You moan. “White with the cream soup, yes?”
I nod and bring you a glass of wine. It’s nearly five pm, and we both think they are not coming home.
I started the potatoes, cutting them into cubes and the taking the eyes out of them, taking most of the skin off. I cook five pieces of bacon, garlic, onions, and red bell peppers. I took out the crisp bacon. I add the vegetables to the pot, cook them till soft, and take them out. Wiping the pot with a paper towel and put the veggies back in, adding butter, flour and spices, paprika, black pepper, and turmeric when the flour is cooked for about a minute or so.
I added a splash of wine, moving it around and watching the alcohol burn off, adding a splash more when that was done. Next, I added my homemade ham stock made from a ham hocks. Finally, I took about half of the potatoes, pushed them through a strainer, and added the rest turned the heat up, brought it to a simmer, gave it ten minutes, added heavy cream and almond milk, and reduced the heat as I warmed up the oven stirring between steps.
I put mayonnaise on the outside of the whole wheat bread and butter the bread on the inside got slices of three kinds of cheese, sliced fresh tomato, put a few pieces on each, added a bit of bacon for each sandwich, a thin slice of raw onion and two wedges of a ripe avocado a sprinkle of spices. I close them up and stick them in the cast iron griddle in the oven. As I stir the soup, I will add some crumbled bacon to the top as a garnish.
I see the sandwich needs turning to flip, and I do. I go out and kiss my Mom’s head. I see you have not touched your drink. I return with the TV table meant for two; if you sit close, I bring the soup out. I stuck a bread stick on top of the cup. I bring in the grilled cheese, all golden and dripping in cheese, the layers a different color, and a few small batch chips.
Mom moaned when she tasted the soup; it was a light turn-on. My Mom dipped the bread stick in the soup, and you had it in your mouth as you noticed I was not eating. Or moving, you look over why and you must have seen your self the soup dripping off the phallic-shaped bread stick, the cum dripping off. I mean soup, you knew, and I knew we laughed nervously like it was funny.
I’m still a boy, so I say. “Jill, that would be so worth the grounding, but I am afraid I have to return the favor to you. Would that not make you grounded also?”
Mom grabbed me and says. “How you get so good kissing you a slut baby kissing all the girls?”
I say. “Well, I know that every girl I kissed or hoped to do more with B told you about Mom.”
Mom laughed, saying. “Betty told your Dad she did not tell me you did.”
You sucked the oil from the sandwich off your fingers. I moan, watching you. I do the same; you sigh, also.
Jill says. “It’s why I’m not drinking. We are very close to making this old girl happy. Your kiss inflamed me. It’s been so long since that shit kissed me, and he never turned me inside out. You must think I’m a slut, but it’s been five years since we listened to something sexy and did the sex thing. He told me it was me. I’ve gotten fat and not tight down there after two kids.”
I stood up fast, livid; my face was without color, and my fist tightened till my knuckles cracked like bolts snapping every one popped. My Mom looked at me, startled. You reached out, holding my fist; your warm hands melted my fist, and my body touched your love.
I say. “That’s Fucking new; I feel like fighting Dad for the insults to my Queen. Instead, I need to ask Sis if she wants hot soup and a sandwich to tell us if I can kiss again without worrying about them coming home.”
Mom says. “That fucker talked me into putting a tracer on her phone now watch your language you got me doing it. We take the things to the kitchen as I send a text. “I got a return Eating Pizza off a six-pack. Go fuck yourself.”
I show it to you, and you show me the tracker app. It’s a hotel that Dad’s work uses for bigwigs. Dad is in charge of the room booking when they come into town. That’s all it could show; it might work to go there, but we got the videos. Mom and I are loading the dishwasher setting it to start at one am.
I say. “A very sick part of me wants to watch my Sister, the bitch; she is fucking hot. But one word Dad I can watch incest porn knowing it’s not real, but sorry, I saw it was Dad without any doubt. I thought about working on the phone, putting it in the mason jar, filling it with rice, and placing it in the bag. Double checking on my laptop on tracking app, it read it had to alert his phone that another user it would tell them someone knew where they were. I go and cancel the settings so glad I checked before I clicked yes.
I changed out the SIM card and looked at what was there. Two texts stood out; one was. “We need blow to do the beach scene, baby,” And there were some dirty photos of a very hot Sister to go with it. The second one read. “We can put it in my shaving cream can-a-way. Can it has real cream in it so it has enough for a few days, but it has a faked bottom? I pick up the day before.”
It came with hard dick pics. Talk about gross Dad did not have a six-pax.
I showed the two texts to Mom and sent the files; a few had them talking about going for the savings and the college fund and turning them into gold. I made a point of sending these files to both the head guy and the head of the team, noting I had done so.
I put my old phone on the charger because, with just as little as I used it, it’s almost dead. So I sat down next to Mom, and she was understandably mad, but there was something else fear. It was fear of what comes next with Dad saying Mom let herself go.
I say. “You trust me, Jill? I can’t let you believe what that dick told you to come with me only if you trust me?”
You nodded, and I led you to the full-length mirrors in the dining room. I’ll stop you. I raise your sweater up over your head. You stand like you are fat and naked, but you’re wearing a tee shirt and my old sweatpants. I pull your sweats down your black panties stand out with the white tee. I draw your shirt off. Your breast was quite lovely. I thought to tell you, but I knew you would run if I did. I took your panties off, and your nerves put your hands over your breast and pussy. I kissed your neck your hands held onto my hands.
I tease your ear as I say. “Open your eyes, sexy look at what I see.”
My cock was hard in my place behind you. I pressed it into you, licked your neck, and you shook as I breathed my hot breath where I licked your nipples popped. Your lips are engorged a few drops glisten in your pussy hairs that show your eyes are watching me in the mirror as my kisses get hotter. You turn your head to say no, we can’t, but my lips found yours, and I stole your words from you. My hand teased your breast, and your nipples were pinched. Then, my hand finds your pussy wet and hot.
I say. “Again, Jill, watch the mirror. I won’t tell you again. I know this is not what sons do, but you must know you’re not some used-up hag. Your fucking hot, Mom. my friends call you a Milf.”
Looking at the mirror, you say. “What’s a Milf Dan?”
Your body shakes as my fingers flick your clit. Your wet enough. I say. “Mothers, I like to fuck.”
You sucked air in; you swooned in my arms; you could hardly stand. I could not tell if you were pulling away. I put my fingers together two as I push them inside your pussy slowly. You moan, trying to squirm, but you have not said no.
I say. “Louse my ass; you’re tight as a virgin, Mom. I’m going to love making you come. This should do it.”
Two fingers fucking you, making wet noises as my thumb flicks your clit. I kiss your neck, moving down to your shoulder. I look up to see if your eyes are open, and they are. I suck hard, and the point on your shoulder where you moan when I rub your shoulders, I find and suck. Your hand moves over mine at your pussy as your other hand moves mine to your breast. Your moans start, and your legs won’t stay still. I sucked hard and held my thumb in place, pushing against your clit. I feel it pulse to your heart.
You scream your head off. “My gods, man, you’re making me feel sexy, sin or not.”
You came, and your legs buckle under you. I held you up. Told you how sexy you were till you came back to earth. OK, maybe not ground, but you turned and winked at me. My Mom says. “Your turn, stud.”
I say. “That’s a flat no for me, dear. I did this to show you are not out of shape and you are still so hot, and after your divorce, if you feel my love. I will in a second but not yet, Jill. I have your back, dear now I need a couple minutes. Damn Jill, you look like you have been made love to by your lover. You need to shower, Mom; you look like you had great sex.”
You kissed me and say. “You’re going to get yours in due time, Son, in due time. You are so unlike your father or Sister. Thank you, baby; you are the best thing in my world.”
You held my cock in your hands through my sweats, but my precum made a wet spot that went to the shape of moms hand. So Mom went one way, and I went another way back to my room. With a few strokes at most, I came in a hurry; it made me feel hot.
We met again on the couch; Mom made hot cocoa and homemade marshmallows. We watched the 1974 Black Christmas. It was old; no one had phones, DVDs, big TVs, computers, or the internet. So what the hell was this? The cars were all stick, and no sex toys or lube. What the hell, indeed. We watched some game of thrones. The first fifteen minutes had a hot sex scene, and they shocked us because they were brother and Sister. Mom looked at me and paused the show.
You looked at me and say. “No, your too smart to do your Sister. You know you be under your Sister’s thumb blackmail would be your end. You are too smart to get caught in that, but have you been tempted?”
Leave a Reply