Slowly, with much coaxing, she rose. Her hand still clutched my shaft. I pulled her up and carelessly kissed her again on her shining, wet mouth. While I did this my hands worked her shirt up, over the prodigious shelf of her chest. My fingers dug into her bra and hauled her enormous tits out of their cups and let the splash heavily against her body. I pushed them up and together, rubbing my thumbs roughly over her already stiffened nipples. I loved her breasts almost as much as I loved her. They had nourished me twice in my life. Once when I was born and again, only a few months ago, when I was feeling lost and alone in the world. I had not realized it then, but they had shown me a world I had not known existed. When love and lust filled virtually your every thought then the world is a very different place to live in. Happiness, the kind they write about in insipid romances, the kind I’d begun to doubt could ever exist, had come to fill every pore in my body and color every thought in my mind. I loved her so much that even being this close to her was not enough. The thought of parting this very evening caved a great hole in my chest.
I kissed down her neck, over her clavicle and across the great expanse of dense flesh of her chest. Though not as superhuman as they had been when we’d begun our tryst, back then they’d been inflated close to bursting with her over-productive mammary glands, they were still the biggest tits I’d ever encountered. They were as youthful and exuberant as she was and so sensitive she could not fight her moans as I slurped a fat nipple into my mouth.
As I suckled her, my hands worked on her jeans. My need had crystallized into a razor focus though, and the denim and her cotton panties seemed to melt away at my touch. I only rolled them down as far as her thighs before I slid my hand over her coarse hair to cup her dripping sex. Squeezing it was like wringing out a sponge soaked in hot water. When my fingers pierced her folds a rivulet of liquid trickled down my hand and dripped onto her bare thigh. I’d never known a woman who had a need for me like my mother did, whose body responded to mine like we were linked together and, once joined, functioned almost as a single entity.
While I moved from one nipple to the other, licking wide circles around her broad areolae, I massaged fingers into her saturated cleft. She whimpered and clumsily worked around me to force her jeans down the rest of the way to the floor.
When she managed to step out of them, clutching my head deep into her cleavage so as not to overbalance, I seized her under her armpits and hoisted her bodily into the air. She threw her arms and legs around me at the same time, clinging to me as I held her suspended, and merged her mouth once more with mine, our tongues performing a formless dance in the slippery depths of our mouths.
With her arms clasped behind my neck, I was able to release my hold on her long enough to reach under the flare of her wonderfully plump bottom and grip my cock. It was tacky with her saliva and so flint-like in hardness it almost felt brittle. I fought to bend it under her body, shoving roughly along the line of her cleft and over her asshole before jamming it with little finesse into the tight, but well lubricated, crevice that awaited me. She let out a long, shuddering sigh as her body slid down my shaft.
I held her like that for a long moment, our breathing hot and loud in each other’s ears. Her pussy was like an aperture into the divine. There was no feeling like having her clamped down on my cock. But this was but an eye in the storm of our desire. Soon she was mewling, rolling her hips against me, and trying to squeeze me in just a few more millimeters. My body could not resist and began to move in concert with hers. There was no room in the tiny closet and we thudded into shelves, walls, and the door as we began to pummel each other. Though we kissed lovingly, the sex was combative, even animalistic. We rutted against each other, our crotches slapping together mercilessly. There were barely restrained cries of pleasure and kneading, groping, squeezing explorations of each other’s body that would have been painful if they hadn’t been so exquisite.
As the pressure built up to intolerable levels within us, I turned with her to pin her back to the door. Holding her there I let my hips free of the last tethers of restraint. They slammed into her with all my force. Her teeth were bared in a grimace of pleasure. Her huge tits flopped and sloshed with perilous force. As I bucked into her with blurring speed, I bit down on her neck with enough force to leave teeth marks. I felt as much as heard the shout of pleasure that resonated out of her throat as I jacked her up to the very pinnacle of her tipping point.
My muscles were cramping with fatigue and the approaching climax. My last few remaining thrusts punched through the soft, cloying tissues within her. Each one felt like the stroke of a pump, inflating the head of my cock, bigger and bigger until, finally, it burst. Thick, hot cum exploded deep inside her. My mom threw her head back and let out a voiceless scream as the flood inside her tipped her over the edge and she clamped down with violent muscle spasms on my cock. Her body continued to wring the cum out of me with spasmodic clutches of her internal muscles.
The violent climax drained us both. I nearly dropped her as she clumsily descended from me. As my cock slipped free of her slit my cum poured out of her, coating her thighs and running down to her calves.
“Shit, that’s a lot,” she panted as she tried to herself on shaky legs.
I nodded. We were both hot and sweaty from the stifling cupboard and the rampant fucking, and I was a little preoccupied licking the salty taste of her sweat off her tits. But I managed a muffled, “It’s been a very long two weeks, Mom.”
“Too long,” She said in a wavering voice.
I broke from the kisses I was raining down on her huge breasts and looked up at her. Her eyes were liquid with unshed tears. “We can do this, Mom,” I began confidently and then ended meekly, “Can’t we?”
She hugged me to the pillowy softness of her bosom and sniffed, “We have to. I wish to God we didn’t, but it’s the only way. The only way we can keep Ian without looking over our shoulders and the only way you and I can ever be together. The world just won’t understand.”
I rose and hugged her tight to me, saying, “Yeah, I suppose. Once more it’s you and me against the world, Mom.” I felt her hot tears soaking into my T-shirt. Her sobs were silent, but her grip on me was almost unendurable. We clung to each other for as long as we could. We had nothing left to say to each other. We knew what was in each other’s hearts as well as we knew our own.
When we eventually broke free, a feeling like tearing open a partially healed wound, things progressed far too quickly. We dressed, left the cupboard, which was to be our last bastion of comfort for a long time, and set about the final preparations.
It was after midnight when we stood together in the kitchen one final time. She’d showered and changed and, despite being a little wan, looked fresh and heart-wrenchingly lovely. I wiped a last tear off my mom’s cheek and then donned a ridiculous pink wig we had left over from some dress-up party my mom went to years ago. She even managed a weak smile when she saw the full effect. We’d reasoned that no one would see the color in the night, but the shape mattered and my mom had spent a long time working on the wig with scissors to get as close to her length and style as possible.
The last kiss I gave her would have been chaste if it were not so charged with emotion and repressed desire. “You ready?” I said through a deep breath.
She nodded, “All set. I’ll wait 10 minutes after you leave then take Ian and go. I’m hoping he won’t wake up.”
“He won’t, he’s a good kid,” I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I’m not sure it carried across. “Time to go,” I gave her hand a squeeze, “Are you sure you won’t tell me where you’re going?”
She shook her head sadly and said, “I wish I could, you know that, Chase. But I can’t have you perjure yourself for me. When the time is right, I’ll let you know. You just keep an eye out for the signal.”
“I will. Every single day. I love you,” I said, feeling the lump growing in my throat as I drifted backward, our hands breaking contact.
“I love you too,”
I turned then and forced myself to walk out of the kitchen, knowing that if I stayed longer or looked back I wouldn’t be able to leave her. I had to do this to help us get free and clear of the threat of Brian and to give us a fresh start.
The garage door closed behind me and I was alone in the darkness.
My mother’s plan was simple but less likely to fail because of it. When she explained it to me I begged her to reconsider, to take me with her. But she calmly explained why that was impossible. She would not let me quit college when I was so close to completing my undergrad. She also needed misdirection to escape the watching eyes. I was that misdirection.
In my wig, I opened the garage door and reversed her car out into the street. I relied on the dim suburban lighting to convince the jaded PI sitting in his Crown Vic that my head was in fact the silhouette of a woman. A woman who drove like she was in a hurry. I felt both elation and sinking dread as the car parked outside our house flared its lights and peeled out of its parking place. My job was mostly done, all I had to do after that was stay well ahead of the driver tailing me and lead them on a merry chase across half the county.
The sinking dread I felt was for the knowledge that right at the moment my mother, Ian’s carrier tucked under one arm, would be stealing into the backyard. She would slip through a hole I’d made in the neighbor’s fence earlier that day, sneak past their house, open a garden gate I had disabled the lock on, and make her way down the street to meet a waiting taxi on the corner. After that, I had no idea. She was just going to disappear and I had to hope that soon she would be in contact to let me know she’d made it somewhere safe.
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