For 1/2 an hour (I know because I kept looking at the clock) I tried in vain to ‘drop off’. It was no good, whilst the volume was a lot lower, there seemed to be a crash every time I was just about to drift off. I sighed; I would have to tell him to turn it down.
Just as I reached for the doorknob my head was filled with shiny rock-hard phallus. My eyes widened and I was now 100% awake. The sleepy part of me hoped he would not be masturbating, but (if I’m honest) most of me hoped he would be.
He was.
He same sight greeted me as I got to the banister. Oh, that glorious erect manhood. Shiny with precum, hard as steel. My son working his foreskin over his ample helmet. His forearms tense with effort. The strength and virility of the scene was making me wet. I stood there for what seemed like hours, transfixed, hypnotised by the magnificent cock.
He looked up. I froze to the spot. I saw his 1/2 smile out of the corner of my eye. I could not tear my gaze from his cock. I returned the half smile without looking at him in the eye. He reached for the TV remote, muted it, closed his eyes, and laid his head back.
The movement of his hand clashed with the almost strobe effect of the TV. It seemed like his cock was getting bigger. I noticed the moving shadow of his jacking arm on the wall. I could hear him groan and I could smell him. I have never seen anything so erotic in all my life and my pussy echoed the thought as a very tiny dribble of honey flowed down my leg until it evaporated just above my knee.
He was on the short strokes now and I was willing him to cum. I wanted him to cum for me, his mum. Finally he groaned and spewed cum over his chest. The strength of his orgasm meant some of it splattered on the sofa above his shoulder. I continued to watch as he slowed and finally stopped.
His bum sank back into the sofa, and he relaxed. He slowly moved his head toward me giving me ample time to retreat. I didn’t and he opened his eyes. We stared deep into each other, expressionless. Then we swapped that very slight smile.
I turned and went back to my bed. I knew what I was going to do, and I guess Harry did too. I left my bedroom door wide open and pulled off my t-shirt as I approached my bed.
I was naked and had no time for a vibrator. I wanted relief and now!! I lay beck on my bed and with no lead up caresses, I went straight for my clit with one hand, while sloshing around my labia with the other.
My eyes were closed as I quickly settled into a moderate strumming rhythm. God, I was wet. Again, my head was full the sight of Harry’s glorious cock being masturbated by a strong forearm. I heard the floorboard creak, I didn’t open my eyes, concentrating on release.
I did not hear the bathroom light go on. Without breaking my rhythm, I opened my eyes and titled my head to the door. There was my Adonis, cock pointing to the ceiling, chest glistening with his own cum. My eyes widened but my fingers never missed a beat. I was on my way to another orgasm in front of my son. Whilst my eyes were locked with Harry, my focus drifted back to my needy pussy. I smeared honey all over my labia as my fingers were a blur over my clit. My hips twitched involuntarily as I reached the plateau. Thank fuck for that, I knew I was going to orgasm. I was going to orgasm for my son.
Then I noticed movement. Not wanking as I expect but walking!! Harry, cock in hand, was slowly and deliberately walking towards me. He held my gaze as he neared the foot of the bed. I continued to jill. He stopped to take in the sights, sounds and smell of me. Displaying all of my sex to my son. I was so wet he would be able to smell my honey. Smell how turned on I was. The pheromones would be pulling him closer. Making him want more. My pussy screamed for more.
He moved closer and I held my breath in anticaption. A small part of me wondered what he would do next, but mostly I was concentrating on the approaching tsunami. He moved forward and knelt on the bed between my wantonly spread legs. We still held each other’s gaze, albeit that mine was through half closed eyes. I still didn’t know what he was going to do but frankly I didn’t care. I imagined him lapping at my pussy, eating me out as I orgasmed on his face, smearing my juice all over him.
He leaned forward and placed his left hand on the bed next to my head whilst still holding his cock. Then it hit me. He was going to fuck me. My simple world came crashing around my ears. This was just supposed to be mutual masturbation. Helping each other relieve sexual tension. I never once envisaged sex. Actually, not true; I did envisage sex with a wonderful cock, just not with my son.
He paused, still holding my gaze. I froze. I was naked, lying on my back with my legs apart exposing myself in all my glory to my son. He was over me, naked, with his warm steel-hard cock pointing towards his origin. My pussy screamed “fuck me”. Mother shouted “no, not this”. My body didn’t move; like a rabbit stuck in the headlights. The world stood still as a titanic battle raged in my head.
Harry could gain no impression of this battle. As far as he was concerned; There was a naked woman below him, reeking of sex, wet with anticipation. This woman had masturbated for him twice. She did not move as he mounted the bed, didn’t move as he towered over her. Didn’t close her legs as he pointed his cock to heaven. He was a virgin, and this was it, his opportunity to be a man. His hormones didn’t want permission they drove him on, but he didn’t want rape. This was his mum and he loved her. He wanted to make love with her. He didn’t want to ‘take’ her. This was why everything he had done was slow and deliberate giving her every opportunity to say “no”. A “no” he would respect, even now as he was poised for copulation. He waited as his breathless but immobile mother lay beneath him.
My unresolved dilemma raged on. Every part of my sexual being wanted this man in me. The dirtiest part of me wanted my son in me, she wanted my son to fill me with his fertile seed. Mother was still chuntering on about consequences, society blah blah.
My body remained immobile. Harry’s head moved, he looked down to his cock and my pussy. I followed his gaze; they were only inches apart. I had a hand covering my entrance, not out of any sense of protection, but because I had been using it to spread honey over my pussy lips. I became conscious of our breathing, the smell of my pussy, his armpits and his cum still on his chest. The world stood still. He was waiting for me. He was over me making his intentions clear. It was now up to me. My body ached for his cock, my soul wanted it in me, wanted us to move; make love in wonderful union. I wanted to be stuffed by my own son. This was so wrong, wasn’t it?
My hand moved; the question was answered. I had given him permission. He looked up and our gaze once again locked as he lowered himself to me, guiding his cock to the place it should never be. My wet pussy lips kissed his virgin cockhead, and I felt a jolt of electricity. He pushed his head between my honeyed lips and into the entrance of my love canal. I no longer felt guilty I wanted the cock in me, deep in me. I pushed my hips up engulfing his cockhead into my wet love tube. He sighed, “oh god, yes.”
We continued to stare into each other’s soul as he pushed further into me, removing his hand to allow full penetration. Finally, he bottomed out in me. We didn’t move almost unsure as to what to do next. I was full of my son’s cock, did I really want him to cum in me? He had lost his virginity; did he really want to cum in his own mother? Yet again the world stood still.
We had done what no mother and son should; driven on by a primeval desire. Harry had impaled his own mother and I was a willing accomplice to this debauchery. It was if penetration was the endgame, and we were usure as to what to do next. My mind drifted to the wonderful feeling of being full of a rock-hard cock and I knew what I wanted. I wanted movement. While our gaze was locked, I put my hand on the back of his neck and slowly pulled him to me. We kissed so gently, our lips barely touching. I loved this man to the pit of my soul. I opened my mouth and licked his lips. I was tempting him; I was telling him what I wanted.
We started to snog; our tongues determined to enjoy each other’s mouths. I was completely stuffed with hot iron cock and my hips, almost imperceptibly, moved against his body whilst we kissed like teenagers. With this action I was able to grind my clit into his pubic bone as the whole length of my pussy gripped him in a wet vice.
He withdrew virtually out of me. I felt so empty. I felt my labia claw at his cockhead. Then he thrust back into me powerfully, piston like. I yelped into his mouth as he hit my cervix. He slightly withdrew his head in concern, but I increased the pressure on the back of his neck. I didn’t want him to stop I wanted him to fuck me slowly and deeply while we shared sloppy kisses. He obliged, again withdrawing from me only to fill me yet again.
His cock was everything I imagined. Long, wide and so very hard. At first it was big enough to be slightly uncomfortable, but I was quickly getting used to it, aided of course by the flood of lubrication my pussy was producing. I groaned into his mouth as he continued to fuck me slowly but powerfully. I thought “this boy is going to make someone very happy one day”. My lips smiled through my kiss when I thought “this boy is going to make me very happy tonight”.
Our hips were moving in perfect union as he continued to piston. I tilted my hips upwards to gain some traction on his cock. This had the effect of squeezing it against my pubic bone. He obviously liked this as he removed his lips, groaned and thrust into me harder. I yelped again. He looked down, slightly concerned. “fuck me, Harry”; I answered his concern.
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