Loving Aunt Brooke and my Mother, An evening at home with mum and Aunt Brooke

Incest stories, Loving Aunt Brooke and my Mother, An evening at home with mum and Aunt Brooke, When I looked across I saw she was staring. She had that look on her face, expression all hot-eyed and hungry as she worked at her clit.

Desire surged inside me. “Come here,” I said.

“In a minute,” she told me with a thrust of her chin in my direction. “I just want to watch for a little while longer.”

I glanced down at my aunt, her hand cranking my cock at its root, her lips and tongue working their magic before I looked back to my mother. “I love this,” I groaned.

From the big lounge chair, my mother gave me a nod. “Me too,” she said. “I’m glad we started. It’s lovely to do this with you.”

My eyes soaked up the image of my mother’s large breasts jiggling as her fingers played her clit. She was casually sprawled, thighs wide, one leg over the arm of the chair, indecently flaunting herself with no inhibition, vulva smooth after a recent waxing, gaze intent while her sister slurped and slobbered down at my cock. My mother had scooped her boobs out of the filmy negligee, the bootlace straps over her shoulders, nipples long and thick in the circles of their puckered areolae.

I gasped out, “Incredible,” as my aunt came up and showed me a grin.

“Dirty fucker,” Aunt Brooke said, smirking while slowly jacking my length.

“Get on it,” I growled a moment before I pulled her in for a kiss.

As our tongues swirled, my aunt shifted around. She straddled my thighs, my hands on her waist, the kiss rolling on.

I mauled Brooke’s breasts as she reached down to take hold of my cock. “Big fucking tits,” I breathed, hot with desire for my aunt.

“You like them, don’t you, Alan,” she said, holding my cock upright. Aunt Brooke chuckled and smiled before adding, “Typical bloke. Goes silly for pair of tits.”

As my aunt rubbed her pussy over my dome, I sucked at a nipple, sucking it between my teeth before doing the same to its twin. Her big spongy-taut boobs were heavy in my palms as her molten embrace squeezed my girth.

I was inside my aunt. We were fucking again.

“But they’re fantastic,” I moaned when she started to move. “I love watching them bounce. It’s awesome being with you. Being with her. I can’t get enough of you both.”

With my aunt riding my cock, I looked across to my mother again. She was slack in the face and staring at us, eyes vague, lost in the sub-space of carnal delight while her sister’s buttocks slapped with metronomic regularity against my thighs.

My mother gazed as my aunt really made it work for herself. She groaned and gasped, squeaking her pleasure, wispy blonde tendrils coming loose from the grip holding her long hair in place. Brooke’s breasts bounced and swung as she fucked at my length, my hands full of her buttocks as I watched my mother slide two fingers into her pussy.

My mother sobbed out delight, the middle- and third-digits going in up to the knuckle. She winced and groaned and jerked in spasm, wailing “Oh God,” while fucking those fingers. “I can’t get over how sexy it is to see you together,” added my mother, her stare holding mine. “I can’t bloody believe we’re doing this. Me and my son … My sister…”

“Come here, mum,” I told her again.

She shook her head. “No, I said I wanted to watch.” Her thumb strummed her clit when she said it, a grimace of what I took to be absolute joy twisting her face.

“Oh, fuck,” Brooke moaned, claiming my focus as she continued to rut. “Play with my bottom, Alan,” she said through a gasp. “Tickle my arse.”

I used my aunt’s own lust to lubricate a finger, smearing the buttery gloop from my cock so I could spread it over her sphincter. Brooke snorted and groaned when I teased her back there. “God, that’s lovely,” she told me, eyes lit up with mischief. “Slide it in. Finger my dirty-hole, Alan. Fuck my cunt and diddle my arsehole.”

It was trademark Brooke. Typical sewer-mouthed filth. A sign she was working up to a climax.

In response, I pushed the tip of the finger against her body’s natural resistance. I knew just what to say, just how to tease her for her maximum pleasure and, as I slid the finger past her slippery ring, I whispered out, “I should fuck you there, Aunty Brooke. I should fuck your arse.”

“You dirty fucker,” she groaned as she ducked in to kiss my mouth.

We kissed, which is about my favourite thing to do while fucking either my aunt or my mother. For me, the kissing is an expression of feeling even more intimate than being inside them. It’s a connection. Personal. A means to communicate love. And I do love my aunt, the sex just makes it more special between us.

When the kiss broke, Brooke slowed the tempo. She rose up-and-down, gently using her sex, a hand going behind so she could splay her cheeks.

“Dig that finger in deep,” my aunt said with a smile.

I probed her rectum and held her stare, her pussy gliding over my shaft while time hung suspended.

“I love you,” I whispered.

Aunt Brooke paused and then smiled, soft and tender. “I love you, too,” she told me before she kissed me again.

It got more urgent between us as that kiss went on, my aunt starting to ride with more vigorous action, the dirty-talk spilling from her mouth as she closed her eyes and concentrated on getting her climax.

“Fuck me, Alan,” gurgled Aunt Brooke. “I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day. Make it good for me, baby. Let me ride you. Get that finger right into my arsehole. Stir it up back there.”

The sex noises came out of my aunt in a babble of nonsense obscenities, our bodies slap-thwacking together while I slid my free hand over her body. Her skin felt so smooth under my palm, the texture of a healthy young woman, muscles firm, her breasts and buttocks taut yet pliant with that peculiar spongy softness of a female body in its prime.

The sounds Brooke made were a sign she was close. She muttered and mumbled the foul profanities, lost in her joy, a hand down between her legs so she could go at her bean and, as Brooke diddled and I worked the finger into her anus, I looked towards the chair where I expected to see my mother still using her fingers while watching me and my aunt. But when I looked over, my mother had moved. Now she was standing close by, her hand between her thighs, the hem of the diaphanous negligee draped over her wrist.

“Mum,” I said, surprised.

“You’re fucking my sister,” she said in reply.

I gulped and nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s so rude. It’s wicked,” she said, the words coming out clotted and thick.

When I replied with, “You started it,” my mother grinned and then winced. She let out a moan and wriggled around, hand sawing at her sex while she groaned and rocked her pelvis back-and-forth. My mother sighed and mewled, rubbing her pussy over her hand as she squirmed at the pleasure.

“I did, didn’t I, Alan.” A statement, not a question. My mother moaned again, sucking on her lower lip for a couple of seconds before adding a hoarse, “You needed a push.”

“Kiss me,” I gasped on a surge of emotion.

She did. My mother moved closer and knelt on the sofa, leaning in so her breasts swung within reach. I pulled my hand away from my aunt’s bottom, cupping the weight of my mother’s tits in my palms.

The sensations I experienced as my aunt fucked her urgency over my cock, the heavy roundness of my mother in my hands, and the swirl of her tongue brought forth the rush and I came, spunk flooding my aunt, her squeal loud while I carried on kissing my mum.

In an unnecessary announcement, Brooke wailed, “You’re coming! Oh God no! Please, not yet!”

I didn’t care. Not in the moment. The pleasure was too sublime, my delight spurting into my aunt while my mother’s tongue squirmed in my mouth, breast-flesh spilling over my hands.

“You fucker,” Brooke squealed, bouncing robustly. “I’m close, so fucking close.”

“Keep going,” I told her. “It’ll stay hard.”

Brooke said it through gritted teeth, her bottom slapping against me while she snarled, “You fucking better stay hard. I’m so fucking horny I’d gang-bang a room full of cocks.”

It wasn’t an idle boast from me. Not at twenty. Not with those two women involved in the fray. My mother was forty-seven, Brooke over two decades younger. My aunt was twenty-five, closer to me in age than she was to her sister, both of them of a type: thick-middle women; sexy and bold and sassy. Beautiful girls all full and ripe, rounded where it counts. Quick to smile and easy to tumble into bed, as I’d found out. If either one was involved, I could easily come twice on the bounce. With them both present, I reckon I could have fucked all night.

My mother slumped down beside us, legs going wide, her gaze on my face.

She played with her folds and sighed, “She’s going to come. You’ve come inside her and she’s riding your cock. God this is wrong. It’s so bloody naughty.”

I looked at my mother and saw her gazing at me, her expression awed, her tone filled with wonder as my aunt’s pussy squelched and farted onto my cock, the gloop sliding out cold and wet on my balls.

“Thank you,” I said into her stare. “I didn’t know I could feel this way.”

My mother’s puzzled frown confronted me. “Why thank me, darling?”

Aunt Brooke was rubbing her clit and riding my cock, mewls of excitement issuing forth when I groaned to my mother, “It never would’ve happened if it wasn’t for you.”

Pausing mid-masturbation, my mother rolled her eyes. She tutted, clicking her tongue against her palette before grinning and saying, “It was obvious you fancied her, Alan. All I did was give a little encouragement.” Her fingers started moving again as she went on to add, “My sister wouldn’t have made any move, but I could tell she was interested. I could see it as plain as day.”

My mother went at her pussy, fingers squeezing a breast, the tips of the grasping digits teasing a teat of elongated flesh while she witnessed the violence of her sister’s orgasmic bliss.

I hung on to my aunt when she went in to the judders and groans. If I hadn’t gripped her waist and held on through the storm there was a very real chance an enthusiastic bounce may have taken her up off my dick where the meaty weight of her downthrust might do some sort of hideous damage to my cock.

“Ooh,” wailed Aunt Brooke when she pulled me in close. Engulfed in her cleavage, I still heard her cry, “It’s nice … It’s sweet … It’s good … I’m coming!”


When her orgasm tapered my aunt slid off my lap. Then she lay there sucking in air, sprawled and ungainly, a pearl of jizm at her core.

“Fuck … Jesus … Wow,” gurgled Aunt Brooke. “That was fucking gorgeous.” She grinned and rolled her eyes in an extravagant gesture of appreciation. Looking at me she dabbed at her pussy and fingered the cum. “But look at the mess,” added my aunt. She held up a hand to show her fingers glistening with spunk. “Fuck, Alan, had you been saving it up?”

Beside me, my mother chuckled. “That’s why I put the throw on the sofa,” she said. “He’s always come like a fountain.”

Embarrassed, I asked my mother, “What do you mean? How do you know?”

A laugh blurted out of her before my mother smirked. “Darling,” she purred, brushing the backs of her fingers over my cheek. “I’ve seen it for myself a few times over these past couple of weeks. Don’t forget I’m your mother and have been doing your laundry for twenty years. I’ve tidied your bedroom,” she said, eyebrows arched high. “I’ve found the towels and tissues.”

My mother laughed in amusement when I let out a groan of chagrin. She moved, shifting her bottom against the sofa so she could lean in close. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Alan,” she told me while staring into my eyes. “It’s normal to wank. I’ve done it, too. I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve played with myself plenty of times. God,” she sighed with a quick shake of her head, “the filthy fantasies…”

“Did you ever think about fucking Alan?” asked my aunt. “Before all this, I mean.”

I looked at her after she said it, saw her big boobs and the tiny tuft crowning her vulva, the hair she had left down there like a light puff of smoke. She looked beautiful laid out like she was. Used and sullied and sexy. Brooke smiled, eyes bright with enquiry as she looked at my mother, desire for her a resurgent tickle down at my cock.

“Well, yes,” my mother admitted. “Incest has always been a favourite of mine.” She gave a half-shrug, focus going from her sister to me and then returning to Brooke. “I’ve read stories online, even watched a couple of things on a porn site.” My mother paused and glanced at her lap. She let out an embarrassed little chuckle. “I’ve wanked and thought about both of my sons having me at the same time…”

Aunt Brooke gasped. Eyes wide she asked, “Have you fucked Jason, too?”

My mother was quick with her denial. “No, it’s only been fantasy, Brooke.”

“So why Alan?”

My mother shrugged again. “You know why.”

Aunt Brooke didn’t reply for several long moments. Then she nodded, a moue of acceptance pursing her lips. “You thought I was going to shag him.”

I watched the exchange like a volley at a tennis match as the sister’s spoke, the pair batting words back-and-forth.

“You were as bad as each other,” my mother put in with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “He was horny sniffing around you.” She backed up the eye-roll with a snide chuckle. “And you … dear little sister … Well, you were just about pushing your arse into his face. It was obvious you liked the attention. Even if it was from your nephew.”

“Fuck, Elissa,” breathed my aunt, “I was so fucking randy. You’re not the only one who’s gone without cock, you know.”

My mother went up onto her knees, then leaned over me and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Well, we’re not going without now,” she said, looking at me. “Have you got any strength left for your mother, Alan?” she asked, expression expectant.

Lust surged when I saw the look on her face, those boobs swinging free. She gave my cock a few gentle tugs and smiled at me.

When I replied, I heard the desire. “Oh yes, mum. For you…”

“My sweet darling boy,” my mother crooned, stroking my cheek. “Come up to bed. Come with me, darling.”

When she stood up, my mother held out a hand. I took it, rising up to stand beside her.

To Brooke, my mother said, “Do you mind if it’s just me and Alan?”

My aunt waved a hand in an airy gesture. “God no, Elissa. I need to get in the bath. Then I should get on the internet and look at that property website.”

“You don’t have to rush finding a place,” my mother replied. “You’re welcome here. There’s room, after all.”

Brooke cupped a hand between her legs as she too got up out of the sofa. She muttered an obscenity, something about the volume of goo I’d pumped into her pussy.

“Thanks, Elissa,” said my aunt. “I appreciate it. Everything,” she added with a pointed look at me. “Putting me up, the sex…”

“The sex,” my mother said on a sigh. She squeezed my hand. “Are we crazy for doing it, Brooke? Am I wicked?”

I wondered if my aunt heard the guilt and apprehension in my mother’s tone. I glanced at my mother, returning the squeeze while Brooke shook her head.

“It’s taking some getting used to,” Brooke replied. “I mean, fucking my nephew…? Doing threesomes with you…?” My aunt paused and threw a glance my way. “But I love it,” she added. “It’s just so fucking dirty. So fucking bad it makes me wet. God, if anyone ever found out…” A moment later my aunt let out a laugh. Then, with her hand still between her thighs, she said, “Anyway, I’m off for that bath. You two have fun!”

I watched her buttocks jiggle as Aunt Brooke walked away. It was great to see her fleshy globes and the feminine swing of her hips.

“I love you, mum,” I said as dark urges welled up inside.

“I heard you say that to Brooke, too, Alan.” My mother blinked a few times, gazing at me, her expression matching the accusation in her tone. “Do you mean it when you say it to me?”

Surprised and more than a little taken aback, I looked at my mother. Because of the difference in height, she had her face tilted, eyes wide as she gazed at me. In what I took to be a self-conscious gesture, my mother adjusted the nightie, covering up, hiding her boobs.

Concerned by my mother’s demeanour, I said, “Yes, mum; I mean it.”

“And what about her?” My mother pointed towards the ceiling, indicating her sister in the bathroom above.

It was a snap decision — truth or a lie?

I went with the truth.

“I love Aunt Brooke, too,” I said with a nod. “I love both of you, mum.”

My mother’s eyes dropped away from my face. “Oh,” she said, the word disconsolate.

Picking up on her anxiety, I moved until we were square-on to each other. Then, with the tip of a finger under her chin, I tilted her face.

“But you’re my mum,” I said. “I love you because you’re my mother.” Then, around the emotion clogging my throat, I added, “But I love you another way, too. It’s hard to explain. But I love you like you’re a girlfriend.” I was blushing when I continued with, “Now, at home with you, now that we’re together, it’s like I could be your husband.” Embarrassed by the cheesy ridiculousness o what I’d said, I let out a snort. “Shit, that sounds so stupid,” I said.

“I understand though, Alan. And I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” My mother went up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on my mouth. “It’s lovely,” she said. “Beautiful, Alan.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” I growled, hands on her waist. I kissed her, the heat rising inside me, my cock at half-mast.

My mother returned the kiss, groaning into my mouth, her frontage pressed against me. “I don’t want to fuck,” she said. “After hearing you say that, the thing about love, I want to make love, Alan. I don’t want this time to be all rushed and sweaty.”

I seized the moment by saying, “All right, but I want to see you, mum. I want you to take off your nightie. I want you naked this time.”

I saw her throat work, trepidation in her expression. “I’m forty-seven,” sighed my mother. “I’m not a skinny girl, Alan. I’ve had three children.”

Without a verbal response I kissed her again. Gentle and tender, a sign of love. My mother moaned softly, squirming, my cock rigid between us.

“Come on,” I told her, turning away.

She followed, letting me lead her by one hand. Compliant, my mother came up stairs, moved over the landing, and past the bathroom where my aunt was drawing a bath. It’s a big house — five bedrooms and a home-office upstairs. I led my mother into her room and let go of her hand. Closed the door to give us privacy. Went to the bed where I turned on the lamp sitting on the three-tier drawer set near the head.

After lowering the blind and closing the curtains, I faced my mother and saw she hadn’t moved. She was standing near the door, edgy and nervous, chewing her lower lip while she eyed me with what looked like suspicion.

I stared at my mother and, with kindness tempered with steel, said, Take it off, mum.”

“Alan,” she murmured.

“Naked,” I said as soon as she started to speak. “I want this time to be skin on skin.”

In what was only just above a whisper, my mother said, “I’m not young like Brooke.”

“No, you’re different,” I said, “but you’re still beautiful, mum.”

I could tell she was close to balking. My mother was anxious, scared to show herself naked, comparing herself to her younger sister, my aunt who was closer to my age than hers.

“You have to say that, Alan. You’re my son.”

Sighing, exasperated, I walked around the bed. “But it’s still true. So what if you’re older? You take care of yourself. You’re pretty, got lovely hair … And I think your boobs are fantastic, mum. You’ve got a great body. You should be proud. Look,” I said, grabbing my dick. “Doesn’t this give you a clue about how sexy I think you are?”

My mother giggled when she looked at my length. Then, expression melting, eyes going vague, she breathed, “That’s a gorgeous cock. My baby’s grown up now, isn’t he? Big and strong and handsome.”

“Touch it, mum,” I said, keeping my voice low and hypnotic. “Feel how hard it is.”

My mother let out a sigh, fingers enclosed around my girth.

She stroked it and muttered, “Do you really want me to take off my nightie?”

Through a groan of pleasure, I said, “I really do, mum. Naked together. In your bed … We can pretend we’re married,” I breathed at the end, kissing my mother again.

Like before, the suggestion we could be a couple — a husband and wife — had an effect.

“That’s so lovely,” cooed my mother, smiling at me. “All right,” she added, breaking away. “But don’t forget, I’m not as young as Brooke.”

My mother moved away a few paces. She went towards the bed, stopped, threw a look over one shoulder, and then slid one skinny bootlace strap down her arm. She kept her back to me, the other strap slipping down so the whole diaphanous nightie whispered to the floor.

In an unthinking act, I started to crank my cock, thrilled by the shape of my mother from behind.

With her head still turned towards me, her eyes went wide. Then she trilled a surprised, “Oh God, look at you!”

“Look at you,” I croaked in reply. “Gorgeous,” I breathed.

“Don’t waste that,” my mother said, nodding towards my cock.

I let go and went to her, arms encircling her waist, my hard-on squeezed into the crease between her buttocks.

“That’s nice,” whispered my mother when I held her close and nuzzled her neck.

“You really are beautiful, mum,” I said, cupping her breasts.

In that intimate moment I adored my mother. I felt close to her in a way that was paradoxically familiar and strange at the same time. We bonded on an emotional level, her bare skin warm all down my front as I thumbed her nipples and my mother gasped, squirming against me, pre-cum smearing over her back and the cheeks of her bottom.

“All right, I believe you,” she said, twisting within the embrace. My mother smiled into my face, eyes on mine while she jacked at my length, boobs squashed against my chest.

Urgent with the need to get inside my mother, I mumbled, “Can we do it now, mum?”

She nodded, fervent, eyes shining. “Yes please,” she said.

When my mother pulled back the cover and then lay on the bed to offer herself missionary style, I couldn’t see why she’d been so reluctant to show herself nude. She was like her sister, a bit wider through the hips and softer in the tummy, heavier at her bust, but just as hot as Brooke. Maybe even more sexy because of her years. My mother wore her maturity well. Somehow classy regardless of the lewd manner in which she flaunted her sex.

“Quick,” said my mother. “Stop looking. Just get on the bloody bed with me, Alan. Love me.”

Pausing so I could seal the image into my mind I told her, “Don’t ever be shy with me again. Not about being naked, mum.”

Then I went to her. I clambered onto the bed with indecent haste, moving between my mother’s spread thighs, her sex glistening pink, labia puffy with her arousal.


We loved.

I felt the delicious warmth engulf my cock, the gasp coming out of my mother as we joined.

“God, I love how you feel inside me, Alan,” breathed my mother while I held myself up on straight arms. “Incest,” she murmured, staring at our conjunction. “My boy … my wonderful son…”

We began to move, my mother slowing me down when I forgot about making love and started to rut.

“Easy,” she purred, a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Steady, Alan. Don’t just fuck. Take your time. Nice and slow. Look at me, baby.” She held my focus, gazing into my eyes, the liquid glide between us. “Love,” sighed my mother. “Like we’re married,” she said. “This is so sublime. You’re good at this, Alan. I’m jealous of your girlfriends. I wish I’d been your first.”

“Mum, wow, that would have been fantastic.”

I was still up on straight arms but eased down onto my elbows after I said it.

“I love your body, mum. Fuck, those big tits are great…”

Excited, I moved so I could duck in to suck at her nipples, my mother cooling my ardour again when I fucked into her body.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Kiss me. Make love. Look at my face so I can see how it feels for you.”

We kissed, moving slowly together, her breasts between us, her legs folded at the knees while her feet gripped my flank. Our breaths mingled as we stared and moaned, mumbled endearments passing between us. It was loving. We were together as a couple. Melded. Intimate. It was private, our filial relationship shifting as our love deepened.

To herself, vague and distant, my mother moaned, “I wish we could have a baby together. Put your seed inside me.”

It stirred me to hear her say it. The idea was strangely compelling, the image forming in my mind as we continued to rock, her body around my girth. Then, suddenly, it became imperative that I get there quickly. That I poured what I had left into her pussy. My cum would bathe her cervix, sperm swimming to her centre to spark new life.

Aroused by the prospect of impregnating my mother — I could imagine her swollen with child, a baby we’d made in our love — I went up on straight arms, fucking at her so the bed dipped and shook.

“Mum,” I groaned, wild with need.

She must have sensed my intent because she blurted my name, alarm in her face.

“Not yet,” my mother hissed up at me. She pushed at my chest, wriggling to get out from under. “Don’t come. Not now. I want it for longer.”

I grunted and kept on going desperate to do it inside her.

My mother gave another hefty push, shoving at me, wriggling free. “Don’t!” she cried out. “Not yet.”

When my cock slipped free of her body, the urgency faded a little, enough for me to realise I’d been galloping towards the finish line with no thought about my mother’s needs and satisfaction.

Abashed at my selfishness, I gulped an apology.

“Yes, well,” my mother said, spreading her legs, “now you can lick me. Calm down. Take it easy. But please lick me down here.”

My mother splayed her folds, her labia thick and meaty, clitoris a swollen pink nub almost as big as the top joint of my pinkie finger. Entranced by the ugly-beauty of her pussy, I stared for five seconds, aroused by the sight.

“Here,” my mother went on, a finger slipping over that bean. “Kiss me right here.”

I gave my mother all the attention she needed. I licked and I sucked, slurped and fingered on instinct and her instructions. I don’t have a clue how long I spent down on my belly with my mother groaning and mewling, her essence on my tongue, her vulva slick with desire, but I know she came. My mother moaned it out the first time a climax claimed her attention. It wasn’t such a violent, juddering spectacle her sister had made. My mother just breathed out the announcement and then shivered and clawed at the sheet, a quick liquid burst of her release squirting over my tongue.

“Oh God … Divine,” she said, smiling at me, love in her eyes. “Don’t suck my clit any more, Alan,” she said when it was over. “Put a finger inside. I’ll tell you where to rub to make it good for me.”

The second orgasm hit her after she’d shown me just where she liked it. I had two fingers inside her by then, working at what my mother called her special place, up on my knees, the tips of my fingers angled to find the right spot, wrist like a swan’s neck.

That time, when she came, she hauled my head down, kissing with passion and heat while verbalising her joy through bestial grunts.

I carried on kissing my mother as I eased down onto the bed. With our mouths still locked, I next nudged her to get her on to her side.

“From behind,” I said as my mother took her weight on her hip an elbow.

“Spooning,” my mother responded, shoving her bottom at me.

Creased at the waist, my mother half-turned to look back at me. She grinned and nodded and splayed her buttocks.

I held my cock at where her pussy glistened in that concavity between her thighs, my free arm going under the bridge of her torso so I could take hold of one swaying breast. “You’re fucking lovely,” I moaned, sliding into her body.

“So are you,” she said, her bottom against my abdomen. “Better than any fantasy. Fuck me, Alan,” my mother went on with a moan of her own.

In that position, while I moved inside my mother, we did our best to kiss. I wanted to communicate my love to her, to be inside her as much as I could with my tongue and my cock.

While she gasped, my mother said, “You’re always kissing me, darling.”

“I love you,” I said in reply.

“God, yes, you do,” she murmured. “Show me how much. You’ve given me two orgasms, my lover. It’s your turn now. Fuck your mother and come when you want to. Tonight, I want you to stay with me. Sleep here so we can do this again whenever we want. I want my lovely son to stay in my bed tonight.”

I went at my mother by holding her close, the arm under the cage of her ribs in a tight embrace, the weight of her breast in the web of skin between my finger and thumb, my spare hand on her hip so I could pull her against me. I went in as deep as I could, her bottom flattening out on the vigorous in-stroke, skin slapping and thwacking. While we fucked, I moaned out words of love and desire, teasing my mother by telling her I wanted to give her my seed and put a baby inside her.

My mother went wild after I whispered it into her ear. She thrust back on my cock, one hand braced against the bed while the other worked at her sex. She told me she loved me and that I was such a gorgeous son for telling her that. My mother sobbed and groaned out she was close to coming again, begging me to go along with her.

“Please, darling, please!” my mother cried out. She swivelled to look back at me, gasping at me to kiss her again.

That did it for me. With our tongues swirling and twisting the joy burst inside me and I gave whatever I had left from the depleted contents of my balls. I told my mother what was going on, snarling it out while I could still speak.

“Come inside mummy,” she said, staring at me. “Squirt it into me, Alan. Stay with me tonight. Let’s be together…”

Then her expression turned vague, face going slack, a long low moan of her pleasure issuing forth.

“I love you,” I moaned once more.

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