by alwayswantedto 07/11/09
"Isn't it, though?" Mom smiled.
She suddenly twisted around to face me straight on, dropping the magazine and pulling her skirt back to her knees.
"Show me what you're reading."
I turned my magazine around so Mom could look at it, disappointed that she had pulled her skirt down but pleased that her back was toward Dad and her open knees were now facing me and resting on my own.
"Can I look at yours?" I asked.
"Help yourself," Mom replied.
I reached under my magazine which Mom was holding in front of her and grabbed Mom's, twisting it around to face me. I pulled it toward me so I could see it under mine, until it slid off Mom's skirt, and fell onto her crossed calves. I let it go, allowing it to rest on her legs and mine, using my now free hands to hook Mom's hem with my thumbs and push her skirt higher on her thighs. The looseness of the skirt allowed me to push its middle almost up to her panties without dragging the sides back on the outside her legs, helped by Mom's hand resting firmly on her right thigh, the one closest to Dad.
I could now look directly down at Mom's open thighs, her lacy panties in clear view, and appear to be reading. I immediately noticed that the wider angle of Mom's legs caused the gash in the front of her panties to appear more pronounced.
I ventured forth with one hand, exploring the inner thigh of Mom's left leg, then shifted to enjoy the right when she didn't object. Unable to contain myself, I pushed my hand toward her panties, but hers appeared out of nowhere to block me. Mom shook her head slowly from side to side.
For a while, I contented myself with stroking Mom's thighs before I remembered that I had something she was interested in too. Under the cover of the magazine, I pulled the waistband of my pajamas over my cock and tucked it under my balls. Leaning forward, I pushed my cock down onto the nylon covering Mom's calves.
Mom quickly looked around the magazine at the bare cock lying across her legs, jerked a fast look at Dad, then returned her gaze. I held my magazine so only she and I could see what I was doing and moved my hips, sawing my cock across her nylons. Mom shook her head more emphatically.
Yes, I mouthed, nodding. I kept moving my hips.
Mom frowned and glanced back at Dad. She put her hand down to stop me, not realizing until too late what she had done. She was now holding my cock and, this time, it wasn't covered by an apron. We were skin to skin. Her delicate fingers felt wonderful and then fantastic as they curled around my shaft. I pushed, fucking the hole she had created in her hand. Mom's mouth dropped open, aghast, but she didn't pull her hand away.
I slid my hand up Mom's leg again and, this time, she didn't stop me. Pushing my fingers flat over her lacy mound, I stretched my thumb down, searching for and finding the cause of that gash, and dug my thumb into its depths as far as the panties would allow.
A commercial brought us suddenly to our senses and we both pulled back. We needn't have worried because Dad kept his nose buried in the Economist, but we both knew things were getting out of hand. If Mom had kept holding my cock, I would have tried to fuck her right there on the couch, Dad or no Dad, or at least launched into an involuntary burst of fucking motions as I spilled my seed on Mom's panties.
I jerked my head at the kitchen but Mom shook her head. I jerked it towards the stairs and she shook it again. I knew I couldn't stay there, so I pulled my pajamas up and, magazine covering my front as best I could, limped into the kitchen.
"What's the matter with Brent?" I heard Dad asking Mom. "Did he hurt himself?"
"Why?" Mom asked.
"He's limping," Dad replied. It sounded as if he was getting up. I panicked. How could I explain my raging boner if he saw it?
"You stay there." There was a lot of paper rustling, then, "I'll look after him." Footsteps padded across the carpet, then Mom appeared in the doorway. She leaned back to look at Dad. "He must have gone downstairs. I'll make sure he's alright." Mom's hand, inside the doorway, was waving me downstairs where I imagine she was going to give me a piece of her mind. I went.
I turned to watch Mom come down the stairs, loving the look of her legs, and tried to look up her skirt at those lacy panties, without success. Mom shooed me back, her flapping hand urging me into the laundry room. She followed me in.
"Did you actually hurt yourself?" Mom asked, leaning to the side to look down my legs and at my feet to see why I was limping.
I didn't answer. Instead, I grabbed both of her hanging tits and squeezed them hard enough to feel the nipples poking through her bra.
"Brent!" Mom gasped. "Stop that."
I kept mauling Mom's tits, mashing them against her chest.
"Don't. ... Not while your father's home," her voice was almost as raspy as mine.
I held her tits up and, with a final pass over their tips with my thumbs, relented, allowing them to drop free and watching them bounce to a standstill. Mom was breathing hard.
"What you did upstairs was crazy," she said.
I reached under Mom's skirt with my right hand and pulled it up until I was cupping those lacy, black panties. I rubbed her pussy through her panties and tugged her head back with a handful of hair. I kissed her open mouth and, while my tongue slid inside, let go of her hair to guide her right hand onto my hard cock, pressing it firmly against my pajamas.
Mom moaned into my mouth, so I shoved her hand inside my pajamas and let it go. Immediately, she took hold of my proud member, fingers wrapping lovingly around it. My right hand pushed down, dragging the panties away from her now wet pussy, far enough for me to get my hand directly on her and slip a couple of fingers into her cunt.
Mom's head started shaking but I raised my hand to keep her mouth on mine and started frigging her pussy. She didn't let go of my cock, so I knew she wasn't going to stop me, no matter how much she shook her head. I kept fingering her and when the kiss broke, I scraped clean laundry from the top of the dryer onto the floor, knelt down in front of Mom, and tugged her panties down her legs.
Mom didn't struggle until the panties were clearing her foot. I slid my hands behind her thighs and clutched her legs, cruelly gripping her flesh, opening her legs and pulling her gaping cunt toward my mouth.
"Omigod," Mom cried as my mouth enveloped her lips and my tongue snaked its way up her channel. "OMIGOD."
I moved my hands up to grip her ass, firmly clutching a cheek in each hand as Mom's own hands pulled my head tighter against her writhing pussy as she released a constant stream of appreciation.
"Omigod ... omigod ... ohhhhhhhh ... uhhhh ... unnnnngghh ... omigod ... ohhhhhhhhhhh."
Suddenly, her hands gripped me hard, holding me in so tight I couldn't breathe, not even through my nose. My face was flooded with a copious quantity of her juice in sequential tidal waves of effluent. When she was still, I stood, and just managed to catch her weight as she went limp in my arms.
I lifted Mom up and her arms curled around my shoulders. She opened her legs and held them wide when she felt me searching for her hole. After several attempts, I found it and slid in, to the sound of a long, pleased moan. To have a woman appreciate you like that. Holy fuck!
Thank god I ate her first. She was so wet, I just slid right in but I could tell her tight channel wasn't used to being filled like that as it grudgingly expanded to accommodate her new, more robust lover. Her son.
I didn't' waste any time. I banged Mom hard, urged on by her moans and grunts as she flopped around at the mercy of my eager thrusts. I was almost exhausted when I finally filled her with my spunk, my jiz running down the inside of both her legs, and mine trembling from the effort.
It was good that we had done it standing up. If I'd got her on the floor where I could push her legs back, or turned her onto her tummy, the slap of our thighs would have woken the dead.
* * * * * * *
I confirmed that the next day, on Sunday. Dad was out of the house with his golf bags by six and at 6:01 I was creeping into my parents' bedroom, stark naked. Mom was sleeping on her stomach. With tremendous care, I dragged the blankets away inch by inch until her body lay before me, covered by a conservative nightgown almost to the backs of her knees, legs open with the right one lifted and bent.
Carefully, I shifted my weight onto the bed and crawled between her open legs, then leaned forward to brace my weight with a hand on either side of her. She murmured something, her mind probably registering that my dad had come back to bed for some reason. She turned more fully onto her tummy, something she really shouldn't have done, not if she didn't want to get fucked hard. I lowered my hips between her open legs and skittered my cock along the sheet until it nudged against her bare pussy lips.
"No, Harold. Don't," Mom murmured. "Saturday was yesterday. You missed it."
So Dad had missed his weekly serving. It didn't sound as if Mom missed it but I'd make it up to her anyway, on his behalf. I pushed, my cockhead splitting her slit and pushing inside.
Mom's eyes flew open, suddenly awake, realizing this was no 'Harold'.
I pushed in a couple of inches, finding it a lot harder to breach her than the night before when she was soaking wet. I'll have to tongue her up first next time, I thought, but now it was too late. Mercilessly, I shoved more cock inside my mother's cunt. Instead of fighting me, Mom lifted her ass up so I could get more into her.
"Fuck me," she groaned.
So I did. I really whaled on her, holding her shoulders to keep her down, pulling her head up, gently, just so I could see her face, all sweaty and full of abandoned lust. It was a huge turn on to see how much she loved me fucking her. I spread her legs, then closed them again, sitting astride the back of her thighs. Sometimes I pulled her ass cheeks apart so I coiuld watch my cock disappearing into her and others I squeezed them together. I pulled her up onto her knees, squatted over her on my feet, then pushed her back onto the bed. It didn't matter what I did, each time she acted like it was even better that way.
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