I yelled out whatever came to mind, shouting something with each stroke I slammed into my mother’s pussy. “Bitch! Cunt! Whore! Slut!”
“Yes,” Mommy said. “She’s all those things. But we’re showing that cunt, that slut.”
To be pounding my mother’s pussy while hearing such language coming out of her mouth, the pleasure was insane. I came harder in my mom’s pussy than I had in a long, long time. I collapse into her. Just like that, all the spite, the anger, the hostility was gone. I was relaxed. I was free. And my beautiful mother was lying next to me. She took me in her arms and pulled me toward her breasts. I started sucking on them, and my mother reached down to my limp cock. Within a few gentile strokes, I was rock hard again. Mom continued to stroke my cock while I sucked on her luscious tits.
“I feel so much better,” I said.
“You’re my son. I’ll always be here for you. I know you’re trapped in a bad marriage, but I’ll help you through it. If you want understanding, I’m here for you. If you want a loving, sensuous fuck, I’ll be here for you. If you need a spite-fuck, you can always come and pound your mother’s pussy.”
Things between my wife and I never got better. But with my mother close by, and a new understanding about our relationship, I knew things would at least be bearable. And to my surprise, I soon was having more sex with my mother than I was with my wife.
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