He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. Immediately Richie closed them, shielding himself from the sunlight which was streaming through the thin part between his bedroom window curtains. It was a narrow stream of light but enough to make the sandy-haired, naked 20-year old decide that he needed to get up. Opening his eyes again, he looked to the other side of his bed. It was empty, save for the fuchsia thong. He extended a muscular arm and scooped up the flimsy underwear and put it to his nose, taking a long hit of it. His mind vividly recalled the thong’s owner.
Her musk—I can never get enough of it. He inhaled deeply again. I never have been able to get enough of it for a year. Another sniff. I never will.
The earthy, piquant, female scent made his prick twitch awake. Richie smiled, tossed the thong to the floor and rose out bed. He padded out of his bedroom down the hall to the kitchen. He stopped in the archway. There was the thong’s owner.
She was a little shorter than Richie. Her back was to him, her flowing blonde mane tied in a ponytail. The blonde hair was a nice contrast to the green of the Packers T-shirt she was wearing. The young man took in the ravishing site of this sexy woman. Seeing how the hem of the jersey barely covered her ass, a curvy masterpiece which Richie felt was an ass to die for, caused his dick to further inflate. Her legs, long and tapering, were slightly parted with her dainty feet flat on the tile floor. He sauntered over to her, his semi-hard penis bouncing about.
“Good morning,” he murmured as his arms enveloped her waist, his head tucked into the nape of her neck, and his woody nestled on the jersey against her ass crack.
Mag had been sipping her morning coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, lost delightfully in the memories of the previous night’s carnality. Richie and she had celebrated their first anniversary together the previous night. Actually they knew each other for two decades. But it wasn’t until a year ago yesterday that they knew each other. Being in his arms always gave her a feeling of security and love. The feeling of his hard-on against her rear caused the peach-shaped bum to reflexively push back against the adored stalk of young manhood.
“Good morning,” she responded.
Her lower push-back caused Richie’s penis to solidify completely. He lifted the hem of the jersey, bent his knees and sensually rubbed himself up against her. She released an erotic sigh.
“You really shouldn’t be doing that.”
The college student smiled to himself. He chuckled at the half-heartedness of her cautionary statement.
“Why?” he confidently inquired, after his hands reached under Mag’s shirt and cupped her large, bare breasts.
“Mmmm,” she purred, relishing in the double approach of his prick and hands. The onset of moisture started in her cunt.
Richie lovingly squeezed the tits, his fingers tweaking the hardening nipples. Again he asked, “Why?” It was a sexy Q & A they frequently did just at the start of some epic sex.
Closing her eyes, she answered with a grin appearing over her pretty face. “Because I am your mother.”
He leaned into her ear. “I’m a motherfucker. What can I say? Guilty as charged.”
His hands were massaging the sensitive underside of Mag’s breasts, while he bent his knees and jabbed his firm member upward, almost entering his 43-year old parent.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, thinking he was going to take her from behind like he did most weekends. After their individual bedrooms, the kitchen was the next room in which the most illicit sex took place in. She started panting.
“Are, are you going to fuck me?”
“Nah. Not now,” he said, knowing that his manual and pelvic motions were exciting her. “Right now, I want breakfast.”
Somewhat disappointed, she asked “What do you want to eat?”
Again he leaned into her ear. “You!”
He quickly backed away and placed his left hand on her left leg and his other hand on her other leg. He adjusted her left leg so that it was steady and away from the counter. He lifted her right leg, and placed it on the counter top so that she was in an inverted L position.
“Aaahhh, Richie!” she swooned.
Mag stood in a ballet-stretch pose, her butt-cheeks spread and now fully exposed thanks to the jersey being raised above her waist. Richie sat down on the floor and raised his head between her vagina and the counter. He mischievously grinned at the sumptuous display of MILF pussy. The kitchen light did a noteworthy job of highlighting the small patch of fluffy, well-trimmed pubic hair. The pink labia were spread before him like the ‘meal’ it was. The fleshy petals already had a dewy appearance and seem to beckon him. His nose detected a heady combo of her sexual aroma and vanilla. It was her body wash, and his favorite one.
Nothing like Mom’s pussy when it is clean and wet!
Ritchie craned his neck upward into her crotch and stuck his tongue out.
A shiver ran down her spine and a raspy “Ahhh!” was released by Mag as her son’s tongue lapped at her twat, giving it a long, luxurious upward stroke. The flat of his tongue glided over the cuntal lips and skimmed over the awakened clit. His taste buds instantly enjoyed her tangy flavor.
Her hips bounced upward, then rolled and squirmed.
“Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed.
The young Adonis gave two more slow laps to the thrilled muff. Mag’s hips repeated their bounce, roll, and squirm. He brought his hands up to her buttocks to steady them. Then his mouth covered her most private opening, and sucked on the moist, distended lips. Gently he bit and suckled them, then used his tongue to skim across their wrinkled skin.
“Ahhhhh!” swooned the blonde beauty as the skimming changed direction, Richie now drawing circles on her meaty folds.
The circular pleasure continued for several more seconds. Richie stopped, briefly lost in her fragrance. The smell of his mother’s aroused cunt excited him immensely. He could hear her labored breathing, and feel her generous butt heaving in his palms. The next sound he heard was Mag scream…right after he stuck his stiffened tongue directly into the humid crevice.
“Yoouuuu, sweet thing! Oh, ahhh! Yes! Stick your tongue in mommy’s cunt! Ugghh!”
Richie vigorously, excitedly corkscrewed his lingua into Mag’s buttery gash, its slick inner walls quivering around the tongue, adoring it with a fresh round of nectar. He heartily swallowed his mother’s essence, the muscles and tendons in his Adam’s apple working feverishly. It was almost like a race between his tongue and his throat—which was faster?
This was Richie’s drug of choice—his foxy mother’s sultry, wet and horny pussy. He laughed to himself.
Meth head.
Mom head.
Breaking Bad.
Munching Mom.
“Ewwwwww, that’s it, baby! Fuck mommy with your delicious tongue! Oh yeahhhh! Fuck me with that tongue!” Mag groaned.
Despite his tight grip on her buttocks, the writhing of her crotch into his face made the young lover rest his head against the counter side. He recalled the first time he did this to her several months ago and her undulations pushed his head hard against the cabinet. It was an unfortunate ending to the moment as he saw stars and Mag’s natural motherly instincts kicked in to care for her only child.
Richie moved his head around and in between Mag’s taunt, splayed thighs. The son bestowed frenzied kisses and licks all over her desperate cunt and smooth, damp thighs. Kisses and licks, licks and kisses. It seemed like it was his goal to have his mouth and tongue touch every square inch of her groin.
The determined stud then began to mash his face into Mag’s pink taco, as if he was insanely trying to literally return to the womb which bore him. Responding in kind, the beauty skillfully undulated her hips and rubbed her sweltering pussy all over his delighted face. Richie was in decadent glee as he was awashed in another coat of his mom’s juices.
A tiny chuckle escaped from the thrashing parent. She heard her son say—in a muffled tone—”The breakfast of champions.” A second chuckle was made. She thought of how many times when Richie was a child she scolded him for talking with his mouth full. Oh the erotic irony!
“You don’t remember what I told you when you were young,” she teasingly reprimanded as she raised herself up on her left tippy-toes so that she pulled away her sex from his face. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Richie mused to himself at this playful punishment. He simply re-gripped her ass and pulled it down on his waiting, erect tongue.
“Uggh!” grunted the divorcee as her ass-cheeks crashed onto his facial cheeks, and her slit was penetrated by his lingua. He lifted her cheeks then lowered them then lifted—just like a barbell. He did this so he was orally screwing his curvaceous mother.
“Oh you horny fuck! Don’t stop! Stick your tongue in it! Don’t stop!”
Unrestrained pleasure was racing throughout her body like a winning thoroughbred. She slipped a hand under her football T-shirt and frantically rubbed both breasts. She was almost rough with herself, her hand hysterically massaging one tit, then the other, then both at the same time. Her fingers tweaked and rolled the swollen nipples, adding more to the fiery fulfillment she was experiencing.
The barbell motion was halted, and he readjusted his head. The son pushed his raunchy, determined, eager tongue deep into her groove. The deepness was intentional, his nose pushing against her engorged clit. Mag’s eyes flew open wide, as if the alarm clock next to her bed woke her from a deep slumber.
“Ugghhh!” she wailed, then directed. “The floor. The floor!”
For the studly sophomore, this meant his mother’s orgasm was coming on strong, now that he grazed her sensitive nub. It was nothing new for either one of them when he was feasting on her in this manner. He guided both of them to the kitchen floor, he lying on his back while Mag was getting situated over his face. The insatiable divorcee, once sitting comfortably on her son’s face, tossed her head about in sensual delight.
“Mmmm! Oh yeah!” she whorishly cheered, lifting the jersey above her head and throwing it across the kitchen. She was now completely naked like Richie.
Mag became a sexual steamroller, grinding her dripping, blazing-hot cunt into her son’s face with authority driven by lust. The pelvic movements were initially slow yet deliberate, rapidly becoming feverish. She felt immense power and monumental sexual gratification as she careened her torrid gash over and over Richie’s forehead, eyes, mouth, tongue and nose. Her swollen pussy lips were spread on his face, smearing her releasing nectar from his chin to the top of his skull.
She growled licentiously, “Yeahhhhh!” It was a deep-seeded combination of eroticism, control, pleasure, and a directive for more.
Richie absolutely loved it when his busty mother used his face for her pleasure. Having her squatting over him, her bent knees on the outer sides of his arms, her smooth thighs spread over his face, the sexy hip gyrations, the tidal wave of her oils, her pungent musk, the slippery feel of her labia and inner thighs, the guttural moans—it had a stranglehold on the lad. He became adept at moving his head so he could get oxygen while Mag face-fucked him.
“Almost there!” she bellowed as the flat of Richie’s tongue and her clit were a match in igniting her climax.
The Adonis quickly raised up his arms and took a hold of her swaying breasts. He squeezed them frantically…at the same time his tongue delivered a barrage of urgent laps to her sexual kernel.
“Oh you, sonofabitch! That’s it! That’s, that’s it! Lick mommy’s clit! Squeeze my tits! Oh yes! Lick it! Make mommy cum all over you! Oh yesss!”
Mom always said I should listen to her he mused to himself. Then in the back of Richie’s hedonistically-charged mind, he heard the chorus of Kiss’ Lick It Up! And that’s what he did! His tongue was incessantly applying an oral staccato of lashes to the excited pearl.
The eyes of the writhing parent were hooded over, lost in the fiery, intense and wicked satisfaction she was receiving. She took a glance at her son’s erect phallus. It was just a few feet away in front of her, rocking about like a buoy in a storm, as he squirmed under her. Richie’s dick wanted her mouth to apply its own oral expertise to it as well as to the twin orbs below it. As much as she loved sucking the taboo sausage and peppers, there was no way she was going to do it now. Occasionally she got selfish when it came to sex. This was one of those moments. The stunning divorcee tossed her head, began massaging her quivering tits, pulled on her turgid nipples, and curled her toes in unbridled, primal joy.
“Yes, Richie!” bellowed Mag as she lifted up her crotch from the drenched, squished face. It was an orgasmic announcement AND warning. Mother and son were so incestuously in synch. He quickly turned his head to the right side. This was so that when his mother shoved down her twat on him, the force didn’t break his nose.
Mag groaned, “Aggghhhh!” as her slobbered cunt quickly dropped back onto Richie’s head like a ton of bricks. She rode his face—and rode, and rode. The orgasm was electric, causing her lush, curvy body to shake in the throes of unmitigated pleasure. It wasn’t only from the unfathomable physical delight which incited the pleasure, but for the decadent mental relishing in the forbidden sex between parent and offspring.
When Mag’s orgasm finally ended, she lifted her leg over so she was no longer sitting on Richie’s face, now sitting along side of it. She looked at him. His entire face had the shiny appearance of a Crispy Crème donut. They shared a smile, he also licking his lips and making “Mmmm” sounds.
“You like your mother’s muffin?” she jokingly inquired with a smile.
“Oh yeah! Your muffin—especially the cream in the middle—is my favorite breakfast!”
They both laughed heartily at the double entendre. Then he hooked his arm around her neck and playfully pulled her face towards hers. Her own pussy perfume and tartness assailed her nose and mouth as she desirously kissed him. Their tongues danced with each other, sharing her juices and their mutual saliva. The kiss was very sensual, and gave way to the two staring longingly in their eyes.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, Richie.”
– – –
One year ago.
It seems Richie’s father had a habit of fucking…any woman but his wife. When this had been discovered, Mag was crushed and immediately filed for divorce. Richie was also crushed—and pissed at his old man.
It was a late Friday afternoon when Mag’s husband cleared out all his belongings from their apartment. Only Richie was present for this exit. Mag was too distraught to be around her louse spouse. She volunteered for overtime at the accounting firm where she worked as an administrative assistant.
The son glared evilly at his father as he piled a duffel bag, knapsack, and three suitcases near the doorway. He caught Richie’s eye.
“What are you looking at?” the deposed husband asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“A piece of shit.”
“You watch your mouth, young man. I’m still your father.”
“And, you’re still a piece of shit.”
Enraged, he rushed toward his son. Richie, a brown belt in Tae Kwon Do, leaped from the recliner where he was and at once got into a fighter’s stance. Seeing Richie’s pose and remembering how he polished off his opponent in his last belt test, the parent put the brakes on. Father and son viewed each other like two snarling male lions preparing to combat for the pride’s control. The older man wanted to teach his belligerent child a lesson. The younger man wanted to kick his dad’s ass for hurting him and, most of all, his mother. The standoff ended when the father “blinked.” He silently returned to gathering his things together and then called a cab. He looked back at his son, who was still in his fighter pose without every taking his eyes off the philander.
The blonde Bruce Lee he silently mocked his only child.
It wasn’t until all of the luggage was in the building hallway, the apartment keys were on the dining room table, and his dad had closed the door that Richie’s warrior stance ended and he felt his adrenaline also dissipating. He flew to the door and locked it. Then he peered around at the empty apartment. The economics major dug into his jeans pocket for his cell phone. His finger hit the #1 choice on his speed dial list.
“Hi, Mom. No everything is ok. Yeah, he just left. No, no problems. I’ll see you when you get home. I love you too. No, I’m fine.”
The last part was a lie. He ran his fingers through his hair. His emotional crash struck, and he began to sob uncontrollably. He headed to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. The ten minutes of crying provided several hours of needed sleep and rest.
Several hours later Mag opened the apartment door. Her eyes caught her husband’s keys lying on the nearby table. She exhaled a huge sigh of relief. After locking the door she called for her son. No answer. A brief pang of worry hit her mind. She dropped her purse and scurried for his bedroom and opened the door.
She breathed a literal sigh of relief seeing Richie asleep on his bed.
Her eyes did a head-to-toe sweep of her child who was lying flat on his back. She smiled and mentally surmised with typical motherly pride that her son was handsome. She was about to leave the room when her visual sweep came to an unexpected halt. She blinked several times and then her jaw dropped.
There was a sizeable bulge in the crotch of Richie’s jeans.
She felt somewhat guilty and wanted to look away. But she couldn’t. It had been so long that she saw a hard cock. Yet, this was her son. Her head looked away…then back. Mag’s ignored and marginalized sexuality had been wakened…by of all things her son’s erection. Her eyes were glued to the lump. She licked her lips, then felt instantaneous regret and self-loathing. Her conscience and libido started to wrestle.
This is your son…that you’re looking at like a male stripper!
He’s a young, good looking guy who happens to be your son.
You’re not supposed to look at your son like this!
Your husband was not supposed to fuck another woman.
But—
Conscience was interrupted by the sleeping Richie, as his lower region began to roll and he was thrusting up his erection.
Libido was thrilled by the unforeseen action.
Look at that, Mag! Look at how that massive, delicious-looking piece of virile cock and how it’s shoving upward. Look at it! Just imagine that beautiful young manhood shoving upward into your sexually-famished cunt, providing it the needed and wanted gratification, bringing you to a monumental climax as it explodes its seed deep into your vagina!
Conscience was initially silent, then could only offer a feeble response.
But, but, he’s your son.
Oh, alright! Libido capitulated. Just for now, enjoy this studly scene and save it for posterity. Tonight when you take your shower and you play with yourself—you KNOW, after seeing this you’re going to play with yourself—hey! Wait a minute! Why don’t you play with yourself right now?
Here?! Conscience inquired in shock.
Sure here! Why not? It’ll make it that much dirtier!
But it’s incest!
Are you touching him? Is he touching you? Are you two fucking? No.
It’s still incest.
Well, technically yes. But isn’t dirty sex supposed to be the best? What’s dirtier than incest? Besides after you get yourself off now, you can later replace Richie’s face with someone else’s. You’ve been through so much, Mag. Why not treat yourself? Treat yourself to this voyeuristic delight! Pleasure yourself now to this forbidden sight!
It was as if Mag’s body was sold on Libido’s reasoning. Her nipples were quickly solidifying and moisture began to seep in between her legs.
Libido continued its salesmanship. You see that? You FEEL that? Your nipples are getting hard as pebbles and your cunt is brewing a tidlewave. Go ahead! Pinch your nipples. Caress your breasts. Finger your—
“Oh, mom!” groaned the slumbering lad. “Oh, mom! I’ll take care of you!”
His thrusts gained quality and quantity after he uttered the ‘m’ word.
The parent didn’t move or utter a sound. Even her mental fighters were silent.
“I’ll take care of you. Oh, you feel soooo good, Mom!” He rotated his hips and shoved up his stiff, expansive, denim-covered prick into the air, again and again.
Checkmate! Libido triumphantly proclaimed.
Mag’s brain was frazzled. Her son had never exhibited any usual attraction to her. She never had any Kay Parker-type inclinations toward him. How could all of this be happening? Her mind was scrambling for anything remotely sensible which could explain the unnatural sexuality which was occurring. After what seemed like an eternity, her mental capability came up with it.
Stress.
Stressful situations often caused sexual arousal. She was stressed because of her husband’s infidelity and the subsequent divorce. She was stressed that Richie volunteered to throw out his father. Richie himself about the whole thing, especially making sure his father left.
Yes, it was stress, she surmised. It was stress which was bringing on Richie’s dream and her own arousal.
Now that Mag had a reasonable explanation for an unreasonable situation, she could allow herself to submerge into this decadence. She quickly opened her blouse and lifted her massive rack out of the bra. The cool air felt good on her excited nipples. She cupped each breast and caressed it, her eyes glued to her dry-humping son. She felt the weight of “the twins,” trembling as her palms squeezed the curved edge of each tit. Her breathing was becoming labored, then turned to whimpering as she pinched the hard nipples and bloated areolas.
Next, one hand raised her skirt at the same time a thigh parted. The other hand traveled down from her chest. The southbound hand slipped under the frilly waistband of her panties and commenced to briskly rub her steaming cunt.
She wantonly glared at her son. “Oh, Richie! This feels soooo good,” she softly moaned as the flats of her fingers were skimming over her fleshy, drooling, inflamed lips.
As if the sleeping lad was sharing the moment with her, he chimed in with a repeat.
“Ohhhh, Mom! You feel so good!”
His pelvic thrusts seemed to be on auto-pilot.
Mag’s arousal intensified. She crammed her middle finger into her roasting, yearning, gash. Low squishy sounds could be heard as the newly-untamed woman fingered herself to the lusty sight of her son dry-humping her in his dreams.
“Aaahhh, yeah!” She quietly moaned, adding her own dialogue to the dirty talk. “I feel good, Richie? Does mommy feel good to you as you fuck her?”
Wanting to feel slutty, Mag pushed her Victoria Secret’s down mid-thigh and resumed frigging her now-bare twat.
Richie’s ears heard some unusual things.
“Does mommy feel good to you as you fuck her?” That sounded like Mom.
“Ohhhh, Mom! You feel so good!” Was that me?
He also sensed his lower extremities were motioning. He opened his eyes.
“Oh, Mom!” he exclaimed.
This was not a repeat of the raunchy statement he made in his sleep. It was one of shock.
To the right side of his bed, he saw his goddess of a mother pleasuring herself. She was in her gray business suit, its skirt portion hiked up and her panties pulled down her thighs, enabling her left hand to feverishly stroke her overheating vagina. The jacket was open as was her white blouse, one of her stiff nipples being vigorously tweaked by the fingers of the right hand. She looked so fucking hot: her spread legs with one knee bent to the side, the tight-covering of the skirt across her lush hip, and her 3-inch, black heels.
Their eyes met and then hers motioned for his to look at his crotch. He did, mortified at the tented region. His eyes flew back to hers.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m—” his blabbering apology was cut off as he resumed viewing his lovely parent masturbating.
“Sorry for what, baby?” she coyly inquired, bringing the hand which attended her muff up to her face and then licking the palm. It was an erotic, slow lap from wrist to finger tips, exciting herself with her own spicy syrup.
The provocative scene of his mother tasting her own juices caused Richie’s pecker to start oozing precum into his Calvin Klein briefs. He was confused: embarrassed, yet aroused. He remained silent as Mag continued her inquisition.
“Sorry for what, Richie? Hmmm? Having a dirty dream about fucking me, your mother?” The words ‘fucking me, your mother’ were heavily stressed.
“I, I, I’m sorry, Mom,” he stammered.
“It’s ok, baby,” she consoled in a low, sexy tone just before pushing her panties down to her feet.
The college student’s eyes blinked and his mouth was opened wide, unbelieving at seeing his alluring mother shove her panties all the way down her snake-like legs. She paused, letting the image of her soaking wet Victoria Secrets around her ankles obscenely covering her high heels get saved in his memory. Then she stepped out of them.
Richie’s prick twitched in response to seeing this intentional loss of underwear. But he was so stupefied at the sight of Mag now sauntering over to him like a stalking cheetah. He swallowed hard at this unbelievable sight.
“It’s the stress,” the incestuous seductress lewdly interpreted. “Stress—it very often causes unexpected sexual arousal.”
She was now right next to his bed. She bent down to put her cream-coated hand over his nose and mouth, and sensually rubbed it against him. Another thrill coursed throughout her seeing Richie’s nostrils flare, smelling her rich cunt cologne, and his tongue slither out to taste her honey. She beamed down at him, seductively.
Next Mag reached for his belt buckle and started to open his jeans. Richie was passive and silent. He knew he just had an X-rated dream about his mom and she obviously caught him. He felt guilty but, not really. He was now beside himself that his dream was the cause for his mother to openly play with herself, share the smell and taste of her pussy, and now fumble with opening his Levi’s.
“It’s all stress, my dear,” Mag stated, sounding almost clinical, as she pulled his fly down over his hard-on. Eyeing the fresh, large stain on the front of his shorts ratcheted up her forbidden lust. Her breathing sounded asthmatic.
When she completed the task, she opened the pants flaps and hurriedly yanked down his jockeys. This last action caused his naked, rock-hard manhood to flop out into the open, along with his burly testicles.
“Oh Richie!” the cougar lustfully evaluated, her lips instinctively licking themselves. “My son, how you’ve grown!”
Richie’s cock was strapping, towering with a sleek length of slightly more than seven inches. The purple top gleamed with the still-spewing pre-jizz, while the blue vein seem to pulse with erotic life. The two robust, fleshy testicles below had Mag’s lecherous mind wondering about the copious amounts of male-milk stored within them.
A perverse thrill suddenly struck the young man, seeing his voluptuous, half-naked, horny mother gaze at his stiff dick with cherished awe. He also loved seeing her barely-covered tits, quivering and showcasing her stiff nipples and prickly areolas as she had opened his pants.
With his eyes locked on hers, he opened his shirt and confidently displayed his pecs and nearly-six pack abs. He threw the shirt to the floor. Mag stood there mute and mesmerized by the hurried disrobing. Next he finished what she started: removing his jeans. Then his jockeys, sneakers and socks were close to his shirt on the floor. The hunky son spread a bent knee, bearing his upright, throbbing penis with his big, beefy nuts relaxing below the mighty stalk. It was incredibly arousing for him to be posing like a Playgirl centerfold in front of Mag, laying in the buff for his lusty mother to take in. He began to undulate his groin.
“I believe you’re right, mom,” the well-built young man agreed, now languidly stroking his erection for her. “It’s definitely stress.”
The parent’s vision was now exclusively on her son’s lap as he was now slowly masturbating. She licked her lips again, viewing how his hand greased the pre-cum all over his majestic staff and then bawdily, leisurely fisted it.
Never had she experienced such a high degree of visual stimulation. Her nipples were so excited they hurt. Her flowing ambrosia basted her inner thighs and pubic region. Her moist pussy lips swelled with unadulterated, nasty longing.
“Uh ah,” she agreed with a purr. “This is all stress.”
Mag, with a knowing grin, provocatively glared at her boy. She placed one knee on the bed, and swung the other one over him. Her perverted mind had already made the decision. The in-heat mother was going to mount her son.
Richie stopped playing with himself. He was greatly astonished at seeing his mother sit astride him.
“Yes, my angel,” she continued with her feeble and hedonistic explanation, “Stress is a powerful thing.”
Mag, panting like a marathon runner, straddled Richie. Her heart was beating like a heavy metal drummer as she squatted over his groin. She raised her skirt, and grasped his hard, virile and magnificent cock. She could feel its heat, throbbing with forbidden desire.
Richie was beside himself. His amorous mother had just taken hold of his solidified dick. His mouth was a perfect “O” as the incestuous element of this whole scene had no bearing on the handsome son whatsoever. In his erotically-charged state, he actually felt honored that his dazzling, sexually-neglected mom needed and wanted him to fuck her.
She aimed the rotund, penile top at her hot, needy hole, then lowered herself onto it.
“Aaaaagghhh!” she moaned loudly.
The greasiness of the mother’s pussy lips made the forbidden penetration easy. As the spongy cock-head parted the pink petals and slipped between them, it ventured further into the heated slit. Mag’s eyes rolled back into her head. The sensation for the buxom blonde was nothing short of exquisite.
“Uggghhhh!” she wailed.
“Ohhhh, fuck, Mom! You’re soooo tight!”
“Yeah I know, baby! Aaahhh! Your father hadn’t touched me in over a year. Ohhhh, shit, Richie! Your cock feeeeeels so damned good!!
As the beauty impaled her starving cunt onto his eager, overjoyed dick, the son felt like his manhood was being encased in a stretched, delectable, buttery covering. He watched with popped-open eyes as his solidified member seemed to be beamed up into her molten sexual core. He was plainly speechless. His keen, strong erection was gaining access to the one pussy that he was never supposed to have access to. It was the ultimate in recycling!
Mag’s sugar walls quivered insanely, welcoming the lean slab of beef as it rose deeper into her searing cavern. It was as though the insides of her vagina were pulling him inward and enveloping around his cock, treating it like a conquering hero and literally showering it with its pearly ambrosia. Mag tossed her head back and then around, relishing in this superlative tool filing her up.
Almost in a celebration, the two let out deep, guttural moans in unison. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with lustful needed. She bit her lower lip as her once deprived cunt was now filled completely by the winning combo of youthful length and girth.
He gazed upward at her, flabbergasted at the moistness and snugness of her torrid, MILFy pussy. His eyes couldn’t get over how amazing his mom looked naked and ready, wanting to fuck.
The two were breathing like 1st and 2nd place winners at the Kentucky Derby. Their breathing, in fact, became the only sound in the room. Their bodies were getting used to this union, as were their minds. Despite the fathoms of mental lust, Richie and Mag both realized, deep down, they had a crossed a societal line. It was a realization, though, which would be dealt with later. Mother and son were so out of their gourds with pure, primal lust they just wanted to get it on.
The studly Adonis began spearing her. Initially it was a slow then steady pace of northerly shoves. Then it got good to him. The spasming, gooey, lush feel of the forbidden pussy—growing hotter and wetter—had a vice-like grip on him. He grabbed her opulent hips and went to town. Moving like a turbine, Richie was now delivering rolling waves of his meaty goodness up into Mag’s pink groove.
“Uuggggghhhhh!” moaned the buxom beauty as her son’s erection careened over and over against the inner sanctum of her womanhood.
His rapid-fire jolts caused her foxy, convulsing body to be pushed up and her head tossed back. Mag was being delivered into erotic elation, and Richie was the delivery man.
“You like that, mom? Hmmm? You like having your son fuck you like there’s no tomorrow?” he lecherously asked.
Initially all that would come out of her mouth was a stream of “Oh’s” and “Ah’s.” She couldn’t annunciate anything except moans. The ecstasy his jackhammering was giving her soaking, insatiable cunt was massive. But soon the answer was stated.
“Yes! Yes! I love my son fucking me like there’s no tomorrow! Oh, yes!”
For the next several minutes the screwing was off the charts, feral, and more for an Animal Planet episode on mating in the wild. Sweat was flying off of both lovers and their bodies were contorting up and down tempestuously. The two just couldn’t get enough of one another.
Eventually, both bodies had to slow down for a breather. Their movements for the next few minutes were languid. As the mental fog of sex also lessened, Mag wondered.
“In your dream, you said you would take care of me. Did you really mean that?” Mag temptingly quizzed.
Richie took hold of her hips while continuing to meet her gaze. He paused…and then rammed his stiffness mightily, quickly up—high up—into her pussy.
The sudden, unexpected, and upward thrust sent the goddess’ head back. She screamed.
“Arrrgggghhh!”
“Yeah, mom. I meant it!”
The son held apart her butt cheeks and began to wildly fuck his mother. His northerly jabs were profound and quick, tapping at the moist and delirious cunt in a heated flurry, his hips rolling like a whirlwind.
Mag sounded as if she had a speech impediment. “Ah! Ah! Oh! Ah!”
Richie was steadily increasing the tempo of his shoves, mesmerized by the all-over-the-place bouncing of Mag’s tits. He leered at the puffy nipples, licking his lips. He reached up and took hold of her melons, squeezing them. He always knew his mom was stacked. It was just plain obvious. But now he was actually seeing and feeling her breasts.
“Ohhhh, Richie!” she moaned.
He craned his neck forward and took one fat nipple in his mouth. He sucked on the teat urgently, laved at it, relishing in its smoky taste, and applying coat after coat of saliva over it. While he orally attended to that nub, the fingers of his other hand tweaked and pulled on the other.
The neurons in Mag’s brain were firing off. Her sensitive breasts and nipples were being loved while she was getting boned. She tossed back her hair, the golden mane soaring through the air, and smiled triumphantly.
A long forgotten trait was being reborn within her. It was the trait of sexual self-confidence. She had it before and after she met her husband, but recently lost it because of his historical ignoring her physical needs, and the dual trauma of his cheating and the end of their marriage. Now, with this young lover—her son—who was just wet-dreaming about her, who she was masturbating about, and who now was giving her the Grade-A screwing she needed, she felt the power once again! It was the power which all good-looking women know they possess. It was this carnal confidence which spawned the control she was about to exhibit.
Mag extracted her bust from Richie’s mouth and placed her hands on his hard chest muscles as she leaned forward.
“Later, baby. Later. Mommy loves you feeling her breasts and sucking her nipples,” she hissed. “But right now, it’s my turn to fuck YOU!”
The white-hot temptress rapidly began moving her hips up and down, riding the thick shaft with power, passion, and urgency. This hip motion combined with her flowing, clear oil helped Richie’s dick to travel deeper insider her spasming gash. Drunk with raw sexuality, Mag ground her turgid clit hard against his pelvic bone, maximizing her pleasure exponentially. Over and over she mashed her sex pearl against her son.
“Aaahhhh, yes!” she roared. “Uggghhh! Oh Richie, you sweet motherfucker!”
The hunk was completely taken back, not only for being usurped in domineering the lay, but he could never picture his mother sounding and acting like a slut like this—with him, his dad or anyone. He figured it was the lengthy absence of sex which brought out this wildcat. Maybe it was the illicit nature of this copulating. Maybe both, or something else. Whatever it was, Richie’s mom was turning out to be the best piece of ass he ever had.
This was underscored when her cuntal muscles flexed and gripped Richie’s prick, sending an armada of electric, pleasure-filled sensations to his groin and mind.
“Oh, shit!” he yelled at the erotic squeezing Mag’s sex gave his.
She just gave him a knowing, alluring grin. She sexily licked her lips and gave his frantic cock another healthy squeeze.
The golden-haired goddess then pushed her face into Richie’s and shoved her tongue into his mouth. Her tongue began a slippery, fevered dance with his, their lips and mutual saliva all over the place. Next she clamped her hands on his writs which were in a T position on the bed. She raised up her lap, almost dislodging his dick from her cunt, then rammed herself back down on the fleshy staff. The action caused the French kiss to end.
“Ugggghhhhh!” bellowed the studly lover.
“Aaaahhhhh!”
Recovering first from the mutual groans, the cougar again held him down, her mouth and tongue once again ravaging his, while her muculent, broiling cunt ravaged his prick. Mag was like a hospital blood pressure monitor run amok: she feverishly bounced up and down on her son’s delighted hard-on. The illicit, hedonistic pleasure she was getting right now was beyond epic. She knew she’d be sore in the morning, but she didn’t get care. She especially didn’t care now that she felt the start of her oh-so-needed orgasm.
“Oh! Uggghhhh! Oh, Richie! I’m cumming! Momma’s cumming!”
Friction and feeling.
It was the tameless friction between their groins which caused the feeling, first for her. It was the carnal version of rubbing two sticks together and causing a fire. Mag was more than animated, her hot, sexy body jumping up and down on Richie’s cock like a pogo-stick. This caused the feeling of immense gratification as her climax overswept her.
The overjoyed dick, shellacked in umpteen coats of pussy juice, was fiercely gripped and squeezed by her spasming cuntal walls tighter than before. Occasionally he gave a few upward jabs, but Mag’s gully did virtually all the work.
Not long after her crescendo hit, so did his.
“Uggh! Mom, I’m also—”
His announcement was cut off by the fist salvo of extra heavy, white, and potent cream. It burst forth of out the frenzied penis hole, painting the insides of his mother’s snatch.
“You’re cumming?!” her vulgar question stated in a feverish tone. “You’re coming at the same time as Mommy?! That is so fucking hot!”
With untapped vigor, the climaxing tigress redoubled her bouncing efforts and just rammed herself down over and over again. In turn, the massive ejaculation literally belched out like artillery from a howitzer.
“Oh shit, Mom! Oh shit! Cumming! Aaahhhh!!!!”
The young lover never climaxed like this. He actually thought he was going to pass out, but the thunder from down under was discharging like a geyser and kept him conscious. Salvo after salvo of jizz was ejected upward into the wet, wanton cunt, mixing with her own sexual shower.
When the animalistic, sweaty, incestuous orgasms ended, Mag and Richie were spent. She dismounted from him, his depleted prick slipping out of her hole with a semi-loud “plop.” She curled up next to Rich and kissed him. It was an unrushed, sensual lip-lock. Then they looked deeply in each other’s eyes. It was a look of satisfaction. And a look which gave way to a long slumber for both of them.
It was almost five in the morning when Mag awoke. She found herself spooning Richie. Conscience, the loser in the mental war, seemed to be waiting for her.
You’re going to have to discuss last night with him, and about the future.
“I know.”
What you did was wrong.
“Fuck off.”
Conscience dissipated, and sleep returned to Mag.
An hour and a half later she awoke for good this time. Richie was lying on his side, his elbow bent and his head propped up by that hand. When she saw him, he smiled at her.
“You’re beautiful when you’re naked and asleep,” he complimented.
“Thank you, son.”
She returned the smile. Her appreciation was genuine as she could never remember the last time her ex paid her any kind of sexy compliment.
They kissed. It was not the same kind of kiss as the previous morning. This was a lovers’ kiss. It was wet, slow, and had the briefest meetings of tongue tips.
The “elephant in the room” was present. The silence, until Mag broke it, was deafening.
“You know this changes everything.”
“I know.”
She searched for traces of regret in his tone. There wasn’t any. He sounded confident and nonchalant. There was silence again between the two as they stared at one another.
“I’m sorry, Richie.”
“For what?” He was puzzled at first then realized the imminent self-blame from her.
“I—”
“Mom, we both wanted it.”
Touché, she thought. But she was still concerned that she had hurt her only child.
He smiled. “It was the stress.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she commented.
“Yeah, it was that,” he countered self-assuredly.
Mag looked down, as if searching for words, then returned her looking at him. Her son hadn’t flinched.
“I don’t want to fuck you up, Richie.”
He smiled.
“Mom, the only way you’re going to fuck me up is with that beautiful MILFy body of yours.”
She gave a slight smile and chuckle.
“I really meant it when I said I’d take care of you, especially like this,” he said and swept his hand out over their naked bodies.
“I also meant,” he continued, “like this.”
He put his hand over her heart, then over his, then back to hers, all the while keeping his eyes locked her. The corner of her mouth began to quiver, tears were welling up, and she felt like crying.
The tears were rolling out of her eyes down her cheeks fast. Before she all-out sobbed, she kissed Richie. It was rushed at first, the blonde moving in fast to cut off the blubbering. Then it was slow. It wasn’t really sensual; it was more emotional.
When she composed herself and beat back the impending cry, she wanted reassurance.
“You’re sure you’re ok with this?”
His answer was a sigh of exasperation and a “give me a break” look.
“Ok. Good.” she said. “That why I won’t feel guilty about what I am about to do.”
He was curious and looked at her.
Richie’s curvaceous mother, winking at him and mischievously grinning, shimmied down his muscular body. Her head dropped to his pubic region, and she gazed at his flaccid penis and balls. His sex was coated in his cum, her sap, and perspiration. She looked at him. With her eyes still on his, her tongue sensually coiled out of her mouth, agonizingly taking its time as it slithered toward the cock crown.
“Oh, MOM!” he screamed as the top of her tongue glided over the top of his dick.
The college student interrupted their staring to toss his head back, eyes closed, as his nervous system was torched by the sinful lap.
He looked back down and his parent was still watching him. Her tongue slowly reappearing out of her mouth, once again destined for his penile head. The taboo tongue gave a wider sweep over the mushroom-like top.
The blonde parent wasn’t sure which was more decadent: your son fucking you or giving him a blowjob right after the fuck? She laughed to herself, relishing in the wickedness of feeling like a slut…a mommy-slut. It had been so long since she blew a man and the fact that she was now blowing her son—100% pure taboo—got her quickly, immensely aroused once more. It was such a hot arousal, as her teats were hardening and her vaginal condensation quickly built.
She licked around the head, titillating the sensitive skin where the head and the shaft met.
“Oh, fuck, Mom! Do that again!”
She flashed a whorish grin, and complied.
“Shit!” he yelled at the top his lungs.
Each time the mother licked the top of his manhood, it shuddered. She smiled again as it flexed to life, and laughed to herself that the blood rushing to the penis was moving faster than in a trauma center.
She took hold of the arching member, holding it like fine crystal. Richie gazed down and was delighted to see his incestuous, naked mom stare at his cock with adoration. Her eyes, glazed over with raw lust, seem to burn a hole into his rising manhood. It reminded him so much of in Taboo when Kay Parker first when down on Mike Ranger. Mag had the same awe-struck look at Richie’s penis. She seemed to be in her world.
Mag’s touch and look completed the sexual build-up. His dick was now harder than stone, and pulsated like a healthy heart.
“Ewwww, son! You’re cock is so sexy and beautiful when it’s hard!” her hissed compliment reverberated in his ears.
Richie conceitedly, perversely grinned.
The amorous mother’s view now was now on his balls. She was dumbstruck at their robust appearance. She nuzzled her noose on the meaty eggs, drawing zigzag marks on them with the tip of her nose. She loved the smell. The depraved beauty than planted kisses on the two, then applied licks to their sweaty surfaces.
“Aaaahhhhhh!” Richie howled
Still maintaining her grasp on the firm, aroused stalk, Mag’s tongue moved to the underside of her son’s member, where the shaft and testciles connected. She licked at the sensitive spot then the entire length, from base to top, top to base.
Richie had several BJs from prior girlfriends. He instantly determined that those were the ‘minors,’ and his mother’s fellatio was not just the ‘majors’ but All Star quality.
Unknowingly copying Ms. Parker, Mag rubbed her face with the erection. Over and over she massaged her face against the sumptuous, virile, cock. It was like she, in August weather, was enjoying the cold feel of a soda bottle before she drank it. She looked at a bit longer in shock and awe.
“Arrrgghhhhhh!” wailed the serviced lad. He blinked several times up at the ceiling and had to catch his breath at just what happened.
His mom had just opened her mouth and took the expansive, spongy cock-head into it. Lethargically, Mag’s lips slithered down the quivering prick, her tongue stroking the underside of it. With almost the entire length of the erection encompassed, the sinful parent began to withdraw back, even slower. Then she eased forward again, gradually. She bobbed her head up and down, down and up, moving at a snail’s pace, then leisurely turning her head to and fro as she slobbered over the luscious prick. All of this was punctuated by a couple of hot-sounding “Mmmmm’s.” Mag was giving her boy a blowjob he’d never forget!
She glanced up at him and smiled. His head was tilted upward, eyes scrunched up closed, and his fists tightly holding the closest piece of bed sheet. His “Ohhhhhhhh, fuck! Mom!” was a raunchy tune to her ears.
Mag removed her mouth from Richie’s schlong, a loud and wet smack punctuating the separation. She looked up him, her eyes burning with 3rd degree lust, and stroking his meat with her fist.
“You like mommy sucking you? Ah, Richie?”
“Oh yes!”
“Does mommy suck you good? Does she suck you better than those college co-eds?” She hastened her fisting, watching her son tremble and shake with pleasure.
“Oh shit, YES!” he croaked.
“Are you sure?” She now was briskly rubbing her still-cupped hand over the sensitive cock crown.
“Yes! Yes!”
“Hmmm. Good.” She paused speaking, her hand back to rubbing the pulsating, desirous, and frenzied shaft.
“Are you going to let another girl suck your cock, Richard?”
Richard?’ What the fuck?! He wondered.
“No, no!”
“Excellent!” she hissed. “Who owns your cock?”
“You do, Mom.”
“How about your balls?” she further teased.
“You do, Mom!” This time he sounded a bit desperate.
“How about your whole body?”
“YOU DO, MOM!” The son was now fully desperate.
She had a huge Kool-Aid grin on her face and triumphantly surmised, “Good.”
And with that she engulfed his anxious dick back in her mouth and resumed sucking him. Mag feasted on her son’s dick, making loud slurping noises, the glistening shaft slipping in and out of her overcharged mouth. She worked it like a BBQ rib.
“Hmmm, son! I LOVE the taste of your cock!” she purred before licking along the pulsating blue vein. Before deep throating him again, she made a salacious declaration.
“Your mom loves sucking your cock, Richie!”
Before he could even get the groan out, he felt his penile tip hit the back of her throat. Then there was a sensation on his rod: it was wet, moving gradually then quickly, and was categorically magnificent. He looked down and saw his beautiful, oversexed mother bobbing her head up and down like a porn queen.
“Suck it! Suck it, Mom! Suck meeeeee!”
The blonde, turned on by his leaking pre-jizz and his X-rated cheer, greedily did as she was told. She slurped, nursed, and inhaled his manhood, relentlessly and whorishly.
If someone had told Mag yesterday that she would be blowing her son, she would have slapped them. If someone had told Mag yesterday that she would blowing her son AND enjoying it, she would have decked them. But now? The wanton parent now desired nothing more than to suck the stiff, tasty prick harder and harder. She was almost gagging as her lust urged her to push her face closer to his crotch and swallow as much of the luxurious dick as possible.
For a while it was just her mouth pleasuring the Adonis. Then her hand joined in. While her tongue swirled around the purple helmet, bathing it in saliva and ecstasy, the fingers of her right hand wrapped themselves around the frantic, vivacious shaft and began pumping it.
Bells and whistles started going off in Richie’s head. His mother’s oral proficiency was bringing on his orgasm faster than a rush-hour train. He wasn’t sure if Mag swallowed or not, so he moaned his warning.
Mag released the kilboski from her mouth, maintaining her grasp on it. With a very intense, lusty look accented by half-slit eyes, Mag just said, “Cum in mommy’s mouth.”
It had the usual tone of a parental directive but obviously was blunt in its incestuous aspect.
Mag once again engulfed the succulent penis, brought a hand under his nutsack to massage the taunt balls, and resumed bobbing her head up and down. Only this time, she moved with speed, urgency, and a licentious need. That need—a desperate need—was to have her son ejaculate his hot cream down her eager throat and decadently enjoy its taste and forbidden nature.
The way the divorcee bobbed her head and sucked, it was one massive blur. Her vacuum suction was powerful and passionate, egged on by her own approaching climax thanks to her strumming fingers on her aroused clit. His stiffness lurched over her tongue.
“Ohhhh maaaa—!”
Mag’s son’s cock belched its first generous salvo of thick, white cum into her mouth. The hot magma hit the back of Mag’s throat, briefly startling her. Once the initial flavor was absorbed by her taste buds after swallowing, her wantonness was maximized. The next round she was not only prepared for, but eager for. That secondary shot was greedily ingested, and the taste, again, relished. As was the third, fourth, and so-on.
“Arrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!” exclaimed the climaxing stud.
Richie was like a fire hose, ferociously spewing his man-sauce in the receptive, willing, and needy orifice which was his mother’s mouth. The shameless divorcee was hell-bent on intaking the entire rich load. She gulped and swallowed crazily, lost on the forbidden release. Try as she might, the beauty could not swallow the complete discharge. It was just way too much. Semen dripped from the corners of her mouth and down her chin to his balls.
When Richie was depleted—in every sense of the word—Mag edged her lips one more time over the shriveled and sensitive penis, providing a final milking motion. After that she sat on her knees and wiped the precious spunk which clinged to her chin and the corners of her mouth. Then she licked the fingers clean, opening her mouth and revealing to the exultant son inside was a heavy, pearl web of wide and thin strands of his cum.
“Mmmmm, Richie, you taste great.”
Still catching his breath, the son replied “You suck great, Mom.”
