrests. I grabbed the one from our couch and slid it over our bodies. I thought I heard Mom make a noise, but Jenna's giggle as she wiggled her butt against the ache in my pants kept me from being sure.

Now what, Mom?

"Jenna," Mom said in a quiet tone that shot from her to us in a straight line. "It's time for you to go home."

Holy fuck, had I asked that question aloud?

Jenna looked at my mother.

I looked at my mother, but this wasn't my house. I could argue about some things, but I couldn't tell my mother what to do in her own home.

"Okay, Mrs. Hornsby." Jenna swung her left arm upward, pushing the blanket from her body and over mine, baring my front and the sideways pyramid my cock had turned my pants into. I covered myself as Jenna stood, turned, and bent at the waist as she pressed her lips to mine for a quick, barely-there kiss. "I'll see you later."

"Now," Mom snapped.

Jenna's eyes widened, and she straightened her back and ducked her head as she quick-stepped it through the living room and out of my mother's house.

"Mom," I said, sitting up. "What the hell?"

There was so much I could have said, but that's what came out of my mouth. Mom, what the hell?

"Mark--"

"It's going to happen," I said, my heart pumping hard as a white-hot fire raced through my veins, reddening my cheeks.

I stood, not caring that I still had a hard-on as the blanket fell away from me. Mom's eyes darted to my crotch, widening, then she looked back at me with a strange defiance in her eyes.

"We're going to have sex soon." I licked my lips. "There's nothing that you, Mr. Mason, or Dad can do about it. I mean it. And everyone is going to have to live with it."

I walked out of the living room as Mom called, "Mark! Mark, get back here! Mark!"

My expression went from stern to glaring as I jogged upstairs, increasing my speed to get away from Mom's voice. I slammed my door once I was in my room. After a minute, I rubbed my hands over my face, and through my hair, then I looked at my door and then the doorknob, tempted to go back downstairs. My mother hadn't deserved that. All that she was doing was caring about me. But I didn't go, not until later in the night after my father had come into my room to tell me to make nice with my mother because between Mom and me, there was no question as to whose side he was going to take.

As he left my room, he said, "Hey, I'm not going without sex, too, because of you."

I shook my head and laughed at the casualness of his voice. Taking a deep breath, I smiled and went downstairs to make nice with my mother.

Tipping Point

I came downstairs to see Dad lying on the couch that made up the right side of the horseshoe while Mom sat on the back couch. Dad had a blanket pulled over his body, his head on a pillow, and his remote in his hands. It looked like they were binge-watching an original series, foreign but not dubbed. The show had subtitles.

I walked around the left side of the couch that made up the back of the horseshoe and sat down on the other side of my mother. Mom looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. Mom had changed into a pajama dress, which looked like an overgrown baby blue T-shirt with a cloud print. She sat staring at the TV and leaning against the couch's armrest. Her long legs were visible from the mid-thigh down thanks to the light from the TV, not that there was much light. Not that I was looking. Not really. I was looking at Mom so that I could mouth the words, I'm sorry, but my mother was my mother, and a person couldn't help but notice the smoothness of her swan-like limbs.

Since Mom wasn't turning her head toward me, I concentrated on the movie, turning in her direction every couple of minutes to see if I could get her attention. I couldn't. Which kind of sucked since I didn't want to sit through a subtitle-laden TV show just so I could make nice, but since those damn subtitles held her focus, I sat, and I sat, waiting and hoping that the episode would come to an end.

Coming downstairs to apologize for something was not new to me. I was still in my jeans and shirt, and in my pocket, I had slipped my phone. I reached down into it, pulling it out and lighting up the screen as I nestled into the corner of the couch across from Mom. I swiped and swiped, and Dad said, "That phone better be on mute," so I killed the volume as I looked up at him, but he wasn't looking back at me.

I looked at Mom, who was looking at me, and I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry." She smiled, but her eyes dropped to my phone, and her smile tightened.

I shrugged.

What had she expected?

Mom swung her gaze back to the TV, and I looked back at my phone. I texted Jenna, who returned my text, but we didn't have much of anything interesting to say. We fed each other live updates of our situations, and after sighing in silence, I decided to go back upstairs for some phone sex, and that's when I noticed something different about Mom.

Mom's left hand lay on her thigh, just beyond the hem of her sleeping dress. The hem no longer lay in the middle of her thigh. Her fingers, which were curling and uncurling in near slow motion, had pulled her dress up along her leg so that it now rested between the middle of her thigh and her hip. She kept scratching at her leg, and the hem continued to rise, but only on her left side, the side furthest from Dad. Not that he'd noticed, lying on the side couch as he was, on his back with his eyes glued to the subtitles flashing across the screen.

I looked at the profile of Mom's face, watching as she stared straight ahead, and then I looked down, where her fingers continued to pull the hem of her pajama dress upward. She slid her hand to the side of her thigh, her long fingers inching beneath the hem while her fingertips slid across her skin, and the TV's whitish-blue, sometimes silver-gray light, flashed over her body.

My cheeks flushed.

Mom took a deep breath, and my eyes moved upward, traveling up her body and taking in her flaxen hair, so golden and bright that even in the near darkness, it shined like a beacon of light. My eyes shifted across her body, making the short, sideways journey to her breasts, where they rose and fell with her deep breaths. I saw, for the first time, the way her sleep-dress molded to her form. My cheeks grew hotter, almost burning, and my heartbeat rose as goosebumps sprouted across the surface of my arms. Below my waist, things warmed, causing my cock to stretch and my scrotum to tighten in a pre-hardening ritual that I quickly recognized.

I was now looking at my mother's breasts and the way her cotton nightdress slid down the upper slopes of her tits and curved around, covering her nipples, which had grown stiff and hard sometime before I had laid my eyes on them. And they were stiff and hard, pointing outward like two solid eraser nubs that I couldn't remember sucking on as a newborn, but Mom had claimed that I had. What a weird thought. The dress continued downward, clinging to the round underside of her tits where they connected to her sternum and sides, the fabric shooting straight down her stomach and over her thighs.

Had Mom always worn pajamas that outlined her body as though drawn to her skin? I didn't know, but I couldn't believe that I wouldn't have noticed this kind of sleepwear in the past. Mom's head twitched. I lowered my eyes to my phone, though that guilty look that crossed my face whenever I felt bad punched me right in the nose. I knew it was there, that caught-in-the-headlights look that screamed, I'm GUILTY of something.

Fuck.

Mom made a noise that sounded like a sigh with a shiver running through it. After a second, I looked at my mother again. The skirt of her nightdress lay beneath her butt, leaving her dress draped across her thigh at an angle. Mom shifted, first her shoulders, and the motion swung into her ribs and sides, then her hips. As she scratched at her thigh, still moving the hem of her dress, Mom looked at Dad, who had his eyes fastened to the TV, and then she lifted her butt and made a quick scratch of her cheek that pulled her hem behind her small, round, and pear-shaped butt.

What the fuck was going on?

Mom's head twitched again while I was still thinking about my question. Mom saw me, and I saw her. My heart thumped hard against the underside of my chest, like a man bracing his weight against a door with one hand while delivering hammer blows against its face with the other. Mom smiled. It was a quick action before she looked back at the TV. My mouth went dry because when she had smiled, her eyes had flickered downward, and so had her chin, in such a way that she could only be saying, Have a look, without having to say it aloud.

I'm not stupid.

I'm not slow.

But was I imagining this?

Why would my mom do this?

How beautiful?

As beautiful as you.

That was a question she had asked, followed by the answer I had given. I stared at her naked thigh, with the hem of her dress pulled up to her waist as it curved in a sideways U around her butt. The silver-white light from the TV highlighted the side of her cheek, and my cock hardened so fast I released a groan from my lips.

Mom's lips kind of puckered, then parted, then closed. For a second, her profile had that caught-in-the-headlights look that I had worn minutes earlier, but then it was gone. I had to get out of there. I said nothing as I turned forward on the couch, then rose while tilting to my left and away from my mother and father, hiding my bulging jeans as I quickly walked out of the living room and into the connecting foyer and headed up the stairs.

"Goodnight," I called.

Dad mumbled something.

Mom said nothing.

Once in my room, my pants came off, but my boxer briefs stayed on. I had my phone in my hand, the lights were off, and I was sitting in my bed, texting Jenna and asking her to call me so I could hear her sexy voice.

Before she could text back or call, I didn't know what she was going to do, my door opened. I jumped, and I grabbed the pillow to my right and slammed it over my rock-hard cock, which made me grunt. Mom had stuck her head into my room, but she didn't bother turning on the light. I set my phone face down on the bed.

"Mark," Mom said, "I'm not mad about earlier."

"I know," I said.

"I want you to think about what could happen to you if you do anything with Jenna." Mom paused, and I heard her take a deep breath. "Try, for me, for one week, to abstain from becoming romantic with her. Just try for one week, and maybe some good karma will come your way."

"Good karma?" I asked, unable to keep the laughter from my question.

"Yes," Mom whispered. "Maybe you won't be fooling around with Jenna, but there has to be something in this house that can keep you distracted until you understand the responsibility that comes with having sex."

A buzzing lightness rushed through my body, and I licked my lips, thankful for the darkness.

"Okay?" Mom asked.

I had to take a deep breath before saying, "Okay, Mom," but I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice.

"Goodnight," Mom said. "Love you."

"I love you too," I said as she closed the door.

I looked at my phone, and it only took me a second to decide that phone sex and face time didn't fall under the category of romance.

Less than five minutes later, one of the strongest orgasms of my life tore through my body, leaving me feeling weightless and boneless, my muscles made of jelly. I slept well that night.

It wasn't My Imagination

I awoke the next morning earlier than I usually did that summer. I had worked my ass off during my first three years of high school, and I was going to coast through my senior year, which meant that this would be my first summer off in a long time. Thoughts of returning to my slumber came to me, but in the end, I rolled out of bed, put on my basketball shorts and a T-shirt, and headed to my hallway bathroom to finish waking up before I headed downstairs.

The downstairs has a wraparound floor plan, with the living room to the left, followed by the dining room, then the kitchen, then a hallway that leads to a laundry room, the garage, a great room, and then back to the foyer, staircase, and front door. The great room has a piano, a pool table, a bar, but I don't spend much time in there...

I entered the kitchen at seven in the morning, with the sunlight shining onto the breakfast table through the white curtains hanging over the bay windows. Dad was still home. He wouldn't be leaving until about eight in the morning. Mom worked from home, using her advanced degrees in education to create specialized curriculums for private schools while also selling lesson plans that covered kindergarten through high school graduation to teachers over the internet. She did well enough that Dad often joked about retiring early, by about twenty years.

In the kitchen, I found Dad sitting at the table, reading his newspaper with his back to the window and the sunlight shining onto his paper. Mom was wearing a lavender robe made of silk with the belt looped once, and the two halves met at the center of her body. I noticed it dropped down to the middle of her thighs--something I wouldn't have noticed before last night. I would have seen it, but I wouldn't have noticed it.

"Good morning," Mom said, giving me a smile and even without makeup on her cheeks, and lipstick on her... lips... she still looked beautiful.

Dad's paper fluttered with that crunchy, flappy sound as he snapped it low enough to look at me. "You're up early."

"Good morning." I shrugged and looked about the kitchen and breakfast nook as Dad lifted his paper. "I'm just up."

"Sit," Mom said. "I'll make you breakfast."

"Cereal is fine," I said, taking a seat.

"I said I'll make you breakfast," Mom said.

I sat at the end of the table, to Dad's left. To the left of me was the kitchen island and Mom, who was cooking what smelled like French toast with her back to me and her lower body hidden by the kitchen island.

I looked away from her, thinking, Last night was weird.

When Mom turned around from the stove, she set my plate on the kitchen island and picked up the maple syrup. I looked at her, but she looked at Dad, and as she did, she seemed to become lost in thought. Her eyes never drifted in my direction. She held the syrup in her right hand while her left arm came up, and her fingers slid between her robe's lapels. Rubbing motions followed, almost caresses, and as she pulled her fingers out of her robe, she caught her lapel, pulling her robe open to the left. I had to work saliva back into my mouth as the golden-hued upper swell of my mother's left breast came into view.

Holy shit.

Mom still hadn't looked at me. She stared at Dad's paper, and then she looked down long enough to pour the syrup onto my breakfast before raising her head and looking at Dad once more. She set the syrup down, then reached up with her right hand and slid her fingers beneath her left lapel and rubbed the top of her left breast, with her palm on the outer edge.

Holy shit again.

I watched in silence as her breast moved, not a lot, not even a jiggle, just back and forth with the motions of her fingers. Her hand came away, and her fingers curled around her right lapel, and she pulled that side open, creating a narrow V down the center of her cleavage. Mom shook her head as if ridding herself of whatever thoughts had been running through her mind, then she picked up my plate, walked around the far end of the island and toward me with a new gap in her robe that I had to struggle not to stare at--but wasn't staring the point?

This wasn't my imagination.

Mom was showing herself off to me.

Holy, motherfucking-shit.

Dad read his paper, and I ate, glancing at Mom as much as I could without turning my head to stare at her. Maybe I was supposed to look, but she was still my mother, and I still had a girlfriend. Despite the warmth flowing through my heart and into my skin, turning it red due to my mother's good intentions, a little corner of my mind wanted to curl into a ball and close its eyes. I could hear it chanting, This is weird. This is wrong. This is weird. This is wrong. Lucky for me, the chanting's volume faded with time, as though someone was lowering the volume of a stereo with the unnaturally slow but continuous rotation of its dial.

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Mom spent some time preparing her breakfast at the kitchen island, cutting various fruits as her robe opened a little more, baring more of her breasts, but never as much as I hoped or feared. My heartbeat sped up with every flutter of her clothing, its thin silk sliding over her body, clinging here, gripping there, and rolling like waves with dips and rises as she continued with her task.

She never looked at me, only at Dad, and the one time his paper crinkled as he lowered it, Mom reached up with her left hand and pinched her robe shut. Dad didn't look at her, he was sipping his coffee and had happened to tilt his paper forward, but when it had come down, Mom had covered up. It was at this time my cock, already warm and relaxed, decided to have its first stretch of the morning.

As Dad's paper rose, Mom's robe came open. She finished cutting her fruit for her breakfast and came to the table, sitting across from Dad with an assortment of bite-sized bananas, berries, citruses to nibble on with a side of yogurt for dipping.

She ate. Dad ate. I ate, only I had a view of the inside of Mom's left breast, almost to her nipple. The soft swell of her chest mound made my mouth water for more than her French toast.

As I watched my mother, my cock tingled, and the head swelled, pushing the fabric of my boxer briefs and basketball shorts outward and upward. After teasing me, how did my mother think that I wasn't going to run off to the one girl who had already guaranteed me some pussy? How could Mom hope to keep me at home when what I really wanted was--

The shock of an electric spark zapping my brain put a stop to my thoughts, and when they came back, a new question had entered my mind. How far was my mother willing to go to keep me from being sexual with Jenna for the next four years?

Did I want to know?

My mind stuttered, like an old film reel that had lost its tracking, and everything blurred. I didn't know if I wanted to know, but my dick, the nasty mother fucker, who wanted to spread open the little lips between my girlfriend's thighs, had no problem growing thick and hard and hell-bent on finding out.

I needed to get out of the kitchen, but I had a hard-on, so I sat there, eating with a slow, deliberate gait as I willed my fucking chubby friend down to half-mast. It wasn't easy since I was sneaking glances at my mother's tit while wishing her robe would move a hair more to the left. I wanted to see the shade of her areola and maybe the size of her nub.

The size of her nub--her fucking nipple!

I had been aware of her nipple--nipples--since the start of this, but it was her flesh that had stolen the attention of my eyes and other, darker thoughts had also kept my mind occupied, but I had been aware of my mother's nipples. What had started as smooth silk against the jutting swell of her breasts had developed small rises in their surface--rises that had pushed the fabric outward in a pair of points. Growing and growing, they thickened and hardened, my imagination witnessing the tight swirling and contracting of her flesh, seeming to swell while stretching outward as the little cracks in her nipple flesh constricted.

Shit--my balls hurt.

As soon as the last bite of French toast entered my mouth, I pushed my chair back and turned in my father's direction. He still had his newspaper raised. Who the fuck reads an entire newspaper? I'm glad he did because the left side of the paper kept his eyes away from my tented shorts. I should have slid from my chair in a half-crouch and slunk away with my back turned to my mother before standing, but I didn't do that. I don't know why, but instead, I pushed my chair back, and as I turned to my right, I stood, leaving no doubt about the effect my mother had on me. Even if she were looking forward, her peripherals wouldn't have failed to notice the hard-on that she had raised.

I should have rushed upstairs to jerk off, but instead, I jumped onto the couch facing the TV, grabbed the remote, and looked for something to watch. I flipped through the channels, not paying attention, as I looked at the clock and waited for my father to leave the house. By the time he had left, my hard-on had gone down, but my leg had started to fidget.

Dad left just before eight in the morning, and I waited in the living room, unaware of what I expected or what Mom had planned. Jenna was always available after her half-day summer classes, and a little bit of teasing wasn't going to keep me away from her. But would a whole lot keep me away from her? No. Mom's teasing wouldn't keep me away from Jenna, that's for damn sure, so the question came to me again: How far was my mother willing to go to keep me away from Jenna for the next four years?

Get your shit together, I thought. Did Mom really want to do this? Had I driven her insane? No way, she was a rational woman--educated, composed, experienced, and... Mom walked into the living, just beyond my couch, stopping in front of me, but off to the side.

"Hey," I said, staring at her back and butt--mostly her butt--which her robe rested upon, with the cloth covering her center groove and dipping between her cheeks.

"Hey," Mom said, not turning around. "I'm going to work for a little bit, but then I'm coming downstairs to do some housework."

"Okay," I said.

"It's going to be hot today." A tremor underscored Mom's voice. "Don't go anywhere."

"Jenna doesn't get out of school until noon," I said. "And her dad insists on picking her up now instead of me."

"Good," Mom said. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to clean, okay."

"Okay."

Mom turned, and when she did, her robe lay open from her neck to below her breasts, her inside swells and cleavage visible. Her perky handfuls left some open space between her breasts that made my mouth water and tongue dance. Mom paused for a moment, standing still long enough not to make things obvious before she left the living room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Fuck me, but this was unexpected and strange, and yet it filled me with a kind of nervous yet excited energy that I needed to release. I waited until I was sure that Mom was in her room before I raced upstairs to my room to relieve myself of this adrenaline-like burden with hard pumps of my cock.

Porno, stories, camgirls--I didn't spend money on them--and other kinds of options presented themselves to me. I was ready to take them, but instead, I found myself searching Reddit for real-life stories about moms coming onto their sons, or vice versa. I was sure that every one of them was bullshit, but even if just one were true, then maybe I'd have an idea of how to handle this new side of Mom.

I mostly skimmed links to sex stories (many by Mr. Here/MrHereWriting) and actual website entries. Each one that captured my attention said the same thing: Be assertive. Don't let your golden opportunity go to waste. If your mother was coming onto you, then go after her. Don't let your mother run away from you, and don't let the guilt that was bound to set in once she offered herself to you take hold of her soul. Take hold of her soul! That was a bit dramatic--a little over the top--but it also made sense.

Yet, why would I want to test this out?

My cock knew why, but what did a dickhead know?

My fingers danced on my keyboard, not clicking any of the keys, just dancing over them with enough pressure to make the plastic caps rattle and shake. I should have got busy jerking off, but that's when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

"Yeah," I called out as I minimized my porn windows, and my heart jumped to a jogging pace.

"I'm going to go downstairs to clean now," Mom said, speaking through my door. "Just to let you know."

"Okay."

How often had I watched my mother clean? How often did she? Up until today, I had never noticed when Mom cleaned the house. I spent most of my time in my room, sleeping until eleven in the morning because this was my summer to relax.

I looked at my clock.

It was ten in the morning.

Holy shit, I had spent about two hours reading incest threads involving moms showing themselves off to their sons. Much of it sounded like bullshit, and I had decided that all of it was bullshit, but still, some of it had sounded like it could be true.

Be assertive.

Maybe I didn't know how far I was willing to push this, let alone Mom, but a soft voice in my head sang to me with words spun from honey and silk, crooning, Just have one more look at your mother. Why not? She's a head-turner.

"Why not," I said to my empty room, and I stood from my desk, having to place my palms on the arms of my chair to push myself up. My body weighed a ton, but up it went, and on legs heavier than I could remember them weighing, I walked downstairs as the tempo of my heart shifted into a higher gear, and then another.

Mom was in the living room, wearing an outfit that I'd never seen her in. Her clothes looked new, and they could have been. She could have bought them yesterday. It's not like we spent twenty-four hours a day together. She had gathered her long, flaxen hair into a bun, one of those where the hair swirls about itself with neither a beginning nor an ending. She had donned a gray cotton house shirt that hugged her body and molded to her breasts, emphasizing their softness and shape while detailing her small waist and long, graceful arms. While the shirt had caught my attention, it was her shorts that had made my heart shift into a higher gear yet again.

These were dance shorts, and I knew my mother had danced once upon a time, mainly from grade school through college, and then just for fun. They were black and small and high-tied along her sides so that they angled downward from her hips to her crotch and her ass. They had loose leg holes, and because of their smallness, I could see the hint of my mother's ass cheeks, their very bottoms. Just a line of them, but that was enough to get my pecker going.

Wow.

From that line, her long legs, with a hint of muscle curving her thighs and hamstrings, descended into her calves and down into her tennis shoes, where I could see the white rims of her ankle socks. Her legs looked longer than normal--and they were already long--but that was because her shorts rode upward toward her hips. Fuck me, but my mother's swan-like body looked yummy.

How far was I willing to push this?

I took a deep breath and said, "Hey," before I left the stairway and walked into the living room.

"Hey," Mom said, smiling at me from where she stood by the living room windows, opening up the heavier curtains, but leaving the transparent curtains closed. "I'm going to clean now, but you can just relax and watch TV. I won't bother you."

"Sure," I said, my cheeks reddening the moment I saw a light shade of pink blossom across my mother's face. It was like watching the sunrise, and I had to control the sound of my next breath as I filled my lungs with air. "I'll just sit."

"Okay," Mom said and turned away from me to run one of those handheld, static dusters over the shelf on the left side of the TV.

I crawled over the back of the couch, grabbed the remote that lay on the center cushion, and turned the TV on, flipping through channels right away. Mom kept her back to me. I took in the smoothness of her legs and the cusps of her cheek bottoms, where they joined the backs of her thighs. Could I see her cheeks, or was I just imagining it? When Mom pushed herself up to her toes, her shorts lifted just enough to give me that small glimpse of ass flesh my cock was tingling to see.

I say my cock because my cock stiffened when I was positive that Mom was giving me glimpses of her cheeks. I moved on the couch, pushing myself into the corner between the armrest and the backrest, lifting my feet onto the cushions, and pulling my knees up to hide my bulging shorts.

Let her see.

I shook my head, and yet I had let her see me in the kitchen, but I had done that without much thought. Still, that let her see whisper gave me goosebumps, and Reddit had said to be aggressive.

Stop your fucking thinking, I thought.

Mom dusted the top shelves next to the TV and then the middle, then she backed up and started dusting the shelves and picture frames that were level with her thighs. She was dusting, but not really. Her arm moved, and so did her wrist and the duster, but the fibrous, Q-tip-like end only glided over the picture frames and various pieces of art that Mom had collected during her lifetime.

My heart sped up as she started to bend over--at the waist. Her legs stayed straight and parted, forming a triangle between her thighs that pointed straight to her muff. Mom had backed away from the shelves so far that she could now get her head below her waist while keeping her legs straight. What balance! Mom did enjoy her yoga. Her legs tightened, their firmness creating barely-there curves, but what made my heart speed up the most was action at the apex of Mom's thighs.

Her small, black cotton shorts had pulled tight between her inner thighs, forming a thick but thin thong while the back leg holes had ridden upward, baring about a quarter of her firm butt. I could see this new arrangement of her shorts, but she had to have felt it, and even though I knew what she was doing, chills of adrenaline rolled through my shoulders and down my arms. I shivered, feeling the light prickling of excitement bouncing across my skin like water sizzling over a hot surface.

What was Mom thinking?

Was this turning her on too, or was this something that she was only doing out of necessity? How the fuck could a mother desire her son, no matter what the scumbags on Reddit claimed? (Was I one of those scumbags now?) Did she have any idea what her desperate attempt to keep me out of Jenna's pussy was doing to my mind? My thoughts? My desires? My cock?

Fucking hell, but there was no way my mother had thought this through.

No fucking way.

Be aggressive.

The patch of cloth between her legs pulled inward as she widened her stance, baring her inner thighs to her outer labia and whatever kind of panties she was wearing beneath her shorts. A thong? She had to have been wearing a thong. I couldn't see her labia, but my sight caught the edges of her tender, outer folds.

Just the fucking edges!

Just give me half an inch more, I begged her shorts, but then she straightened her back, stepped to the side, and dusted around the TV. I found solace in her small butt, which wasn't flat, and not too round. Mom had a good butt. A wholesome butt that made my ball sack tingle. A mom's butt that made my knob throb--a throb from a mom who could surprise a son and his friends with her sexiness.

How long before Jenna returned home from school?

Too long.

I went back to watching Mom while doing my best to shut down my mind.

Mom finished with the TV, turning sideways to me as she walked to the next set of shelves, and my vision zoomed in on her breasts as they pushed against her gray cotton shirt. The under swells had a softness to them, while the upper portions sloped like a ski jump, ending with her thick nipples that had hardened to points half an inch long.

Jesus, they're just cutting right through her shirt, I thought.

My balls pulsed and through my cock shot a bead of precum that widened my shaft. My hips rolled on their own and out spat my wad of cream, wetting my boxer briefs enough that I could feel the wet stickiness against my crown.

Mom's head twitched as though she wanted to turn to look at me, but she never turned her head that far. Instead, she passed the TV and went to work on the shelves, standing straight and bending over, squatting, and pushing her butt outward. Sometimes she stood with her legs closed, and sometimes she opened them. She stretched upward, baring the bottom curves of her butt, and once she reached back with her left hand to scratch the top of her hamstring. Her elegant fingers pulled her shorts upward, exposing a solid quarter of her cheek, tanned to match the rest of her body, without a divot or blemish marring her smooth, angelic skin.

Another wad of cum left my balls, and I closed my thighs, pressing my knees together as a rolling cloud of sensitivity bundled itself around my knobs and tickled the tip of my cock. Fuck me, but I was going to come hard after this.

After dusting, Mom grabbed the vacuum and gave the carpet in the living room a good twice over, maybe thrice, as she ran the machine over the same spot in back-and-forth motions that made her little-ish titties bounce. She didn't look at me as she cleaned, even as she faced me most of the time. I watched, never once looking at the TV as her beaded nipples drew my gaze with the strength of a tractor beam.

Eventually, Mom's cleaning had to come to an end, and when it did, she looked up at me, smiling, then said, "One room a day. I hope I wasn't in your way."

I shook my head, and my mother never dropped her eyes below my face. Not that I was flaunting my hard-on, but with my knees up and a pillow now in my lap, she had to have known what was going on below my waist.

"Well, I need to get back to work," Mom said. "But, I'll see you here later, okay?"

I nodded my head, but I was already thinking of Jenna's juicy pussy in my hands. Mom went upstairs, and I went to my room, noticing the time. I had about an hour before Jenna would be home, so I spent the next forty-five minutes punishing my cock for its dirty thoughts about my mother. Twice I nutted, and twice it was to the kind of porn that I had never watched before. I had watched my share of daddy-daughter scenes and brother-sister scenes, but I was neither a father nor a brother, so the ickiness of those scenes had never entered my mind during those episodes of sensual fulfillment.

As noon approached, I jumped in the shower, cleaned the sweat from my body, freshened up, and as I exited the bathroom, my eyes widened at the sight of my mother in the hallway. I couldn't tell if she had been waiting for me or if she had been on the way to my room, but there she was, paused in mid-step. And there I was, with a towel around my waist with the rest of my upper body bare: shoulders, chest, arms, and abs. Mom's eyes looked down, then sprung back up to meet mine. The green in her irises had an inner glow that I had never noticed before.

"I'm going to go get some sun," Mom said. "Would you like to join me?"

She smiled.

Yes.

But what I said was, "I'm going to go see Jenna."

Mom's smile straightened, and she gave me one of those looks before she said, "I bought a new bikini that I could use an opinion on." She smiled again. "Give me ten minutes of your time."

A whisper of breath left my lungs, whistling through my lips as a bead of water dripped from a hair hanging over my forehead and fell downward through my vision. I could almost hear that tear-shaped bead of H2O burst apart as it landed on the carpet below me.

"Okay," I said.

Mom's smile widened, and she hopped forward so fast that I couldn't react before she pushed up to her tiptoes and pecked me on my cheek.

"Thanks," Mom said. "I'll see you down there soon. Wear your suit."

She had bought a new bikini as though she hadn't owned bikinis that were small enough as it was. Fuck me, but I decided that Jenna could wait a few minutes, but only a few.

Pushing it Poolside

We had a big backyard, square, with landscaping and plenty of green, some trees, and a pool house next to a Roman-shaped pool and an elevated spa off to the side. White tile surrounded the pool, the edges, and the granite rock forced a backdrop around half of the pool with an outcropping of rocks where a decorative waterfall added a final touch of paradise.

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I stepped through the dining room's swinging glass doors and into the sun, the rays of light warming my skin on contact. No shirt covered my upper body, but a white towel hung over my left shoulder, and a pair of colorful boardshorts circled my waist. I had chosen the shorts that Jenna had bought me. They hung low enough on my hips that if I hadn't trimmed my pubic hairs, more than a few curls would have poked out over the waistband. Mom didn't like them--not when Jenna was around, and Jenna's fingers had a tendency to glide across my skin, but maybe that would change now that we were alone. If Mom could show off, then why couldn't I? (It had taken some effort to pull those shorts from their drawer and slide them up my legs.)

Next to the pool, opposite the granite wall, there was a row of white-cushioned lounge chairs and small glass tables. That's where I found Mom. She lay on her back, with a white tennis visor on her head and sunglasses over her eyes. Her skin didn't shine with lotion, and my heartbeat did a double-thump as soon as I saw that. She wore a small, red bikini top over her breasts, the kind made of strings that wrapped around her back and hooked over her shoulders, around her neck. The cups were half-moons that cut an angle across her breasts, covering her nipples but leaving the inner swells and the sides of her tits exposed.

I wanted to whistle. I had never seen my mother wear a top that exposed so much of her tit-flesh, and yet, I had to hide a sigh. I don't know why I had thought that Mom would have worn less, but I had hoped. Did she think a bikini would keep me from running off to Jenna after her teasing today? And as if she wanted me to run off to Jenna, around her waist, she was wearing a mid-thigh length, white, semi-transparent wraparound skirt. A skirt? Damn it!

"It took you long enough to get down here," Mom said. "I was about to go inside after you."

"Ah, well," I said and shrugged. "I was just picking out my suit."

"I see," Mom said. Behind her glasses, I couldn't tell where her eyes had fallen on my body.

I walked over to her and dropped my towel on the chair next to hers. I was about to sit down when she said, "How about a quick dip?"

"Sure," I said as the hairs on my body reached skyward.

Mom removed her visor and stood, her butt toward me, and through the transparent mesh of her skirt, I caught glimpses of her cheeks and thighs. Before I could decipher whether she was wearing a G-string or a thong, she unwrapped her skirt, revealing a thick red thong running through the crack of her small, golden, and pear-shaped ass.

God damn it, but my father was a lucky man.

"No tan lines," I whispered aloud as though my mother wasn't four feet from me.

"No," Mom laughed. "No tan lines." She turned around. "So, do you like my new bikini?"

Oh, dear lord, yes--yes, I did.

The thong riding my mother's crack swept outward at her lower back, just above her cheeks, leaving them bare. The strings were maybe a quarter-inch thick, biting into her skin a tad, giving her slenderness a faint bulge above and below her waistline. In front, they swept down the cut of her hips to the V of her crotch, where they connected to a red, triangular patch of cloth that didn't quite cover my mother's vanilla pie. A quarter-inch of labia lay exposed to the elements. I could see the impressions of what had to be a fluffy landing strip pushing against the front of her nylon panties--panties that rode so low on her mound that I could see several wispy, flaxen hairs poking above the nylon.

My cock thickened, the head expanding at a slow rate--slow enough that the stretching of my glans exploded through my nerve endings.

"Mark?" Mom asked.

I raised my eyes, devouring her long body and her apple-sized breasts, whose just-over-a-handful size looked smaller than they were due to her height. Her nipples stood out straight and hard, stretching the nylon fibers forward and sideways, threatening to rip the threads apart. When I reached my mother's face, I saw swirls of pink in her cheeks, but her sunglasses hid her eyes. An almost-smile ghosted the corners of her full lips.

"My bikini?" Mom asked.

"It's breathtaking," I whispered.

"Thanks." Mom's smile widened. "I'm glad you like it. I've bought more, too, for the rest of the summer." She breathed in, shivering, and then out, the sound trembling in the air. "And if things go well, maybe you can help me pick out more?"

I nodded my head.

Mom lifted her left hand to her glasses, took the temple piece between her thumb and forefinger, and slid them from her face. There was a smile in her green eyes and something else that I could only call a victory. She tossed her glasses on her lounge chair and turned away, walking toward the pool with her butt cheeks rolling and her long legs slipping one in front of the other with each step. As I drooled over her ass, my eyes caught the heart-shaped gap at the top of her thighs and the tender bulge of her soft pussy meat as it created a hanging crescent in the gusset of her panties.

Oh my god! My cock sprang up so fast, and my balls tightened so hard that I had to clench my teeth to bite back my groan. Mom reached the edge of the pool and dove forward, as graceful as the swan she was. As her steepled hands parted the water, I raced forward and dove in as well. The water coating my body was a crystalline blanket of freshness. I made sure to rise above the water at a depth that kept my waistline and erection hidden beneath the swaying water's surface.

Let Mom see, my cock yelled at me. Let her fucking see what she does to us!

Maybe later, I mumbled to my perked-up soldier.

Mom came out of the water after I did, having swum to the opposite edge of the pool. Her head erupted through the water's surface, her hair whipping up and back and flinging globs of liquid through the air. She turned around, running her hand over her face as the water painted her nylon bra to her tits and more ran down her stomach and hips and back into the pool.

"That feels good," Mom said. "Race you to the end!"

Mom dove to her left, elongating her body as she started a sidestroke. I watched her for a moment, my eyes freezing to the gap between her thighs and the tight roll of nylon hammocking her muff. She had so much pussy meat for such a slender woman--so it looked in the water. My cock jerked, the head trying to rip through my shorts, creating a jolt of pleasure that ran along my shaft. Moaning, I followed my mother's body through the pool, wishing that I had worn a pair of goggles so that I could better appreciate the light glinting off my mother's body through the thickness of the oscillating water.

She touched the back wall and broke through the surface. I followed. She shook her head, made a wuh sound, and swam away from me. Once again, I watched her slip through the water, my eyes finding her thong as it cupped her crack, and then her gusset as it cradled her wet pussy. Jesus Christ, but Mom had to know that I wasn't going to just beat off after this when I had Jenna offering her juicy clam to me.

I followed Mom back to the shallow end of the pool, my dick swinging in my shorts. Every kick of my feet and twist of my body sent a buzz through my cock. My dick wanted pussy. My mind wanted pussy. Fuck, my soul wanted pussy, and it wanted it right then.

"I think it's time for some sun," Mom said, standing in the shallow end with the water lapping around her thighs. I didn't hide my gaze this time, looking down her dripping wet body and focusing on the triangle of cloth that left the softness of her outer labia uncovered. "Don't you?"

"In a second," I said, hidden up to my waist beneath the water's surface. "I just"--my heart thumped, creating a hollow boom within my chest that I was aware of but too excited to feel--"want to watch you get out of the pool."

Mom's eyes widened, and she seemed a little taken aback, but then she smiled with a kind of gotcha quality to her lips. She turned around and walked toward the steps, her ass and thigh gap holding my cock's attention. I just wanted to be between her thighs.

Eighteen-year-olds weren't meant to be virgins, not when women--adult, fucking women--who shined like my mother were teasing them.

Mom walked around the front of the pool, her body dripping and her hair plastered to her body, its light, bright color at odds with her golden skin. I loved it. The sides of her almost-little tits jiggled, bouncing just enough to make my blood pump. Her body was the picture of classically toned slenderness not influenced by today's Instagram-fit girls or the pre-woke, skinny-girl chic, runway models, and it made every nerve ending through my flesh buzz with adrenaline.

Mom grabbed her towel, drying herself off with long sweeps of the terry cloth. She dried her arms and legs with pushing motions, turning her body so that whatever side she was drying was turned away from me, giving my eyes the freedom to roam over her skin without shame. Mom finished, put on her sunglasses and visor, threading her hair through its headband, and she sat down on her lounge chair. She lay down as the sun beat down on her. She lay with her legs slightly spread and her bikini panties cupping the tender folds between her legs. I could see the faintest impression of them, and I oh-so-badly wanted to touch them.

I walked to the edge of the pool--staring. After a minute of this, when Mom spread her legs further apart, I pressed my cock against the side of the pool, nearly coming. I wasn't about to hump the wall, but I wanted to. Instead, I bent my knees and dropped beneath the water, placing my hands on the lege and pushing myself underwater. I held my breath until a fire burned within my lungs and my throat convulsed--my heart speeding up for another reason. I did this until my erection softened enough not to hurt when I walked, and then I sprang out of the pool, no longer thinking about what I was doing as I walked to my lounge chair.

My towel found its way into my hands, and I dried myself off, taking my time as I stared down at my mother. Was she looking up at me through her sunglasses? She had the hint of a smile on her lips, and her breathing was far from mellow. Her slim stomach rolled downward and up, her breasts rising and falling with them, her nipples reaching heavenward with unashamed stiffness. Could she feel my eyes on her--even if she wasn't looking at me?

"Pass me my tanning oil," Mom whispered. "I think I could use just a bit more color, don't you?"

"Sure," I said, bending over and picking up the bottle of oil.

Mom didn't need more color. She had perfect skin, from its flawless complexion to the sun-cooked gold of her tan, but who was I to argue?

"Mom," I said, my voice shaking, "I can put it on for you."

Mom's smile straightened, and I saw her swallow as time slowed. The movement of her throat seemed exaggerated, and it cascaded down her breast, her stomach lowering and rising as well.

"That's okay," Mom said. "I can do it. Why don't you sit down and enjoy yourself."

I licked my lips and said, "I think I'm going to go see Jenna," in a quiet, almost guilty tone.

Time stopped.

I heard the wind and the static-like rustle of leaves blowing in the breeze. The sun moved, its rays growing hotter as it curved through the air, and then a chill hit me, and I shivered despite the heat.

"Okay," Mom whispered.

Okay, what?

"Okay, what?" I asked in a whisper of breath.

"Okay, you can put the oil on me," Mom said in a tone that matched mine. "My back first."

My shorts moved outward as my cock grew, and Mom's chin tilted down, her eyes staring a straight line toward my growing bulge. She froze for a moment, her breathing heavy, and then she rolled to her right, away from my cock, and turned onto her stomach. She turned her head away from me, crossing her arms beneath her cheek, and she laid her head across her small forearms.

I swallowed as my heart punched the underside of my chest hard enough to make my throat hurt. The world brightened, and I sat on the edge of Mom's chair as my vision swooned, moving left-to-right and left again, like a pendulum. I shivered again, and then I took a deep breath that sounded extra loud to my ears. I released it, then took another, and released that in a tunnel of wind through my lips.

"Are you okay?" Mom asked.

"Yeah," I said as my prick hardened fully. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Mom whispered.

The cap to the oil was one of those push-down on one side and spring-up on the other kind, and I depressed it with my thumb and then held the bottle over my mother's back. My eyes stared at the strings of her bikini bra, and I asked, "No tan lines, right Mom?" in a faraway voice.

Mom took a deep breath.

"Mom," I said with enough urgency in my voice to make my suggestion sound like a demand.

"Untie my bra for me," Mom said, "and drop the strings to the sides." The sides, where I could already see the bottom flesh of her breasts, bulging outward as her upper body pushed their roundness into her cushioned chair.

I reached down with my hand, fingers extended, the tips trembling, and I plucked one of the strings of her bra's bow on the first try. I pulled, watching as the string slid through the knot, and the bow shrank and shrank, snapping free and leaving a simple crossover knot. Pulling the string to the side and giving it a shake to loosen it from its partner, I tossed it to the side, and then I grabbed the other string, dropping it to Mom's left side, undressing her back. As the strings landed on the cushions, the cups of Mom's bra fell away, baring the side of her tits to my eyes. My cock jumped, and I pulled my hips back, trying to find room within my shorts for my aching erection.

There was no room.

Tilting the bottle of oil, I let a stream of the thick liquid spill from the cap's nozzle. The sunlight caught its burnished gold color, making it sparkle--reminding me of that album cover in my grandmother's collection where honey drops from the comb. The end bulb struck the center of Mom's back. Her spine moved as she reacted to the oil's touch, and I watched as a pool formed over her skin, then slipped to the side in thin rivulets of liquid sex.

Sex.

I placed the bottle to the side, freeing my hands, and extended my fingers, bringing the tips down to my mother's back. They shook until they touched her skin and moved upward, my digits spreading as far apart as they could as I stroked my mother's skin. My adrenaline spiked, starting in my heart and radiating outward, finding the pathways through my shoulders and arms and down into my hands, where the energy passed through me and into my mother.

"Mm," Mom moaned, but it sounded like a low, muffled groan that she had tried to hold back. Her mouth never opened, and the sound was low and faint, but it was there. My heart raced, and I pushed harder into her skin, trying to get her to moan again. She didn't, but her lips twitched as I increased the pressure across her smooth skin.

I reached Mom's neck, pushing my fingers into the slope running down to her shoulders. My mother had a firm body, but not too firm, her muscles lying beneath a single layer of feminine softness, giving her body all the hints of having curves while still appearing thin. She had a showgirl's body, a runner's body, a dancer's--the kind of body that deserved admiration, coupled with a beauty that could turn a strong man weak or a hard man soft.

All this from just touching her, I thought.

I had never touched my mother before. Not like this. A hug, a kiss on the cheek, a tug on her arm or hand, but I had never stroked her in such a familiar way. There was no other way to rub oil on a person, whether they were a friend, a girlfriend, your mother, or a client at a spa. This was as intimate as two people could physically become, outside of sex.

Sex.

I ran my hands down my mother's shoulders and over her arms, straightening each of her arms one at a time and having to tug the first one loose before she gave it up. I ran my hand down her arm, over her small bicep and forearm, my long fingers circling her limb completely. I reached her fingers, and I covered them with oil as well, taking time to stroke each one of her digits before making my way back to her shoulders, where I rowed my thumbs over her skin, warmed by the sun--and, I hoped, by me.

The more I touched my mother, the harder she breathed and the calmer I grew. I stayed hard, and my excitement rushed through me, pushing through my veins in thick pulses of light, but I remained calm.

What was my mother feeling?

I lowered my hands down her back with my thumbs meeting along her spine. Her skin moved before my fingertips as I fanned them outward, turning them sideways so that they faced my mother's ribs and the sides of her breasts. Oil glistened in the light, and the velvet texture of her flesh sent ripples of desire through my arms. My cock swelled, and out poured a hefty glob of precum that would have given me a thick droplet of dewy goo to add to the oil covering her back.

If only I could rub my precum on her...

If only I could.

What a terrible, horrible, and thrilling thought. And like that, I had begun to free myself of every reservation that I had concerning how far I was willing to push my mother in her game of tease with me.

Freeing myself--that final moment that pushed me across the line that Mom had drawn--didn't mean that I was without fear or anxiety. It took an effort to push my hands outward, the tips pointing left and right, and then curling over Mom's slick back toward the outer bulges of her breasts. Mom tensed as my fingers slid down her ribs, straight down toward the cushion, not backward toward her hips. Straight down, to her titties, almost reaching them, almost there, almost touching their softness until--

"Mark," Mom said in a whispered rush, "your hands are slipping in the oil."

They aren't slipping, Mom.

I swallowed to regain my composure. My cock ached and twitched, and after a pause, I moved my hands down her ribs to her sides. Touching her like this made her seem small. Her great Motherhood shrunken down to a normal woman, a sexy woman, who was letting me touch her in ways that she never had before. My cock jerked again, spitting up more precum, and I released a shaky breath as I moved my hands over her sides to the small of her back.

My thumbs pressed into my mother's spin, then rowed up and around, and I opened and closed my fingertips. This was no casual massage that I was giving my mother. I caressed her, opening my fingers wide and gliding my palms over her skin, watching as her flesh moved before my fingertips in a wave of visual stimulation.

What was my mother feeling?

Her breathing had deepened. She lay still, mostly, with her lips tight and her eyes unreadable behind her sunglasses. I moved my hands lower, then higher, then lower, nearing the quarter-inch-thick waistband of her thong bikini. Closer and closer and closer...

"Mark," Mom snapped when my oil-slick hands moved over her thong's waistband and right on her ass.

"I have to get all of you," I said, my voice heavy and low, the sound of my breathing exciting me in its perversion.

Did it excite my mother?

Her breathing had deepened.

"Jenna," I said as I pressed my palms into my mother's small, soft ass. Soft on the outside, firm on the inside, yet not as firm as a teenager's ass. That contrast between young tightness and mature firmness sent a sensual heat through my body that made the world spin. "Jenna lets me do this whenever I want."

Mom hissed.

I curled my fingers down her butt, then opened them, my thumbs riding the edges of her shallow crack and grazing the line of the thong running between her cheeks. I didn't try to go under her thong, but I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to, and my cock, dripping precum, was more than enough proof of my desire for my mother.

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"Hurry up," Mom whispered, her voice catching as I pressed the tips of my thumbs against the bottom of her ass cheeks. I followed the line of her hamstrings from the outside in, all the way to the inward curve down into the softness of her maternal muff. "Do my legs. Now."

I stopped with my thumbs outside of her pussy. They were so damn near the nylon of her panties that my fingers trembled from the heat between her legs. As I pulled them away, I pressed my thumbs harder into her tender flesh and pulled outward, spreading her open between her legs like the velvet curtains of a Broadway stage. Mom's pussy pulled outward, her outer lips slipping past the protection of her thong's covering and giving me a glimpse of her softer, fuller crescents.

"Mm," Mom moaned, the sound strained as she bit back the quiet, almost nonexistent sound.

I stopped my thumbs' movement, holding my mother's pussy open from the outside pressure on her inner thighs. Staring at the center of her cunny beneath her panties, I watched as her crimson nylon stuck to her lips, outlining the long slit beneath their fabric. I saw her folds, outer and inner, and the opening between them, where the red of her panties had darkened, growing wetter and--

Holy fuck, my mother was wet with pussy juice.

"I need to go back to work," Mom said, her words coming in a rush that was almost a pant. She pulled away from me, holding her right hand over her breasts as she stood, facing away from me. "I expect you to stay at home while I work."

Her voice had trembled as she spoke, though it carried it a hard edge, the edge that I was used to hearing whenever I managed to get myself into trouble.

"Okay," I said.

Mom walked away, leaving me with my hard-on, and when I was sure she was in her office--with windows that faced the backyard--I took out my cock and jerked off hard and fast in full view of her windows. I sprayed my cum onto my stomach before wiping it off with my towel. Satisfied, I jumped back into the pool to cool down.

Had Mom watched me?

I hoped so.

An Agreement

I didn't see my mother again until after Dad had arrived home. She had changed from her bikini into a pleated white tennis skirt that barely reached the middle of her thighs. A tight, dark blue polo shirt with white trim and short-short sleeves covered her upper body. We didn't talk, and Mom made dinner, and we ate, her tits pushing against her top like two perky orbs outlined by the faintest impressions of a bra. It must have been a thin bra, maybe lace or something transparent, I didn't know, but my mind spent most of its time thinking about what kind of bra she could be wearing.

Jenna had some transparent bras that she liked to wear for me.

Dad said nothing about Mom's outfit. He was too busy mumbling, "My sleepless nights are getting worse. Can you believe that? They just won't go away anymore."

My dad, as far as I knew, had bouts of acute insomnia, typically lasting for several weeks, then they'd dissipate for several weeks, then they'd come back in an endless cycle of hell for him. When he mentioned this, I saw my mother's face tighten, but my heartbeat sped up. Had the same thoughts gone through our heads at the same time? I didn't know, but I'd like to think that they did. Despite her reaction, I was eager for my father to start taking his pills again.

Even though Mom was wearing a short tennis skirt that showed off her slender legs down to her little, bare feet with their perfect toes and elegant arches, it wasn't like this morning and afternoon. Dad was here, so when Mom noticed me looking for a little too long or a little too hard, she narrowed her eyes at me and sent a firm headshake--with only the slightest hints of movement--my way.

Not long after dinner, I went upstairs, saying, "I need to give Jenna a call before she thinks I'm ignoring her."

Mom, who had been reading a book on the couch while Dad watched TV, looked up at me as I headed upstairs and called out, "Remember our deal."

Our unspoken deal, I thought just as my father said, "Yeah, remember it. I don't want to have to explain to my mother why her grandson had to drop out of high school to take care of his bastard."

"Jesus, Dad," I said as my dad laughed, and I continued upstairs.

I talked to Jenna, but I was distracted. She could tell. I knew that she could, but I couldn't tell her why. My thoughts kept drifting back to my mother and the promise I had made her. Did I really make her a promise? Do unspoken promises count? I didn't think--so my cock said to me--but Jenna would be there for me in a week, while Mom might end her desperation tactic if she thought I wasn't keeping my word.

"Come on," Jenna was saying, "tell me how hard your cock is for me."

"I can't," I said, licking my lips and continuing the lie I had told her at the start of our conversation. "Mom keeps walking into my room."

"Fuck it," Jenna growled, "let her hear how hard I make your cock. I'll let my dad hear if you let your mom hear." She made a tongue-clicking sound. "Every time that my dad thinks that I'm being naughty with you, he gives me this look, and I just want to say, 'Mark makes my pussy wet, Daddy, deal with it."

"Daddy," I said, laughing.

"Well, Dad's my father," Jenna said, "but you're my Daddy."

"Oh," I moan-groaned. "That's so fucking hot."

"I know, right?" Jenna giggled. "The dirtier this gets, the jucier my pussy gets for your big, adult dick. Maybe my dad's just jealous of you getting my ass instead of..."

I groaned again as she trailed off, her voice slick, sly, and dangerously suggestive. My cock grew and grew. Maybe it was for the best if I put an end to Mom's teasing and went straight to Jenna. Why should we torture ourselves by waiting? We could fuck, tell her dad, and call his bluff. It had to be a bluff. Jenna's mom loved me!

"I've got to go, you nasty girl," I whispered. "I can hear my mom outside of my door. I think she's pacing. I'll send you a picture later, okay?"

"Okay," Jenna sighed. "Our parents suck."

"Yes, they do," I whispered, hoping it was true in my mother's case.

"Love you," Jenna said, "and don't forget that dick pick you owe me. I want to see cum and lots of it."

"I promise," I whispered as her bratty voice sent a tingle through my glans. "Love you too."

Would she be mad when I didn't send her a picture?

Probably, but I'd think of something.

I left my phone on my bed as I headed downstairs. I had talked to Jenna for an hour; what would Mom make of that? Was she antsy? Was she pissed? Should I pretend that something happened, even when it hadn't? There was danger in that; wasn't there, but how much?

Fuck, there were too many variables to digest, so I tried to slow down my thoughts as I descended from the top of the stairs into the TV-lit foyer and living room. Mom, sitting on the back couch with her back against the armrest, turned her head to the left and gave me a long look. I smiled, and she watched me as I walked around the couch and sat opposite her. She had her knees up and together, along with her calves and feet, creating a wall that hid her panties from my eyes.

I leaned back against the couch's arm, bringing my feet onto the couch. Mom looked at me, watching as the soft light flashed across my body. Dad yawned.

"Did you already take your pill?" I asked my dad.

"Yeah," he yawned again. "I haven't had a good sleep in days."

I hadn't noticed--what an asshole I was.

"Gonna go upstairs?" I asked.

"You want the TV?"

"No." I shook my head, though he was lying on his back with his head on a pillow, staring at the TV. "Just making conversation."

"Make it when the show's over," he said. "If I last that long."

I nodded and turned back to Mom. She was still looking at me, and even though the living was dark, and I wouldn't have been able to see much had she spread her legs for me, I nodded at her knees anyway. Mom tilted her head, and I lifted my hands, placed my palms together, then spread my fingers open by tilting them away from each other. Mom widened her eyes, and then she looked toward the TV. I sighed without making a sound, extending my right foot and nudging her left toes. Mom brought her feet back, and when they ran out of the room, she turned on her cushion and lowered her feet to the floor.

Damn it!

Was it because of Dad?

It had to be.

Or maybe she needed reassurance that I hadn't done anything with Jenna--over the phone. How was I going to do that? Fuck it, I was going to press my luck, and I could assure Mom later that her son had followed her rules, mostly. Was talking dirty to my willing eighteen-year-old girlfriend going to get her pregnant? No!

I sighed again, a little louder this time. Mom didn't look at me, and neither did Dad. I lowered my back down the armrest to my shoulders, and I stretched out my legs, pulling short of touching Mom with my feet. Her skirt lay a tiny bit above the middle of her lap, both atop and along the sides, while the back lay bunched against the back of the couch. The pleats were perfect and rectangular, layered, her long legs illuminated by the bluish-silver of the TV light.

Like moonlight.

When was Mom going to pull her skirt up? She wasn't sitting on it, so it wasn't like her movement would disturb Dad. Not that he'd notice by the way he was lying.

Time ticked by, the show went on, and Dad yawned.

Any day now, I thought, throwing my silent words at my mother.

Was she mad at me for touching her today? I had pushed it. Or, if not mad, was she having second thoughts? This game had barely started, so there was only one way to find out. I extended my right foot, the one closest to the back of the couch, with a slower-than-normal motion, making sure that my mother would notice me coming from the corner of her eyes. She did. Her lips twitched, but was she attempting to hide a smile, or had they tightened? She didn't look at me, so I continued forward.

My big toe touched the hem of her skirt along the side of her thigh. Mom took a deep breath, her apple-sized breasts moving up and down, the tightness of her shirt accentuating the buoyant under-curve of her breasts. I imagined how they'd give under my fingers caresses, and my cock sprung forward as if trying to have a better look as my mother's goods.

I moved my foot toward the back of the couch, pulling Mom's skirt with me, baring her skin. Mom's head tilted to the left, her eyes down for a moment before looking forward again. I kept moving her skirt, back and back, back as far as the curve of her ass and exposing the naked side of her left cheek. She must have been wearing a thong or nothing. The thought made my balls warm as my thoughts went back to my mother's perfect cheek. When I ran my toe across my mother's skin, she brought her left hand down and pushed my foot away, but she didn't move her skirt back into place.

Good.

My cock had stretched out during this time, filling with wall-throbbing strength and turning my skin slinky into a hungry flesh pipe. Oh, man, but I wasn't going to last a week away from Jenna at this rate. No fucking way.

I extended my foot again, touching my Mom's thigh by her knee. She looked down as I slid my toe along her leg, her lips parting as she let out a long breath. Her head turned a little when I reached her butt cheek, and I saw her throat move in a swallowing motion when I brushed her flesh to the far curve of her ass. Her hand moved, but not before I traced the line of her soft backside upward.

"Does anyone want a drink?" Mom said, a touch out of breath and standing quickly. Her skirt fell back into place. "Rich? Mark?

"No, thanks," Dad mumbled.

"I'm okay," I said, studying my mother's profile and the hardened protrusion of her left nipple.

Mom walked to the right, her back to me as she left the living room and entered the dining room, then turned to the right, out of sight beyond the narrower entryway before heading into the kitchen.

I waited a minute before I said, "I think I could use a drink."

Dad mumbled something as I rose and turned to my left, hiding my semi-inflated sausage from his eyes in case he turned his head to watch me walk across the couch. Instead, I walked behind my couch, alongside the foyer, and down the narrow hallway along the stairs that cut across the living and dining rooms straight into the kitchen. I found Mom standing against the inside of the kitchen island, sipping on wine. I noticed that I could hear the faint sounds of the TV from where we stood.

"What are you doing?" Mom asked, her voice stern, and her eyes narrowed in a glare that I could only call petulant.

"What am I doing?" I asked, keeping my voice low though I probably didn't have to. "What are you doing?"

"Mark--"

"I know what you're doing. You're--"

"Don't say it--don't say it--don't say it," Mom said like a jackrabbit thumbing its food and shaking her head as her glare deepened.

I kept my mouth shut. We stared at each other. Mom's expression softened as I did my best to remain neutral. I didn't want to blow this.

She sipped her wine.

I watched, then I asked, "Can I have a sip?"

Mom, who had never allowed me a drink before, handed me her half-full glass. I took a long drink, not enjoying the spicy flavor, but I drank it anyway, then handed the nearly empty glass back to her. She refilled it, and we stood there, staring at each other in silence.

"Mom," I finally said, "You can't keep doing this to me."

Mom flinched.

"I know you think it's for the best, but look at me." I looked at my semi-hard cock that was already coming back to life as my mother dropped her gaze downward. "Is this what you wanted? To give me a--"

"Don't say it," Mom said, her eyes lingering before returning to my face. "Don't say anything. Just"--she licked her lips, her face tight, almost frowning--"just accept it."

"I can't just accept it," I said, frowning. "It's driving me crazy. I need to see Jenna more than ever now because of you."

"Mark," Mom said, letting my name hang in the air.

"Look what you do to me!" It was a harsh whisper that I gave her--an accusation. "Look."

Mom looked down again to where my cock had hardened fully. Her eyes widened a bit, and her cheeks reddened. She moved her head backward. When her eyes returned to my face, I said, "I know you mean well, but this isn't enough. I'm seeing Jenna tomorrow." I shrugged, knowing that a helpless, I'm sorry, expression shimmered across my face. "I have to."

I turned to leave.

"Mark," Mom said, her voice sharp. "Wait."

I turned around, facing her again, and watched as she finished her refill of wine. She set her glass on the island's marble top, and then she lowered her hands to her skirt. My heart stuttered, then jumped into a sprint. She grabbed the hem of her tennis skirt and inched it upward, taking her time, the tops of her thighs brightened by the light.

My vision narrowed, focusing on my mother below her waist.

She stopped just below the bottom of her muff, only for a second before continuing upward and showing me a pair of small, white panties. They were nothing more than a tiny triangle covering her inner lips and mound, leaving so much of her tender labia exposed that I sighed aloud. Her sun blonde pubic hairs reached above the low-slung waistband and sprouted from beneath the sides of her small strip of panties. I didn't fail to notice the darker shade of dampness below the outline of her clit.

"I have more," Mom whispered. "Lots more. Panties that your father has never seen me wear. I can wear them for you, and only for you, if you don't fool around with Jenna."

"Mom," I whispered, my insides deflating as I stared at her muff.

"I mean it." Mom swallowed, her voice trembling and her tits rising and falling as though she were sprinting. "I can wear them and a shirt for you every day while your father is out of the house."

"Mom--"

"You can take pictures and videos, for when you're alone," Mom said, panting. "Just don't fool around with Jenna. Please!"

Jesus, I thought she was about to cry.

"Whenever Dad is out of the house?" I asked, my throat tight. "You promise?"

"Yes," Mom whispered.

It took forever before my lips moved, but I managed to croak out the word, "Okay," before Mom could say anything else to convince me to agree to her demands.

"Okay," Mom said, her voice trembling.

"Mom," I said, "I don't know how long I can hold out. I mean"--I swallowed, and my voice started to tremble--"you're not a normal-looking woman. You're"--I shook my head--"perfect."

Mom lowered her skirt.

We stood in silence, and I realized that she wasn't going to speak. I nodded before leaving, and I went up to my room, where I took my dick out and came, then came again, then came one more time before going to bed without sending Jenna a picture of my cock. I had honestly forgotten to send her one.

Panties and a Shirt

I woke early the next morning, but I stayed in my room, watching the clock on my phone strike eight, then a minute after, then another, until five minutes had passed, then another five and then another five. During that time, the mechanical growl of the garage opening told me my father was leaving for work, but still, my mother was going to be in her panties and a shirt for me--all day long. I couldn't wait, yet my nerves hit me, and they hit me hard.

The beating of my heart went from calm, unfelt throbs to a rapid, skipping pace, like a cymbal's rounded edge vibrating after receiving the battering of a drumstick. Goosebumps sprouted across my forearms while my small hairs stood on end, bringing with them a chill that caused my shoulders to dance. Little pinpoints of fuzzy lightness danced over my skin, making my palms and the soles of my feet sweat. Disgusting. My breathing rose, every inhale whistling through my nostrils and thickening in my ears, forming a gelatinous cushion between my eardrums and the outside world.

Holy shit.

I needed to get in the moment.

The first thing I did was leave my room, speed-walk to the restroom, and turn on the cold water to full blast. Breathing hard and anticipating the chill, I jump in, the water hitting the outermost edges of my body before the rest of me followed, stepping under its jetting streams and tightening up as the freezing liquid constricted my nerve endings.

Holy shit!

That was dumb, but it did the trick.

By the time I had dried off and dressed in a T-shirt and basketball shorts--basketball shorts minus my boxer briefs, and that had been a tremor inducing decision with my mind screaming, Choose something! as I stood there as still as an asshole during a snowstorm. Eventually, I settled down enough to walk downstairs without suffering a panic attack. I was going to enjoy my mother today, no matter what.

Every step out of my room was another step up a mountain, and the tingling had returned to my palms, along with the sweat--palms only. Jesus, but my mother had a strange effect on me. I didn't see her at the top of the stairs, so I hurried down at a jog, my feet rumbling down the steps. I turned right and walked straight through the hallway, cutting into the kitchen, and that's where I found my mother, dressed for me exactly as she had promised to dress for me.

God damn, but I was one lucky son of a bitch.

Mom had chosen a simple combination of clothes, but my cock still rose at the sight of her. She sat at the breakfast nook with her profile to me. A white T-shirt made of thin cotton clung to her body, molding to her breasts, their sides and undersides, and her already rock-hard nipples. The shirt pushed right up to where the underside of her breasts met her chest and then slid straight down, stopping above her belly button and leaving her slim stomach bare, her little belly bottom shallow and kissable to my mind's eye. A white, lacy, elastic band circled her waist, about a quarter-inch thick, and that was all that I could see from her profile, meaning the rest of her panties lay snuggled between her ass cheeks in some kind of thong or G-string. I hoped she was wearing a G-string.

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I had stopped as soon as I had entered the kitchen, and my eyes slid from Mom to the table, where her striped pajama pants lay neatly folded atop her pajama shirt, along with a white, half-cup bra made of transparent threads. My cock thickened. The swelling was so tangible that I felt every blood vessel in my shaft expand until my thickness throbbed from root to tip.

"Morning," Mom said, not looking up from her coffee and paper.

"Morning," I said, my voice breaking like a kid's going through puberty.

Mom laughed, almost spilling her coffee, but she still didn't look at me. This was supposed to be business as usual, and I understood that, so I told myself.

While I did understand our arrangement, that didn't mean I was only going to take my glances as they came. I made myself some cereal and stood on the inside half of the island, leaning against the marble top with my vision in line with Mom's profile. I stared at her naked thigh, her hip, the outer half of her ass cheek, and her bare midriff. It was too bad she had her chair pulled in close to the table; otherwise, I'd at least get to see her back and her cheeks down to the chair's seat, but she'd have to stand soon enough.

Mom read her paper, and she let me watch as she sipped her coffee, taking her time and pretending as if I wasn't there, perving on her in ways a good son never would. I spent time admiring her breasts. Her shirt was so thin and tight that I could see how her nipples created a darker shade of color against the fabric. Her areoles looked small and beaded with goosebumps, but it was her nipples that stole the show.

They had been hard when I had entered the kitchen, but I swear I watched them thicken further, becoming larger at their peak while tightening near their base. God, if only I could talk my mother into walking around in her bra and panties, or better still, nothing at all. Shoveling a mouthful of cornflakes into my mouth to hide a moan, I pressed my cock against the island and enjoyed the pressure running through my shaft.

Mom placed her paper down and pushed her coffee aside. She lifted her arms above her head, her long fingers interlaced, and she arched her back as she stretched upward. Her little titties reached upward, the morning light from the patio creating a halo of sunshine around her body, and then she exhaled and pushed her chair away from the table.

"I need to get to work," Mom said, turning to look at me for the first time that morning. "You'll be around when I take my first break?"

I nodded my head. Fuck, I should have gone downstairs sooner. Now I had nothing but my memory to preserve this moment. You can take pictures and videos for when you're alone. Fuck me, but Mom had spoken those words last night. Why'd I leave my phone in my room?

Mom stood, pausing as she faced forward, her head tilting to the left as if she were deciding what side of her body to reveal to me first. Was she? Maybe, I don't know, but I was eager to see both sides of her, front and back, at the same time. We needed a mirror for her to face. After another second, Mom turned away, giving me a shot of her perfect, pear-shaped backside.

It's one thing to describe what a floss-like band of nylon running through your mother's crack looks like, and it's another to see it live and in person when she wants you to see it. It's like she's naked, but not. The string lying between her cheeks hid the most vulnerable spots on her body, like her butthole, yet it presented my vision with the illusions of her crinkly spokes, and that's what I saw: The illusion of her nakedness.

Mom continued her turn, walking around her chair and facing me. My eyes dropped to the front of her panties, where lacy flowers covered the transparent patch of cloth and formed a triangle over her mound. It was a small triangle, like last night, about an inch of her sunny-hued landing strip visible above the waistline, as the rest of her mound, hips, and thighs lay smooth and exposed to my eyes. The triangle narrowed, almost forming a point as it cupped the tender bulge of her pussy, hiding only her clit and inner lips but leaving the curved swell of her outer labia uncovered.

"Close your mouth, Mark," Mom whispered. "It's not polite to chew with your mouth full."

I shut my mouth, my teeth clicking together hard.

Mom laughed and walked out of the kitchen. It took me a moment to calm myself, but then I chased her down the hallway, watching as her ass rolled with her strides, her butt cheeks sliding against the G-string running through her crack. When she turned at the foyer and walked up the stairs, I followed, but I also waited for my mother to get five steps above me before I chased her up the stairs.

I waited for a reason: Her pussy. I loved the way her small panties cradled the softness of her lips. It was like a hammock trying to contain too much weight. The way her pussy meat bulged and rolled, trapped in that tiny strip of cloth, had taken hold of my gaze and wouldn't let go. It had turned me into my mother's obedient boy until she reached the upstairs landing, turned, and hid her pussy from my eyes.

Snapping out of my trance, I made a quick turn at the top of the stairs and darted to my room. I grabbed my phone and ran back to Mom--ran, not speed-walked, but ran--catching her office door a moment before it clicked shut.

Mom turned around, puckered her lips, but then she said, "I need to work." She looked at me, first into my eyes, and then she glanced down at the hard-on poking against my pants. For a moment, her eyes widened, but then she saw my phone.

"I'll be downstairs in a couple of hours," sounding relieved.

I nodded my head.

She looked relieved.

What had she thought I had come here to do?

"I know," I said, doing my best not to think as I spoke, "but I remembered what you said last night, about the pictures I could take, and I thought, 'I don't have enough pictures of you,' at the moment." I shrugged. "Can a son have too many pictures of his mother?"

Mom's face remained calm, so I couldn't tell if she regretted her words from last night, but finally, she said, "Snap away, but be quick about it."

I held my camera up, my eyes shifting from my mother to my screen to my mother, and then I said, "Can you pose a little?"

"Pose?"

I nodded.

"How?" Mom asked, her eyes again flicking toward my hard-on.

I had my eyes on my screen, but I saw the downward angle of her gaze.

"Smile," I said, adding, "or stare, but how about crossing your arms under your"--I swallowed to keep myself from saying tits--"across the front of your stomach? And spread your legs a little."

Pink swirls of color backlit Mom's cheeks.

"Step your feet apart, I mean," I said in a rush of words as tiny beads of sweat pushed through my pores, causing a strained warmth to flow down my forehead and into my cheeks. "Do whatever you want, but try not to be stiff about it." I stretched my neck to the right. "Why is it so hot in your office?"

Mom tried to hold in a laugh as her eyes darted down to my stiffness again. Fuck it. Let her see. I wanted her to see, and before her eyes could move away from my cock, I flexed my shaft, pulling it inward at the base and tightening the underside of my pole, forcing the head to pop upward.

Mom turned her head to the side, then, after a deep breath, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and stepped her right foot sideways, spreading her legs. The point of her pussy stood out with her legs separated and her cunny lips spreading, finding room to breathe and looking much fuller than they had downstairs. I snapped a picture, and I lowered the phone, finding an angle that gave me the best shot of the inside swells of Mom's ass that I could see when looking between her thighs.

"Enough?" Mom asked, her voice tight.

"Could you turn around," I said, making my question a statement. "And grab onto something." I licked my lips. "Lean forward, I mean."

Mom's jaw tightened, and the muscles in her neck rippled. She turned around, giving my eyes the freedom to roam over her ass. The closest thing for her to grab onto her was her chair. With her legs against the seat's edge, she leaned forward, her arms coming up and her hands resting on the headrest, the stance pushing her butt toward the camera.

"Spread your legs a little," I said, breathing hard.

I felt like a pervert for making my mother do this, yet, I also felt a thrill lighten my body, making my shoulders dance and my breath shudder. How could something so wrong make my dick so hard?

I loved it.

I hated it.

I didn't want it to end.

"Perfect," I whispered. "Mom, that's the perfect pose."

Mom's legs had tightened, the curve of her hamstrings created a sensual rise and fall that partitioned her cheeks from her legs, giving the hint of athleticism to her otherwise slender body. The bottom of her cheeks had spread, creating the illusion of a curtained window focusing on the tight band of white cloth pressing into her slit, forming a from-behind cameltoe that made my mouth water. I saw dampness there, between her legs, spreading outward. Above, where her gusset narrowed into her G-string at her perineum, I saw the rounded edges of her asshole, leading downward into a hole covered by a thin string of nylon.

"Take the pictures," Mom said, her voice tight and her breathing measured.

I snapped two pictures. I took the first one with a wide lens, keeping my mother's entire body in the frame, along with her chair and the window at the side of her desk. The next one, I zoomed in on the precious piece of meat between her legs, making sure to capture the dampness of her panties and the impression of her clit. After the second picture, Mom stood, turned around, and sat in her chair, crossing her right leg over her left.

"Run along now," she whispered as though I were a kid again. "I have to work."

I noticed fresh sparkles of sweat along her brow before I said, "I'll see you soon." I left her room, my cock swinging as I turned my body around. I hoped her eyes flickered down to my crotch one more time. She had to know her teasing wasn't going to be enough to satisfy me. She had to know, and so the question was: How was I going to tell her that I needed more from her?

I went back to my room to think about that, coming up with a scenario where I walked into her office with a speech in mind, to allowing her to catch me masturbating face to face, to--to weird, surreal fantasies that bordered on science fiction. In the end, I jerked off to Mom's pictures--making it last as long as I could--fisting several wads of cum into a towel, and then I went downstairs to wait for my mother's first break of the day.

It took forever, despite having edged myself for an hour to her photos. I filled the second hour with pacing, foot-tapping, regular jerks of my cock, and releasing the anxious waves of energy coursing through my body with push-ups, pull-ups, squats, and lunges. That last hour convinced me of one thing: I was going to put my mother's determination to keep me from the sex offender's list to the test as soon as I saw her again. I wasn't fucking around anymore. I needed pussy, and the pussy that I wanted answered to the title of Mom.

It was nearing noon when my mother came downstairs. She had changed from her T-Shirt into a small but loose, cropped, white tank top made of cotton. Her nipples were thick buds against the fabric. The hem of her shirt hung off her little breasts, baring her stomach from her sternum down and back to those tiny panties again. The whiteness of her outfit made her golden skin and hair shine, along with that small tuft of hair poking out above her G-string.

I lay on the couch opposite the TV, on its left side, the side that allowed me to look up the stairs as my mother walked downward. She saw me watching her, but I'm positive what she saw was me waiting for her in that way I used to wait for my parents when I knew that they were taking me somewhere fun, with fast rides and cotton candy and every treat that a growing boy wanted to get his hands on. Now, though, the treat I wanted was my mother, and her cheeks reddened as my eyes locked onto the pouty pussy between her thighs. (Would teasing me always embarrass her?) The thought made my knob swell.

"Hey," I said, "good to see you."

Mom rolled her eyes as she said, "It's good to see you too."

I looked down at my shorts and the growing tent, but I don't think that's what Mom meant. Hopefully, she looked as well because I gave her at least ten seconds to follow my eyes as my erection sprouted to its full hardness in front of her.

"Talk to me," Mom said when she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Follow me around while I do things."

"Yeah," I said, standing and my cock bobbing as I walked around the couch and stopped in front of her. I topped her by a head while being twice as broad as her, and her smallness sent a tingle through my cock.

It was a strange thing to notice; our size difference, but while my mother was still Superwoman to me, she was also a woman. A very sexy and desirable woman, who now may have been attainable for me. The knowledge took away some of the fear I had for my mother's authority. When she was teasing me, she wasn't Superwoman; she was... pussy.

I shivered.

"Walk with me," Mom said, walking toward the kitchen.

I followed her to the kitchen island, talking to her as she made herself a snack of fruits cut down to bite-sized portions. Every slice of her knife made her titties shake. Mom knew I was looking at them because sometimes she'd say, "Don't stand with your head hunched; it's bad for your posture." Then she'd go back to cutting with a smile on her face. When she had finished cutting her fruits, she pushed her plate to the right so that it lay between us, but I wasn't in the mood to snack on an array of neatly assorted fruits.

I pulled out my camera, snapping more pictures of her, her cheeks filling with pink with every click of the button. She continued eating even as the digital shutter snapped away. We talked about my senior year of high school, about college, about the possibility of me getting a job to keep me busy.

I laughed when she said that, but then I said, "I think a job would be good for me, but I'm not going to let it ruin my social life." I smiled at her. "I have commitments."

Mom's lips tightened, but then she put her hands together and stretched them over her head, inverting her palms and arching her back. Her breasts pushed toward me, her nipples hard and thick as they attempted to cut through her shirt. She stretched so high that she rose onto her tiptoes, and maybe she meant to, or maybe she didn't, but the barest hint of the bottom of her breasts came into view. I snapped a quick picture, and Mom relaxed and went back to eating.

Meanwhile, I stared at her picture, my cock throbbing as I admired the bottom roundness of her tits. As Mom talked about something, college, I think, and that perhaps it would be best if I went to school somewhere out of the state so that I could get a taste of the real world on my own.

"Yeah, that's the reason I should go to school out of state," I said.

Mom continued talking, and I moved from where I was, walking around her. Mom's eyes followed me, and then she turned her head over her right shoulder as far as she could as I stopped several feet behind her and then backed up several feet more.

"Well..." Mom said, still trying to look at me.

"Can you spread your legs a little," I said, making my question a statement the way I had upstairs in her office.

Mom continued standing straight up and down. She lowered her right hand to the fruits, plucking a strawberry from the plate. Her hand went up, and the strawberry disappeared as Mom brought it to her mouth. I pictured her full lips opening and the deep red of the strawberry touching the bed of her tongue, her fingers clutching the stem and holding the strawberry lightly as her teeth closed, slicing the fruit in half. Juices exploded in my mind's eye, and Mom's cheeks rippled, and her tongue bobbed as she chewed on her delicate, mid-morning treat.

"Your legs, Mom," I said as I stared down at her ass and the white string riding her crack. "Spread them."

Mom chewed, creating a wet sound, and then she sighed as she stepped her feet apart, first the left and then the right, widening her stance. Her outer labia pulled to the sides, so smooth and tender, giving my camera the perfect view of that crescent cunny bulge between her legs.

"Lean forward," I whispered as I knelt. "And stick your butt out." I didn't sound like myself in my own ears.

"Mark," Mom snapped. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm still your mother."

"Stick it out, please." A pulse shot through my cock, dropping a thick load of sticky precum into my shorts. "It's a great view, Mom. I don't think Jenna could look this good from here, but I'm willing to find out."

Mom released a long breath that sounded like exasperation. It was a sound I knew well. When I was younger, and Mom would take me to the park, she always made that sound about an hour after I had first begged her for just one more push on the swing, or one more slip down the slide or one more anything, and Mom would give--my mother really would do anything for me.

My cock throbbed again.

Mom bent forward, still holding her strawberry, and placed her elbows on the island's marble top. Her lower back arched, her spine barely visible, the little bumps pushing against her sensual skin, and her legs straightened, making her muscles go taut and adding a sexy firmness to the swan-like grace of her limbs.

"Yeah," I whispered, my voice not as shaky as it had been. "Perfect."

I needed to find out how far Mom was willing to go, and I needed to find out soon.

I snapped a picture. Then I snapped another. Mom tried to stand, but I said, "Not yet," in a low growl, and she made a wet, clicking noise with her tongue, but she leaned back onto her elbows. "I need to video this."

"Mark," Mom said, almost pouting.

"You said I could video you."

Mom did pout this time, and more precum left my balls, making my sack tingle as my cock convulsed. She stood still, though, and even leaned farther forward, stretching her upper body along the counter. I heard the plate of fruit slide across the marble island as I hit my phone's video record button.

I captured Mom's body, panning the camera down one leg, then up, then down the other, then up again. I moved the camera to the side and recorded my mother's small feet before bringing the camera back to that special bit of love between her thighs. I zoomed in on her pussy, first on the outer edges, moving the camera in so close that I could see the smoothness of her skin. The twin bulges of her labia made my balls ache, and they seemed to open and spread for me the longer I focused my camera on them--natural-born stars. The fabric of her panties pushed inward against her slit, turning a darker shade of white as her wetness dripped from her.

"Almost done?" Mom asked, her voice breathy and shaky.

"Almost," I said and moved closer to her.

"Mark," Mom whispered.

"Almost."

I stopped with the camera about six inches from her cunny. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heartbeat, and that's when an intoxicating fragrance caressed my nostrils, inside and out, making them flare as threads of pink mists curled about them. Mom's pussy. Mom's pussy perfume. She smelled like flowers and sweetness, and her fragrance clung to the hollow of my nostrils, thickening and blooming with the promise of sex and the keen notes of her desire. Holy shit, this was that intoxicating scent that came from nowhere but instantly made a person think of fucking and nothing else.

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Fuck me, but Mom was horny. She wasn't just wet. She wanted to fuck!

"Mom," I said, still kneeling, "can you turn around for me?"

Mom pushed herself to a standing position and turned around. She looked down at me, but I didn't look up at her. I had my phone focused on the triangle of her labia, recording the blonde hairs sticking above her waistline and panning the camera over the exposed sides of her mound. I panned lower, loving how the outer edges of her lips lay outside of the triangle of her little panties.

I stood, keeping the camera on my mother's body, recording her stomach and belly button and her breasts. I captured each one, zooming in on her nipples, and then I moved up to her face, where she was nibbling on the last of her strawberry, and a little bit of juice escaped her lips as she bit into it.

My cock hurt so fucking much because of this... this... this craziness.

"Mom," I said, "I can't do this anymore."

"Mark," Mom said, dropping her hand from her mouth, the strawberry's top slipping from her fingers and crashing to the wooden floor below.

"I need to see Jenna." I lowered my camera. "This is too much. I mean, look!" I tilted my phone's viewer at my cock. "Your teasing--"

"Don't say that," Mom said. "You can't see Jenna. You can't. You have to do something else. You have to find a way to stay away from her. You have to--"

"Can I touch you?" I asked, my question slicing through her words and leaving her wide-eyed. "I'm not leaving Jenna for another woman. I'm not. But if you're going to insist on this, whatever this is, I need to touch you."

"Mark," Mom said, sighing.

"I need to." I licked my lips. "And not like when I put the oil on you. I need to touch you." I shut my eyes, my face clenching. I wasn't acting. "Jenna won't tease me like you do. She wants to give me the real thing. I need more from you, Mom."

I opened my eyes, but I didn't look at my mother. I stared down and to the left, the expression on my face a tangible mixture of shame, frustration, desire, and other emotions that left me feeling like a swelling ball of rage that would continue to grow until it burst.

Mom stared at me in silence.

A minute slipped into the past.

I almost looked up at her.

Another minute disappeared from my life.

"I'm going to Jenna," I said, turning around and walking toward the hallway cutting straight to the foyer. "This isn't working. Not the way you wanted it to work. I'm sorry."

"Mark," Mom said, her voice firm but not cold. There was a kind of resignation in her tone that warmed my blood. "Wait for me in the living room. Wait for me, no matter how long I take."

Not turning around, I nodded, and I walked to the living room and sat on the couch facing the TV, placing my phone on the armrest. Time went by, one minute, then two--my dick still hard. By the third minute, I had started tapping my right foot, my balls now aching. By the fourth minute, my left foot had joined my right, my knees rising and falling in unison. I breathed in deeply, taking in as much air as possible to calm myself, but it wasn't working. I looked toward the kitchen often for the next several minutes, and by the eighth minute, I stood and almost walked back to the kitchen, but Mom had said to wait, no matter how long she took.

Fuck.

God had not given horny eighteen-year-olds the patience to wait for sex. It was no wonder that so many of us got into trouble. I was ready to stand up again by the time half an hour had passed, but then I heard the soft tap of Mom's feet on the hallway's wooden floor.

I turned to the right, looking at my mother, who was coming out of the kitchen with a full glass of wine. I guessed it was not her first since I had left the kitchen, and maybe not her second. There was a soft glaze filming her eyes.

Mom stepped from the wooden foyer and down into the carpeted living room, walking around the far end of the couch. She sipped her wine and then walked forward, stopping in front of me. There was plenty of room between the couch and the coffee table--Mom didn't believe in clutter--and she stared down at me with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Mom?" I asked.

Mom licked her lips before saying, "If I let you touch my legs, you will not see Jenna."

"For today," I said. "I won't see Jenna for today."

Mom narrowed her brows.

"I promise." I tilted my head to the left and then rolled it to the right before straightening it. "Tomorrow too."

Mom inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a heavy sound. Was she trying to guilt me into changing my mind? It wasn't going to work. My mom--any mom--standing in front of their son while wearing a pair of tiny panties and a cropped tank top that hugged her tits like a second skin was not about to convince their sex-starved child that touching her wasn't in his best interest.

"Okay," Mom said. "Get off the couch."

I stood, looming over my mother. She brought her wine up to her lips and drank. Her green eyes found mine, and they didn't break contact. The stem of the wine glass tilted upward, the round base pointing at me as the wine disappeared into my mother's mouth. Every last drop of the wine ran down her throat before she turned to her left and moved away from me. Mom walked one step and then glided into the couch with a cat-like crawl, her right knee going up first, then her right hand. She braced herself as she set her wine glass down, the stretch of her arm and spine lifting her ass into the air. With her legs parted, that fabric capturing her pussy folds seemed to stretch, and she then brought her left hand and leg onto the couch and lay down on her stomach with her legs closed.

"Go ahead," Mom said. "Touch me."

"Anywhere," I said.

"No," Mom snapped. "Not anywhere."

"I mean anywhere that you aren't wearing clothes."

"My legs," Mom said. "My back and my sides. That's where you can touch me." Mom made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I'm still your mother." She gathered her hair and pulled it over her left shoulder. "Remember that."

"I know," I said. "No other woman could convince me not to see Jenna."

Mom's head turned as if she were about to look over her shoulder at me, but then she faced forward. She grabbed a couch pillow and rested her cheek on its softness. Her eyes faced the backrest, and then they closed. I took that as a sign to get in my feels.

There was no lotion this time, only skin-to-skin contact. I dropped to my knees, my hard-on hovering above the cushions and pointing at Mom's hip. I placed my left hand on the small of her back, the warmth of her skin flowing into my hand, and I felt the rise of goosebumps across her flesh. I placed my right hand on her left leg, the outside leg, above her ankle, and I stroked upward toward the back of my mother's knee.

Mom stiffened, and she drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a tremor. I spread my fingers along her calf, touching as much of her as possible, with my thumb pointed upward along her leg. At her knee, I rubbed her skin in a small circle, then I moved back down and then back up, pulling her leg toward the edge of the couch cushions. Mom resisted at first, but I increased my pressure, and slowly, I managed to get her to spread her legs for me. A narrow V opened up, pointing straight to the white cloth cupping her cunny meat. My eyes focused between her legs, and my cock throbbed, begging me to stick it right there as if I had a say in the matter.

In due time, I told my prick.

I rubbed my mother's lower back as I moved my hand to her other calf. My fingers tips pressed into her, and I slid my hand up to the hem of her crop top and around to her far side, giving her slender body a squeeze. Mom's breathing deepened, but she didn't tell me to stop touching her above her waist. I could tell that she was trying to control the volume of her breathing.

I moved my right hand back to her left calf and moved upward, stopping at her knee, moving down, then pushing back to her knee and moving above it. Mom tensed at the first touch of my fingertips along her inner thigh, my long digits curving inward toward the softer part of her leg.

She felt smooth and soft, but the deeper I pressed into her skin, the firmer her muscles grew. I moved my fingers to her right thigh, brushing her flesh with the backs of my fingers and then moving back to her left thigh, feathering her skin with my fingertips, almost tickling her, and doing my best to send pleasure through her body. A man was touching her between her legs. It had to feel good, right?

My eyes moved to the cloth that was cupping my mother's pussy, and I smiled when I saw the damp line outlining the length of her maternal slit. God, my father was lucky to have been inside her small hole. My cock pulsed. I bit back a moan as I took my hand from my mother's back and angled my body toward her head, making it easier for me to place my hands on the back of her thighs, just above her knees.

Licking my lips as my mother shivered, I pulled my hands upward, adding pressure to my fingertips. My digits were on the top of Mom's thighs, but my thumbs were on the insides, where Mom had to be the most sensitive. Before my fingertips could reach the bottoms of Mom's butt cheeks, I stopped my hands, but I rowed my thumbs along her inner thigh, massaging her and then caressing her far beyond the measure of a normal mother/son relationship.

God, my dick hurt. If only I could take it out.

I moved my hands higher.

"Mark," Mom said, her voice rushed. "My legs only."

"I know," I said as I slid my hands inward, down to her inner thighs, my fingertip about a quarter inch away from the start of her inner lips. I curled my fingers over my mother's flesh, pulling her skin hard enough to stretch the exposed layers of her outer folds further away from the cover of her panties.

"Mark," Mom gasped as her cunny lips slipped away from each other.

I stretched my fingers outward, getting closer to the heat radiating from between her thighs. I curled them again, watching as her pussy pulsed with my movements. Her lower lips puckered as I pushed inward, and they opened as I curled my fingers away from her center groove. I placed more pressure on my mother's thighs, forcing her right leg against the back of the couch and her left leg closer to the edge. The left side of her cunny showed more skin than her right side.

I curled my fingers again.

A soft moan escaped my mother's lips.

Sighing, I swept my hands up the backs of her thighs, and as my heart beat faster, I pushed upward, inching my fingers onto her bare butt cheeks and then over them. Mom whimpered. As I did this, I humped my hips forward, rubbing the underside of my cock against the couch. Pleasure shot through me. I humped the couch faster, pushing precum from my cock and pressing my fingers harder into my mother's ass--really making her feel my touch. Mom reached back with her hands, placing her fingers over mine, but I pushed upward anyway, not stopping until I held both of her firm hams in my palms with my thumbs resting along her crack.

A strange, helpless whine left my mother's lips.

"Mom," I said, talking without thinking, "can I jerk off on you?"

My heart stopped. Why had I asked her that question? What happened to taking my time? What happened to moving slowly? What happened to not shoving my head up my ass? I squeezed my Mom's butt hard, not knowing what to do, but I had to do something.

Mom pushed herself up into the Upward Dog yoga pose. Without saying a word, she slid her left leg from the couch and then her right, facing away from me, and she walked around the couch and up onto the foyer, and then up the stairs, her pear-shaped as swaying as she left me alone.

Fuck me!

I had fucked up.

The Game Changer

Can I jerk off on you?

That was such a stupid thing to ask my mother.

I sat on the couch, my mind empty and my cock raging hard, but I didn't bother touching it. I wanted to grab ahold of that big fucker. God damn it, I wanted to. A good jerk was something I could use right now. Why did we ever start this? Why did I let it get this far? Jenna's dad wasn't going to do anything to me. This was a big waste of time, and even worse--much worse--this had made things strange around my mother. What the fuck had she been thinking?

So much for pushing her, you pussy, my cock said to me, the accusation in his voice throwing shame at me from all directions. You fucking Momma's boy!

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I grabbed it--it was from my mother--and it read, Bring me a glass of wine.

My heart sped up, and a hollow boom echoed within my chest. I tingled all over. What did this mean? Was Mom going to end it? Or was Mom going to--

Get the wine, my cock shouted at me, and that's what I did, striding to the kitchen with long steps as my cock bobbed up and down and side-to-side. I grabbed her glass, made sure it was full, and jogged upstairs, aware of how hard and stiff my cock felt. How long it felt. How thick it felt. I was proud of my size, but at that moment, I didn't have a cock between my legs; I had a redwood that I was about to turn into a battering ram.

No. I slowed down as I reached Mom's bedroom door. Not a battering ram. What an asshole I could be--driving my mother to her room. I didn't know what was going to happen in my parents' bedroom, but I had pushed my mother as far as I was willing to, no matter what. (So I had thought at the time.) What had I been thinking? She was my mother.

My knuckles rapped against the door, the touch was soft, and the disruption of noise was barely noticeable. It didn't come open. Mom had shut it all the way, and when I tried the knob, I found it locked. I knocked again, harder than before, but not too hard--hard enough to make the door rattle a little. I wanted to knock harder, but my balled fingers hovered in front of the door, unable to move forward.

I was about to knock again when the door opened. First a crack, and then enough to reveal my mother in all her tank top and small panty-wearing glory. My cock, still hard, suffered an involuntary jerk that drew Mom's glassy eyes. I had the wine in my right hand, a chardonnay from an open bottle in the fridge. Mom raised her eyes, extended one swan-like arm, and plucked the glass from my hand, our fingers touching against the stem.

"All right," she said. "But, you can't go to Jenna after this." She paused. "For a week."

"All right, what?" I asked, my mouth going dry. The question was an honest one. All right, what? She couldn't be saying what I thought she was saying, not after walking away from me. All right, what? I only wanted to know.

"All right," Mom said, her eyes tightening, but her voice came out meek and resigned. "You can jerk off on me." Mom's eyes glanced downward again. "On my butt, over my panties."

Oh, those fucking words.

My cock jerked again, and this time the spasm registered on my face. Mom looked at me one more time--her little boy--and what I saw in her eyes told me that she didn't see her little boy anymore. I don't know what she saw, but it wasn't the child she had raised.

She turned around and walked deeper into the room. I watched her taut, pear-shaped ass roll with her strides. When she reached the bed, her right knee slid onto the mattress, parting her cheeks, followed by her left knee and her left right hand. Mom crawled across her bed, prowling, her knees sliding forward, and her white-clad pussy bulge rolling between her thighs. She held her wine held in her left hand, placing the glass on the nightstand next to her white bed, then she lay down and pulled her hair over her right shoulder and waited, on the bed, with her legs slightly parted and the line of her panties creating a beacon of brightness between her thighs.

Holy fuck.

I swallowed my gathering saliva as I walked across the threshold to my parents' bedroom. A tingle ran through my skin. This was my mother's room. My father's room. This is where my father slid his cock into my mother on a nightly basis. He'd go into her mouth or between her fingers, or up into the little hole between her legs and maybe the smaller one between her buns--no, my mother had to be an anal virgin. I was sure of it in the same way that a kid is sure that his mother is as pure as the Holy Spirit and always would be.

Until she lets her son jerk off on her butt.

I walked to her bed, my cock bobbing as it pushed against my shorts, creating a strain in the tip that ran down my shaft into its base. My prick had never been this hard before. I stopped at the edge of Mom's bed, breathing hard as my heartbeat rose and my skin tingled. There was a choice to be made here, and I made it, first pushing my basketball shorts down my legs and over my feet, and then, after a quick pause as my hairs stood on end, I pushed my boxer briefs down my thighs.

Oh, god, that felt good.

The heat of my cock met the coolness of my mother's sunlit room, soothing the numbing ache that had swollen my meat to monstrous proportions. I knew that I was big, but right now, I looked downright dangerous with this dick jutting out from below my waist and... my shirt. My shirt. I was standing only in my shirt, like some rapey-perv who was afraid to get naked. I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the floor as a shiver ran through me. I looked back down at my cock, and then at my mother, where she had buried her face in a white, satin-covered pillow.

Look at me, I thought, but Mom didn't move.

I climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath my weight and stalling my movements. After a quick pause to see what my mother would do--I don't know why I paused to see what she would do--I shuffled forward on my knees. When I reached her feet, I had a choice to make: Should I straddle my mother's thighs, or should I crawl between her legs? I thought for a second before I pushed my knees between her feet, forcing her to spread her legs open.

Mom's skin burned to the touch. My sack tightened with an airy lightness, though my balls felt the ache. I shuffled forward, keeping my knees pressed to my mother's skin, and she spread her legs wider and wider as I moved forward. As she opened her legs, her thighs parted, and that little hammock of white cupping the smooth tenderness of her cunny narrowed, allowing the swells of her outer lips to bulge outward. I needed to lick her. My eyes focused on the hollow dip that separated her inner thighs from her outer labia, and a sigh left my throat, which turned into a low moan when I saw the line of dampness darkening my mother's narrow slit.

The dampness was darker than before.

Holy shit.

I continued upward. My knees brushed Mom's knees, and then her thighs. She had to bend her left knee, pulling it up the bed, which tilted her hips upward and to the right, along with her upper body. Her head turned to the left, but she pulled the pillow with her, keeping the side of her face buried in it. I couldn't spread my mother's legs much more than they were, unless...

I nudged my mother's right thigh with my knee. She tried to move it to the side. I lowered my right hand, fingers pointing down, and I cupped her thigh near her pussy, giving it a push. Mom inhaled a shaky breath as the heat between her legs washed over my hand. I applied pressure to her leg, then squeezed her hot flesh, saying, "Come on, Mom, up you go."

Mom bent her right knee as her breathing grew harsher. She brought her leg up, which forced her ass up, and evened out her hips. She faced forward, pulling the pillow with her as she knelt in front of me in a low, frog-like squat that parted her ass cheeks and opened her muff to my eyes.

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I uttered a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan.

Mom whimpered at my hungry sound.

What thoughts were running through her head? What did she think I was going to do to her?

My prick pointed straight ahead as I shuffled forward and pressed my knees beneath the small gap of space under my mother's thighs. I lowered my ass to my heels as Mom settled the weight of her thighs against mine. My cock, as hard as a steel pipe, hovered above her ass so close that the warmth of her body dampened my incest-craving dipstick.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I stared at the panty string running through my mother's crack, and in her low-frog-squat, I could see the golden spokes of her asshole in ultra-high definition. How small did her butthole have to be to remain hidden by that string? That string widened at her perineum, thicker nylon bracketing silk, but the damp flesh to the right and left of its center still lay exposed--so fucking sexy. Mom's pussy, with her legs spread and her body stretched forward as it was, pressed hard against her transparent panties, the lacy flower pattern covering and hiding the wet gap between her inner lips.

My cock swelled, or seemed to, rising upward and filling with a thickness that made me afraid for my knob. Was it about to burst? I stretched my left arm forward and took my mother by her hip. She shuddered as I squeezed her flesh hard, laying claim to what should have been my father's property. I lifted my right hand to my mouth, the palm facing upward, and I spit into my palm. Half a second later, I had my slippery fingers around my shaft, and a half-second after that, I was pumping my dick flesh hard enough to make my balls swing back and forth.

I squeezed my cock harder, fucking my fist while jerking my hand up and down my shaft. My balls slapped against my thighs; the lewdness of the smacking sounds sent tingles through the tip of my dick. I gripped my mother's hip harder, pressing my fingers into her, and as I rocked my body forward, fucking my fist, my thighs rocked into her thighs, which pushed her body forward. I had to pull her back against me, creating a pseudo fucking that soon had her panting.

"Huh-huh-huh," Mom uttered as her body moved back and forth.

"Fuck," I gasped and paused my stroking. I looked down, opened my mouth, and dropped some more spit onto my cock. Some caromed off my shaft and landed on my mother's ass. Moaning, I resumed jerking my dick above my mother's butt.

The line of her thong gleamed beneath my cock. If only I could take my knob and slide it through her crack. If only I could spank her small ass. If only I could... I slid my hand from her hip around her thigh and onto her ass, palming the tender meat of her backside with my fingers pointing down. Mom, still taking the slapping of my thighs into hers, pushed back against me whenever I humped her little body forward. She was working hard to keep her head from hitting the headboard. My cock hand blurred, my fingers concentrating on my knob as pleasure shot through my shaft and buzzed around my balls.

"Oh, fuck, Mom," I moaned. "I'm close, Mom. I'm so fucking close."

Mom kept her face buried in her pillow, the slapping of our thighs growing in tempo and pitch. I squeezed her ass once more before I started sliding my fingers downward. Mom shook her head. Did she know what I had planned? Precum shot from my cock, landing on her right cheek, and I angled my hand down between her legs, cupping the crux of her left thigh--that hollow dip right next to her outer labia, my pinky edging her soft meat.

Mom moaned into her pillow, her butt shooting forward. I stood on my knees, still stroking, still holding her between her legs, refusing to let go, but I was still off to the side of her pussy. I wanted to touch that tender piece of pie between her legs. I wanted to hold her cunny in my palm and slide my fingers through her pudding-soft folds, spreading her lips open and touching the stickiness dripping out of her. But I couldn't do that. I could touch her where I was, outside of her panties, where her damp skin filled my hand, and my pinky lay against the tenderness of her labia, the heat between her legs sending electric pulses through my body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I panted, my orgasm closing in as the tip of my glans tingled with bliss. "I'm gonna come, Mom. Fuck, I'm gonna come on your ass, Mom." I stroked my shaft harder. "Gonna come on my mother's ass!" I tightened my grip around my pole while spreading my fingers and gripping my mother's thigh hard. My pinky swept outward, over her outer labia, brushing the nylon border of her panties. "Oh, fuck, Mom, I'm gonna come."

Tremors of pleasure shook my thighs, buzzing my groin and weakening my legs. My balls tightened and swelled. My shaft expanded, and a lightning rod of ecstasy electrified my glans, ringing my corona and traveling down my shaft into my sack. "I'm coming, Mom. I'm coming on you!"

My balls erupted, spewing a thick river of jizzy goo that swelled my urethra before shooting out of my cock and landing on my mother's buns. I looked down, aiming my cockhead between her cheeks and dumping load after load of hot, sticky cream into her crack. My cum splashed against her asshole, blending with her G-string, and I lowered my knob, spurting cum onto her perineum and flinging the last rope of jizz onto the cotton covering the softness of her pussy, never slowing my cock stroking.

"Mom, Mom, Mom," I whispered, my voice shaking as much as my body.

Aftershocks of pleasure rolled through my balls and slithered out of my piss slit, causing me to tremble. I squeezed Mom between her legs again, brushing the edge of her panties again and then again, the tip of my pinky pushing her skin inward as I tried to get under her nylon leg band. Her hand appeared between her legs from below, and she pushed my hand away with a frantic slap, then she cupped her cunny and protected it from me with a tight squeeze of her fingers. She trembled. I didn't fight her. Instead, I circled the base of my cock, pushing outward, and forcing the last of my cum onto the backs of her fingers.

Mom lowered her legs, and I shuffled backward off her bed. She turned her head to the left, breathing hard and keeping her eyes closed. The hand with my cum on it remained between her legs, her pussy resting on her wrist.

"Get out," Mom panted.

"Okay."

I turned to leave, and she said in a tired voice, "One week, Mark. You have to stay away from Jenna for one week."

"Jenna is willing to do this for me every day," I said. There were no limits now. "Every day, Mom."

"Get out!"

"I'll see you tonight."

I gathered my clothes and went to my room. Jenna would be expecting my call once she got out of school, and we had things to discuss. I wasn't about to break up with my girlfriend or stop seeing her, but dropping my load on my mother's ass had given me an idea. If a mother could convince her son to stay away from his girlfriend, what could a daughter do to convince her father to let her see her boyfriend?

Maybe I could have my mother and Jenna too.

Maybe.

Chapter 11

A Plan for Jenna

"How come you aren't coming over?" Jenna asked.

I had my earbuds plugged into my phone while I spoke as softly as possible into the speaker. I had shut and locked my bedroom door before the start of the conversation, checking my hallway and making sure that my mother was still in her room, which she must have been since I hadn't seen her downstairs or in the backyard. Even so, I had turned my computer on, clicked on my music, and set the volume to low.

"I'm easing my mother's worry," I said, smiling into my phone's camera. "We'll be together soon, I promise."

"Let me see it," Jenna whispered.

Sighing--on the inside--I swung my phone away from my face and toward my cock, where my dick stood big, hard, and swollen with the memory of my mother's body running through its head. On her side of the phone, Jenna sat naked, with her phone on a stand and her hairless-from-the-eyebrows-down body on full display for my hungry gaze. Jenna always gave me a hard-on, but this particular hard-on was still the result of coming on my mother's ass, which had given me an idea.

Would Jenna buy into it?

Hopefully.

"Mmm," Jenna moaned for me. "That looks so yummy. I want to lick it."

I groaned and said, "Soon, baby, I promise."

"Now," she pouted.

"Soon."

"No, now," Jenna pouted again, her voice taking on a little girl's whine. "I'll call you Daddy."

"That's hot," I said. Had Mom ever called Dad, Daddy? "Speaking of Daddies..."

Jenna rolled her eyes. She lay on her left side, with her legs extended and her left hand propping her head up. Her tits, in all their teenage perkiness, stayed tight to her chest, though the side of her left breast pressed into her mattress' comforter. Unlike Mom, Jenna had no hair between her thighs, and only the smooth triangle of her mound was visible as her thighs lay one atop the other.

"My dad still says, 'You're too young for sex.'" Jenna groaned and turned onto her back, her tits shaking and settling on her chest, their bases spreading out. "If I'm too young for sex, then how come that's all my pussy can think about? I'm eighteen!"

I groaned again and said, "I have an idea. It's kinky, but it may help take our relationship to the next level."

"Yeah?" Jenna turned back onto her side. "Does it involve me spreading my pussy for you?" She smiled, first big and playful, but then her lips spread outward, turning sly. Her eyes drew my eyes' focus, and she licked her lips for the camera. "Does it, Daddy?"

"It does now." I shook my head. "Well, maybe later, but my idea focuses on convincing your dad to let you give up the pussy."

Jenna laughed, looking down between her legs. "The pussy, huh? Do you think he'll say, 'Hey, Jenna, I think it's about time for you to give up the pussy'?"

I waited for her laughter to end before I said, "Not in those words. Are you going to listen to me or laugh at me?"

"Both?" Jenna laughed. "Can I play with myself while you talk about my dad?"

Her words poured out of her mouth with a thick, honey-like sweetness that fed naughty thoughts through my ears--a merry-go-round of Jenna's tits, her round ass, her pink pussy, and her white-toothed smile enticed me to slip into her body. Ah, fuck, but I had no willpower.

"Yes," I said. "You can play with yourself."

"You jerk off too."

I nodded, thinking, Don't be angry with me, Mom. I'm just jerking off.

Jenna turned on her bed, her feet facing her camera and her head disappearing as she lay back on her mattress. She dug her heels into her comforter, pulling her body closer to the camera with her knees open and her thighs pointing the way to her pink-slitted clam. When she got as close to the camera as she could, she grabbed a pillow and placed it under her head, and then another, propping herself up enough to view her phone's screen and me within it.

I could see her pussy, her inner thighs, her spreading butt cheeks, and the bottom of her crack as it disappeared against her comforter. Her stomach led the way to the bottoms of her tits, capped by thick, juicy-pink nipples and then her blonde, Barbie doll face. Looking into her blue eyes, I thought, I hope my plan works.

"Let me see that big cock," Jenna purred. "I miss playing with it."

I moaned, keeping my voice as low as possible. I held my phone in my left hand, as far below my cock as I could reach so Jenna could look at my cock while I admired her snatch. The position was going to be awkward, so I grabbed a book from my nightstand, and after a minute, I managed to prop my phone up between my legs in a position similar to Jenna's.

"Do you miss the taste of my pussy?" Jenna asked as she used her index fingers to pull her little lips apart, forming a pair of dewy butterfly wings split by the line of her slit and capped by her clit's swollen jewel.

"Yes," I whispered as a line of white cream formed between the meeting place of Jenna's pink pussy walls.

Jenna collected the cream with her right middle finger and brought it to her lips. Her tongue flicked out, the point pushing against her cunny honey and brushing upward, gathering the juices and pulling them into her mouth.

"Fuck," I hissed, grabbing my cock and stroking it from its balls to its tip.

"What's your plan?" Jenna asked. Her fingers had moved to her breasts, wetting her nipples and twisting the thick nubs between her thumbs and forefingers. "What's your plan for my daddy?

"I'll tell you after we come," I said, stroking my cock harder as precum lathered my mushroom cap in a clear, slippery liquid.

"No," Jenna pouted. "Tell me now."

"Okay," I said, still stroking my prick. "Your dad thinks--mmm--that he can keep you from fucking me, but--oh, yeah, show me that pink, baby--does he think it's going to keep you from--oh, fuck, you're wet--from getting horny?"

Jenna shook her head, then asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I said, breathing hard as my forearm started to burn, "what if he saw how sexual you became when he keeps you away from me?"

"How about with you?" Jenna moaned, sliding two small fingers into the slippery hole between her legs. "That would be hot if he caught us again."

"No, not with me, but that would be hot." I took a deep breath. "I meant, in general. What if he saw how horny you got when you're not having any kind of sex?"

"Keep talking," Jenna panted.

"What if you teased him?" I couldn't tell her that my mother was teasing me, could I? No, I couldn't--

"Oh, you nasty pervert," Jenna whimpered. "You sick fuck. I love it."

"You need to dress as sexy as possible around your house."

Jenna's moans grew louder as her fingers worked her clit hard and pussyhole deep, making wet, sloshy sounds that tightened my balls.

"Short shorts and tank tops," I said. "Tight shirts without a bra. Make sure your nipples are hard." I moaned, stroking my dick faster. "Leave your shower robe open around the house."

Jenna moaned, nearly sobbing as she finger-fucked her pussy with growing speed.

"Wear loose shorts without panties." Would she? "And let him see up the leg holes."

"Oh, yeah," Jenna moaned. "I could sit on his lap, too."

I moaned.

"I could make him think that I'm going crazy without your cock in me." Jenna's pussy glistened with her juices. "And I am, baby. I need your big fucking dick in my pussy so bad!"

She did, I could see that, as much as I needed her pussy--as much as we needed to be together. After we had come, Jenna needed to come again. This time she turned around, getting on her knees and showing off her slit from behind. We talked about her father and how nasty it would be for her to tease him with her precious teen body. By the time she had come, her pussy was a dripping mess of sticky honey and yummy creamy.

"I'm going to do it," Jenna said afterward. "I'm gonna tease the fuck out my father, and he's gonna let me have your dick. It's showtime, baby."

I laughed, thinking, God damn it, Mom, what have you started?

Downstairs with Mom

I left my room about an hour after talking to Jenna with an idea of what I would do when I saw Mom again--inspired by Jenna creaming to the notion of teasing her father. I stepped lightly and quickly, with my tablet in my right hand, as I headed downstairs. I had dressed in a pair of loose, black basketball shorts and a body-fitting workout shirt of matching color. The downstairs was as dark as I had hoped, with the light coming from the television in blinking spurts of white, gray, and darker, mood-setting atmospherics. Dad lay on the couch to the right of Mom, swallowed by its size with his head on a pillow, and Mom sat on the back couch, her flaxen hair shining, despite the darkness.

My footfalls barely registered to my ears, but there was no way they'd reach Mom or Dad over the explosions and shell bursts of the war movie they were watching. When I rounded my side of the back couch, Mom turned her head, the surprise on her face making me smile as much as her outfit did. Had she expected me sooner or not at all? It didn't matter, because now I was there.

Mom had dressed as though she had expected me. She wore a tight, gray tank top, low cut with three pink buttons in the center of her chest. If she undid those buttons, the halves would spread under the pressure of trying to contain her breasts and reveal her twin mounds almost to her nipples. Her shirt had a pink, lacy trim, as did her gray boy shorts. They were small shorts, the kind that a teenage girl might wear despite being too small for her body. The smallest portion of Mom's butt would hang out if she stood, showing off that smile at the bottom of her cheeks--the crease that formed where her hamstring met the meat of her ass. The shorts were small but not tight, and the leg holes didn't lay flush against her thighs. At the right angle, they'd hide nothing from my prying eyes.

As dirty thoughts passed through my head, my cock thickened, begging me to take a look between my mother's legs as quickly as possible.

"Did you take a pill tonight, Dad?" I asked, sitting down on the cushion next to Mom.

"Why, are you afraid I'm going to sleep down here, and you won't get the TV?" Dad asked, then yawned. "Yeah, I took a pill."

"Just asking," I said. "You won't mind if I talk to Mom while you watch your movie? We were talking about colleges today, and I've been looking at some and--"

"Whisper," Dad said. "Whisper, and let me fall asleep."

"You got it," I said.

"Colleges?" Mom asked, looking at me as the TV's light danced over her face, striking like lightning as the scenes changed. Her tone may as well have said, Is that best you could come up with: Colleges?

I shrugged, and Mom looked back at the TV. I hit my tablet's touchscreen and opened a text file. I thought for a moment before I typed, Are you upset about this afternoon?

After studying the words for another minute, I slid my tablet over to Mom and said, "Have a look at this one."

Mom turned her head toward the tablet. She puckered her lips, then took it from my hands and read what I had written. She took her time, and I slid closer to her, my shoulder and thigh almost touching her.

I watched as Mom raised her right hand and brushed her fingertips across the tablet's border. She took even breaths, then her fingers typed, punching the keys with quick strikes, hitting backspace, then moving more slowly. I didn't read her words so much as I watched her graceful fingers poke at the keyboard.

She handed the tablet back to me, and it read, I don't know.

Oh, man, how was I supposed to work with that? I typed back, You didn't say no, and I handed Mom the tablet.

I know, Mom typed and handed it back to me.

I moved closer to Mom, placing the tablet between us, resting it on our thighs, my right, her left. I typed, I had fun. I paused, my fingers hovering over the soft keyboard. I would have been with Jenna today if you hadn't let me do that. I took my fingers away, placing them below the tablet on the side of my upper thigh. The backs of my knuckles were close to Mom's skin beneath her shorts--so close I could feel the warmth of her body.

Mom typed, and I read, That doesn't make it right.

But it makes me safe, doesn't it?

Before Mom could answer me, I opened another window, clicked on a picture folder, and brought up a picture of Jenna in a tiny, emerald bikini that lay plastered on her skin like a hentai drawing. The upper and lower swells of her breasts were on display while her nipples poked against the green nylon of her bikini bra as if green were her nipple's natural color. She was on her knees, sitting back on her heels with her thighs spread. The V of her legs narrowed toward her teenage cunny, where the thickness of her meaty, outer labia bulged outward from her panty's triangular covering. And beneath the green fabric, every fold of my girlfriend's pussy pressed against her panties, projecting her labia with three-dimensional craftsmanship.

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See, I wrote after switching back to the text file. How do you expect me to stay away from her?

There are WOMEN your age.

But I love Jenna, I typed, my skin tingling and my cheeks warming. The only other woman I love is you.

I moved my fingers away from the tablet, placing them on the outside of my right thigh; only this time, I brushed my knuckles against Mom's skin. My eyes moved from the tablet to her profile, stopping to admire the soft slope of her rising and falling breasts and the hard nipples poking through their cotton, under-lit by the tablet's white glow. Upward, my gaze continued to her Viking-like features, taking in her lean jaw and full lips, her prominent cheeks, and the fay-like quality of her composition.

Mom stared down at the tablet, her lips slightly parted, and the urge to move forward and plant a kiss on them radiated through me with the strength of a gunshot. I looked away from Mom, over to Dad, and then back at the screen--my cock had thickened in that time, forcing a soft mmm reaction in my throat and a slight clenching of my eyes.

Mom hadn't answered. I looked at her again. Her head turned, angling to the left, her eyes latching onto my crotch and the growing tent in my lap. Mom's gaze sent a tingle through my cock, the head perking up as my shaft surged forward, pushing my knob against my shorts in a spear-like thrust. This time I groaned aloud.

Mom slapped my thigh.

I brushed my fingers against her bare leg before I typed, See what your plan is doing to me? I tapped the screen as if thinking, which I was, but I was only thinking about how long to wait before I started typing again. I have porn to jerk off to, but I don't want to come alone. You're not helping me unless you have a way to take care of me.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Mom typed, Why isn't looking at me enough for you? Her eyes moved to my cock again. I swear I saw a tremor run through her as she took her next breath. I'm your mother.

I didn't hesitate. My fingers flashed across the tablet, typing, And that's why you're the only woman I can cheat on Jenna with.

Mom's eyes widened, then narrowed. Her next exhale took a long time to billow downward from her nostrils. The sound from the TV grew softer, taking on a distant vibration while my senses concentrated on my mother. Cheat. I had typed cheat. Mom's following inhale echoed in my ears as though it were one of my own breaths. She turned her head, looking at Dad, and my eyes followed her gaze. He lay deep within the couch, on his back, his head resting on a pillow pushed against the base of the armrest. He had the couch's blanket over his body, covering him from the chest down, and his hands rested on his stomach, over the blanket. Fuck, I wish the man would snore.

I looked back at Mom.

Frozen. She's frozen. I took a deep breath. My fingers curled and uncurled, inching toward the tablet's soft keyboard. This is her game. It stops when she says no... and means it. A chill ran through me. What had I meant by 'and means it'?

I pressed the back of my hand against my mother's thigh until I met resistance, then I slid it upward, turning my pinky to the right along my mother's skin. A shiver ran through Mom as I placed my hand on her thigh below her short-shorts. I squeezed her leg while reaching for the tablet's keyboard with my left hand.

Do you know what I love most about watching you?

My chest turned thick as I waited for Mom to reach for the keyboard. When she did, her fingers moved by the millimeter, their forward momentum almost nonexistent, but when their tips contacted the keypad, she typed in a rush, What?

I moved much quicker than my mother. Your pubic hair. I love the way your blonde curls stick up over the waistband of the little panties you wore for me today. I heard Mom's quick inhale. I didn't even know that Moms were allowed to own panties that small. I glanced at her, using only my eyes. I swear I saw her smile, so I swept my thumb across her thigh, opening and closing it as I typed. Jenna doesn't have pubic hair. She's smooth between her legs. Mom breathed in sharply again. I get extra hard whenever I see your thick, blonde hairs.

Mom said nothing.

Do you dress like that for Dad?

Mom typed, You shouldn't talk like that to me, taking her time and hitting backspace more than once.

Why not? I opened all of my fingers across her thigh. Jenna lets me talk to her that way. She likes it. I slid my hand across her thigh, following the inward curve and getting my middle, ring, and pink fingers between her legs before she closed them tight, trapping my three digits between her warm limbs. I can show you the videos.

Mom looked at me, then typed, You have videos?

Not new ones. I squeezed her thigh again. Not since you started this.

Her fingers moved like a whirlwind over the screen. You have to delete them. She looked at me again. And so does she.

Why?

Don't be stupid.

As slowly as I could, as my heartbeat rose and my cock pulsed with the idea of what I was about to tell my mother, I typed, I'll get rid of them if you let me touch you. I tapped the screen several times before I continued. Right now.

Mom stared at the screen. I stared at her. My heart swelled until my chest could no longer contain its size. Beneath my shorts, my balls tightened, and my cock tried to harden further, intent on stiffening until it snapped in two. As I was getting ready to type again, Mom answered me.

Your father is right next to us.

I breathed a sigh of relief so loud that Mom turned her head toward me. I stayed focused on the screen as I wrote, He's either asleep or too sleepy to notice.

No.

You let me do more this afternoon.

I squeezed my mother's thigh and forced my forefinger between her legs, joining my other fingers and getting a better grip on her limb.

Can you wait until tomorrow? Mom typed.

I swept my thumb across the top of my mother's thigh as I applied pressure to her legs, seeking deeper access to her body. Mom didn't budge. She squeezed her thighs together harder, and the heat from between them warmed my hand.

Stop, Mom typed.

If I do, can we go to my room?

No.

Fine, I typed. But this is what I have waiting for me next door.

I moved my fingers across my screen, clicking buttons and swiping folders until I pulled up a picture of Jenna, and she hadn't dressed as an innocent eighteen-year-old girl would have. In the picture, she was wearing her friend's black lingerie: stockings, garters, see-through panties, and an open-bust shelf bra. Her black, satin-gloved hands with white lace at the cuffs covered her nipples but left a good amount of her skin bare.

If not you, then Jenna, I wrote, my breathing deepening.

Mom stared at the picture. She stared and stared, then she closed the window and shook her head. I stood, slipping my hand from her between her legs. Dampness coated my skin, more so on the side that had been deepest between my mother's legs. My cock stood straight out from my shorts. I looked to Dad, and from my higher angle, I could see that he had his eyelids closed. Opportunity missed. Before I could step away, Mom tugged on the leg of my shorts. She tugged hard, and after a second tug, I sat down next to her. Mom sighed, and she spread her legs open... for me.

As I sat, Mom turned my tablet back on. This time she wrote, Do not masturbate in front of me.

Under my shorts? I asked.

Mom tilted her head to the right, her eyes rolling in the same direction. I palmed my knob with my left hand, pushing down on my head. A buzzing, pleasure-filled cloud swirled around my glans before shooting straight down my shaft, forcing my ass to tighten and my hips to rise. Mom turned the tablet off and placed it on the end table next to her. She faced forward, her eyes on the TV, then looking at Dad, who seemed to be sleeping, and then back at the TV, waiting for me to do to her whatever I dared to do to her.

We didn't set any other boundaries, I thought. What was Mom going to do if I went too far? Yell for Dad? Run upstairs, where we could be alone? Holy shit, my thoughts were getting dark.

The moment was mine, and yet, my hand moved slowly toward her thigh. I had freedom now, and I moved with a slow, persistent pressure as if giving my mother a chance to back out. Or maybe I wanted to savor this. Maybe I was savoring this and giving my mother a chance to back out. I didn't know, but now that Mom had called my bluff, an entirely new expectation had fallen upon me. I had to perform. I had only ever touched Jenna. There had been plenty of finger-banging and pussy-eating between us, but what did my inexperience really know about Jenna's body or how to please a woman?

A real woman.

My mom?

My heartbeat thickened in my chest. Dampness chilled my palm as my pulse beat against the center of my hand. I had to perform. I had to. Performing was the only way that I was going to make my mother want my touch, instead of having to endure my touch.

I pressed my palm against my mother's thigh. Her skin seared me. My fingers pointed inward, wrapping around her limb to caress the inner meat between her legs. She had parted her thighs, and I had a narrowing V-shaped window running toward the beautiful, sun-kissed cunny that marked the prettiest portion of a woman's body.

I squeezed her thigh. Mom said nothing. I squeezed her thigh again, pulsing my digits against her limb, my rhythm slow and tender. My left palm rolled over my knob, my hips humping upward as pleasure shot through me. Would Mom touch me if I asked?

Don't push it, I thought. We've rushed this enough. Tonight is about showing her what we can do.

I slid my hand toward my mother's knee. She looked at Dad as I caressed her smooth skin. I stroked my cock faster through my shorts, keeping my fingers around the neck of my shaft and rowing my thumb over the head. Several trembling breaths left my lungs, and Mom angled her head in my direction enough that she had to be able to see me stroking my stiffy.

This was madness.

I slid my hand down her thigh, pushing inward so that my fingertips brushed the cushion between her legs, my palm resting against her skin. Down I went. Mom shivered once I passed the middle of her thigh. A warm cloud of mist seemed to greet the side of my hand closest to her muff, dampening my flesh and urging my little finger to stretch outward as far as possible, stopping less than an inch from her satin-covered crotch.

A blurred, wobbling lightness hammered the inside of my skull. I moved back up Mom's thighs, and she breathed easier. I moved back down, and her next inhale turned heavy. I glanced at the front of her shirt, where her rock-hard nipples poked at the fabric, threatening to rip through the threads. They stuck outward, thick and hard, like Jennifer Anniston's nipples on nearly every episode of Friends.

I moved lower than before, forcing Mom to spread her legs further apart as my knuckles grazed the inner meat of her right thigh. She wiggled her butt, but she had nowhere to run. My pinky extended again, riding her damp flesh and teasing the leghole of her boyshorts. Her left hand twitched, so I pulled my hand up her leg and caressed the middle of her thigh, squeezing and feeling the smooth firmness of my mother's skin.

I continued stroking my cock and working the precum from my balls. Each spurt of crystal-clear jizz reminded my cock that there was soft treasure between my mother's thighs. I had come from those folds, saying hello to the world by spreading her open, and now I wanted to go back and spread her open again, but instead of emptying her pink channel of life, I wanted to fill it with my own once more.

My balls shivered, and I almost came to my sick, perverse, and cock-hardening desires. I was going to have my mother one day; before the end of this, and maybe, one day, Jenna and her both.

At the same time, my cock said as a jolt of pleasure pushed a moan from my lips.

"Shhhhh," Mom hissed, moving her right arm from the armrest and slapping my hand between her legs.

Something about that movement reminded me of the girls in porn, spanking their hairless beavers before their costars punched their cocks into their pussies. I had to bite back another moan, but as I did, I opened my little finger as far as I could and entered the leghole of Mom's shorts, touching the crease where her outer pussy lip met the inside of her thigh.

Mom answered my touch with a sharp inhale of breath. She looked down. The hand that had slapped mine now rested on my forearm. She tried to push me back up her thigh, but I held firm, staring down between her legs and shaking my head.

Mom pushed again on my arm.

I shook my head harder.

Mom's thighs started to close. I didn't mind, she'd only trap me between them, but as her legs clamped down on my hand, I brushed my little finger against the side of my mother's warm pussy bulge. A silk-like mesh greeted my digit, but my fingertip caught the leg band of her panties and pushed under the nylon, touching skin so hot that I was surprised my finger didn't melt.

She's so fucking wet, I thought as my little finger pushed the moisture covering her mound across her skin, following the edge of her panty line.

Mom pushed harder on my wrist. I turned my head toward Dad with a sharp twist of my chin. Mom's hand froze as she looked at Dad. I pushed hard between her thighs, my ring finger colliding with the pillow-like softness at the center of her muff and my little finger slipping into the crux of her thigh.

Dad didn't move, continuing to breathe with the mellow tempo of a man who was sound asleep. I stroked my cock harder. Could I get away with this while he was awake? He couldn't see us from where he was. My heartbeat hammered against the inside my chest, and my feet tingled as I thought of my father watching TV while I felt up his wife on the couch behind him.

Mom pushed on my wrist again. I held myself firm, fighting her resistance and sinking the side of my ring finger into her pussy's tender folds. Mom arched her back, pushing her titties and thick nipples outward, and I wiggled my little finger, slipping two knuckles beneath her panties. She uttered a soft whimper as my digit slid against her mound. Her pubic hairs feathered my skin, the strands softer and fuller than the finest threads of silk.

"Mark," Mom whispered.

I didn't answer her. Instead, I sawed my hand through my mom's thighs, up and down, doing my best to get my finger sandwiched between her folds while hoping that I'd rub her clit with my motions. It's not like I hadn't touched a pussy before. I had Jenna, and we had practiced often, and as Mom continued the pressure against my wrist with her hand, she added a new pressure, on purpose or by accident, I didn't know, but I felt the thrust of her hips against me as if trying to dislodge my fingers.

"Stop," Mom whispered.

"No," I whispered back, my voice lower and more forceful than hers.

"Please?"

I pushed harder against her pussy as I ran my little finger across her damp pubic hairs.

"I could always go to Jenna," I said.

Mom made a frustrated sound. "Your father could wake up."

"He's not going to." Mom hadn't sounded like she believed that either. "He took his pill."

Mom pushed harder against the side of my hand. She dug her heels into the base of the couch and pushed her hips hard against me. I was on an upward slide, and as our movements collided, Mom released a ragged breath that sounded like a muted whimper. I pushed down with unstoppable determination, trying to use the same path as before, and Mom's next breath trembled. I did it again, and Mom closed her eyes and turned her face sharply to the right, her nostrils flaring, their sound reaching my ears.

Again I pushed my hand through her thighs, rubbing her pussy hard. I swore I felt the dampness of her muff soaking her satin boyshorts. My pinky finger, still against her mound, was as slippery as my fingers got whenever I dipped them into Jenna's pink well, but not as sticky--yet.

"Hurry up and come," Mom mumbled through her clenched teeth, her voice breaking. "Finish this."

I squeezed my knob. I wanted to come--god, how I wanted to come--but how much better would the next time be if I made my mother come with me? I wanted--no--I needed her teasing to be something she wanted to do, not something she felt that she had to do.

Uttering a moan, I pulled my hand from between Mom's leg, and for the briefest of moments, I had to pull against her resistance as she pressed her pussy against my hand one more time. Mom let go of me, her fingers springing open and her legs spreading wide as if electrified. Her eyes opened as she turned her head toward me. I slid away from her a little, just a little, not much, and I bent forward, sliding my right arm under her knees, lifting, and swinging her legs toward me. Mom spun on her butt as I brought her knees up and sat her feet next to me on the couch. Her toes touched my thigh as she leaned against the couch's armrest. I pulled my arm from beneath her knees and pushed my hands between her shins, forcing her left leg against the back of the couch and her right toward the cushion's edge.

"What are you doing?" Mom hissed at me as the light bathed her in shades of silver and blue.

"Touching you," I whispered, looking into her eyes as I placed my palm on the inner meat of her right leg.

Mom swallowed as I pushed my hand down her thigh. The loose leghole of her shorts lay in a wave, the peak giving my fingers access into her shorts. I pushed inside. Mom inhaled deeply as my fingers made contact with the crux of her thigh and swept inward, following the slope of her skin until I had fully cupped the wet heat between her legs. Mom's breath caught, and she turned her wide eyes to the right, staring at the TV as her next breath trembled and a tremor ran through her body.

I held my mother's creamy, hot pussy in my palm for several moments. The warmth between her legs sent squiggly rays of pleasure through my arm. My knob swelled, and a soft buzzing massaged my balls, forcing my sack to constrict and my asshole to clench.

"Mark," Mom said in a low, shaky voice.

I squeezed her pussy, holding her wetness in the palm of my hand.

Mom sighed, pinching her eyes shut as a frustrated, puppy-like whine left her lungs.

My father lay still--still sleeping, still dreaming--unaware of what I was doing to my mother or the new, floral pussy scent that pollinated the room.

I released my mother's snatch. Her breasts rose and fell in rapid motions, and when I squeezed her pussy meat again, they swelled upward as she sucked in her breath. Her silky panties lay matted to my palm, soaked through and sticky to the touch. The triangle protecting her pussy folds was thin and narrow, allowing my fingers to press against the exposed flesh of her outer lips. My middle finger was long enough to rest against her slit and then some, the tip settling against the dental floss covering her asshole. Mom jumped when I touched her back there, and she jumped again, pushing her pussy against my hand when I applied the slightest bit of pressure against the oven-hot crinkle of her rosebud.

"You," Mom said, pausing as I squeezed her pussy again, "have to stop."

"I can't," I said, speaking as low as she had. "I need this. I'm eighteen. I'm horny, and you've made my dick so fucking hard."

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"Then hurry up and come."

I wanted to do so much more to her, but the crown of my cock was a knot of tingling nerve-endings whose need for release had spilled into my thighs. I felt as though I were floating, carried on a prickling cloud that had hollowed out my insides with soul-shaking adrenaline.

"I'll come later," I whispered, almost panting, my words hurting my throat. "But you're gonna come now."

Mom opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, I pushed aside the gusset of her panties, and the tips of my middle and forefinger found her clit on the first try. Her mouth opened, but no sound left her lips. Her face tightened, tensing into a moment of pleasure with her eyes narrowing and her lips puckering. The muscles in her neck went taut. My fingers slid through the dewy crease of her pussy, pushing against the pink flesh behind her lips and above her hole, and then my fingers sank into her muffin as they followed that line downward.

"Uh," Mom moaned from the back of her throat, surprise and shock painted on her face.

My digits followed the curving of her inner channel. I didn't go deep. Instead, I hooked my fingers through her wetness, pressing the tips against the underside of her mound as my thumb continued forward and wiggled between the thickness of her upper cunny lips. I knew I was beneath my mother's clit, and I pushed my thumb higher in a hurry. I didn't stop until my mother's body jumped as if electrified, and she uttered another moan through her trembling lips.

"That's it, Mom," I whispered in a rush. "Just let me touch you, and I'll stay away from Jenna."

Mom didn't move. Had Jenna's name caused her to freeze in place? Or was it because I had two fingers inside of her pussy, my thumb on her clit, and my ring finger pressing into the crack of her ass while my pink finger rested along the bottom of her right cheek? I didn't know, but I wasn't about to ask.

Please, God, help me make my mother come, I prayed, and then I started moving my fingers between the squishiness of her pink, maternal walls.

"Uh-oh," Mom whisper-moaned, her face struggling with defiance.

I had my palm upward with my fingers adapting to the curve of her inner channel; the wet and rubbery pinkness of her hidden flesh was soft to the touch. Soft and tight, squeezing me with ridged muscles and a deeper strength I hadn't anticipated. Jenna's pussy had never done that, but the word control floated through my mind. Mom was a woman who knew how to use her pussy to her advantage.

I stared at her face as I curled and uncurled my fingers across the underside of my mother's mound. Her G-spot, so the pornstars said. So the internet said. So Jenna said while whimpering and holding back tears while I stroked her cunny to orgasm.

I didn't move my fingers fast or slow. I caressed my mother's insides with methodical pressure and used the same rhythm to thumb my mother's clit. Her squishy pearl rolled smoothly between the upper portions of her outer lips, where the pussy meat was thick and tender and perfect for squeezing around my mother's clitoral hood. I bit back a moan. I couldn't strip my mother naked right now and squeeze her pussy lips together, hugging her clit with her clam's outer shell no matter how much I wanted to. Next time, I told myself, next time. I had so many plans for my mother's body that it was almost impossible to think straight.

As I soaked my fingers between Mom's lips, her face betrayed the pleasure coursing through her maternal core. She had bitten her lower lip, and with each turn of her clit and massage of her insides, her chin twitched to the left or right, her eyes narrowing and her brows spasming. From her pussy came a messy amount of honey-thick nectar, staining my hand and her shorts, ruining her panties, and wetting her ass crack and butthole.

I moaned.

"Shh," Mom hissed, turning her head over her right shoulder as far as she could. Her eyes opened, and she shivered as I pressed down on her love button. Her hips shot upward, and her thighs opened and closed, squeezing my hand, then releasing it, then squeezing it. The scent of her sweet musk filled my nostrils and probably the whole damn living room. I breathed it in deeply as my left hand pushed its way under my shorts without permission and grabbed hold of the stiffest cock I had ever had in my life.

Holy shit, but I needed to get this big son-of-a-bitch into my mother--but not tonight. I wanted to cry as that thought hit me, but I wanted to come even more, so I started stroking my member faster while working my mother's juicy muff harder and rubbing her clitty at a quicker pace.

The faster I rubbed my precum-slick prick, the harder I worked my mother's pussy, matching the rhythms of my hands together. As I synchronized their movements, Mom's and my pleasure seemed to intertwine. Every time I suppressed a moan, my mother did the same. She looked at me with a kind of helplessness that made my balls beg for mercy.

Within minutes of touching myself, her jaw trembled, and her head started to nod as if urging me onward. She puckered her lips, her face tightening as my cock swelled in anticipation of my orgasm. As my pleasure swirled along my glans' corona, Mom's pussy channel constricted, and she raised her left palm to her mouth. A look of shame, and surprise, filled her eyes as her pussy turned into a creamy mess across my fingers.

She's gonna come. She's gonna come. She's gonna--

Mom shook her head, at herself or me, I don't know, but she twisted the hand covering her mouth and bit the crescent line of flesh running from her thumb to her forefinger. Her pussy clamped down on my fingers, and Mom closed her knees and feet, trapping my hand between her sweaty thighs, keeping my fingers lodged inside of her as her ass lifted from the couch, bucking her pussy at my probing digits and pearl-polishing thumb. Cum drenched my fingers. Thick and hot, it poured from her, wetting everything it touched and branding the fabric of her panties, shorts, and the couch, with her strawberry fragrance. When her whimpers escaped her fingers, and she brought her right hand up to help cover her mouth, and I lost control.

My cock stiffened along its underside, bending upward and back as my thighs tensed and my ass cheeks clenched. The pressure in my balls released, shooting up and around and then through my cock, filling my shaft with cum before it exploded into my shorts.

"Mom, Mom, Mom," I whisper-moaned, trembling and pushing my hips forward as thick blasts of jizzed ruined my jockeys and wet my fingers. My moans continued, riding the wispy strands of my breath, impossible for anyone but my mother or myself to hear. I pushed my fingers hard into my mother's cunny, straightening them and mashing my knuckles against her pussyhole, my thumb sliding up her clitoral hood and over her pubic hairs, my fingers clamping onto her pubic bone as though I owned her. I fought for depth inside of her channel, and when a low moan escaped my mother's lungs, the sound was sexy enough to force one last aftershock of cum to shake my system, emptying my balls of every ounce of jizz they held.

"Thank you," I panted after a minute of silence, "for letting me touch you, Mom."

"Take your fingers out of me," Mom said, her voice stern. "And go to your room."

I didn't argue. I didn't speak. I nodded my head, slid my fingers from my mother, and hurried upstairs, not even sparing Mom another look. I left my tablet behind, but I didn't care at the moment. I went upstairs to my room, where I licked my mother's sweetness off my fingers. My saliva glands erupted, my tongue tingled. I had never tasted anything so smooth and creamy before. I had to get my mouth between her legs next time.

Would there even be a next time?

Fuck, yes, there would be.

An hour later, I went downstairs to get my tablet. I walked through the dark hallway, reached the top of the stair, and witnessed the silvery-blue light from the TV as it tried to break the foyer's curtain of darkness. At the top of the stairs, I heard the sounds of low, heavy panting, and the faint plop, plop, plop, of flesh smacking flesh. Crouching and taking my time, I slid-walked down the stairs far enough to see into the living, and what I saw hardened my cock quicker than my hand ever could.

Silvery-blue light washed over my mother, who was facing away from me. My father still looked asleep, but how he remained asleep, even with his pills, was beyond anything the medical world could have explained to me. Mom sat astride him, her boyshorts missing from her body, though I couldn't make out any details since the light only hit her from the front.

She was a black specter, a shadow, a nymph made of nighttime sin, and everything tantalizing about the forbidden. Her ass moved up and down as she rode my father reverse cowgirl style, pumping her pussy on the length of his cock. His breath left his lungs in rough pulses, but he was far from awake. Unable to help myself, I pulled my cock out and jerked off for the next ten minutes, watching the shadow of my mother ride my father and wishing I could join them.

After I came, I watched my mother use my father's cock until she threw back her head and moaned, filling the downstairs with the sounds of her orgasm. Dad woke up then. He said something, but it was low and muffled; sleepy, but I recognized his mumbling, and then Mom laughed and said, "If you can stay awake..."

I smiled as I went back to my room, thinking that in a perfect world, my father would be willing to share my mother with me. Who knew if he ever would, but I needed my sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, and I had plans for my mother.

Nasty--naughty--plans.

Gradual Acceptance

I woke at seven in the morning to the sound of Jenna's ringtone playing to the side of me--Shake It Off, by Taylor Swift. Jenna had programmed it for me, and it always made me laugh. It made my friends laugh, too, the fuckers.

"Good morning," I said after grabbing my phone and swiping the call button.

"Morning, baby," Jenna said. "Did I wake you? It sounds like I woke you."

"You did, but I wanted to get up early."

"Then, you're welcome." She laughed a sneaky sound. "You got that morning wood for me?"

"Always," I said, stretching different parts of my body and twisting my hips from side to side.

"I remember the first time I felt your morning wood," Jenna whispered. "Sleeping at Alice's, after her party, with your dick pressing into my ass." She made a hungry sound. "That was the first time I ever felt a hard cock against me. I felt it all night long while we slept."

"Keep talking," I whispered.

Jenna laughed. "I would, but I have to go to school soon. Summer school should be from nine to one."

"Should be."

"Guess what I did last night?"

"I thought that you were in a hurry?" I asked, laughing.

"Shut up," Jenna said. "I did what you suggested." Before I could say anything, she added, "I teased my dad!"

"Holy shit." I thought that she'd do it, but not so damn soon. "Tell me about it."

"Holy shit is right," Jenna said. "After we had finished talking last night, I changed into one of my cropped, pink, cotton tank camisoles--"

"What?"

"God, Mark," Jenna said. "You're eighteen." She laughed. "It's an undershirt held up by straps and made of cotton, nylon, or satin that women wear to sleep. Look it up."

I laughed.

"I changed into a tight-fitting top with little shoulder straps, but it was so tight on me that it could have been a bandeau." I didn't even ask what that was. "I was super nipply. My girls were sticking up large and hard. You know how thick and tight they can get."

"Mmm, I do," I sighed. "I miss them."

"Whose fault is that?"

"My mom's," I said.

"Shut up," Jenna said, laughing. "So, I changed into one of those without a bra and some matching pink boyshorts. I rolled the waistline down so I could show off the cut of my hips because I know you love that."

I pictured Jenna's hard stomach and long muscles covered by a single layer of feminine softness. My cock twitched, but I didn't touch it. Not this morning. Not before I saw my mother.

"My shorts were loose, I couldn't show off my C-toe, but I'm saving that precious gem for another day." Jenna then said something to someone else, the sound of her voice faint through the speaker, as though she had pulled the phone away from her lips. "I got to go. It's probably for the best because I'm getting so fucking wet thinking about last night, and I don't want to sit in class with sloppy panties."

"Bring another pair to school," I said.

"I only bring an extra pair when we're together."

"Sexy," I said. "Oh, wait! What happened with your dad?"

"Really quick," Jenna said. "I think I made my dad uncomfortable, but I felt his eyes on me before he left the living room to go upstairs. Dad never goes to bed earlier, but he did last night. I have to go. See you today?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'll see you sometime in the evening after I reassure my mom that nothing will happen between us."

"Yeah, right," Jenna whispered, giggling. "Nothing but some coming. Bye. Love you."

"Love you, too," I said, then added, "Oh, wait!"

"What, baby?" Jenna pouted. "I've got to go."

"If my mom brings up our naughty pictures, you have to tell her that you deleted them."

Jenna made an annoyed, clicking sound, but she said, "Fine, but I don't like lying to your mother. She's going to be my mother-in-law one day."

Yikes.

"Thanks, baby," I said. "Love you again. Bye."

I disconnected the call, thinking about my words for the next half hour. Love you. If I loved her, then why was I willing to fool around with my mother?

But Mom's the first woman you loved.

Was that my mind, heart, or cock whispering those words of wisdom to me? Logic versus feelings versus horniness--along with a little bit of truth from each of them. Jenna had been my neighbor for my entire life. Our parents had babysat us, and Jenna had been just a little brat until the day she wasn't. Until the I noticed her tits. (That's a good reason to fall in love.) But, I did love Jenna, yet I had never dated anyone else, either.

I picked up my phone and spoke to the voice command, asking, "Mr. Internet: Is it okay for a man to justify cheating on the woman he loves?"

The clock on my phone said it was ten minutes until eight, so I killed the search before it had a chance to answer me, and I left my room for a shower. I didn't need a shitty AI telling me that I was a terrible person. I finished showering after eight and dressed in a pair of basketball shorts with my boxer briefs beneath and a tight shirt. I had my phone in my left hand, ready to take some pictures and videos of my mother before I attempted to do a whole lot more.

I half-trotted downstairs, my muscles were loose, and my steps were light. I didn't see Mom in the living room, though the dark curtains were open, while the transparent curtains remained shut. I peeked into the seldom-used great room, and it was empty as well, so I spun on my heels and walked down the hallway that led straight into the kitchen. Halfway there, I heard the faint sounds of French music, the kind that deserved playtime on an old phonograph. I didn't know French, but my mother did, and I knew she listened to those songs whenever she needed some relaxation in her life. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

When I exited the shortcut hallway and stepped into the kitchen, I saw Mom in the same position as I had seen her yesterday morning. She sat at the breakfast table with the light streaming into the house through the breakfast area's swinging glass doors. Mom had the morning paper in her left hand, which tilted her body away from me, but not much.

She didn't look at me, and her right arm lay curled around her waist. She wore an off-the-shoulder, rib-knit, long-sleeved T-shirt that was violet in color and seemed to make her flaxen hair brighter. Her elf-queen profile looked sharp this morning, and she was wearing makeup that highlighted the regalness of her features. She sat with her legs crossed, her right over her left, the hem of her shirt barely covering the tops of her thighs while revealing the entire side of her leg and the cheek of her ass to me. Whatever she thought about last night, it hadn't stopped her from wearing a G-string this morning.

That had to be a good sign.

It had to be.

"Good morning," I said as I entered the kitchen and walked behind the kitchen island, ignoring the fridge and leaning against the island's marble top.

"Good morning," Mom said, not looking up at me.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"I had a good time last night." I placed my phone in front of me, sliding my right forefinger across the screen and selecting the camera icon. "A real good time."

"I'm sure you did," Mom said, her voice sounding measured and controlled, her breathing deepening as she spoke.

"You didn't?" I asked as a tingling sensation rode the length of my shaft.

"I'm keeping you out of trouble," Mom said. "How I feel about last night doesn't matter."

"I liked it, just saying," I said, matching my tone to my mother's, then uttering a sigh that made my mother roll her eyes. I smiled. "You didn't like it just a little bit?"

Mom tightened her lips and tilted her head further to the left. Was she smiling? Could I guilt her into a smile, the way I had when I was younger? She must have liked it, or else she'd be wearing pants today.

"You know," I said, elongating those two words, "if we could keep last night going, I think--I'm not promising anything--but I think I could stay away from Jenna--sexually--until we were sure we were responsible enough to handle sex."

"You think you could?" Mom asked. It sounded like a question, despite her flat delivery. She uncrossed her legs, and her thighs rubbed together in the smallest of movements possible. "I think I deserve the promise of a stress-free month for what I was willing to do for you last night."

My cock swelled with my mother's words. The head thickened faster than the body as the corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. "I thought staying away from Jenna last night was what I was doing for you," I said as my member filled up my shorts.

"Promise me a stress-free month," Mom said.

"I'll promise you a stress-free month," I said, "as long as you keep my mind off Jenna."

Mom waited and waited with the newspaper held in front of her. Was she thinking? Was she reading? Was she toying with me? Teasing me? My skin tingled as I waited for her answer.

"Did you want to take some pictures of me?" Mom asked. "Before I go upstairs to work?"

"Yeah," I said, licking my lips. "I do. Something like... last night?"

"Come on," Mom said. "Let's go to the living room and remember that I'm still your mother."

I nodded my head as my mother stood. Her rib-knit shirt barely covered the bottom cleft of her pussy, which left a whole lot of leg exposed to my eyes. As she passed me, I turned my body along the path of my gaze. Mom didn't look in my direction, so she didn't see my erection tenting my shorts, nor did she see my cock jerk when I saw that her shirt didn't quite cover the bottom of her ass cheeks. As Mom left the kitchen, I followed her to the living room, where she walked to our couch and sat down in the exact spot she had sat last night.

"How would you like me to pose?" Mom asked, adjusting the hem of her shirt, though sitting as she was, it could barely cover her lap, and again, it left her left leg bare to the upward curve of her butt.

I sat down on the opposite end of the couch. How did I want her to pose? With her legs spread and her panties stretched between her knees while she reached down and spread her pink petals wide enough for me to see the inside of her motherly channel. (Lately... I may have been watching too much porn with a little too much blonde pussy gaping.) I wanted to get down to business, but instead...

Page 11 - A Mother's Worry - Incest/Taboo

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"Just like that for the first couple of pictures," I said.

Mom sat still, facing forward with her hands in her lap. I snapped a picture, making sure to capture all of her. I couldn't see her nipples through the thickness of her shirt, but I imagined them to be puckered tightly and as hard as diamonds. I took another picture, zooming in on the exposed side of her ass, cropping her upper body out of the picture. I could show my friends that picture one day, and they'd never know...

The thought of bragging about my mother to my friends without them knowing who I was talking about sent a chill through my cock and a buzzing through the soles of my feet that curled my toes. I liked it when my friends checked out Jenna. I liked knowing I had someone they could never have. Another chill went through me, turning my nipples sensitive, and I scratched my chest, the prickling sensations causing me to shiver.

I looked up from my phone's viewer and looked at my mother. "Mom," I said, "can you turn on the couch and face me, like last night." My heart sped up. Not as hard as it would have before last night's finger session, but hard enough to make my body tingle and my blood rush. "You can keep your legs together... for the first few pictures."

Mom looked at me. I saw defiance in her eyes, but she wore an expression of bratty sullenness that I found adorable. She did as I told her to do, lifting her feet and turning toward me, keeping her knees and feet together, so her shins created a wall that hid her pussy from me. I snapped several pictures, and though Mom dropped her eyes from me and looked toward the back of the couch, I didn't think that she was mad at me. Her eyes appeared to be looking inward as if contemplating some inner turmoil that was too terrible to ignore. (That may have sounded dramatic, but I needed to believe that Mom's desire for me was as strong as my desire for her.)

Fight your conscience, Mom. Fight it.

I snapped more pictures, saying, "Turn your eyes toward me," as I did.

Mom did as I told her to do. Her eyes looked big, with an accusing light that made my cock harder as the pressure in my balls grew stronger. My sack constricted. Was this turning Mom on as well? Was her conscience fighting the sexiness of this moment? Was it easier for me because I had been a child growing up and adoring a grown woman while Mom had been a grown woman adoring a child who had become a man, with manly desires? The weight of that on her conscious would have crushed most people, but here was my mother, who had let me jerk off on her yesterday morning and who had let me finger her last night--I doubt there was anyone in the world who could have understood her mind at that moment.

"You're beautiful," I said in a near whisper. "Thank you for this."

I snapped a picture, then another, smiling, and a small, soft smile appeared on my mother's lips as I looked down at my phone's screen. When I raised my eyes, her smile vanished, replaced by a sullen, resentful half-glare.

"Spread your knees for me, Mom," I said, moving closer to her. "The way Jenna wants to spread her thighs for me, but I'm resisting her because I have you to look at."

Mom tilted her head, her eyes widening and her mouth tightening.

"Where's my tablet?" I asked, looking around the living room. "I still need to delete her pictures."

"It's in my room," Mom said. "I was going to remind you to do that."

"Spreading your legs for me is reminder enough," I said, my voice wavering as my breathing deepened. A harsh, swirling tingle circled my knob and glans, and I shuddered as precum escaped the tip of my cock. "Can you lift your shirt above your panties for me, too?"

Mom's cheeks sucked inward, and she narrowed her eyes. After a deep breath, her face softened, and she slowly spread her knees open, followed by moving her feet apart. A sun-golden hallway of smooth, semi-muscled thighs pointed the way down to the V of her crotch. She was wearing snow-white panties that seemed extra bright against her tan skin. As her shirt continued to her waistlines, Mom's straw-light pubes came into view, and I drooled at the smallness of her panties. They barely covered her outer pussy lips, but they were also transparent, allowing me to see everything between my mother's thighs: mound, clitoral hood, her little jewel, and her tight slit.

I swallowed, saying, "Thank you, Mom, for dressing this way for me." I licked my lips, not because I didn't know what to say, but because my cock was near to bursting, and my mouth wanted to dive between my mother's legs without asking for permission. "I don't know any other mom who cares this much about their son."

Mom stared at me, looking me in the eyes. Her lips trembled, then they spread into a soft, almost pleased, smile before returning to the straight-lined pout that they had held a second ago.

The transparency of my mother's panties ended at her perineum, turning into a string that I could have used for dental floss. I could see the rim of her asshole on either side of that string. Fuck, I wanted to rim her forbidden pucker. Mom's left knee hit the back of the couch while her right knee hovered over the floor beyond the edge of the cushion. She turned her feet onto their outer edges, bringing them together, and she sat with her legs resembling a wide-open bear trap that needed springing.

The urge to rush between my mother's thighs rumbled through my body. I wanted to lunge forward. I needed to. For a moment, the world swooned, and it seemed as if nothing could stop me from moving between my mother's legs and taking what I wanted. My vision narrowed, focusing on the visible flesh beneath my mother's panties, and as the primal desire to take what I wanted settled over me, my mother's voice cut through my near loss of control, bringing me back to reality.

"Take the picture," Mom whispered, her voice thick and husky. "I need to get to work."

I raised my camera, pointing it right between my mother's legs. I looked at her muff, the meat of her pussy squished and contained beneath her too-tight panties, then I looked at the viewscreen, then back at my mother. Snap. I lowered my phone, stared between my mother's legs, then raised the camera again and snapped several more pictures. I took my time, looking, not looking, listening as my mother's breathing grew deeper, and the mesh fabric centered over her slit dampened to a darker color against her pussyhole.

A deep groan escaped my lips when the first of Mom's juices became visible to my eyes.

"Mark," Mom whispered. "Don't be vulgar."

"I can't help it," I whispered. "Yours is the"--I paused, trying to will my mental bravado to the surface--"your"--I swallowed--"your pussy is the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"Mark" Mom said in a gentle tone, "thank you."

I snapped another picture, then zoomed in between her legs and snapped another. My cock hurt, the shaft aching, and the tip alive with an energy that kept my precum flowing. I reached out with my left hand, holding my phone with my right hand.

"Mark," Mom sighed, warning me with her tone. "Mark, Mark... Mark." She closed her lips when I placed my hand on the inside of her right knee, the sound of my name fading away to nothing.

My fingers made the journey down Mom's thigh, stopping to absorb their outer softness and inner firmness. The further down my mother's leg I went, the warmer my hand grew. When my fingertips brushed the softest meat of her inner thigh, right before the dip leading into the hollow between her leg and outer labia, Mom shivered and placed a hand over mine. She stopped my fingertips an inch away from her panties. As I held my hand against her, I swear I saw her pussy pulse as if swelled by the excitement or the desire coursing through her in the same way I could flex my cock whenever I chose. Whether it was my imagination or not, I believed that I had just seen her cunny reaching outward for my touch.

"Mom," I said, my voice sounding far away to my ears. "Your pussy would be even prettier if you weren't wearing your panties."

Mom's next breath trembled as she pulled air into her lungs.

"Please?" I curled my fingers, rubbing the tips over Mom's sensitive flesh. "Seeing wouldn't be the same as touching." I looked up at her. She had her eyes locked on my hand, but she must have felt me staring because she raised her gaze to meet mine. "I was going to see Jenna today, but I don't have to."

"You can see Jenna," Mom whispered. "You just can't do anything sexual with her."

"Then I won't do anything sexual with her," I said, "if you help me with those urges."

Mom closed her eyes.

I pushed my hand forward, dragging her hand along for the ride. My fingertips met the leg band of her panties, and her pussy seemed to swell towards my digits. The dew between her lips had pasted her panties to the softness of her muff, and her pussy looked eager and desperate for my attention.

"Keep your eyes closed," I said as gently as I could. "I'm going to take your panties off you... and keep them for myself."

I had no idea that I was going to say that.

Mom trembled.

She visibly trembled.

"Okay," Mom whispered, keeping her hand on mine.

I set my phone on the back of the couch. Mom kept her eyes closed, but when I placed my right hand on the inside of her left thigh, she placed her left hand over mine. I moved down her flesh, welcomed by her heat and the guidance she offered me. My fingertips moved between her legs, my eyes following, and my mouth watering as I took in the bottom of her cheeks, her little, string-covered asshole and the triangle of her labia draped in transparent silk.

My fingertips connected with the outer nylon band of her panties, then moved upward, using the fabric as a pathway to her waistband. As my finger moved upward, my thumbs followed behind, and I pressed against the outer edges of my mother's thicker pussy lips, squeezing their softness gently and puffing them outward against the crotch of her panties.

Mom released a surprised whine, her palms pressing against the backs of my hands.

A low, feral growl rumbled through my chest and into my throat.

My thumbs continued to follow my fingers, only they pushed against the outer edge of Mom's panties, touching damp skin and slipping half an inch beneath them. The heat from my mother's labia and mound seared my skin, and a cloud-like tingling surrounded my balls. My knob came to life with extra-sensory perceptions, and I had to pull my thumbs from my mother's panties before I wasted my morning nut in my shorts.

I brushed the waistband of Mom's panties. The elastic dug into her skin, creating tender bulges of flesh around the band. I plucked at the nylon as though they were harp strings, and Mom moved her palms back and forth across my hands. Her breathing had quieted, but it was still ragged, and as I curled my fingertips beneath the elastic, Mom's breath caught. I pulled downward. Her hands pressed hard into mine, then nodding, as though to herself, she eased the pressure against me and released her breath.

I tugged her panties downward. Sitting as she was, it was impossible to get them off her body. Mom brought her knees together. I maneuvered my arms up and outside of her legs, not once breaking contact with her G-string. With my arms outside of her legs, she seemed so small to me. So easy to take from. So easy to have. I pulled her panties down her hips and around her ass. Mom had to lift her butt from the cushion before I could slide them around the bottom of her butt and pull them up her legs to her knees, where up and over and down toward her feet they went. The micro-string that had been resting in the crack of her ass was now riding her shins, sputtering down her legs until I had her panties around her ankles.

"Step out of your panties, Mom."

Mom did as I told her to do. Lifting her small left foot first, then her right, and setting them back down the moment I pulled her panties out from under her. I set them by her phone, her pussy scent drifting toward my nostrils and blooming within my nose. My cock thickened, and I fought the urge to grab my cock and jerk it until I was coming on my mother's feet.

"Thank you, Mom," I said, placing my hands on her ankles and sliding them around the sides of her calves and up to her knees, where I rested my palms flat against her. "I'm just going to spread you open, okay?"

Mom nodded.

I paused with my hands on her knees and asked, "Okay, Mom?"

Mom waited several seconds before she said, "Okay, Mark."

"Okay, what, Mom?" My heart thundered. "Okay, what?"

"Okay," Mom whispered, "you can spread me open."

See, my cock said, Mom just needed a bit of urging. Do you think Dad tells her what to do?

I ignored my dick as I spread my mother's knees to the sides. She kept the soles of her feet together. It felt as if I were spreading open the halves of a sandwich to discover what kind of meat lay inside. Mom's inner lips were barely protruding from her outer lips, forming a lickable crescent of wet flesh coated in a glistening layer of sticky dew. The jewel of her clit had popped outward, small and shiny, like a smooth pearl, while her clitoral hood had thickened with lust, pushing out from between the upper swells of her outer lips. Above, her sexy, sun-kissed pubic hairs formed a thick but narrow landing strip that I wanted to cover in my cum.

"Mom," I whispered, my breathing as heavy as my heartbeat, "you're so beautiful between your thighs."

An odd sound escaped my mother's lips, sounding like a half-sob. I raised my eyes to her face and saw that she was trembling. Her lips, her eyes, and her expression twitched in a mixture of shame and rosy-cheeked desire. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to slide my tongue against her lips and into her mouth, where she'd be hot and wet, as wet as the beautiful cleft between her thighs, where came a heavenly perfume that thickened my member and ignited my desires.

"Mom," I said, "I need to touch you again. I need to press my lips against you, or Jenna's virginity won't be safe from my cock."

"Mark," Mom panted, "the things you're saying to me..."

I know, I thought. I don't know where these words are coming from either.

"Do you want me to stop saying them?" I asked.

Mom didn't speak, but eventually--and it was a long, cock-throbbing eventually--she shook her head from left to right and back again, several times. They were small movements, maybe an inch in either direction, but she did shake her head. She couldn't look at me. From the corner of her left eye, a single, perfect teardrop fell.

It was a storybook tear.

A happy ending tear.

My heart slowed.

My mother was mine.

"Do you like my words?" I asked, my cock throbbing and my knob torturing me as my briefs rubbed against its sensitive surface.

Mom's face tightened, and another tear fell, but she nodded her head, and again, her movements didn't travel far.

"Mom," I said, "stand up and face away from me." I squeezed her knees. "And keep your shirt above your waist."

Mom nodded.

She swung her legs from the couch, my hands staying in contact with her skin for as long as they could. She faced away from me, standing in front of me as I had told her to do. Her off-the-shoulder long-sleeved shirt hid her right shoulder but exposed her left, the dainty slope from behind was cute enough to nibble. Her long hair hung down to the middle of her back, longest in the center and getting shorter closer to the sides, forming a downward pointing arrowhead. She had her hands in front of her, with her shirt rolled up around her waist, exposing her perfect, pear-shaped ass. Across her waist lay the impression of her panties, their tightness leaving their mark, but they were quickly darkening back to gold.

Mom stood less than a foot away from the couch. I was near the edge, but I was also sitting back far enough to appreciate the sight before me. I loved how her small ass had some shape but was still small, far from flat, but far from the bubble butt atop Jenna's thick, athletic thighs. A shadow darkened her crack, where her cheeks pressed together, and below her ass, where her inner cheeks swept away at their base, I could lay my eyes on the golden crescent of her sex.

The heart-shaped gap between Mom's legs gave my vision complete access to her pussy. She had soft and tender outer lips, separated from her inner lips by narrow creases, and her inner lips slid out from between them. They were pink, a soft horizon-pink, with a beautiful line between them that glistened with her thick honey, a crystal-like film with highlights of white that made her yummy, little cunny shine.

Was her pink clam tasty?

The wet folds of swollen flesh between her legs had to be. I had licked her juices from my fingers last night--licked my fingers until every trace of her flavor coated the nerve endings in my mouth, leaving my taste buds shaking in pleasure and my salivary glands bubbling.

I took a deep breath.

I was about to taste my mother's pussy for the first time. Holy shit, I was about to have my mother's pussy in my mouth!

A thought came to me before I could move forward. A shocking realization that made my insides warm until my cheeks turned hot. My mother and my father had been high school sweethearts. They had been junior high sweethearts. Mom had only ever let one man touch her before giving me that same pleasure. My heart trembled as I raised my hands to my mother's hips and took them in my grasp. For the rest of her life, Mom would be keeping it in the family.

Mom turned her head to the left as far as she could, tilting her head and looking down at me over her shoulder. I looked up and smiled at her, though I didn't know if she could see me. I was six inches from the top of her ass crack, my nose inhaling her floral scent. I tightened my grip on her hips, puckered my lips, and placed a single kiss above the start of her crack.

A shiver ran through my mother's body. I pulled her to me as I moved my lips lower, finding the depression of her crack and wiggling a kiss into her center groove. I kissed lower, shifting my body on the couch, giving myself enough room to taste my mother's curves. My tongue came out on its own, licking Mom's skin. It was as if I could taste her warmth. I watched small, whitish goosebumps rise across the surface of her flesh, and the finest of hairs on her body stood on end, their color so light that they could have been invisible.

"Do you?" Mom asked, her voice catching as I slid my hands below her hips and pulled them back, digging my fingers into her cheeks and pulling them apart as I laid the bottom of my tongue along her crack.

"Do I what?" I asked after I licked my way back to the top of her ass.

"Do you do this to Jenna?" Mom asked, panting, her body swooning as I move downward, stopping right above the deeper depression of her perfectly blonde, almost bleached asshole.

"Sometimes," I mumbled against her skin, turning my face in the crack of her ass and rubbing my cheeks against her butt cheeks. "She loves it, but it makes her feel funny."

I dug my fingers into Mom's ass again and pulled her cheeks as far apart as I could. My lips dipped inward, and I planted a kiss on her pucker, feeling her heat and then tasting the thicker flavor of her asshole as I pressed my tongue against her rosebud.

"Oh god," Mom gasped. I had to squeeze her thighs to keep her from falling over. "You shouldn't. Jenna's too young"--her voice squeaked as I pushed the tip of my tongue hard against her asshole--"too young for you to do this to her!"

I smiled against her ass and flicked her hole with up and down licks of my tongue. Had Mom looked through my tablet?

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"Whatever you do for me," I said, "I won't do to Jenna." I swirled my tongue around her back door, rimming her butthole until she was soaking wet with my spit.

"Oh," Mom whispered. "Oh, god, Mark."

"Reach back, Mom," I said, "and pull your ass open for me."

Mom had been looking forward again, but as her hands came back and her fingers cupped the bottoms of her cheeks, she looked over her shoulder one more time. Mom pulled her ass cheeks open for me. As her buns parted, the lips of her pussy spread as well, and I sighed.

Her inner lips were like rose petals in the sunrise, wet and dewy and sticking together. I saw her thick nectar stretch between her inner lips, as delicate as strands of webbed crystal, and they snapped, bursting into invisible teardrops that dispersed through the air.

I sighed again.

It was past time for a taste of my mother's cunny.

I dragged my right hand from Mom's thigh and over her ass. Once my palm rested squarely on her crack, I pushed upward, beneath her shirt, and to the center of my mother's back. I pushed down on her, saying, "Bend over, Mom. I can't kiss your pussy from this angle." Through her back, I felt my mother's heartbeat rise.

Still holding her cheeks open, she bent over at the waist. I slid my left hand around her thigh to her front, where I supported her hip, and I did the same with my right hand, sliding it around her right side and taking hold of her. My arms tensed as her weight pulled forward, but she was a feather in my hands. Her hair fell about her shoulders, and through her legs, which she had parted, I could see her hair hanging down to the room's wooden floorboards. I moaned as I pressed my tongue against her asshole and licked downward between my mother's cheeks.

"Fuck," Mom moaned as I tickled her rear door. She moaned again when I licked her perineum, and she gasped as I moved lower and took the bottom curve of her pussy into my mouth.

"Mmm," I sighed, straight into her gummy cunnyhole. I pushed my tongue forward, sliding easily through her soft lips and right into the pink depths of her tight insides. Sticky wetness greeted my tongue, and it was like her pussy had decided to return my kiss. Wet, hungry sounds that were beyond perverse filled the living room. The longer I kissed my mother's pussy, the louder and wetter the sounds became, and it wasn't long before my mother's knees bent down and then back up in a horny shuffle as she slid her vertical smile across my face.

I squeezed my mother's waist hard, pulling her back onto my mouth as my tongue spread her pussy lips and drew out her wetness. She didn't dance or twerk her cunny meat on my face as Jenna would have. Mom moved slowly, her thighs tensing and her calves flexing. She found a sensual rhythm as my tongue traveled the length of her slit, from the bottom of her hole to the swell of her pleasure-nub. Whenever her clit found my lips, Mom would stop moving, and I'd suck her tiny jewel into my mouth, swishing and pulling it from its hood until Mom pulled her pussy away and humped her slit across my face once more. I could have kept this up forever, but my cock had other plans.

How much of me was my mother ready to let inside of her? I was confident that she'd be willing to take my dick, but despite my craving to feel her silky heat surround my cock, I discovered that I wasn't in a rush. There was still so much more to do, but I wanted to come, and if there was one thing I had experience in, it was dry fucking Jenna until I nutted in my pants.

I leaned back, pulling Mom with me and keeping her pussy glued to my face, but I could only go back so far before her calves hit the front of the couch, stopping her short as I continued to lean into the backrest. Mom lost her balance and sat down, her butt hitting my stomach and sliding down to my cock, where she sat her pussy along the length of my shaft, pushing it against my thighs and causing an unbearable strain of pleasure to tighten my thickness.

"Uh," Mom moaned when the hardness of my prick pushed into her through my shorts.

"That's it, Mom," I whispered, pressing my lips against the exposed skin of her left shoulder. "This keeps me away from Jenna."

"Yeah," Mom panted. "It better."

I slid my hands to the tops of her thighs and pushed outward as far as I could, then I slid them between her legs with my fingers pointed down, and I spread her open. Mom moaned again, her breathing growing ragged as I pushed my hands deeper between her legs, sliding them along her inner thighs until I bracketed the triangle of her soaking wet muff between my thumbs and forefingers. The tips of my middle finger rested on her perineum while my ring and pinky fingers held the bottom, inside swells of her ass cheeks.

"Mark," Mom gasped as I squeezed her pussy lips together, puffing out her folds and squishing her clit between her cunny meat.

I squeezed her pussy several times, pushing in and pulling out, puffing her lips outward like the meat of a burger patty. I reached inward, feathering her slit and wetting my fingers, then running their tips along the length of her small crease while teasing the shallowness of her hole with soft penetrations.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," Mom whimpered, her feet settling atop of mine. She pushed down, then, and using her leverage, she ground her ass on my cock, sending bolts of pleasure through my shaft and into my balls.

After several minutes of teasing her pussy, Mom lowered her right hand to mine and pulled my fingers over her cunny, forcing me to cup her clam. She used her middle fingers to push my middle finger into her pussyhole, then she stroked my finger, guiding me in and out of her channel by feel. Her left hand found my left hand, and she pulled my fingers to her pussy as well, only now she had me settle my digits on her clit, and together, as mother and son, we masturbated her pussy while she rode the length of my cock with long strokes of her damp, naked ass.

"Oh, god," I moaned, still holding her pussy, still pressing my lips against her shoulder. I could taste her lotion and smell hints of vanilla beneath the floral thickness of her cunny's perfume.

My mother's ass made my cock tingle through my shorts. I pushed my fingers into her hole, her tightness still surprising me, and her wetness thrilled me. She had soaked my lap, and my shorts lay wetly against my knob, plastered to them as if I had spilled a bottle of scented oil over my cock. Mom's clit, a rubbery ball of tender flesh, felt thicker than before. I swished and rolled her pearl around her upper lips as I let her hands teach me how to make her pussy sing.

We played like that for some time--Mom, sitting in my lap, her feet braced against mine, her legs taut with strain while I played with her cunnyhole and rubbed her clitty, humping my cock up against her ass. Mom's moans grew louder, as did mine. Her pussy tightened, despite the cream dripping from her wet channel. My cock strained, aching, and seeking a way to tear through my shorts and push its blunt head into the beauty of my mother's softness. I nibbled her shoulder, and she hung her head as I bounced her on my lap, taking her for a gentle pony ride in the morning.

"Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god," Mom whimpered after some time had passed, the pitch of her voice rising and her fingers guiding mine over her clit, moving faster in a circular motion that gently ground her pearl against her pubic bone. "Oh, god, Mark--oh, Mark, oh!"

As she cried out my name, her entire body stiffened, and yet I could sense the energy that she was about to release through the cymbal-like vibrations running through her core. My balls tightened as her pussy walls clamped down on my fingers, and my knob swelled as the first stream of cum filled my shaft, bringing with it a river of pleasure.

Mom came--hard! She shook and trembled, her body dancing with a serpent-like wave from her head down to her toes as she ground her ass and cum-dripping pussy over my cock. My body tensed, my thighs flexing, my cock swelling. I pressed my feet against the floor and pushed my hips forward, lifting my ass and driving my cloth-covered prick into the naked wetness between my mother's legs. We came together, drenching each other in cum, our juices soaking through my shorts and staining both of our bodies.

"Mom, Mom, Mom," I whimpered as my cock continued to twitch.

"Mark, oh, Mark... Mark," Mom whined, her voice growing faint.

I tightened my grip on her pussy, and she tightened her hands over mine, holding me against her cunny as though she could brand my touch upon her sex.

Mom spoke several minutes later as she got up to leave the living room. "I'll see you again in a few hours," Mom said. "I have to go to work. Remember your promises."

"Remember yours," I called back, turning to watch Mom's butt bounce up the stairway.

Mom stopped halfway up the staircase. I had a clear view of her ass, and with her left foot on the stair above her right foot, I could see the entire divide running the length of her pussy to the top of her ass. She turned her head toward me, looking down over her bare shoulder, and she asked, "Or else you're going to Jenna?"

"Yeah," I said, but only because something in her voice drew that word from my lips.

"I guess I have no choice," Mom said, and she continued upstairs with a lighter spring in her step.

"Motherfucker," I whispered after Mom had disappeared. "Maybe I can stay away from Jenna for the next couple of years."

Sexy Blackmail

I left my mother's panties on my bed, took another shower, and went back downstairs. It was early, but I was no less horny. I spent the next two hours watching porn in the living room--I didn't bother turning down the sound. What would Mom think of that? My cock loved it, and I did something that I never thought I'd be able to do--I didn't touch myself. Instead, I stripped down naked and sat in the living room, enjoying the crisp, air-conditioned breeze. My cock felt bigger and more sensitive, and a chill danced over my skin as I imagined Mom coming downstairs and finding me naked.

Too far too soon?

I didn't know, but I had my shorts and shirt nearby, just in case. It didn't matter because sitting naked and watching porn in my mother's living made me tingle all over. I had some energy to burn, and by the time my phone buzzed with a text from Mom, my body wanted to run through walls and jump over houses.

I grabbed my phone and checked the text. Mom had sent, Can you bring an apple, a bottle of water, and a banana to my office. Thank you.

I stood, still naked, still hard, and I grabbed my shorts and pulled them on, but I left my shirt off. A little at a time. I had so much left to do with my mother; suck on her tits, a handjob, a blowjob, titty-fucking, everything I had seen in porn, and kissing. My heart swelled with that last thought. Kissing my mother would be so... forbidden. Kissing was something I could do with my mother in public, for everyone who didn't know us to see. Oh, fuck, my imagination was going to be the death of me. I jog-ran to the kitchen, collected Mom's stuff, then hurried upstairs and down the hallways to her office. I knocked on the door once before I pushed it open and stepped inside with everything--including my phone--in my hands.

The sight that greeted me forced a hungry moan from my throat. Mom had her curtains open, and sunlight shined across her naked body. She sat in her leather swivel chair, with her left leg crossed under her right--the leg closest to me--and she was leaning backward, as naked as a woman can be. Her almost small breasts drew my eyes, capped by flavorful pink nipples that deserved to be the toppings on two scoops of peach sherbet. After clicking her mouse several times, she sat back and turned her chair toward me, giving me the full view of the hairs between her legs and the upper half of her pussy. Below, the rest of her cunny rested against her leather seat.

"Thank you for bringing me my lunch," Mom said. Her eyes traveled over my upper body, lingering on my chest and abs, then dropping to my tented shorts, where she released a heavy sigh. "Did you come up here expecting more from me today?"

Mom's tone sounded rushed. Her breathing had turned heavier, and I heard the tremor of excitement in her voice, like a nervous person trying to give a speech. Her pink nipples stood thick and hard atop her tits, puckered to what had to be soreness. I wanted to suck them so much.

"Yes," I said, flexing my cock.

Mom's eyes widened, then narrowed, and she said, "May I eat my lunch first?"

"Yes." I stepped into her office to hand her her things. "I'll take pictures while I wait." As she took her food, I looked at her computer screen. She had none of her work windows open, but filling her monitor was the picture of an oiled-up, naked young man who looked around my age. He had a big, big cock--about as big as mine--and he was doing curls in a gym while a sweating MILF about Mom's age knelt in front of him. She held his balls in one hand and his rock-hard cock in the other. The caption at the bottom of the picture read Mom Son: Pumping Iron, and there was a paragraph-sized story in the corner of the picture, but I had no chance to read it.

Holy shit.

"Thank you," Mom said, swiveling her chair to face her computer again as I backed away. I didn't miss the smile on her face as she bit into her apple.

For the next five minutes, I watched my mother eat her apple, listening to the crunch of her pearly whites against its porous body. She drank her water between bites, tilting her chin upward and arching her back, forcing her titties high as rays of light sparkled against her pink nubs. I took several pictures as I stood by the door, but mostly I watched her mouth open and close and her throat pulse with each swallow.

Sexy, I thought.

When she peeled her banana and slipped the long, white length past her lips, I thought, She'd have a tougher time with me. I took several pictures of her with the banana between her lips, a smile pulling at her mouth. Once, before the banana could reach her, Mom slipped her tongue out and rested the banana atop it before pulling it into her mouth.

After she had finished her meal, the apple core and the banana peel went into her small, desk-side trashcan. She grabbed her water, drank some, and swished it around her mouth before swallowing. Then she drank some more before setting her water down next to a tin of mints.

Mom didn't look at me as she asked in an almost flat voice, "So, what do I have to do to keep you from being sexual with Jenna today?"

Today? The smart ass in me wanted to remind my mother about this morning, but then I looked at Mom's monitor, and the MILF on her knees made my dick pulse.

"Jenna promised me," I said, "that if I saw her today, she'd let me lick her titties."

"Titties," Mom said, shaking her head. "The way you teenagers talk. Titties." She turned her head toward me. "Is that what you like? Titties?"

"I like Jenna's titties," I said as a chill tickled my spine. "I like your titties. If I can't suck yours"--I shrugged as an anxious light entered Mom's eyes--"I'll have to suck Jenna's."

"If I have no choice but to let you," Mom whispered, grabbing her mouse and opening one of her desktop folders. Mom looked through her pictures, opening one of a young man sucking on a slender MILF's big tits. "Then, I have no choice."

"You don't," I whispered.

Mom turned in her chair. She sat with her feet on the ground and her knees spread. I followed the line of her thighs to her pussy, then up her flat stomach with its long muscles running up the center to her breasts. Her nipples looked harder than before.

Mom licked her lips and said, "Well, get on with it, Mark. I still have to finish my work."

"Okay," I said.

I walked forward. Mom slid her small butt up her chair, far enough forward that her pussy hung over the edge, but not her asshole. I knelt as I approached her, and she spread her knees wide, opening her cunny lips as well as her thighs. My fingertips tingled. They remembered the feel of her muffin.

Mom's office chair sat high, but even on my knees, I stood eye to eye with her. I pushed forward, my cloth-covered knob bumping into her pussy, and she inhaled sharply as her hips jerked back and her shoulders straightened. A loan sounded in the back of her throat, and she looked at me with closed lips as heavy breaths fell from her nostrils. The depth of my mother's gaze almost stopped my heart with its intensity. Where were those tears from last night? Today, all I saw was hunger.

I didn't try to kiss my mother when I moved forward. She turned her head to the side, giving me room to lower my mouth to her right breast. There were several strands of hair covering her perky peach, and I brushed them aside with my left hand. My fingertips feathered her skin, and small goosebumps rose where they passed. I lowered my mouth to my mother's tit. She grabbed onto the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white as I opened my mouth and fastened my lips around her thick nipple and perfectly round areola.

"Ah," Mom moaned, pushing her chest forward.

I sucked, my cheeks caving in as Mom's nipples stretched beyond my lips. I pushed my tongue against its underside, forcing the nub to the roof of my mouth as I licked around its bottom. As I sucked, my hands came up, acting on instinct. I took my mother's left breast in my right hand, capturing the bottom of it in the curve between my thumb and forefinger. My left hand did the same to her right tit, and I squeezed them at the same time, forcing her nipples upward and swelling them under the pressure of my grip.

"Oh, fuck," Mom whisper-hissed, turning her head forward and speaking her words of pleasure into my ear.

I sucked harder, licking her nipple, then pulling back and nipping at it. Mom's body jerked. She spread her knees wider, arching her back as much as she could and forcing more of her breast into my mouth. She started to move, her body undulating forward and back as her butt ground against the edge of the seat, like a woman in desperate need of a piss.

My mother's breast tasted of vanilla, and it was slick with my spit and smooth with her body lotion. I released her nipple, kissing my way to her other tit while squeezing her right breast again as I pinched her nubs between my thumbs and forefingers. Mom moaned as I pulled and twisted her puckered flesh with my fingers, and when I closed my mouth over her left tit, swallowing half her breast as though I were some giant, she released a high-pitch whimper that coaxed a healthy dose of precum from my balls.

Mom's loud moans, coupled with her wiggling, drove me to greater speeds. I tightened my grip on her tits, forcing another whimper from her throat as I coned them outward for my mouth. I tasted one, then the other, then the other, then the other, licking and sucking, nipping and biting and pulling on her nipples without mercy. Mom's wiggled her ass harder, faster, and she let go of the chair's arms and placed her hands on my shirtless body.

She rubbed my ribs, my back, and my shoulders, digging her short nails into my skin and sending spasms through my flesh. As I sucked on her right tit, I dropped my right hand to her pussy, cupped her, squeezed her, collecting her pussy juices before I brought my hand back up, painting her breast with her silky cream. I switched breasts, tasting her pussy juices on my tongue, and I dropped my left hand to her cunny, taking her soft warmth into my palm.

"Oh, oh, oh," Mom whined, her voice rising in pitch as she rocked her pussy on my digits. I stiffened them as she pulled her ass back, and on her return grind, my finger pushed past her inner lips and filled her tiny fuck-hole to the last knuckles, forcing a surprised, throaty grunt from her lungs.

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I continued to suck on Mom's tits while finger-fucking her twat, going as deep as I could while gathering her juices with my free hand and spreading her honey across her perky tits. When Mom's whimpers turned high and whiny, shooting out of her mouth at a rapid-fire pace, I thumbed her clit, finding her pretty little jewel on the first try and swishing her pearl with side-to-side motions. Mom lost it, digging her fingers into my shoulders as her cunny muscles tightened around my digits, and she came, covering my fingers in a wash of hot, wet, creamy cum.

"Mom," I whispered, petting her pussy lips from her clit to the bottom of her slit. "After I make Jenna come, she always makes me come." I pressed my thumb against her pleasure-nub and turned it in a shallow circle, making her shiver. "If you want to keep Jenna from making me come today, then you're going to have to take her place."

Mom dropped her forehead to my right shoulder.

"No choice," I whispered.

Mom opened her mouth, sliding her teeth over my skin, and then she bit my shoulder.

I trembled.

"Stand up," Mom whispered against my body. "Since you're giving me no choice."

I stood, pushing myself up with my right foot. As I rose, Mom's fingers dug into my flesh, my upward momentum dragging my chest and abdominals against her touch. She wasn't gentle. The sensation of her nails bending my nipples tightened my balls, and I released a moan that made Mom curl her fingers harder into me. After I stood, Mom pressed her forehead against my stomach as she pushed her fingers into the waistband hugging the cut of my hips, and pulled my shorts down my thighs.

My cock, so hot and hard, tingled as the coolness of my mother's office touched its skin. My trimmed pubic hairs stood on end, and as my waistband slid down the length of my shaft, Mom uttered a hungry, mmm sound from deep within her throat. My shorts cleared my knob and fell to the floor without further aid. She placed her hands on my hips and held me tight.

"I knew you'd be big," Mom whispered, her breath falling around the base of my shaft. "You're a big boy, Mark. My big son." She sounded proud. "Are you really going to make your mother swallow this whole thing--"

I moaned.

"--because that's what Jenna does for you?"

Jenna had yet to suck me off. She had jerked me off. She had let me rub my cock on her yoga pants and the tip against her squishy muff until I came. She had dry humped me until I had filled my shorts with cum, but Jenna had yet to take my cock into her mouth. She had wanted to do that on the same night I took her virginity. So what I said to my mother was...

"Yeah, that's what she does for me."

A slight, amused hum washed over the base of my cock. I still couldn't figure out how my mother knew when I was lying, but she did.

"She's a bad girl for an eighteen-year-old," Mom whispered, her head lowering and her breath getting hotter across my skin. "I didn't suck your father's cock until I was eighteen... and a half."

She sounded apologetic.

"I was young once, baby." Mom slid her right hand down my thigh and around my knee. I shivered. "But your father and I were better than you at not getting caught." Her fingers brushed my knee cap, and she turned her palm inward, raising her hand and sliding the backs of her fingers up my inner thigh. Goosebumps and a chill raced across the surface of my skin. "But we still could have gotten into trouble. We know that now." Mom turned her hand again, and my balls constricted. "That's why I have to do this for you, isn't it?" She cupped my balls. "So, you don't get into trouble."

"Mom," I moaned in a trembling voice, nearly coming as my mother rolled my nuts in her hand, then stretched my taut sack before rolling my nuts again. My glans came to life as pleasure warmed my nerve endings. I was going to come--and so fucking soon.

"Your cock really is virgin, isn't it?" Mom asked, her next breath traveling the length of my shaft and glossing over my knob. "Does Jenna at least jerk this monster off, baby?"

"Yes," I gasped, telling the truth. "She jerks me off."

"But she's never done this--umm."

Mom closed her lips around my knob, resting the underside of my glans on her wet tongue. Warm, slippery saliva bathed my cockhead, causing my prick to flex and throb. My balls spewed out a hot rope of precum that Mom gulped down with a loud mmm-mmm-mmm sound followed by a wet slurping sound as she pulled more of my meat into her mouth.

"Mom, Mom, Mom," I moaned, placing my hands on her shoulders.

"Umm, umm, umm," Mom moaned around my cock, gulping me down with relish as I slid my prick into her ethereal beauty.

Mom pulled gently on my sack again, stretching the tight flesh until I gasped. My asshole puckered shut as pleasure danced across my skin in sizzling bubbles of unseen bliss. I curled my toes into the carpet, and as Mom pulled her mouth up my cock, I slid my hands into her long, sunny-blonde hair. Her lips moved back down, wetting my shaft with more of her saliva, lubing up my fuck stick. She made that slurping sound again--a sound so nasty and naughty that a small bolt of real cum escaped my balls.

"Mmm," Mom moaned, taking my shaft into her mouth past the halfway point. She gagged when my knob hit the back of her throat, but as she did, she clamped her lips down around my thickness, sputtering spit from the sides of her lips as she palmed my balls. Her other hand dug into my hip, slipped back and downward, and grabbed my muscular ass. With her fingers in my crack and one tip against my asshole, she pulled me to her, taking more of my dick down her throat. Mom gagged again, the sound so violent that I lost control, coming hard in her mouth.

"Mmm," Mom moaned.

My orgasm started in my thighs, with an airy tingling along my skin. The pleasure continued from my thighs to my balls, raising the trimmed hairs on my mound as my cock tensed, then swelled, then filled with cum. A light sheen of sweat beaded my skin as my blood turned hot--so hot that I felt the individual beads of sweat emerging from my pores. This was so much better than a fucking handjob!

"I'm coming!" I groaned as an ecstasy-filled earthquake rocked my body.

Mom slid her mouth up my shaft, clamping her lips below my corona, and she sucked my cock down. Her right hand continued playing with my balls while she grabbed my shaft with her left hand and jerked me off with fast strokes, creating slippery-wet music with the saliva coating my pole.

"Mom, Mom, fuck, Mom!" I moaned, clenching my fingers in her hair hard enough to make Mom tighten her neck. "Yeah, oh yeah, yeah!"

"Umm, umm, umm," Mom gulped, swallowing every thick spurt of jizz that I had to give her. When my balls had emptied, Mom clamped her grip around the base of my shaft and pulled upward, driving every last drop of cum from my cock into her jizz-filled mouth.

"Thank you, Mom," I panted. "Thank you so fucking much."

Mom uttered a quiet laugh around my mushroom tip before she pulled her lips from my crown and said, "Only because you're making me do it."

"Yeah," I said, still breathing hard, "you have no choice."

"Get going," Mom said. "I have deadlines to meet."

I stepped out of my shorts and picked them up. At Mom's door, I said, "Mom, whenever Jenna and I know we're alone, she walks around naked."

Mom looked at me, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Or," I said in a rush, "she wears a small shirt that doesn't reach below her waist."

"Okay," Mom said, turning to her monitor. "When we're alone. Since I have to."

"You do," I said, then cleared my throat. "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You can delete the pictures on my tablet," I said. "We made a deal."

Mom smiled at me, and I smiled back, but then I turned around before my smile crumbled. I had those same pictures of Jenna on my phone and computer, but was that part of the deal?

I left Mom's office, refusing to answer that question.

Jenna and Mom

I wanted to see Mom right after our office encounter, but I knew she had work to do. Instead, I showered, dressed in jeans, a belt, and a T-shirt and grabbed an intriguing fantasy book full of sexy elves and naked nymphs, and started reading. The fantasy world had many great authors to choose from, but I couldn't declare anything as truly epic unless it gave me a hard-on.

My phone rang at one o'clock in the afternoon, and I put my book aside, though images of bare-breasted women in leathers and chains still floated around my head. Jenna's name brightened my phone's screen, and her ringtone blared through my speakers. I accepted the call and said, "What's up, beautiful?"

Jenna laughed, saying, "You sound like you're in a good mood. A really good mood. What's up with you?"

Uh-oh, could girlfriends sense when their boyfriends had gotten some action?

"I'm just happy to hear from you," I said, trying to think quickly. "So, how's our plan coming along?"

"My dad went back to work after dropping me off," Jenna said. "He does work, you know."

I laughed.

"I did pull my schoolgirl skirt up high on my thighs." Jenna throat-moaned into the phone. "Have you ever read those dirty stories on the internet where a man drives the babysitter home, and he reaches over and touches her legs and starts rubbing her thighs and slowly works his way to her pussy while she panics and tells him to stop, but once he rubs her clit, she melts for him?"

"No," I said, my cock growing at the playful shyness I heard in my girl's voice, "but you're gonna show me where to find them, and then we'll read them together."

Jenna laughed and said, "I felt like a girl from one of those stories. I felt so nasty--in a sexy way--I got a little wet."

"But it's your dad," I said with playful naiveté as my cock thickened.

"I can tell you like it." She giggled. "Aren't daughters supposed to be attracted to their dads? Isn't that science?"

We both laughed.

"I want to come over," Jenna said. "I'd invite you over, but Daddy says you can only come over when he's home, and you know my mother: She does everything he tells her to do as soon as he tells her to do it, no matter what it is."

"All right, but my mom's home, too, remember?"

"Yeah, but isn't she in her office?"

"I have a bargain with my mother," I said. "We can't do anything until we're responsible enough to handle sex."

"Ooh!" Jenna said, the noise somewhere between angry and accusing.

"Or until your dad sees that his little girl needs the cock."

"I like that," Jenna said, then she laughed. "I mean, I like the idea of him letting us be together."

"I knew what you meant." I looked through my wall towards my mother's office. "Come over. I have to let my mother know you're here, so if I'm not downstairs, use your key to get inside."

"Gotcha, see you soon," Jenna said. "Love you."

She disconnected the call before I had a chance to tell her the same.

I got out of bed and walked down the hallway to Mom's office with my phone in my left hand out of habit. I knocked on Mom's door and pushed it open, finding Mom sitting in her chair as naked as before. She looked relaxed when she turned her eyes toward me. I smiled, breathing in deeply. The scent of her pussy lingered in the air.

"I'm busy," Mom said, her voice softening while her expression turned meek. "But if I have to do something..."

I groaned and said, "Jenna's coming over."

Mom's face went from meek to flat.

"I'm not going to do anything with her," I said. "I'm telling you so that you won't worry." I smiled. "You can hang out with us if you want to."

Mom's flat expression narrowed, turning into a sharp-cheeked glare. Even angry, her beauty took on a dangerous quality that made my heart throb.

"Don't look at me like that," I mumbled, looking down. "It's turning me on." I shrugged. "Look, I'm wearing jeans. Thick jeans. With a belt. Nothing is going to happen."

"It better not," Mom said, her voice holding an edge, but then she spoke again in a softer tone. "I know that she's your girlfriend. I know that you two are in love." But did she believe it? She must have, given her history with Dad. "I don't want to keep you from seeing her, but remember your promises."

"I will," I said. "I do." Then, as I looked up and allowed my gaze to take in Mom's nude body, another thought entered my eyes. "But, if you're worried that Jenna's going to want me to feel her up, then I think you better come downstairs for a while. You could stay in the kitchen, and I could go and see you if the urge to touch her becomes too hard to resist."

The flicker of a smile crossed Mom's face.

"Jenna thinks it's sexy to get finger-banged while our parents are around."

"She does, does she?" Mom asked, licking her lips. She took a deep breath, that hungry, smoky look coming into her eyes. "Do I have to keep you out of trouble while she's here?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "If you want to keep me out of trouble, then you have to."

"Okay," Mom said.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jenna. I'm downstairs, it read.

"She's downstairs," I said. "We'll see you soon."

I slipped out of Mom's office, my cock growing hard as I went to meet my girlfriend.

Jenna stood in the foyer, dressed in her pleated schoolgirl outfit, complete with saddle shoes and knee-high socks, and no, our high school didn't make us wear uniforms, but many of the girls pretended it did. Easily, every day, a third of the female student body dressed in the smallest schoolgirl uniforms they could find. Jenna's eyes found mine the moment I appeared at the top of the stairs. She smiled, glowing and radiant, and her eyes dropped to the front of my pants.

"Someone is happy to see," she said, holding out her arms for a hug.

A smile spread my lips, and I laughed, shrugging and jogging the rest of the way downstairs, my cock continuing to stiffen as my jeans rubbed and bent my prick in interesting ways. I slid my arms around Jenna when I reached her, and she hugged me tightly, her arms tensing as she pushed her stomach into my hard-on.

"Uh," I groaned.

"Are you going to kiss me or what?" Jenna asked. "Don't tell me that that's off the table."

Was it off the table?

"Quickly," I said, pressing my lips to Jenna, but without adding my tongue.

"Aw," she said, pouting.

"This is only the first week." I grabbed her hand and took her into the living room, where we sat on the left side of the back couch facing the TV. "We can hold off for a week or two, or three. Our parents can't keep this up forever. They will give in."

"Maybe so, but I want you now."

We kissed again, but I broke it off as soon as Jenna's tongue came out to play.

"You're really fucking hard," Jenna said, looking down at my crotch. "Can I jerk you off?"

I groaned again.

"Please, Daddy?" she asked, laughing. "Imagine if I said that to my dad, just as slutty as I said it to you? Daddy. Oh, Daddy." Her tone made my cock pulse. "If my dad can't tell how horny I am after he hears that, then I don't know what to do next."

"You could sit on his lap," I whispered as we got comfortable on the couch. I lay on my left side, while Jenna lay on her back, my left arm beneath her head and my right arm across her body, my hand on her hip.

"That's so wrong," Jenna said, giggling. She pushed her thigh into my crotch, rubbing me back and forth. "But, I'll do it if you're there watching me."

She smiled, then opened her mouth wide and uttered a small shriek. We laughed, and that's when Mom walked across the upstairs landing. Jenna cringe-smiled, but she lifted her left hand and waved at Mom.

"Remember the rules," Mom said, looking at my hand on Jenna's hip as she walked downstairs. "It's good to see you, Jenna." Mom had changed into a small white cotton T-shirt without a bra, her titties bouncing and her nipples hard as she walked downstairs, and she also wore a pair of posh, peach cotton lounge pants. Her shirt left her belly button and sides exposed, and she wore no socks on her little feet.

"It's good to see you, too, Mrs. Hornsby," Jenna said. She bit her lower lip for a moment before sitting up and speaking again. "Mrs. Hornsby?"

"Yes?" Mom asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"If my dad was okay with everything..." She looked to the side as pink bloomed in her cheeks, followed by crimson. "Would you be okay if Mark and I were... you know... having sex?"

I raised my eyebrows. I'm sure my dad was fine with it, but Mom? I knew that she was worried about what Mr. Mason would do, but I couldn't remember her saying if she was okay with us having sex in the first place.

"You're young," Mom said to Jenna. "But, with some conditions, like condoms and an unbreakable, sex-only-at-home policy, I believe that I'd be okay with you and my son sleeping together."

Precum left my balls, my cock flexing and ass tightening as the unexpected pleasure rushed through me.

"Thank you," Jenna said, dropping back down to the couch.

I was still lying on my side.

"I'll be in the kitchen," Mom said, "but you never know when I'll be back. Behave yourselves, else neither of you will be visiting each other's homes for a while."

"Okay," I said.

"We promise," Jenna said.

When Mom had had enough time to reach the kitchen, I said, "You're blushing."

"Well," Jenna said, play-smacking my chest. "It's easy not to blush during an argument, but we weren't arguing."

"I want to kiss you right now," I said, looking down at her button-up shirt and pleated skirt, the hem resting on her upper thighs.

"Then do it." She nibbled her lower lip. "Kiss this teenage girl."

I laughed, saying, "And that's why your dad gets upset."

"But it's so hot," Jenna whispered. "Doing what's wrong."

"We can wait a little while longer." I squeezed Jenna's side. "I know we can."

Jenna growled, then smiled and said, "Maybe you can't touch me, but that doesn't mean I can't touch myself."

"I think you're right," I said. "And I won't stop you."

"Right now?" she pouted.

"Anytime," I said.

"Right now," she said, no longer asking a question. She placed her left hand on her stomach and ran it down her body to her skirt, where she played with her waistline before slipping her hand down to the center of her hemline. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Show me," I said, smiling as I looked down at her skirt and removed my hand from her hip, laying it on my side so that I had an unobstructed view of her body.

Jenna pinched her hem and pulled upward, stopping at the bottom of her crotch and pretending to reconsider until I growled. She giggled and continued to pull her skirt upward, and then the soft, golden flesh of her tender pussy came into her view. Her cleft lay closed together, her skin smooth and perfect, the triangle of her mound pressed against the insides of her thighs until she spread her legs and gave her pussy room to relax. She dropped her skirt around her waist and smiled at me, waiting.

"The prettiest pussy in high school," I whispered, looking down at her smooth beaver.

Jenna laughed. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," I said.

"And how many high school pussies have you seen?"

I smiled, rolling my eyes and chuckling.

"Mine is all wet on the inside," Jenna purred. "I can feel my juices dripping out of me. I like how you look at my pussy."

"How do I look at your pussy?"

"Like you're hungry," she said, low and throaty. She rubbed her thigh against my crotch. "Like your cock is hungry. Like, if you wanted me right here and now, then I couldn't stop you even if I wanted to." She nibbled her lower lip. "Like your mom couldn't stop you if you wanted me."

I growled, then said, "And that turns you on?"

"Yes," Jenna said. "Do you wanna touch it for me?"

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"Yes," I whispered, looking toward the kitchen, but I couldn't see over the back of the couch and down the shortcut hallway. "I always want to touch it."

"I always want you to." Jenna wiggled her body. "Please touch it, Daddy."

I growled again.

"Do you think if I show my dad my pussy," Jenna whispered, her cheeks reddening, "it'll make him let you fuck me?" Jenna's blush deepened. "Maybe you should tease your mom."

My cock released a river of precum that swelled my shaft. "You're a bad girl," I moaned, leaning down and pressing my forehead against hers. "You're going to get me in trouble with my mom."

"You're going to get me in trouble with my dad," she whispered, tilting her head up to place a kiss on my lips. "But it's so fucking worth it."

"Let me see what my mom's doing," I whispered, returning her kiss, lip to lip, but without the slip of my tongue. "I want to be able to taste your pussy on your fingers when I get back."

"Okay," Jenna said in a soft voice. "Hurry up."

I growled again, kissed her lips again, pushed myself up and over her, kissed her lips one more time as she lifted her ass from the couch and pushed her uncovered pussy against my cock. Groaning, I slid over her, rubbing my body against hers, stood, and Jenna reached up to rub my cock through my jeans. I moaned through clenched teeth, having to pull myself away from her caress. I headed to the kitchen as Jenna slipped her left hand between her coltish thighs.

In the kitchen, I found Mom standing at the kitchen island with her back to the hallway. Her thin pants clung to her butt. I imagined that she had not bothered to protect her little pussy with a pair of panties. Next to her rested a bottle of chardonnay, and she was sipping the wine from the glass she held in her right hand.

"Are you behaving yourself?" Mom asked with a tremor in her voice. "As you promised?"

"I am," I said, walking up behind her. "It's hard, though. Jenna wants me to touch her."

"You can't."

"I know," I said, "but I need to touch someone right now." I licked my lips, thinking, Please, God, don't let me fuck this up. "Jenna's in the living room with her skirt around her waist, so I came here because I need to hold a pussy in my hand right now."

I had expected Mom to stiffen, but she trembled instead. Still sipping from her glass of wine, she reached back with her left hand, hooked her thumb into the waistband of her lounge pants, and pushed them down her ass until the waistline lay just beneath her butt cheeks. My cock throbbed. I loved my mother's in-between ass. Not flat, not bubbly, but with a gentle curve and the pear shape that made the bottom sides slightly wider than her hips. I loved how her crack swept away at the bottom, opening a small doorway between her thighs that led to the golden curve of her tender folds.

"Do it," Mom whispered. "Hold my pussy, quickly, before Jenna wonders what's taking you so long."

I extended both hands, placing my left on my mother's side. The warmth of her body burned into mine. My right hand went between her legs, pushing between her thighs, my hand wide enough to make her spread her legs for me. She uttered a small grunt at the swiftness of my hand pushing between her limbs, and then I was holding the soft folds of pussy flesh in my fingers and palm. Wetness greeted me, slick and slippery and hot to the touch. Mom had a furnace between her thighs, and dripping from its insides was the nectar of life--the sweetest tasting pussy juice I had ever drunk.

The finest I'll ever have, I thought, knowing that no woman in the world, no matter how special to me she became, could ever top the taste of my mother's honey. I bet it's like that for every young man who has ever tasted their mother's pussy.

"Uh," Mom moaned as I pushed my middle and ring fingers into her pink hole, spreading her tightness and laying my outer fingers against her thighs. "Oh, Mark, oh, baby--quickly!"

I gritted my teeth and increased the tightness of my grip on my mother's left side. She bit back a low moan. I had my middle and ring fingers inside of her, with my palm facing upward. I bent my wrist so I could cup the bottom of her ass crack in my palm, then I curled and swished my fingers around her insides until she was shaking her head and muffling her whimpers with her left hand.

"Go," Mom whisper-hissed at me. "Go to Jenna, and don't touch her."

"Can she touch herself?" I asked.

"Mark," Mom said, a sigh trying to fight through the pleasure in her voice.

"If I'm not touching her, then it's okay, right?"

"No," Mom whined.

"I can't stop her," I said, pushing my fingers up Mom's creamy snatch to their last knuckles and then some, forcing her onto her toes.

"Uh," Mom grunted in a light, surprised tone. "I'll join you then. Mmm, fuck! Go--oh, god--go, now, damn it!"

I slipped my fingers from my mother's cunny. A glaze of her wetness coated their length, so I ran them through her ass crack, making her shiver when I tickled her asshole. She pushed her rosebud back against my fingertips. Then, I wiped the rest of her juices off on the crotch of her cotton pants.

"See you soon," I said, sweeping Mom's long hair to the right and kissing the back of her neck behind her ear.

She shivered. I left her in the kitchen with her pants below her ass and her legs spread, her pussy a sopping wet mess.

As soon as I entered the living room, the sweet, unmistakable scent of Jenna's pussy filled my nostrils. She lay on the couch, on her back, with the soles of her feet together and her knees spread wide apart. She had her skirt up high on her stomach while her left fingers had disappeared between the pink line of her slit, her right fingers massaging her clit with wide circles that made her butt squirm.

"Oh, baby," Jenna whisper-moaned, "will you eat my pussy for me?"

"Shh," I said, though she had spoken low enough not to be heard by anyone but us. I walked behind the couch, slid over the back, and wedged myself on my side next to Jenna. "We have to be careful."

"Touch my pussy," Jenna whined, biting her lip to keep from getting too loud. "Feel how soft it is for you. Feel how wet I get for you."

I shook my head, groaning on the inside.

"Please, baby, for me," Jenna whispered. "My pussy needs it, Daaa-dee."

"Oh, you bitch," I said, reaching down with my right hand and grabbing the inside curve of her right thigh, her muscles firm with the springiness of youth. I squeezed her hard, making her hiss, and while my insides tried to force my hand between her legs, I fought back the desire to hold my baby girl's pussy in my hand. "Soon. I promise. Soon."

"No, now," she pouted like the little girl she was. "Now-now-now."

"Fuck," I growled, squeezing her thigh harder.

"Yeah, Daddy," Jenna moaned. "Hurt me."

"Let me taste your fingers," I hissed at her.

Jenna swung her left hand around her thigh and reached for her pussy, pushing her two biggest fingers deep between her slippery crease. She arched her lower back off the couch when her fingers wouldn't go any further into her cunny, her butt wiggling, the digits on her swollen jewel turning faster and harder than before. With a wet sucking sound, she pulled her fingers from her pussy and lifted them toward my mouth, pausing about six inches from my lips.

"Are you sure you want a taste?" Jenna asked, whispering. "I mean, don't we have to be careful? Don't we have to wait until my dad says it's okay for you to fuck me?"

"Now you turn into a tease," I whispered, groaning and leaning forward.

"Uh-uh." Jenna pulled her hand away from my mouth and shoved her honey-drenched fingers between her lips. She sucked, making wet sounds and humming as though she were satisfying her hunger. "Go down there and get a taste if you need one so badly."

I groaned, closing my eyes and said, "I--"

"Ahem," Mom said and not from behind the couch but from in front of us. She had walked around the dining room and into the living room, and she had a full view of Jenna lying on the couch with her skirt on her tummy and her pussy out in the open, saying hello to anyone who cared for a peek. I knew that that was what my mother could see, and I hadn't even opened my eyes to check.

"I wasn't doing anything," I said, keeping my eyes closed.

"Jenna," Mom said, "you need to pull your skirt down and cover up your virginity. It doesn't matter how pretty it is; you should leave it to Mark's imagination."

"Yes, Mrs. Hornsby," Jenna said, shifting on the couch as she adjusted her skirt.

I kept my eyes closed, my breathing rising while I fought to keep calm.

"And Jenna," Mom said.

"Yes?"

"You should start wearing panties when you're in my home."

"Yes, Mrs. Hornsby," Jenna said.

I opened my eyes. Jenna's entire body had turned bright pink. Breathing deeply to calm myself, I turned my head and looked at my mother.

"Do you know what you two need?" Mom asked, and before we could answer, she continued with: "A swim. A dip in the pool will cool you off. Go and change into your bikini, Jenna, and meet us in the backyard."

"Yes, Mrs. Hornsby," Jenna said, sliding off the couch and hurrying to the door. She left, leaving me alone with Mom.

"I didn't touch her," I said. "I promised that."

"You didn't?" Mom asked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

"We pecked each other on the lips a couple of times." I shrugged. "Smooches. It's the same kind of kiss grandma would give me, puckered lips and nothing else."

"Not even passion?" Mom asked. "I don't believe that you'd kiss Jenna the same way you'd kiss your grandmother."

"I..." I said and shook my head.

"Come here."

I stood and walked over to Mom, unable to speak. My heart sped up the way it would when I was a kid whenever I couldn't tell if I was about to get an ear full of my mother's anger or not. I had fingered my mother. I had licked her asshole and eaten her pussy--I had made my mother come, and I had had my cock in her mouth, yet Mom was still able to be just my mother.

"Your Jenna is a bad girl," Mom said as I stopped in front of her. "Coming into my home without her panties and then trying to tempt my son with her young pussy."

Holy shit. Mom's words made my cock tingle, and the tightness beneath my jeans pressed down on my prick hard, forcing me to flex my cock to fight the discomfort.

"I didn't do that for your father until I was eighteen," Mom whispered. "And a half."

"There's a lot of experience in that half," I said.

"Shut up, smartass." Mom licked her lips. "Give me your right hand."

I lifted my hand, and Mom took it. She looked at my fingers while pressing her thumbs into my palm and her fingertips into the back of my hand. For the next minute, Mom turned my hand back and forth, her eyes drifting over every line of my digits, then she folded all but my middle finger down and looked me in the eye with a sudden meekness. She opened her mouth in a small 'O' while leaning forward and sliding her lips over the tip of my finger. Her eyes never left mine.

"Umm," I moaned as Mom's tongue swirled around my digit. She lowered her mouth over my finger, never breaking contact eye contact with me. She took me down to the last knuckle, then withdrew, then moved down again, then withdrew, picking up speed as her lips tightened around on my digit width.

"Mmm, mmm, umm, mmm," Mom moaned around my finger, leaving her saliva behind. She pushed my ring finger alongside my middle and sucked it one into her mouth. She changed the angle of her sucking, rolling her head to the left and right, varying the depths of her head-bobbing and the pitch of the hungry sounds that left her throat while never breaking contact with my eyes.

My cock tightened, and my balls constricted. A buzzing sensation swam through me as my heart sped up, and precum dripped from my knob. Mom sucked my fingers for a minute, though time had stopped for me, and in my world, nothing existed but my mother and her slow, seductive finger sucking.

Mom slipped her lips from my fingers and whispered in a trembling voice, "I believe you. The only pussy I can taste on your fingers is mine."

"Mom," I said, sighing. "We should go upstairs."

Mom's lips pulled into a sudden, amused smile, and she said, "We should go upstairs and change into our swimsuits. Jenna's coming back soon, and judging by the pictures she lets you take of her, she'll be wearing next to nothing since I'm here."

My eyes widened: Jenna!

"We need to change," Mom said.

"We?" I asked.

"Yes," Mom said, "I'm going to chaperone your date."

I went upstairs and returned downstairs faster than Mom had, wearing my gray board shorts and nothing else. Jenna arrived a minute later, wearing a loose white T-shirt over her bikini bra and a beach towel around her hips. As soon as she entered the house, she un-tucked her beach towel and showed me the front of her small bikini panties--it was a red thong that just allowed the outermost sides of her fat labia to show.

She spun around, whipping her towel to her left side and showing off the thong running between the firm cheeks of her bubble butt. The nylon was thick enough to cover her crack and the inward sloping sides of her cheeks. It narrowed at her perineum, then widened against her pussy, holding her muff-meat so tightly that it outlined her every cunny fold. She reminded me of those Japanese massage videos where some perverted masseuse drips oil all over the pussy of the woman he was about to molest.

"That's hot," I said as Jenna spread her legs and bent over at the waist.

"Do you think your mother's going to get mad?" she asked.

"Don't know," I said. "It's a bikini, and she said to put on your bikini."

"I know," Jenna said, turning around. "She didn't say a bathing suit, or one-piece--which she knows I have--she said, 'Bikini.'"

"As long as we're not fooling around." I grabbed Jenna's hand. "Let's get outside before my mom comes down." I pulled Jenna through the house. "Oh, and she's going to chaperone us."

"You're kidding!"

I laughed as I led Jenna into our backyard.

By the time Mom had entered the backyard, we were already swimming. Jenna's top matched her bottoms, a deep red bra that darkened as the water seeped into its fabric. The cups sat low-cut on her heavy breasts, leaving all but her nipples and areolas bare, and it wasn't big enough to hide the sides of her ample tits, their perkiness keeping them high and tight to her curvy yet toned body.

"What do you think she'll say about my top?" Jenna had asked me before my mother had entered the backyard.

"You are a bad girl," I had said, standing arm's length away from her in the rippling water, my gaze drifting from the naughty glimmer in her eyes to the rock-hard nubs capping her tits. They weren't as long as Mom's diamond cutters, but they were thicker, and my mouth watered as I thought about taking one of them into my mouth.

Our concern for my mother's reaction to Jenna's bikini faded away the moment we saw my mother. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses, had her lotion in one hand and her towel in the other, and was wearing something that could have been a bikini if companies made bikinis out of dental floss.

Attempting to cover my mother's breasts were black strings with triangle cups that left three-quarters of her tits bare. The tiny bra strings wrapped around her sides, connecting in the back, and below her waist, she wore a pair of matching panties, with two nylon waistbands riding her hips while a tiny, triangular patch of cloth slid vertically down between her legs, cupping her inner lips and barely covering the inward folds of her outer lips--which left so much of her pussy meat bare. Half of her bright, blonde landing strip lay above the low-slung waistline of her bikini panties, and Jenna's eyes widened at the sight of those sunlight pubes.

"You two go ahead and cool off," Mom said as she sat in a lounge chair to the right of the pool. "I'm going to enjoy the sun." She set her towel down. "Behave yourselves."

Mom uncapped her lotion and poured some into her right palm. She rubbed her palms together, then rubbed the lotion into her skin, starting with her arms and shoulders, and then her chest, stomach, and breasts, her fingers cupping the exposed portions of her tits with a soft caress. Mom did her thighs next, opening her legs and running her hands between them, from her ankles to the sides of her pussy and up to her hips, pulling the strings of her waistband outward and slipping her fingers beneath them, seeming to pay extra attention to lotioning her entire body.

Holy snatch attack, Batman, I thought, the sound of my voice a whisper between my ears.

"Jesus," Jenna said when Mom stood and did her backside, though she stood facing us. "Is she trying to make us uncomfortable?"

I shrugged, grabbed Jenna's hips, and turned her sideways to Mom; then I looked to my right, where Mom lay with her legs spread and the swells of her pussy pressing against her G-string. The exposed portions of her labia flowed into her thighs with a natural beauty.

"I don't know, but it's working," I said, shrugging again. "We better behave ourselves."

Jenna growled.

I offered her a soft smile and dove sideways into the water. Our swimming lasted about five minutes before Jenna said, "Let's get some sun. Do you think your mom will let you rub some lotion on me?"

"Let's ask," I said. "Mom, can I rub lotion on Jenna, or is that something we can't do?"

"As long as you behave yourselves, you can do whatever you wish," Mom said. "Just remember not to cross any lines that you shouldn't."

"What lines are those?" I asked, stepping in front of Jenna so she couldn't see me smiling at my mother.

Mom tilted her head upward to look at us, though her tinted glasses hid which one of us she had focused her attention on. I guessed Mom was looking at Jenna when she said, "Anywhere not covered by Jenna's bikini is okay with me." She laid her head back down.

Jenna looked at me, widening her eyes and making an, oh, really, face, then she smiled and headed for the steps. As her thong-covered butt broke the water's surface, my cock tingled, the head swelling as a ring of pleasure encircled the corona. I looked at Mom, who lay with a slight spread to her glistening legs, her pussy lips kissing the then fabric of her panties from beneath, and I wondered what I had done to deserve this break from Mr. Mason's decree.

You still can't do anything with her, I thought, and maybe so, but anywhere without a bikini? There was a lot of anywhere on Jenna's body at the moment.

Jenna grabbed a towel and dried her body off. I pushed myself out of the water at the side of the pool, grabbed my towel, and dried off as well. As Jenna lay in a lounge chair next to Mom, I grabbed Mom's oil--the same oil I had used on her a few days ago--and I sat on the side of Jenna's chair as she lay down on her stomach, using her towel as a pillow.

"Don't let Jenna burn," Mom said in a soft voice, followed by a softer yawn. "Make sure you rub the oil deep into Jenna's skin. Take your time. I'm going to have a nap. Wake me in ten minutes and remember: Behave."

Jenna's cheeks flushed red, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she raised both eyebrows at me while pressing her lips together in an odd, embarrassed smile. I almost said, "Oh, behave," but decided not to ruin the opportunity with a stupid Austin Powers line. My mother would have been around eighteen when that movie came out, probably necking with my father and getting felt up in the movie theater beneath the projector.

I pulled my thoughts back to the present as I poured a handful of lotion into my left palm. More memories of Japanese massage porn came to me, and I thought back on the times that I had massaged Jenna in her room while she watched one of those videos on her phone.

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My cock remembered too, swelling and thickening; the new tightness in my boardshorts made me grimace as I tried to get comfortable. Was Mom watching as my hard-on grew?

I was sitting on the side next to Mom's chair, and she had angled her head in our direction. Was she enjoying this? I wasn't a mind reader, and normally I wouldn't have asked, but I was going to ask her about this after Jenna had left. This was not my mother from a few days ago. This wasn't even my mother from a few hours ago.

Touch your girl, my cock yelled at me.

So I did.

"Undo your bra," I said loud enough for my mother to hear. "Unless you want an uneven tan."

"Is that okay, Mrs. Hornsby?" Jenna asked, looking at me over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow.

"As long as you behave yourselves," Mom said in a low tone. "But your bottoms stay on. This isn't my living room."

Jenna looked at me, her cheeks rosy. She had to say that, didn't she, her smile said. Her fingers went to her back, undoing her bowtie and then her necktie. Her laces dropped to the lounge chair, and the sides of my girlfriend's breast settled against the cushions.

I turned my left hand over, dumping the oil into the center of Jenna's back. My right hand followed, pushing into the warm pool, displacing it across Jenna's skin. She had young skin--taut skin--that felt thicker than my mother's, but there wasn't much difference between how they made me feel. I moved my hands over Jenna's shoulders, rubbing them and slipping my thumbs across her neck. Jenna pulled her long hair to the front, and as I swept my fingers from her neck to her shoulders and biceps, goosebumps rose across her flesh.

"Might as well massage me, too," Jenna whispered, a wide, playful smile on her lips. Massage me was our secret code to play out the massage creep porn scenes that we had watched together on adult websites.

I didn't bother asking my mother for permission to massage my girlfriend. There was no way of knowing what Mom was willing to let us get away with or why she had allowed us to do this in the first place. So, I pushed my fingers into Jenna's skin, rubbing the oil between her shoulder blades and onto her lower back, tracing her spine and getting a quick thrill from the firmness of her body. Jenna uttered several moans, nothing too sexual, soft at first, but as my mother continued to lay silent on her lounge chair, Jenna's utterances gained some volume.

After I had finished her back, I moved to her sides. The heels of my palms touched her panty line as I rubbed the oil into her skin. I moved upward from her sides to her ribs, cupping her body and resting my fingers along her front while my thumbs slid along her back. As I approached the side of Jenna's breasts, her body tensed, and she turned her face to the left, looking away from my mother. Oil from her back ran down the sides of her tits in thin rivulets, and those, along with the oil coating my fingers, made her perky titties shine as I ran my finger over their soft, outer bulges.

"Ooh," Jenna said in a low whisper of breath that was more like a sigh than a spoken word.

I pushed into the sides of her tits, feeling the buoyancy of her teenage mounds. Mom's breasts had bounced back after I had squeezed them, but Jenna's reacted faster, with more perkiness, but Mom's tits allowed me to mold my hands to them without a fight. I couldn't have said whose I liked better based on feeling alone. (I don't know how any man could choose another woman over his mother or the woman he loved.)

My hands had to keep moving down her body before I busted a nut in my shorts. What was my mother thinking? I let my gaze drift over Mom's body, admiring her puckered nipples as they pointed skyward, then her flat stomach, and then the patch of cloth over her cunny that gripped her meat so tight I could see the outline of her slit. I couldn't tell if my mother was wet, her black nylon made that impossible, but I believed she was.

I'm going to find out as soon as Jenna goes home.

Moving my gaze away from my mother's 3-D twat so I could concentrate on Jenna, I slid down the lounge chair so that my ass was near Jenna's knees, giving me the perfect angle to reach forward and run my hands over the thick meat of round butt.

I grabbed more oil, lubing my left hand, and then, smiling as I did it, I turned the bottle over and poured streams of oil all over Jenna's ass. The thick liquid splashed across her backside, spreading out like bursts of paint with thicker fingers at the ends of their arms. I held the bottle over Jenna's crack and poured oil over her thong, making her tense, but Mom said nothing. I moved lower, hitting her lower cheeks and the small gap between her thighs, the gusset of her thong soaking up as much of the oil as possible. Jenna spread her legs until the right one hit my thigh. I drizzled more of the oil along her outer pussy lips. My girlfriend ran her left hand--the hand farthest from my mother--between her legs from below, grabbed her panties. She pulled them tight between her thighs, giving her cunny a small wedgie and exposing more of her succulent pussy lips to me.

I sighed aloud, then looked at my mother. She still hadn't moved. She still had her head angled in our direction. She's not faking sleep, I thought, but whatever this game was, I wasn't going to go beyond the rules she had given me--although whatever Jenna did on her own was beyond my control.

I reached out with my hands, my fingers stretching, and my palms open and wide, ready to grasp my girlfriend's teen ass. Was Mom going to stop me with a gotcha moment? I don't know why I thought she would, but I did--it made no sense, but neither did this. My hands hovered over Jenna's cheeks. She inhaled, her breath shaky as my shadow loomed over her backside. I lowered my hands, sensing her cheeks before I touched them, and then I had her bubble butt in my hands, and despite the thick size of her golden apple, my hands nearly swallowed her cheeks whole.

She looks so small next to me, I thought, and given that she was only eighteen, no wonder her father worried about what I wanted to do to his daughter. Poor guy. But then I spread his little girl's ass cheeks wide, forgetting all about him.

Jenna giggled, then she sighed as I held her cheeks open. Had she been naked, I would have seen her asshole struggle to wink at me. She moved her hips upward, wiggling them as well, fighting the pressure of my hands. My oiled palms slid off her cheeks, allowing her crack to close, then I grabbed the bottoms of her cheeks with my thumbs, resting them on the inward curve of her twin hams, and I pushed upward.

The tips of my thumbs pressed into her crack, rubbing her nylon thong but not moving under the fabric. I dug the heels of my palms into her backside, tenderizing her meat and muscles and driving goosebumps up her spine. Jenna bit back a moan, but there was no mistaking how good my hands were making her feel. There was a smile on her face, something between pleasure, excitement, and nervousness. I thought back to the moments we had tried to flaunt our sexuality before our parents' eyes--god, what was wrong with us?

I dragged my thumbs downward through her crack, then slid my fingers to the outside of her thighs. I moved upward, oiling her hips and swinging back down over her cheeks, spreading them again as I worked my touch to the bottom swells of her buttocks. I spread her lower cheeks open, the tight flesh creasing against her thigh and sweeping inward toward her cunny. Jenna sighed again as the pressure causing her lower cheeks to open also spread her pussy lips apart, which allowed more of her thong to seep into her steamy cleft, nearly exposing her inner folds.

Where the treasure lay.

Sunlight glinted off the backs of Jenna's thighs, and I moved my hands from her ass after one final, over-the-top squeeze of her cheeks. I slid my hands down the backs of her tapered legs and around their sides, all the way to her feet, pausing to give her hamstrings and calve a good thumbing, creating comet lines and forcing soft moans from Jenna's clenched teeth. During this time, my cockhead throbbed, my shaft ached, and my balls spewed precum that I wasted outside my mother's mouth. My mother's, because Jenna had yet to give me head.

If I could have taken out my cock and made my mother suck it right there, with Jenna beneath me, I would have. I could picture my mother pouting, Do I have to? While I answered, Yes, you do unless you want me to fuck Jenna in front of you. Since this was a daydream, my girlfriend would join in and--

"Oh," Jenna squealed.

I had pushed my hands up the insides of her thighs, my thumbs pushing a wave of tension before it. I had slid so far between her thighs that my thumbs had pushed into her outer pussy lips, moved inward over her nylon panties, forcing some of the fabric into her soaking wet hole.

I pulled my hands away, and Jenna uttered a soft, "Aw," that made my balls spit up another healthy dose of precum.

My heartbeat rose beneath my chest, creating a hollow thumping in my ears. The world grew brighter, and I could see every line between Jenna's legs. The softness of the pussy crescent beneath her thong was tangible to my eyes, and my mouth watered as I imagined the taste of her vanilla pudding. Then, after widening my eyes, then shutting them, I imagined Jenna and my mother bent over my bed with their asses in the air, their legs spread, and their juicy pussies eager for my kiss.

I opened my eyes and whispered, "Turn over," to Jenna in a shaky voice. Did I just see my mother smile from the corners of my eyes? "Let me get your front."

"I have to tie my bra," Jenna said.

"No." I put my hands on her wrists. "Just hold it against your chest. So long as you're not flashing me, it's fine."

I didn't look at Mom, but Jenna did, and when my mother didn't move or voice any objections, Jenna said, "Okay." I heard the unspoken, Daddy in the air.

Jenna turned over, holding her bra against her tits before lowering her hands to her sides. I oiled my palms and started with her arms, doing one at a time, holding her wrist with my off-hand while swimming my free hand up to her shoulder, then across to her neck. Her feet and shins came next. I picked up the bottle of oil and poured some more over her chest and breasts, and she smoothed her hands over her tits, plastering her bikini bra to her mounds, her nipples pushing up and through the fabric.

A pulse of electric bliss raced through my balls.

Jenna pinched her nipple, the farthest from my mother, and her eyes slid to her left as a sly smile spread across her lips. I poured more oil onto her smooth belly and even more along her hips and thighs. With a devious expression, Jenna clenched her ass cheeks and pumped her pussy upward, begging me to cover more of her flesh in the slippery liquid. I smiled, nodding, and saturated her mound and cunny bulge, glazing her tasty clam until it shined.

We had made a mess of her body.

I set the oil down and placed my hands on Jenna's sides. She smiled, biting her lower lips and turning her eyes to the left as if she could see my mother without turning her head. I pressed my fingers into her flesh, squeezing her while I rowed my thumbs over her stomach, the oil dripping from her like thick, melted honey.

With every breath she took, her stomach dipped inward, and I moved over her long stomach muscles and played with her belly button, dipping in and circling the shallow divot, making her smile and jump as her flesh glistened with oil. I moved toward her breasts, and Jenna grabbed the sides of her bra and pulled outward and down, tightening the material and making it thinner across her teenage tits.

"Anywhere there is no bikini," she mouthed, once again sliding her eyes to the left.

That was what my mother had said, so I spread my thumb and fingers wide and pushed to the bottoms of her young tits, cupping her mounds in that long crescent of flesh between my thumbs and forefingers. They pushed right under her heavy breasts, and I brushed my fingers over the exposed perkiness of her big tits. I caressed Jenna when I could, I held her tight when my cock strained forward, and I even used two hands per breast for a minute or more.

I ran one hand between them and one around their outsides, cupping them from two directions, testing their give and their impulse to bounce back to their full roundness after every titty-hug. Jenna's nipples seemed to swell with the attention. Even though her eyes begged me to abuse her puckered nubs with light flicks and twists of my fingers that would have sent bolts of pleasure through her body, I held back from touching them, keeping my promise to my mother.

It was hard leaving Jenna's breasts, but I still had her thighs, hips, and the swell of her nearly exposed snatch to spread my hands over.

Mom still hadn't moved.

I dropped my palms to Jenna's thighs, above her knees, and moved upwards. My fingers led the way, my thumbs in the inward curve of her thighs, but not between her legs. I oiled her slick body to her hips and around her sides, getting my fingers into her butt cheeks and coming back around to feather the top of her mound where her panties were too small to cover. Every single one of her inhales trembled through her nostrils; her exhales matched those anxious sounds.

I moved down her thighs, and then I moved my hands to the insides of her knees. Jenna spread her legs for me, her chest expanding outward and her stomach dipping inward as she sucked air into her lungs. I moved up her legs, her flesh softer between her thighs--softer and warmer, her heat penetrating my skin and making my palms tingle.

"Mmm," Jenna moaned as I touched the hollow dip between her thighs and pussy. She spread her legs as far as she could, her right sliding off the chair and pulling her pink pussy lip from beneath her panties. The nylon sunk into her slit, cupping her slot with a fury, and her swollen clit made a soft hill against the fabric covering her twat.

Anywhere not covered by Jenna's bikini is okay by me.

If it was okay by my mother...

I pushed all the way up Jenna's thighs, my thumbs touching her between her legs, riding her pectineus muscle as it connected her thighs to the slope of her mound. I rubbed downward into that hollow dip before her exposed outer pussy lips. Jenna shivered, and I moved inward, touching the softness of her outer lips and running my thumbs through the oils that had slipped from her cock-hungry twat.

Jenna bit back a whimper.

My left thumb moved inward, connecting with her inner lip and bending the soft, rubbery flesh with the pressure of my touch. I caressed her labia with up and down strokes, never trying to go further beneath her panties. Digging my thumbs into her cunny meat, I squeezed inward, pinching her softness and running my thumbs upward until I had pressed on her pussy lips where they surrounded her clit. I squeezed, moving my fingers left and right and left again, tugging her pearl, and then Jenna whimpered louder than she should have.

"Has it been ten minutes yet?" Mom asked, yawning, and I knew right away that she had not been asleep.

"About," I said, pulling my hands away from Jenna's pussy.

Jenna fixed her bikini.

"I think I could use a swim," Mom said, pushing herself from her chair. She looked down at us and shook her head. "How much oil do you think a girl needs?"

I laughed.

"Is anyone going to join me for a swim?"

"In a minute," I said.

Mom walked to the pool and jumped into the water.

"I need to come," Jenna whispered as soon as we heard the splash of water behind us. "I have to go. I need to come so badly, baby. I'm sorry." She sat and leaned forward, pecking me on the lips. "We're going to fuck soon, I promise."

She stood, grabbed her towel, and wrapped it around her waist. She turned and jogged through the backyard, calling her goodbyes to mom before she went into the house. I shook my head as I watched her go. I needed to come too.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you?" Mom asked after several minutes of silence.

I turned around.

Mom was in the pool, standing near the edge.

"Mark, is there something you need to make me do?" she asked in a low, throaty voice.

"You're damn right there is," I growled. "Get inside the house."

Mom smiled and said, "If I have no choice."

"You don't," I said, watching her leave the pool and walk toward the house, her ass cheeks sliding together as she removed her bikini for me.

I followed my mother into the house, stripping down to nothing as well.

Mom

Mom turned around once she passed the kitchen island, her eyes widening when she saw me wearing nothing but my hard-on with water dripping from my lean muscles and my dick pointing at her with a menacing swell to its size. I don't know if she had planned on me behaving as directly as I was, but I walked straight to her, brought my hands up so fast that she flinched, and caught her cheeks within my palms. I lowered my head. Mom opened her mouth, her instincts kicking in, and her tongue slid forward between her lips, swinging down and around, licking my tongue as I opened my mouth and pushed inward beyond her lips.

"Mmm, mmm, umm, mmm," Mom moaned as our lips melded and our tongues danced, both of our mouths watering as we wrestled behind her gums.

I stepped forward, pushing my cock into Mom's stomach; her body was small and slight compared to mine, and there was nowhere for her to run. My hands encompassed her head while my mouth crushed hers. I was easily twice as broad as my mother and a head and a half taller--I was taller than my father--with bigger hands, shoulders, arms, muscles--perhaps in every possible way. A man will never know how small his mother can feel in his arms until he's pressing his lips against hers and sliding his tongue into her mouth while holding her in a grip that she couldn't get away from. Thankfully, my mother didn't want to get away from my hold on her.

Mom pressed her lips against mine as hard as I pressed mine against hers. She darted her tongue around my mouth, circling mine, licking it, petting it, and running her tip along the surface, touching the roof of my mouth. When my cock hit her stomach and slid upward, she moved her hips, rubbing her stomach across the thick under-vein running the length of my shaft. At the start of our kiss, she had grabbed onto my wrist, but her hands now slid up my arms and over my biceps, rubbing them back and forth before sliding down my ribs and sides before taking my ass cheeks in her hands and squeezing them hard. Between us, our hearts hammered each other's chests, beating as one through the barriers of our flesh.

"Why did you let it go so far?" I asked, breathing hard as our lips parted.

"Because now you want to fuck her, and you can't," Mom said, her voice fighting her deep breaths. "Your balls need to release that nut, baby, and I'm the only one who can do that for you."

Jesus Christ!

"But you'll get into trouble if you do it in Jenna's teen pussy. I can't let you get into trouble." Mom's eyes smoldered. "I have to make you come now, to keep you out of trouble. I have to, don't I? Because you're going to make me." Mom's head moved forward, her mouth pressing against mine, and when she pulled back, she tugged on my lower lip in a way that made precum slide through my shaft. "You're going to make me make you come, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I said, slipping my hands down her back and taking her ass in my hands. My palms and fingers swallowed her firm cheeks whole as I lifted her into the air.

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I carried Mom down the shortcut hallway into the living room. Her lips never left mine. Her tongue caressed me as I dipped my fingertips between her thighs, sliding them along the length of her small cunnyhole. I found her clam dewy and wet, sticky to the touch, with a layer of honey that made soft, sticky sounds whenever I dipped my fingers into her. Unable to help myself, I reached upward through my mother's butt crack with my middle fingers and lubricated her asshole with her juices.

"Ooh, baby," Mom whispered against my lips. "You like to get nasty with Mommy, don't you, baby?"

"I take after you," I whispered, prodding her butthole but not trying to enter her puckered backdoor. "You're getting nastier by the hour."

"Uh-huh," Mom said in a throaty voice, nodding her head while wearing a doe-eyed, pouty look. "That's because your father won't let me be naughty with him." Mom pouted. "He'll never let me be as nasty as I want to be."

I had to ask her about that later as I sat her on the back of the couch. I leaned down, bending my knees, and hunching my back as I took my mother's right tit into my mouth. I sucked inward, hard, pulling backward and taking her tit flesh with me, then her areola, followed by her nipples. Her breast meat snapped away with a wet sound, and I moved to her other nub, suckling on it like a starving child.

"Oh, Mark," Mom huffed, "I love how you suck my tits. Mmm, fuck, you're a bad boy."

"I love how they fit in my mouth," I whispered. "But now I need to come. Lie down on the couch."

"Wait," Mom said, taking me by the cheeks and planting several kisses on my lips. "We don't have the time to do this right." She slid her hand down my abdominals, around my cock, and cupped my balls, making my hips jerk and my back arch. "I want you to lie down, and I'll slide my pussy over your prick if that's what I have to do."

"Oh, god," I moaned. We didn't have time to do this right! I was so fucking close! "That's what you have to do." I swallowed, trying not to come as Mom's ball-caressing fingers filled my sack with pleasure. "And tomorrow--oh, fuck, Mom, tomorrow--we can do it right, right?"

Mom uttered a throaty laugh and whispered, "Yeah, if you make me."

I groaned again and picked my mother up by her ass. Turning, I slid my right leg over the back of the couch and planted my foot on the center cushion, and then I slid my left leg over the backrest, taking Mom with me as I slid down the backrest and sat on the couch lengthwise against the armrest.

"Oh," Mom said, laughing while I held her pussy above my cock. "So strong, baby. So fucking strong."

"I like it when you do things for me," I said.

"A mother does what a mother has to do." As she said the word, mother, a new spark of excitement flared in her eyes. "A mother does what she has to do... for her son."

Mom kissed me hard, bruising my lips as she forced her tongue into my mouth. I set her down, the underside her pussy kissing the underside of my glans and sending my cock against my stomach. A quick throb of pleasure soothed the ache between my legs as Mom slid her pussy down my shaft and rested her cunny lips against my balls. She pushed on my shoulders and then my chest, forcing me to lay down as her lips stayed connected to mine until neither of us had any breath left to spare.

"Remember this moment," Mom whispered, looking into my eyes. "You can't fuck Jenna, so whenever you have the urge for some pussy, you have to come home for it... to me." Mom humped her hips forward, her twat feathering my prick from my balls to my crown. "Momma"--her smile widened into something sinister--"is who you have to come to for your daily dose of pussy."

I moaned, my balls tightening with every naughty word that left my mother's mouth.

"I have all the pussy you need between my legs," Mom said, her words trembling as they left her lips. She mashed her twat against my pole. Her pussy lips spread to either side of my shaft, bulging against the insides of her slender thighs, her flesh so soft and tender that it felt like warm butter oozing around my hard-on. "Whenever you want it... to keep you out of trouble."

"Fuck, Mom," I said, grabbing onto her sides, above her hips, where her skin was softer and more welcoming to my touch.

"But, when your father is here," she panted, her eyes widening as a smile spread across her lips, "you'll have to make me surrender my pussy to you." She moaned as she slid her dripping wet snatch down my shaft and against my balls. "You'll just have to take it from me--oh, fuck!" She had pulled her hips back and leaned forward, pressing her clit against the thick under-vein running along my shaft. "You'll have to make me do it."

I bucked my hips, thrusting my cock through Mom's dripping wet slit as she held my dick tight to my stomach with her snatch. My knob touched her hole, the heat within creating a vaporous steam that left my pole wet. I slammed my hips upward, our bodies smacking together as my hips hit the backs of her thighs--my sack spanking her ass.

Mom whimpered, biting her lower lip.

I humped my hips upward again, moaning loud and breathing hard.

Mom leaned forward, bracing her palms against my chest and digging her fingertips into my skin.

I moaned as sharp bolts of pleasure raced through me.

Mom Groaned.

She pumped her hips forward and back, spreading her knees and rowing her creamy softness over my dick from back to front to back to front, pausing to wiggle her pussy lips and clit against my solid bar of thickness. While Mom's clit ground against my shaft, she would release several whines of pleasure before repeating her motions harder and faster than before. As she rode the length of my cock, she arched her back and reached behind her ass, cupping my balls with her right hand.

"Fuck, Mom," I gasped as her gentle touch stood my short hairs on end. "That's so fucking hot."

I slid my left hand from her side to her ass and my right upward, palming her left breast with my fingers pointed straight up, then turning them outward so I could cup the side of her tit. I rubbed her nipple in circles, then caught the puckered nub between my fingers and pulled. Mom gasped. I strummed the pebbled tip while Mom dropped her head back and filled the living with quick, excited whimpers whose meaning I recognized--she was close to coming.

My balls tingled, knowing that she was about to bust. Her insides dripped cream all over my rod, wetting me between my thighs as her pussy lips swished this way and that, spreading, slipping, and sliding, her pussyhole leaving a glazed trail of taboo nectar across my shaft.

"Fuck, Mark," Mom huffed, "I'm getting close. I'm getting close to coming on your cock."

"Mmm," I moaned as mom took my dick for a ride, her movements and words becoming too much to bear. A tingling started within my glans, shooting through my shaft and buzzing my balls with a staticky field of pleasure. "Me too, Mom. Oh, fuck, me too!"

"Open your mouth, baby," Mom said. "I've got a treat for you."

I pictured Mom leaning forward and dropping a wad of spit into my mouth, the way those nasty fuckers in Japanese pornos did to the sluts they were fucking--why was I so twisted? But Mom didn't lean forward, and she didn't spit. She slid to her left, off the couch and around, her movement so fast that I would have missed it had I blinked. Between one second and the next, she was riding me, then she was off of me, and then she was back on me, pushing her pussy onto my mouth as she took my dick between her lips.

Amazing!

I kissed Mom's slit as she tongued my corona with wild licks. A shiver tore through me as she moved her head to the side and licked my glistening dick down to my balls while jerking me off with her right hand. She grabbed my balls with her left hand and pulled them toward her mouth, sucking on my sack as she stroked my cock.

I didn't have much time. The tip of my dick tingled with my impending orgasm. I moaned into Mom's pussy, reaching between her legs with one hand to thumb her clit while reaching around her thigh with my other hand and sliding my two biggest fingers into her muff.

"Oomph," Mom grunted at my digits' thick penetration.

I slid my tongue onto the curve of her pussy, and despite the tight fit, I managed to lick and suck her clit while thumbing her pearl between my tongue-licks. Just as Mom released a high-pitched whimper around my knob, I came, spraying a thick rope of jizz into her mouth. My shaft filled with hot, sticky cum, and I unloaded every ounce of sperm from my balls and into my mother's mouth.

"Mmm, mmm, umm, mmm," Mom whimpered around her mouthful of cock. With each whimper, her pussy filled my mouth with the warm cunny-honey that had been building inside of her. Her thighs clamped down on my head, and she laid her body flat against mine, shaking and trembling and leaving my face messy with her cummy juices.

I lay in a daze, staring into my mother's vertical smile, her lips glistening, and her creased folds making me think of a teepee with a pink line for a door.

"I have to get back to work," Mom panted, her lips moving against my semi-rigid staff. "This is going to be an exhausting summer for me."

I smiled.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you to wear panties tonight." Goosebumps spread across my skin. "In case I need to make you do something while Dad's here."

"Maybe we shouldn't fool around while Dad is here," Mom whispered. "Last night was dangerous."

"Unless I make you," I said. "Unless I take it from you."

"Oh, boy." Mom grabbed onto my thighs and pushed herself up. "I got carried away."

"Dad doesn't let you get carried away." I lifted my arms and placed my hands on Mom's ass, spreading her cheeks and looking at her little butthole. "I'll let you get carried away."

"Your dad is a passionate man," Mom groaned as I pulled her cheeks further apart. "But he's always passionate. Passionate, romantic... loving, and if he had his way, he'd never give me what I need half of the time."

"What's that?" I asked, touching her rosebud with the tip of my forefinger.

"A proper fucking that breaks my pussy," Mom said, gasping as her butthole sucked at my fingertip. "Are you sure you're ready for my naughty side, Mark? All of it? Sometimes, I just want to be a slut."

"Yes," I said.

"Careful what you wish for," Mom whispered, then added in her normal voice, "I need to get work."

Mom stood, turned, planted a kiss on my forehead, and then she headed upstairs, calling back, "Pick up our bathing suits, please."

"And don't wear panties tonight," I called back to her.

"If you're gonna make me," she said in a sigh-like tone that was almost too low to hear.

I smiled, thinking about tonight.

When tonight came around, I was in my room face-timing with Jenna over my phone. She had her phone set up on a stand, aimed at her naked body as she opened and closed her drawers, looking for something to wear.

"What do you think will drive my father nuts tonight?" Jenna asked. "What's going to make him look at me and think, 'This girl needs to get fucked,'?"

"Your oiled body from this afternoon," I said as I lay on my side in the center of my bed. "That was something."

"I know, right?" Jenna faced the camera, smiling and shaking her head, her pale nipples and areolas standing out against the gold of her tan. "Maybe your mom was giving us a break. I never thought that she was against you fucking me."

"Making love to you," I said, laughing, "is how she would have put it."

"Well, we can make love after you give me my first real fuck," Jenna said. "My pussy is aching for your dick."

"You're making me hard."

"Stroke it for me," Jenna said. "C'mon, that's not against the rules, is it?"

I laughed.

"Whatever." She turned back to her drawers, giving a shot of her narrow waist and thick ass, her butt curving outward, not sideward. "What do you think? Should I wear my pink crop top or my white cotton T that you can see my nipples through?" She looked over her shoulder at me. "You'll get my nipples really hard if you jerk off to me right now. I'll stick my butt out and spread my legs, and you can pretend your fucking either hole."

I groaned, then said, "You rarely let me lick your asshole."

"Because it's weird, but it does feel sooooo fucking good," Jenna said, biting her lips. "I like to save that for special occasions." She made a wet, tsk, sound. "I'm just a little girl. Don't pressure me to do naughty things!"

We laughed together.

"Focus on my mouth and pussy, and then you can have all of my ass on my nineteenth birthday."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," Jenna said. "But, you have a scary dick, so let me get used to it first. You can't just go shoving it up my butt like I'm a pornstar."

"You should wear that pink shirt you have that says, 'Daddy's Girl,'" I said, "and your yoga shorts that ride halfway up your ass like a pair of panties."

"Ooh, that would be hot." Jenna smile-cringed as she looked into the camera. "You know, I told Karen about our plan."

"About teasing your dad?" I asked, leaning forward. "Everyone's going to think I'm a fucking pervert."

"You are a pervert. I'm just a kid."

"Stop that," I said. "You're not a fucking kid."

"Don't worry," Jenna said, "Karen told me a secret too." Jenna turned around and sat against her dresser, her thighs closed and squishing her pussy lips together but not hiding the start of her slit before it disappeared between her thighs.

"Which was?"

"She caught her uncle jerking off to her!" Jenna said, laughing hard. "Not the older one, but the younger one. The cute one."

"I don't know her uncles," I said.

"He's ten years older than her," Jenna said. "It doesn't matter. One night, she got drunk at a party and came home, but she couldn't make it upstairs. Her uncle was in the recliner, and she dropped down on the couch with a blanket. During the night, she took off her pants under the blanket, but she woke sometime later with the blanket on the floor and the sound of porn on the TV."

I laughed, saying, "That's why you have to mute the porn, even when you don't want to."

"Karen only cracked her eyelids open. She didn't make a big deal about waking up, even when she saw her uncle looking at her while stroking his dick. She realized that he was staring between her legs, at the front of her sheer white thong. I helped her pick out those panties. You can see everything."

"Why'd she wear them?"

"For Brad," Jenna said. "She thought she was going to get fucked--he only fingered her--but that's not the point. When she realized that her uncle had his dick in his hand and that he was staring at her, she spread her farther apart for him."

"You'd get millions of views if you put that on Pornhub," I said as my cock thickened with a gradual flow of excitement. I loved the feeling of my shaft stretching forward and outward, plumping up a little at a time and making me feel really big, not that I wasn't big, but there's a difference between feeling big and being big.

"Now, she masturbates while thinking about him," Jenna said. "When she sees him, he makes her blush, and she can't stop thinking about how excited and nervous he must have been when he jerked off so close to her. She didn't say it, but you could totes tell that she wants to fuck her uncle."

"She totes does, does she?" I asked, raising my voice with an over-the-top tone of curiosity.

"Shut up," Jenna said. "I like that word 'totes.' Like, I'm gonna totes suck your dick one day soon, baby."

"When you use it that way..."

We laughed.

"What should I wear?" Jenna smiled, her lips pulling into a sly curve. "Maybe your mother can lend me her bikini."

I laughed.

"Your mom looks good, by the way," Jenna said. "She got the bi-curious side of me wet!"

"Save your wetness for your dad."

"Ew," Jenna said, laughing. "You want me to fuck my dad." She laughed harder. "What if teasing him leads to fucking him? Oh my god: What would you do if that happened?"

I laughed and shook my head, unable to come up with something witty to say.

"Wear your yoga shorts and a small T-shirt," I said as Jenna's laughter faded away. "Don't wear your panties or your bra."

"Of course not." She bit her lower lip, then reached up to pinch her nipples, uttering a small gasp as she pulled them outward. "Do you want me to play with my fat pussy, Daddy?"

I groaned as Jenna giggled.

"Do you think my father will smell how horny I am if my pussy is all wet for you?" Jenna looked down and spread her legs as she leaned her ass against her dresser. "Do you like my meaty, teen pussy, Daddy?"

"You're going to get us into trouble," I said as my cock surged to its full hardness. "You need to get going."

"Aw," Jenna pouted. She looked down at her pussy and spanked it hard. "Bad kitty, giving my boyfriend a hard-on."

I laughed, and my laughter ended in a groan as I thought about pulling my dick out and giving Jenna a show.

"This better work soon," Jenna said, grabbing her clothes. "If Dad doesn't tell me to fuck you by Friday, then we're fucking on Saturday no matter what."

"Sounds good to me," I said, the word rushing out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," I said, unable to stop myself again.

"Okay. I'll call you tonight to tell you what happens." Jenna walked to the phone, puckered her lips, and blew me a kiss. "Love you."

"Love you," I said and disconnected the call.

Why had I promised her that we'd fuck on Saturday? Why had I promised my mother that I wouldn't fuck Jenna as long as Mom gave herself to me? Why-why-why?

Because the women you love most are promising you their pussies, that's why!

I could always count on my little head to reason things out for me. I looked at my clock. It was only six in the evening--on Wednesday--which gave me a few days to figure out how I was going to keep my promise to Jenna come Saturday. I thought about it until my hard-on went down. As I studied my dick through my pants as it lay on my sack, I thought, Am I bigger than Dad? I wanted to be. Thinking about giving my mother something that she'd never experienced before gave me a sick, shameful thrill that made my knob tingle.

I had to stop thinking about sex for one damn minute. It was about dinner time. I sniffed the air, but through my door, I couldn't smell anything cooking. Rising from my bed with food instead of pussy on my mind, I changed into my long, cotton workout shorts minus my boxer briefs and a tight, form-fitting T-shirt. As my cock dangled in my shorts without the tightness of my boxers to keep it in place, I thought about Mom, which led to thoughts of pussy that quickly overwhelmed my thoughts of food.

I grabbed my phone, tapped the screen to Mom's number, and texted, Did you remember not to wear your panties tonight? I stared at the screen, waiting, my mind focused on the screen and my heartbeat singing at a steady pace.

Yes, Mom texted me less than a minute later. Come downstairs if you're hungry.

For food, pussy, or both?

I headed downstairs, leaving my phone behind and smelling the warm scent of dinner once I reached the top of the stairs. Spices and herbs and cooking meat from the kitchen filled my nostrils. There was nothing quite like my mother's cooking. I don't think I had ever had that thought before without someone asking me first--it's amazing how much more I could appreciate a woman when she was giving her pussy to me.

"Hey, Dad," I said as I entered the foyer and looked into the living room. Dad sat on his couch with a rocks glass of whiskey in his hand. Oh, no. "You're not taking a sleeping pill today?" I nodded at his glass of liquor.

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"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.

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"You better hope that your father doesn't wake up and find out what you've come to do to me," Mom said in a normal, conversational tone while her eyes fell upon my cock. She took her reading glasses off, setting them on the nightstand next to her book.

I cringed for a moment, but then I remembered that not even a Zeus-thrown thunderbolt could wake my father right now. Mom knew that too. She knew it better than I did. How many times had she ridden my father while he slept? What else had she done with him? Had she sucked his cock and gotten away with it?

"Your father isn't going to wake up, Mark," Mom said, louder this time.

Hell yeah, she had!

I moved forward, my cock leading the way. Mom spread her legs, and the light from her lamp gleamed across her slit. As I stopped beside her bed, I glanced at her paperback book, the title reading Mother with the Hots. It looked old.

"I ordered it off the internet," Mom said, her voice low and hungry, "along with some other classics. I shipped them overnight. Your father doesn't know about them."

"Did it make you wet?" I asked, glancing at Dad before looking at my mother in her eyes.

"Dripping wet," Mom said, reaching between her legs to bracket her pussy folds with her fingers. As I stared at her twat, Mom pulled her hands to the side, slowly opening her dewy lips to my eyes. "Find out for yourself."

I reached down for her pussy, and as I did, Mom lifted her right hand and took my cock in her fingers, just below my corona. I bit back a moan as her touch buzzed my knob with pleasure.

"You can moan," Mom said. "Your father won't wake up."

"How do you know?" I whispered--remembering what my father had said about himself.

I moved my right hand between my mother's open thighs with my fingers pressed together and my palm facing her muff. I moved forward, cupping her wet sex and parting her inner lips with my middle finger. Tender warmth and slippery softness greeted my touch, then the doughy softness of her pink insides enveloped my digit.

"Uh!" Mom moaned, exaggerating the loudness of her pleasure.

I froze and looked at my dad. He continued to sleep, his chest rising and falling beneath the blankets, his eyes closed, and his expression calm beneath the darkness shrouding his body.

"See?" Mom asked, stroking my cock. "He won't wake--ooh!"

I had slid my ring finger into my mother's cunny without warning, giving her a little payback for scaring me. I held her pussy bowling-ball style, and she turned her hips in small circles, rolling her pussy against my digits.

"Baby," Mom whispered, squeezing my cock hard. "Mommy likes that." She licked her lips as she jerked me down to my balls. "You can be rough with me if that's how you want to take me."

"Mom," I moaned as she continued to slide her fingers around my cock. I curled my fingers within her channel, rubbing her G-stop with every withdrawal, then corkscrewing them back into her creamy cunny channel with each inward stroke. After a few thrusts into her clam, I pressed my thumb against her pink nub, forcing a hiss from her lungs as she pumped her pussy onto my fingers.

"Come closer," Mom said. "Put your dick in my mouth."

She tugged on my junk, and I stepped closer to the headboard, stopping against her nightstand. Mom scooted down the bed, still holding my dick, her pussy taking my fingers to their last knuckles. I moaned as her breath washed over my knob. We had to bend a little, but Mom's lips found my crown, pressing against my hot flesh and opening wide so her tongue could lick my piss slit.

I shivered, whispering with a tremor in my voice, "Mom, do we have to wait until tomorrow?"

"Mm-hmm," Mom moaned, taking my cock into her mouth. Her cheeks widened, and her tongue swished around the underside of my glans, circling my corona. She pulled her lips from my cockhead and licked the left side of my shaft down to my balls.

"Do we, Mom?"

Mom took my sack into her mouth, creating a tingling sensation in my balls that exploded through my body. I pressed harder on her clit, her little, squishy button rolling in the wetness between her upper pussy lips. Mom licked the right side of my shaft, not stopping until she held the bottom of my mushroom tip on the surface of her tongue.

"I thought you were here to take me," Mom said, her voice thick and muffled due to my cock resting on her tongue.

"Dad won't wake up?"

"He won't," Mom said with her tongue full of dick meat and her fingers still around my prick's shaft. I looked her in the eyes. Mom slowly jerked my cock, her emerald greens burning with a sensual intensity.

Groaning as Mom tried to take my cock into her mouth, I pulled my hips back as I slid my right arm under her knees. Mom chased my meat, sputtering when I managed to pop my knob from between her lips and push my left arm under her shoulders. With a shaky breath, I lifted her naked body from the bed, turned toward her bedroom door, and walked forward, leaving my father alone in his bed so that I could lose my virginity to my mother.

Our First Time

I carried Mom to my room with my cock bobbing beneath her. She stared up at me as my heartbeat rose, and my cheeks turned red, the heat drifting into my neck and chest. Mom pressed her palm over my heart, a soft smile that was all too motherly appeared on her face. She rubbed my chest with back and forth strokes, her touch easing my heartbeat back to a crawl. I hadn't closed my door, and as I carried my mother over the threshold, I used the heel of my left foot to swing my door shut. The clicking of the bolt into the lock sounded so loud and final that Mom glanced over my shoulder to look at my door. I continued to my bed, climbing onto my mattress with my knees and laying my mother down in the center, her head coming to rest on my biggest pillow and her legs spreading as I leaned back to look at her.

"I'm wet," Mom whispered, "but you should warm me up some more. It's going to take a lot of cream to take your cock." She reached out and brushed my cock with her left hand, forcing a tremor through my body. "You have about an inch and a half on your father, and you're thicker." Mom licked my lips. "You have a big dick."

"That's what every son wants to hear from his mother," I said, unable to hide the smile on my face.

Saying that may have sounded silly in any other situation, but Mom said, "It's what every mother hopes to say to her son."

I looked upon my mother, admiring her slender body and her little handfuls and their pinkish nipples, hard and long, with somewhat puffy areolas. Her stomach lay long and smooth, the hint of twin muscles running down its length to her mound, where her thick landing strip matched the color of her flaxen, sunlight hair. I reached out and brushed her pubes, their silkiness making my cock bob, and then I looked below, where the rest of her sex lay hairless, wet and small and flushed pink with her desire for me--her son--and my cock.

"Don't you want it, baby?" Mom asked, spreading her legs for me and tightening the muscles of her ass, pushing her cunny upward. "Don't you want your mother's pussy? Don't you want Mommy's little pink hole?"

Groaning deep in my throat as my vocal cords tried to give voice to my desire, I slid between my mother's thighs, my balls touching her skin as I crossed over her right leg. I lay down, bracing myself on my elbows and staring into that soft, vertical smile between her thighs. Her inner lips lay pressed together, each a perfect mirror of the other and hidden within the narrow, pointed oval curve of her outer folds--a mandorla shape, as the Christians called it. I released a long sigh as I lowered my nose to my mother's muff, the tip touching her clit as I inhaled and filled my lungs with the sweet, floral scent of her maternal desire.

My tongue came out, licking low and pushing through the tenderness of my mother's cleft. Dewy wetness greeted me as her soft shell opened, the heat warming me down to my toes. I opened my mouth wider, tilting my head sideways and kissing her meaty lips, then sucking them into my mouth and pulling my head back as I did, taking her clam with me.

"Uh," Mom moaned, lifting her hips as I pinched her clit between her upper cunny lips. I let her go, then I took her folds within my grasp, squeezing and puffing out her smooth lips, trapping her pearl between her outer labia and giving her a tight squeeze. "Oh, yeah, baby."

I tugged on Mom's pussy, moving her cunny meat around while her glistening cream dripped from her slit, wetting her perineum and the pink divot of her asshole. More of her nectar dripped onto my bedspread, darkening the white fabric and branding her pussy's perfume into my sheets. After playing with her pussy for a little while longer, I released her muff meat, opened my mouth, and closed my lips over the curve of her mound, capturing her pleasure-nub and the hood above.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," Mom whined from her throat, her hips turning in small circles as she tried to guide her twat into my mouth.

I flicked her clit up and down, polishing her jewel as I brought my right hand forward, extending my fingers as I did, and slipping the tips along her opening. I feathered Mom's petals apart, folding them to sides and revealing her inner pinkness where her hole and walls were smooth and shiny. They reminded me of soft sherbet or smooth yogurt, delicious deserts that would melt when eaten.

"Ooh," Mom moaned as I pushed my middle finger into her hole. I rotated my finger upward, then down, to the right and then left, closing my eyes as Mom's pussy walls sucked on my digit, her muscles clamping around my flesh, making my dick throb and my balls ache. I slid my forefinger deep into her snatch, her walls tightening further as the new thickness filled her twat. "Oh, fuck, yeah, lick that clit, baby. Lick Mommy's clit while you finger me."

I moaned against her pussy, working her jewel faster. I moved my left hand up onto her mound, my fingers pointing to the right with my thumb slipping downward, massaging the meaty tube of flesh protecting her pearl. Every downward slide against her hood popped her clitty farther outward. Every time I swirled my tongue around her swollen jewel, Mom bucked her hips, fucking her pussy hard against my face.

When I drew my mouth back and slipped my thumb onto her clit, turning my head to kiss the inside of her damp thigh, tremors ran through her body. Her pussy channel tightened, her walls quivered, and her pussy produced a thick, creamy honey that made it easier for me to fuck her tight, little muff, despite her tightness.

"Mark, baby, Mark," Mom whimpered, closing her thighs and putting her hamstrings on my shoulders. I fingered her faster, thumbed her nub harder, my pinky finger slipping down to her asshole and tickling her rosebud. "I'm gonna come, baby! Fuck! Mommy's gonna--come!"

Mom's entire body tensed. She arched her back, lifting her ass from the bed and driving my fingers deep into her snatch. The heat within her bloomed, searing my fingers and drenching my digits in honey. Her nectar spilled from her, covering my face, wetting my tongue, giving me a deeper taste of her flavor than I had ever had before. I lapped up her cream, licking her like a dog, leaving her wet with spit yet clean of her incestuous juices.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," I moaned as I drank her sweet syrup.

Mom continued to whimper her pleasure, and she whined as a second round of bliss tortured her shaking body. Minutes seemed to pass before her muscles loosened and her ass lowered to the bed. My comforter was now wet with her juices and sweat, the smell of her pussy thicker than before, hotter, filling my nostrils with its cock-teasing scents that urged me to bury my bone as far into her pussy as possible.

"The things you make me do, baby," Mom whispered, running her hands through my hair. Her fingers curled, finding a grip in my strands, and she pulled upward. "You made me cum so much. What are you gonna make your mommy do next?"

I moaned, my heartbeat jumping every time she said the word, Mommy. I wasn't going to say that word, it was too odd for a grown man to say it, but when Mom said it, she made my balls tingle.

"I'm going to make you take my dick," I whispered. "Your son's dick."

Mom smiled, her eyes narrowing as clouds of pink swirled to life across her regal features.

"Then make me take it," Mom whispered, "since I have no choice."

"No choice," I whispered.

"None," Mom said, barely shaking her head, making it sound like a question.

"None."

I moved up my mother's body, kissing her pubic hair, kissing her waist, licking my way to her navel, the touch of my tongue making her suck in her stomach as I continued upward. I caressed her breasts as I licked each of her long nipples, sucking them into my mouth while coning her breasts and forcing more of her tit flesh beyond my lips.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," Mom moaned with deepening degrees of sensuality. She purred when I kissed her throat, and she sighed as I kissed the line of her jaw and nibbled her ear lobes, and she chased my mouth when I finally held my face above hers. "I can feel the heat of your cock against my pussy lips."

"Mom," I moaned, "you have a dirty mouth."

Mom nodded her head, her eyes sparkling as she said, "And you make me use it."

"I have to," I whispered, "if you want me to stay away from Jenna."

"Oh," Mom said, smiling, "right." She reached down between our bodies, rubbing her pussy once, her fingers sawing through her wet lips, and then she took my dick in an overhand grip and lubed my meat with her slippery juices. "Are you going to make me guide you into me? Are you ready to come home, Mark?"

I had a lot to learn about talking dirty, but I nodded to let my mother know I was ready to come home. Mom pulled me forward, her grip beneath my corona, and without having to look, she fit my knob to the steamy lips of her pussy.

"Push forward," Mom said in a throaty whisper. "Put your cock inside me."

I did as my mother told me to do. Her pussy lips kissed the tip of my glans, and then they spread apart, taking their time to unravel before rolling over my spongy crown. Heat misted my knob, followed by the sticky wetness of my mother's inside. A tingling sensation raced through my tip and down my shaft, swirling around my balls and tightening my asshole. Mom's slick pussyhole fought my girth, then spread, sliding over me with a wet, velvety grip that tugged at my skin while massaging me at the same time, sending tremors of pleasure throughout my body.

"Uh," Mom grunted heavily when my glans opened her hole and sank into her pussy. "That's a thick head, baby." Mom closed her eyes and lips and released a deep, guttural sound from her throat. "Ease yourself into me. Mmm, that's it. That's it. Work that hot dick into me nice and slow--ooh--back and forth, feed this pussy your fuck meat--ah--a little at a time, baby. Mmm, yeah, there you go."

Mom still hadn't let go of my dick. As I pushed into her, her insides fought me, the strain of her tightness forcing a wet friction across every inch of my cock. Mom would stop me, push me backward, then pull me forward, allowing me to open her twat with another inch of my cock when she was ready to take more of my salami. Her face tightened, her lips pressed together, and with every inward thrust, she would exhale a quiet moan, followed by a sigh of relief whenever I pulled my cock from her silky chamber.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, straining not to plunge my cock into her as hard as I could.

"Does it look like I'm in pain?" Mom asked, her voice trembling. "It's beautiful-agony, son. It only looks--ooh, baby--like it hurts, which is why your dick is so--mmm--fucking hard right now."

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy the pornos where the woman was struggling to take the dick, but I spoke the truth when I said, "Everything about you makes me hard, Mom."

"So you don't want to pound your cock into me and find out how loud you can make me whimper as I struggle against your big dick?"

My cheeks warmed, turning red.

"How does this pussy feel?" Mom asked when half of my cock was inside of her. She still had her hand on my shaft, jerking me and pulling the skin trapped within her cunny tight against my knob. "I can feel you throbbing inside of me."

"Your pussy feels like heaven," I said, clenching my jaw as Mom's inner muscles rippled along my shaft. It was as if I had dipped my cock into the softest, creamiest, and tightest channel of flesh in the world. My hardness fought her cunny tunnel, seeking to straighten her out while her narrow passage tried to bend my cock to its contours. Mom's snatch wrestled with my prick, setting my nerve-endings afire with pleasure that was about to cause my balls to erupt in ecstasy. "I'm trying not to come."

"It's okay if you come," Mom said, smiling at me as if I were her baby boy seeking encouragement. "Go ahead, Mark, come in Mommy's cunt."

"Not yet," I hissed, shaking my head. "I want this to last."

"What's the matter," Mom whispered, her tone sexy and sly, "is your cum too good for Mommy's hot, little pussyhole?"

I groaned, whispering, "I just don't want to come yet."

Mom stroked the half of my cock that wasn't resting inside of the oven between her thighs. Soaked in pussy juice as it was, Mom's hand slid over my shaft with a slick ease as she whispered, "It's okay to come in Mommy's pussy. It's okay to fill Mommy with cum." Mom squeezed my cock with her fingers and pussy muscles. "My pussy can take it, baby. It's okay." Mom bit her lower lip, her face pouting in the sexiest of helpless ways. "And a good son should be able to stay hard for his mommy's pussy after he fills it with his jizz."

I moaned, the sound shaking and trembling as my mother slid her hand up my shaft to her pussy lips, then back down, reversing her grip to an underhanded caress. When she reached my sack, her fingers continued to slide over my honey-covered flesh, cupping my balls and holding my sensitive testes in her palm. Mom whispered, "Mark, I'm not on birth control," as the buzzing within my sack exploded outward.

"Oh, fuck!" I whimpered as my nuts released a tidal wave of pleasure that stiffened my entire body. My insides exploded in ecstasy, the rays of bliss escaping through my skin as my entire existence shattered in joy.

Mom continued holding my nuts--something mothers aren't supposed to do--her fingers working my balls and sack, coaxing my cream through my swelling shaft and into her unprotected purse.

"Give it to me," Mom whispered. "Give Mommy all of that good-boy cream."

"Jesus, fuck, Mom," I moaned, resting my weight on her slender body and pressing my chest into her tits. My hips moved forward, and the rest of my dick filled up her twat as my jizz lubed her walls. The length and thickness of my cock made her eyes widen as she took all of my size for the first time.

"Jesus," Mom whimpered. "Stay hard for Mommy, Mark. Ooh, fuck, stay hard for me." She continued caressing my balls as she whispered her dirty words. "Stay hard for this pussy. This is naughty, family pussy you're fucking. That's it; stay hard, oh, fuck, I can feel you getting harder for me. Mmm, fuck, that's right, baby--mmm, god damn, you're in my guts. Give me what I need. I knew--mmm--my son could stay hard for his mommy's pussy. Keep this big dick hard for me so you can make another mess in my fuckhole."

Keeping hard wasn't the problem, but every time I moved, or my cock twitched, or my mother's pussy walls kissed my knob, my hypersensitive glans wanted to scream and drop another load into my mother's soaking wet snatch.

Mom released my balls, and a long sigh escaped my lips. Her hands slid to my sides, where she grabbed my muscles just above my waistline and pulled me into her. She spread her knees, placed the soles of her feet on the outsides of my legs, and rowed her pussy down my cock, then up it, her walls sucking at me with a tight, silk-wrapped rubbery friction.

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"Oh, god," I whispered, my words trembling.

"Fuck me, baby," Mom moan-spoke, her words strained and focused, as if the amount of dick meat buried within her silky channel was making it hard for her to think. "Fuck me, Mark. Make us come with your incest-cock."

"Fuck, Mom, I need to read those god damn books you ordered," I said, bracing my palms on either side of her shoulders and pushing my body upward as my spine arched inward, keeping my groin pressed tightly to my mother's crotch.

"Those are my words, baby," Mom said, pumping her pussy onto my cock again. "The way you fuck me makes me say them."

I pulled my hips back, sliding my cock through my mother's tunnel, my knob's corona rubbing her pussy walls. I stopped when my tip lay buried within the shallowest portion of her little, pink hole. Taking a moment to enjoy my mother's wetness before I dipped my wick back into her yummy cunny, I flexed my cock, swirled my hips, and humped my prick back into the softness between my mother's thighs.

"Uh," Mom grunted.

Out.

"Ah," Mom sighed.

In.

"Uh," Mom grunted again.

Out and in, sigh and grunt, we created a rhythm between us that grew in tempo, then calmed, then grew, then calmed, my mother's pussy making kissing sounds whenever I pumped my prick between her lips. When I sped up, her little titties bounced, and when I slowed down, Mom was able to move her hips in concert with mine. I fucked her harder, pinning her to the bed, and I fucked her slowly as I lowered my lips to hers, our tongues dancing.

The longer we fucked, the harder Mom breathed, her panting driving me forward and feeding my desire for release. My bed creaked, the headboard slammed against the wall. Mom cheered me on with the pleasure-filled twitches of her lips and the quivering expressions that crossed her features. The grip of her cunny tunnel caressed me, and the soft cries that escaped her lungs spurred my hips to faster speeds. If I could have stopped time, I would have stayed inside my mother forever. Mom had a liquid treasure made of sin between her legs, and it bathed my cock in ecstasy. I came sooner than I had wanted to, with Mom matching my rhythm stroke for stroke as her skin turned a deep shade of sunset pink.

A throbbing sensation in my mother's pussy broke through my euphoria, letting me know that her orgasm was coming, followed by a hot, intense heat and a wash of creamy nectar. Mom's breasts heaved with her breathing, and high-pitched whimpers escaped her mouth. Her nipples seemed to constrict to a diamond-like hardness as they rubbed against my pectorals.

Above her, sliding into her, my knob pushing her walls apart with each stroke, the movements making my entire body tingle, my own orgasm began to break free. First in my thighs, then my balls, the soon-to-be tidal wave of pleasure rolled along the surface of my glans and flowed into my shaft, warming my heart and making my hairs stand on end. I was close. We both were. I braced my knees on the bed as I curled my arms around my mother's shoulders, and I rammed her pussy hard.

"Fuck," we moaned together, "shit, uh, uh, uh, oh, ooh, uh, fuck, I'm gonna come, gonna come, oh, god, you bastard--I'm coming!"

Mom's voice, my voice, everything blurred into one sound as Mom's pussy lips clamped down on my shaft, and her inner muscles hugged me as though they never intended to let me go. She threw her legs around my waist, locking her ankles below my ass and pulling me into her snatch as hard as she could, the little muscles in her thighs straining hard against my body. Within me, my world exploded. My balls constricted, my shaft swelled, and a river of cum filled my cock, every inch of it buzzing with the pleasure that I poured into my mother's cum-soaked cunny.

We held each other, her pubic hairs rubbing against my trimmed curls, my balls resting against her asshole. She grabbed my face, pulling my mouth to hers, and as my cum pooled within her guts, she slipped her tongue beyond my lips and made love to my mouth.

By the time our orgasms had ended, and Mom had another one right after her first, we were breathing hard and holding each other close. My cock softened after a time, slipping from her pussy and pulling out a thick wad of cream that dripped down to her asshole. I rolled to the side, grabbing one of Mom's hands, and together, we drifted off to sleep for a short time.

I woke later, in the dark, though the light had been on when I had fallen asleep. I wasn't alone. Something wet and soft slid against the underside of my shaft, pinning it to my abdominals with a gentle yet persistent pressure.

Above me, my mother panted, her breath falling in soft, huh, huh, huh, sounds. It sounded as if she had been doing this for a while. I didn't move. The memory of her fucking my father while he lay passed out spun through my mind. Maybe this is what makes her cream, I thought as my heartbeat rose, sparking a deep heat beneath my chest.

Mom continued pushing her pussy against my dick. I felt her soft folds spread over my shaft, the thick vein running along its length, finding my mother's slit and slipping into her crease. Every time she paused to rub her love nub against my member or glans, she released soft whines, her breath catching between each soft turn of her cunny across my crown. My breathing deepened, though if she knew that I had awakened, she said nothing, seeming happy to molest my cock in the darkness of my room.

Pressing down on my dick with her pussy and her knees spread put most of Mom's weight on my prick. The weight forced her slot to squeeze my shaft, compressing my thickness and causing a faint ache to pulse across my length. Mom leaned forward, easing some of the pressure as she placed her hands on my chest. She dug her fingers into my muscles, rolling her thumbs over my nipples and following that with something that made me gasp--she lowered her lips to my left nipple and took it into her mouth as her hair fell about my chest.

She licked me, pinched me, swirled her tongue around my areola, and she nibbled my pebbled nub, creating a tightness that sent gossamer lines of pleasure through my body. I moaned when she switched nipples, and I sighed when she pushed herself upward, slid her fingers down my stomach and through my pubic hairs, and curled her fingers around my cock. She shook my prick, squeezing and trying to bend my shaft, causing my back to arch. She raised her ass from my thighs, standing on her knees, and holding my slippery meat by the neck. She held me still as she lowered her pretty pussy to my knob and sank her pretty peach onto the bluntness of my erection.

"Uh-huh," she moaned... and I sighed as her tender heat enveloped my crown.

Mom leaned back, placing her hands on my thighs above my knees as she pushed her pussy forward. My shaft strained at the base, and the pressure of her pussy bending my cock caused my balls to tighten. Thick pulses of desire cascaded through my length, pushing precum through my shaft and into my mother's twat. The muscles behind her pussy walls caressed my hardness. She wiggled her ass, nestling my balls against the bottom cleft between her butt cheeks as she sank her pussy all the way down my throbbing cock.

"Yeah," Mom sighed once her pussy flesh was hugging the base of my prick.

I moaned as Mom dug her knees into the bed and raised her hips, then she lowered her pussy along my cock, then raised her pussy, then lowered it, slipping and sliding and wetting my dick with her juices. Her ass slapped my thighs and balls, creating an obscene plop, plop, plop, sound as she used my cock for her pleasure. I hissed as she dug her fingers into my legs, and I couldn't stop myself as I placed my hands on her thighs, gripping her hard as she dropped her pussy onto my pole over and over again.

"Mmm, mmm, oh, oh, oh," Mom whimpered as her ass slapped faster against my thighs. "Mmm, fuck, yeah, oh, god, that's a big dick, baby. That's a big dick for Mommy."

I wasn't on medication--Mom knew I was awake.

Mom rode me faster, harder, using my cock to satisfy every inch of her twat tunnel while my thickness spread her cunny walls without mercy. She changed the angle of her pussy strokes, the speeds, the depths, the softness and hardness of her thrusting hips. I paid attention to her movements and reactions, listening to her soft cries, her wild moans, her groans, her grunts, the changes in her breathing--I memorized every sound of pleasure that left her lips as she used my cock to make her pussy come.

"Thumb my clit," Mom whispered, her words rushed and fighting to break through her labored breathing. "Come on, Mark--oh, fuck--do Mommy a favor and thumb my clit." She whimpered. "Make Mommy come, baby. Make Mommy come hard."

I lifted my right hand, placing it on my mother's mound. Dampness covered her skin and pubic hair, and when my thumb slid over her slippery hood, I found her little jewel creamy with the same pussy juices that had saturated our groins.

Mom's little nub rolled beneath the tip of my thumb. She bucked harder against my cock when I squished her clit against her pubic bone, and she swung her hips in a wide, slutty circle when I swished her pearl from side to side. Mom's right hand swept up the inside my thigh, moving below her ass and cupping my balls, filling my sack with a light, airy tingle that danced across my skin. A buzzing started in my cock, intensifying as my mother--my motherfucking mother--matched her sack-fondling to my clit-caressing. Within a minute, the pleasure focused on my cock's head grew overwhelming. Mom's insides had melted, dripping her honey onto me with every pleasure-inducing ripple of her cunny muscles.

My body tensed in concert with my mother's. As I pressed down hard on her clit, swishing it from side to side, she pulled down on my sack while grinding her insides against my knob, creating an explosion within me that emptied my body of every last drop of jizz my balls could muster. I squeezed my ass, pushing my hips upward and forcing Mom into the air, my cock impaling her pussy and reaching into the warmth of her soft guts, searching for her heart.

"Jesus!" Mom cried out, coming loud and long, her hips moving back and forth in double time as her pussy rode my cock without mercy. Mom fell atop me after she came, kissing and licking my lips and mouth, my face, her primal actions drawing out the last of my incestuous sperm.

I didn't put up much of a fight when Mom crawled out of my bed and left my room. I grabbed my phone, checking the time, and my eyes widened when I saw that it was only midnight. That left us plenty of time to rest and recover. We'd be alone together tomorrow, mother and son, newly minted lovers.

Mom's Kinky Side

The last thing I remembered before waking up was my father yelling at me, his words long forgotten by the time I realized I had been dreaming, though my racing heartbeat got the message slower than my mind.

My door popped open, and Mom stuck her head into my room, her cheeks glowing from some new light within her body. "Make sure you shower before you come downstairs," Mom said. "You don't want your father smelling my pussy on you, do you?" She nibbled her bottom lip as she gave me a long look and smile, then she ducked away, reminding me of a teenager as the door closed behind her.

Fuck what my dad may have smelled; I wasn't going downstairs until he left the house. My phone rang with Jenna's ringtone. I grabbed it, swiped it, and said, "Yell-O?"

"I can't take it anymore," Jenna said. "I'm doing something tonight that's either going to make my dad let me have you or make him put me in therapy. I'll call you later."

"Wait," I said. "What?" But I was talking to empty space.

I stared at my phone, with my thumb hovering over the dial button, but one yawn later, I set my phone down and looked at my dick, which was standing up big and strong and fucking sore. I got out of my bed, naked and sticky with Mom's pussy juice, our cum, and our sweat. I pulled on a pair of shorts and headed to my bathroom, where after taking care of my morning ritual, I jumped in the shower and let the warm water wash away the layer of sex that coated my body. The sex residue melted away, sliding off me with a thick, prurient grip that reminded me of last night in vivid detail. After cleaning myself, I thought about my soreness and remembered that athletes used the cold to rejuvenate their bodies, so I turned off my hot water.

"Fuck this," I said after a second of freezing my nuts off and shrinking my dick. I jumped out of the shower, finished up, and returned to my room.

I dressed in shorts and a shirt, both loose, without my boxer briefs. I watched my clock tick away until eight in the morning, knowing that my father had left by then unless he had stayed home for some reason. I hadn't heard the garage door open, but then my father didn't always park in the garage either.

Oh, no, I thought. Was my father staying home today? Was that why Mom had told me to take a shower? No, no, no! He couldn't stay home when I could now have sex with my mother whenever I wanted. Fuck-fuck-fuck!

I hurried downstairs with my phone in my hand and my cock as soft as a feathered pillow. I hit the foyer and turned toward the kitchen, quick-stepping through the shortcut hallway and into the kitchen, where I found Mom sitting at the end of the breakfast table and no sign of my father anywhere. My eyes moved so fast that I had yet to take in what my mother was wearing this morning.

"What's the matter?" Mom asked, biting into a quartered pear. "You look anxious."

"Did Dad leave?"

Mom nodded, saying, "Did you need to tell him something?"

I shook my head, sighing, and I let my gaze settle over my mother, who wore her hair up and knotted at the back of her head, loose strands hanging in an artsy mess. Then my eyes drifted downward.

A creamy-white knitted cardigan adorned her body; the wooden buttons were undone straight down the center of her torso. On the table, where Dad ate his breakfast, lay a pair of pajama pants, a shirt, a bra, and a skimpy pair of lacy, thong panties. Mom sat with the chair angled toward the kitchen island, her left leg on the floor, her right on her seat, open and giving me a window to the blonde pussy between her thighs. She had her paper in her left hand and was eating her pears with her right, her white teeth snapping into the porous fruit, but none of the juices dripped past her full lips.

"Eat," Mom said, not looking at me. "If last night didn't wear you out, then you weren't trying hard enough."

I laughed to myself, the sound barely leaving my throat as my chest and shoulders shook. I picked up my phone, selected the camera, and took a picture of my mother. The first focused on her entire body, but for the next one, I zoomed in on her pussy, and for the last, Mom set down her fruit and lowered her hand between her legs, covering her inner and outer lips but not the hollow dip into her thighs. I snapped the picture as my cock grew semi-hard and continued to harden.

"Eat," Mom said.

I was hungry.

"Okay," I said.

A bowl.

A spoon.

Milk.

Cereal.

I finished my breakfast before Mom finished hers. I knew she felt me looking at her from where I sat in the guest of honor chair to her right when she smiled, silently chewing on her pair. I pushed my chair outward, the legs sliding against the wooden flooring, and I turned toward her, waiting.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"Like a baby," Mom said. "You?"

"Same," I said, curling and uncurling my fingers against my upper thighs. "I woke up kind of sore." My heartbeat rose, and my feet tingled, the pre-damp signs of perspiration beading my palms and the soles of my feet.

"I woke up sore as well," Mom said, the corners of her lips pulling into a smile. "I've missed that feeling."

"Is it always like that?"

Mom's smile deepened as she said, "It is when I'm allowed to be on top."

I swallowed, my heart thumping at the perverse question that came to my mind, and I asked, "Dad doesn't let you be on top?"

"Not often," Mom whispered, her next breath coming in deep and shaky. "I was your father's princess before we married, and now he treats me like a queen when all I want to be is his whore."

My cock turned to steel, the head mashing into my shorts, the pressure trying to compress my knob.

"Since your father won't let me be his whore," Mom said, her voice low and anxious, "will you make me be your whore, Mark? Will you do that for your mother?"

I grabbed my cock through my shorts to ease the ache pulsing through it. "Yes," I said, squeezing myself hard, but that only reminded me of how exposed my dick was without my boxer briefs holding it in place.

"Well," Mom said, setting down her paper and turning her green eyes on me. "Then you better make me do something before I have to get my butt upstairs and go to work."

Mom turned her chair to the right, the left side of the backrest connecting with the table. She brought her knees back and feet up and slid her butt to the edge of her seat, her asshole hung above empty space. That little pucker between the bottoms of her cheeks caught my attention, and again, I knew, deep down, that my mother was an anal virgin. There was no way Dad had ever touched his queen down there.

My tongue found Mom's asshole the moment I had my head between her legs. I pushed into her little crinkle, tasting her vanilla lotion and hints of her pussy juices that had slid down her perineum and between her cheeks.

"Ooh," Mom hissed, adding a throaty moan as her body tensed. "Ooh, that's something your father would never do to me."

"Good," I whispered, licking upward from her pristine backdoor and swirling my tongue around her outer labia, pushing against the edges of her swollen pussy lips. Even with a night's worth of sleep, I could tell my cock had given her pussy a beating.

"That's right," Mom said, her voice filled with the tight strain of pleasure. "Lick the soreness out of me."

I placed my hands on the backs of her thighs, and Mom slid her arms inside her legs and pushed her elbows against the backs of her knees, holding herself up and open for me. Her pussy petals came apart with a slow, methodical beauty. Sticky strands of her cooze juice stretched between her lips, snapping apart as I pushed my tongue through their silky webbing and into my mother's pussyhole. It was as though I had slipped my tongue into a honeypot, the delicious taste of her nectar sizzling across the surface of my tongue, making my mouth water.

"Oh, baby," Mom whispered, "you stretched me out last night. Mmm, am I still tight for you?" She squeezed her pussy muscles, kissing the sides of my tongues with her walls. "Is Momma's pussy still tight for her son?"

"Mmm," I moaned into her snatch. "As tight a pussy as I've ever tasted."

Mom laughed.

"The other one is only eighteen-years-old," I whispered.

"Ooh," Mom said, narrowing her eyes and puckering her lips. "I'm as tight as an eighteen-year-old. That's naughty, baby."

I smiled and tongue-fucked my mother's opening, licking the edges of her lips and then beyond her hole. Mom held her legs up, her body twitching and quivering whenever I wet her cunny lips or dipped beyond her pink rim and painted the insides of her clam with my spit. After I had bathed my face in her nectar, I brought my hands down her thighs, using my fingers to collect her juices in turns. My left hand dipped below my waistband, grabbed my cock, and lubed my thickness with her fuck-juices while I lowered my right forefinger to her asshole and pushed against the tight pucker of her backdoor.

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"Ooh, Mark, baby," Mom whispered, "you're getting nasty with me."

"My whore," I said, kissing her pussy right below her clit before taking it into my mouth and sucking. Mom bucked her hips, and she took in a sharp gulp of air as I prodded her rosebud, teasing her flesh inward and beginning to open her asshole. While playing with her butthole, I stroked my fat cock harder.

"Uh," Mom grunted when the tip of my finger pushed her pucker open. I didn't enter her chute. Instead, getting stuck between the rubbery ring of her sphincter. "Fuck me, Mark. Oh, fuck, put that big dick into your Mommy's pussy."

I growled, rising to my knees and pushing my shorts down my legs. My cock flopped upward, spitting translucent precum onto my mother's wet cunny. I grabbed my shaft by the base and nudged the head up to my mother's slit. Her wet folds created a puffy pie around the small lips of her inner slit. Inspired by the site of her kitty, I rubbed my knob through her lips several times, teasing her opening as she shuddered in anticipation of my first thrust. I pulled my cock back, brought it down, spanking her wet clit to the sound of a sexy slap that made my mother yelp.

"Come on, baby," Mom urged me with an almost angry whisper, her face intense and her expression predatory. She still had her knees back and her feet up, though she had moved her arms outside of her legs and had taken her ankles in her hands, creating a frame for her face and tits as her cardigan fell to the sides. "Put your head into my hole and then give me your cock all at once." Mom tightened her jaw. "Make me feel it, Mark. Hurt me, baby."

My heart did a double-pump, swelling to twice its size as my mother ordered me to dominate her with my cock. I heard her thoughts, the sounds behind her eyes, and trembling in her expression chanting: Control me with your dick. Abuse me with your dick. Fuck this little pussy into submission. Do it-do it-do it.

I wet my cock with her pussy juices one more time. Mom nodded, and she nodded faster when I spat into my hand and lubed my shaft. She gathered spit, holding it on the tip of her tongue, and I let her dump it into my palm. I used her slippery juices to grease my knob and shaft one more time, making it glisten with a menacing glare.

My knob appeared too big for my mother's muff when I eased the tip into the hot hole at the bottom of her slit. I had my knees forward and my ass back so I could mash my groin against my mother's at the end of my first deep stroke. Mom trembled as I nudged my glans past her lips until they closed over my corona. I shivered, then took my shaft by the base, pulling back on my dick skin to make my cock as tight as possible, though it was already as hard and straight as a bar of iron.

"Are you sure?" I whispered. "Are you sure you want all of it, Mom?" I licked my lips, my skin tingling, and my chest swelling. "That's a lot of dick for your little pussy."

"Yeah," Mom pouted. "I want it all--uh!"

I had thrust my hips forward the moment Mom had said "all."

Mom's tight, wet insides fought against my cock, straining then breaking, her velvety softness yielding to the hardness filling her hole. She arched her back and bucked her hips forward, her face breaking with that pleasure-pain mix that most porno girls fake unless they're in some asshole's one-bedroom apartment, getting a gritty, unsupervised fuck. My cock tingled as it slid through my mother's pink pudding, her heat wrapping around my stiff soldier with a lover's caress. I moaned. She groaned. When my mound smacked into hers and my balls spanked her asshole, she released a tight, "Ahhh," as her eyes rolled back in her head.

"You okay?" I whispered.

"Fuck me," Mom said through gritted teeth. "Oh, fuck me, baby, and make me feel every inch of that big dick."

I placed my hands on my mother's hips, digging my fingers into her flesh as I pulled my cock out to the tip and thrust back into her, bucking my groin against her pussy with a loud slap of flesh. Mom's body jumped back, but I held her in place, my arms tensing, as did she. I pulled out and thrust back in, forcing heavy gasps from my mother's throat as I piston-fucked my dick through my mother's tiny twat.

"Uh, uh, uh, shit," my mother moaned. "Uh, uh, uh, shit!"

Mom widened her eyes with each inward thrust, then narrowed them as I hit bottom. She glared at me, the glint was sexy, and her hunger melted away the walls holding back my orgasm. On a very hard thrust, she let go of her feet and grabbed my hands, her ankles falling to either side of my head. I had to let go of her hips and grab the sides of her chair's backrest. Her hands were now on my forearms near my elbows. The chair legs scraped against the floor as my thrusts pushed it backward, and I pulled it forward, keeping my mother's blonde pussy meat tight around my cock at all times. Mom's moans grew louder, stronger, her eyes closing and her mouth opening. Her pussy took every inch of cock that I could feed it, and her lungs released her pleasure with each deep-dicking stroke into her helpless twat.

"Oh, fuck, ah--uh-uh-uh," my mother uttered, whimpering and whining, her voice straining to capture her emotions as her pussy tightened around my prick. Cream dripped from her, and a wet melody played between her pink folds. The nasty sounds drove my mind insane while the juicy tunnel between my mother's thighs sent electric bliss throughout my glans' nerve endings.

I started changing my angles of penetration and varying my speed, as Mom had done last night while riding me. Loud moans left her lips, followed by surprised gasps and high-pitched yelps whenever I bottom-out within the creamy well of her pussy channel. "Oh, baby, Mark--oh-oh-oh--I'm gonna come! Oh, god, no, it feels too good. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, no--I can't, I can't--I can't take it--oh!"

Mom came, crying out and trembling, her lips quivering as she panted hard. Cream dripped from her, thick and wet, spraying out around my dick. She squirted her cum onto my balls. Juices dripped down her asshole. My cock slid through her cunny tunnel, the tightness of her walls rubbing me here and there, though her body's juices made it easier for me to glide in and out of her spasming twat.

"Oh, god, no--again!" Mom whimpered, this time sobbing as another orgasm washed through her insides. Her cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head at me, tears in her eyes. "No more, baby. No more. No more, no more--oh, god--again!"

I was close to coming, but Mom was shaking and crying real tears. I waited for her orgasm to end, and just when her pussy tightened as if she was about to spill even more cum over my cock, I pulled out of her and stood. Her feet dropped to the floor, and as weak as she was, Mom leaned forward and wrapped her full lips around my cock like a good girl. Sucking, licking, and jerking followed as she cleaned her cum from my prick, not stopping even after my balls tingled and my body tensed, and I threw back my head and came, filling my mother's mouth--my nasty, naughty, slutty mother's mouth--full of my hot, incestual seed.

"Ah, ah, ah," I gasped. "Fuck, Mom. Fuck--you're the best mom ever!"

"Mwah, mwuh, mwuh, mwah," Mom uttered around my cock, sucking me hard, her sounds wet and sloppy while she jerked me off with one hand and coaxed the last of my nut out of my sack with the other. I fell to the floor after I came. My softening cock stretched between my mother's lips and plopped out of her mouth with a loud, naughty sound.

We sat in the kitchen for several minutes, regaining our breaths. Finally, Mom said, "I need to get to work." She stood on shaky legs and left the kitchen, walking funny and bracing herself against the wall.

I lay there for a while until I decided I had better take another shower and rest up for Mom's lunch break. There was a lot more sex to come before Dad came home and then, even after.

I showered, I rested, then I decided to work out. We had a spare upstairs master suite that dad and I had converted into a small gym. We had a treadmill, an Olympic weight bench, dumbbells, a pull-up, and dip machine, and just enough room to use each machine without having to tuck anything in. I skipped cardio and performed a lightweight/many reps routine, working hard, but not so hard I wouldn't be able to give my mother the fucking she deserved.

What a weird thought, I thought. Giving my mother the fucking she deserved. Never in my life had I imagined myself thinking something like that for any reason, but now it seemed as natural as breathing.

I took another shower, humming "Never Going to Give You Up" by Rick Astley.

Jeans and a plain black T-shirt made up my outfit, and I was downstairs, sitting on the couch with my phone off to the side when I heard Mom's office door open and close. I heard the opening and closing of her bedroom door; then it opened again about ten minutes later.

Mom came downstairs, dressed in a high-on-the-thigh, gray tennis skirt. If she bent over, she'd be showing muff. She also wore a dark blue polo shirt with a white collar and trim. The fabric hugged her littlish tits, and by the way they bounced and her nipples stuck out, I could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. She still had her hair worn back, though it looked neater than this morning. She had her purse on her left arm and her sunglasses on her face, and as she cleared the last stair, she tossed me the keys to her Mercedes SUV.

"I want to go out for lunch today," Mom said, heading for the door. "To Biggie's Burgers. You can drive."

"Your car?"

"Yeah," Mom said, "it's harder for most people to look through my windows than yours when we're driving. You never know when we may need our privacy."

I followed my mother outside. We were driving through our neighborhood five minutes later, on our way to the fast-food drive-through with Mom's purse in the backseat and my cock growing in pants every time she tilted her head to look at my crotch.

"How are things with Jenna?" Mom asked.

"Good," I said, shrugging, my eyes glancing at her lotioned legs. "She's frustrated."

"And you?"

"Not as much as I used to be." I smiled. "But, it's hard when I'm around her."

"You are being careful?"

I nodded.

"You've done stuff with Jenna," Mom said. "Tell me, what have you done?"

"Kissed," I said, my cheeks warming enough to tell me that they were turning red.

"Aw, what's the matter?" Mom asked. "Why so shy?"

I shrugged.

"Have you... sucked Jenna's titties?" Mom asked, licking her lips. "They look nice. Are they as cute as her pussy?"

"Yes," I said, my heartbeat rising and my cock swelling. "I've sucked them."

"Have you touched that pretty little pussy she was showing off in my living room yesterday?"

"Yes," I said, my voice shaky.

"Have you fingered it?"

"Yes."

"Tasted it?" Mom whispered. She sounded fucking hot.

"Yes," I said, lowering my voice as my cock pushed against my pants with a slow uncoiling of flesh.

"Has she gone down on you yet?" Mom asked, her voice turning throaty.

"She's waiting for our first time together, but she jerks me off."

"Has she ever jerked you off while you were driving?" Mom's right hand slid along her shoulder strap, tugging it further outward with every pass.

"Not yet," I said, and when Mom sat there staring at me through her sunglasses, I added, "but you're going to. Right now."

"Are you making me?"

"Yeah." My cock thickened, making my jeans uncomfortable. "I'm making you, Mom."

Mom pulled her shoulder strap over her head, letting it fall back against the seat. It was only then I noticed how loose the seatbelt was, and I immediately slowed down--not that I was driving fast in my mother's Mercedes--but I slowed down nonetheless. She turned toward me, pulling her left leg up, her pleated tennis skirt unable to hide the bright pink triangle of her lacy panties, the coverage so small that the start of her thong dipped between the lower portion of her pussy lips.

"Like them?" Mom asked, her eyes following mine between her legs as we sat at a stop sign. "I bought them for you."

"I love them."

A car honked behind me, and I drove off.

"Mark, if you're going to make me do naughty things to you," Mom whispered, "then take your time driving to Biggie's Burgers."

I took my time.

Mom leaned over, saying, "Shit," as she unbuckled her seatbelt completely. I eased up on the gas, driving as slow as I could without becoming too suspicious. She leaned toward me, her hands moving over my jeans, her touch tickling me through the thickness of my pants as she ran her right hand up my thigh. Her hand dipped inward, caressing my inner thigh, then sliding between my legs, cupping my cock and balls through my pants.

"What do we have here?" Mom teased, adding pressure to her caress as she played with my belt. "What are you stuffing your pants with to make your bulge so big?"

I could hear it in my mother's voice: She didn't want her dirty talk to be a monologue, so I said, "I'm stuffing my pants with the big cock you gave me."

Mom purred, squeezing my balls and causing my cock to bend against my jean's threaded fibers. She tore my leather belt apart, unfastened the buckle, and then the button holding my pants together. I had to lift my hips as Mom worked the zipper down and my pants open, fishing out my bent pole until it straightened. She spat on my knob, then gave my warm meat a few rod-wetting strokes with her right hand before she took my thick cock in her left hand and faced forward again.

"Do you want me to fist-pump this big dick, Mark?" Mom spread her legs and pulled her skirt up. "Is that what you want your mother to do for you, baby?"

"Yeah," I said, stopping at a light and looking around the street. There were other SUVs around, but Mom had tinted her windows as dark as the law allowed, maybe darker, but one look at Mom had always been enough for a police officer to let her off with a warning (not that she got pulled over often, just maybe more than most people). "I want you to get your hand wet and jerk off your son's hard cock."

My heartbeat hammered beneath my chest.

"You're a bad fucking boy," Mom purred, taking her hand from my cock and placing it between her legs. She rubbed the front of her panties, digging her fingers between her lips and forcing the dental floss up into her silky folds. After several soft sighs, Mom lifted her hand to her mouth and spat in her palm. Smiling, she reached over with her left hand and gripped my cock's crown as she lowered her right hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy some more.

The lights stayed green for me as Mom stroked my cock, varying the tightness of her grip and adjusting how much skin she pulled up around my knob. She jerked me fast, then slow, then she tugged my cock in her direction. She played with her pussy the entire time, using the same rhythm on her clit as she did on my prick. She laughed when I pulled into a residential street a block away from Biggie's Burgers, and she started a slow, teasing stroke that spread my precum into her palm.

"Baby," Mom pouted, "I'm hungry."

"Okay," I said, turning back onto the street and driving to our destination--but looking back, I don't think Okay was what Mom had wanted me to say, because...

Mom spoke again once we pulled up to the drive-through speaker, saying, "Oh, I can't wait for a thick, juicy burger, Mark, but that's okay because there's a big piece of meat right here, isn't there?" Mom turned her upper body toward me, angling her knees in the same direction. She lowered her head to my lap, taking my glans into her open mouth with one quick swallow, followed by an mmm sound.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned into the drive-through speaker.

"Hello," a young woman's voice said through the speaker. "Welcome to Biggie's Burgers, home of the biggest burgers in the world. How may I help you this afternoon?"

"Uh," I half-moaned, "that's a good question. Mom, what do you want?"

"Mmm, umm, mmm, mwah," Mom hummed around my cock, every sound she uttered came out thick and slobbery.

"Um," I said, my voice tightening, "I'll take two of your Jumbo Burgers with extra sauce and meat."

Mom purred around my cock, her blowjob turning sloppy and wet and her hungry sounds growing louder. Spit slid down my shaft as Mom opened her jaw wide, wiggling her head side-to-side as she fought to take down more of my hard salami.

"I'm sorry, sir, did you want an extra patty on those burgers?"

"No," I said, gritting my teeth as my knob slipped into Mom's throat. She gagged, sputtered, and kept going. "Just--uh--extra bacon."

My cock curved into Mom's throat, the new strain against my shaft tightened my balls. Her lips made contact with my short hairs, and Mom gagged again, choking and coughing. She tried to come up, but my mother's strain had ignited a buzzing in my nuts that wasn't going away. As I settled our order, I put my right hand on Mom's head and held her down on my cock. Mom fought to get up, coughing again, and I thanked the drive-through girl for our order and moved forward in line. Mom sputtered, her throat grinding against my knob, and then she palmed my nuts, and I lost it. My shaft swelled with cum. A moment later, I made a sticky deposit into my mother's tummy.

Mom was still gulping down my seed when we pulled up to the window. The drive-through attendant, a petite Latina teen--who I think I recognized from school--looked into Mom's SUV. Her hands went to her mouth, and her dark eyes grew wide. I smiled with as much of an I'm sorry expression on my face as I could manage, but she wasn't looking at my face, thank god. Mom dragged her lips up my cock, stopping with my glans still in her mouth, and she pumped my cock several times, pulling out the last of my spunk.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed to the attendant as I tried to put my cock away, which hadn't gone soft, not with this girl looking into the car, right at my dick. Her eyes never ventured to my face.

Mom wiped her mouth and grabbed her purse from the backseat, and then she asked, "I'm sorry, dear, how much was that again?"

Back on the street, Mom asked, "That was fun." She looked at my lap. "You're still excited."

"It won't go down," I said.

"Your cock won't go down, baby," Mom said. "Talk to me properly. So, did getting caught turn you on?"

"Did it turn you on?"

"Yes," Mom said, laughing. "These are the things your father would never let me do. We'd come so close to being nasty, but he could never follow through. I've been thinking about something lately..." Mom looked out the window. "We need to make a quick stop. I need to buy something."

"Where are we going?" I asked; the smell of the double cheeseburgers and crispy fries had already made my mouth water.

"Pink's Playground," Mom said. "It's a strip club."

"I," I said, cocking my head, "know what it is."

"You do?"

"We're going there as soon a Billy turns eighteen, I said, mentioning the youngest of my friends. Speaking of friends, I hadn't talked to anyone but Jenna since my mother had started teasing me. My mother fucking owned me. Shit.

"Do you know the way?" Mom asked.

"I do," I said.

"There's something I've always wanted to do in that place, and you're father almost let me once, for my birthday, but..." Mom shook her head. "Drive on."

I had no idea what Mom planned to buy or do at Pink's Playground, but I had visions of a stripper lineup, each girl topless and wearing a micro G-string that glowed with the power of neon sex. White girls, black girls, Asian girls, Mexican girls, Indian Girls--they danced in my head--a potluck of pussy that Mom wanted to buy for me. Jenna tried to poke her head into my fantasy, which only made me harder. Lap dances weren't cheating. As it turned out, dancing pussy was not on my mother's shopping list.

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