She raised back up to look again at his face, now flushed, with tinges of red on his cheeks. Her breasts swayed before his eager eyes. They were heavy and full and hung there, tantalizing him. He licked his lips and gawked, and she allowed him to do so for a minute or two. Then, she tucked her head down, and finally looked at his nakedness, throbbing beneath her, observing that her own steaming nakedness was only a few short inches away from his.
She tilted her head back upward and arched her back slightly, pushing her hips forward. He could see now that she was open to him, though he sensed that he must still go slow, not rush, let her succumb to the inevitable at her pace. He put his hands back onto her ass, this time beneath her nightgown, feeling her bare skin. He had never touched her bare ass before. She gasped aloud, but said nothing.
He listened to her breathing, still more audible, faster, excited. “I love you, Mom,” he whispered hoarsely. She closed her eyes, savored the moment, the closeness, the love.
“I love you too, baby,” she whispered back. She was as stiff as his manhood was, her back still arched, her head back, her eyes closed, her thoughts confused, a muddle. Her intentions were still eluding her conscious thoughts. But her body made demands on her that she could not refuse.
He squeezed her bare ass firmly with his hands, and again she gasped. He pulled again and her wet bottom came into contact with his scrotum. She could feel his full testicles resting on his thighs, and she felt that she wanted to rub herself against them, but she held back, still not fully acknowledging her intentions, the inevitability of the thing they would do.
He knew his own intentions clearly, though, his desire to couple with her, to make love with his beautiful, sexy mom. He pulled again. She moved forward again, almost against her own will, practically incapable of stopping him. She could now feel his erection against her steaming labia, but she held back still, not yet fully willing to take him.
He began to rock his hips then, feeling himself sliding up and down in the helpless wetness of a mother in heat. He slid himself back and forth, exciting her swollen clitoris, tantalizing her aching, hungry vagina, making her desperate for more. She’d become incapable of stopping herself.
“We shouldn’t,” she protested. He responded by pulling her forward just a little more. She feigned resistance, but now felt the head of his penis against her open, sopping vaginal canal and knew finally, inevitably, that she would yield.
“We shouldn’t,” she said again, even as she raised herself up just a little. This, finally, was his chance. The moment had arrived. She was his to take. She could no longer enforce her own protestations. He pushed himself up against her and slid himself up into her. There was no resistance. He went fully into her in one easy push. Again, she gasped, then she yielded altogether, lay down atop him and began to kiss him on the mouth saying over and over, as if in explanation of her actions, “I love you, baby. So much. Sooo much!”