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Questioning Mom

12

"Now slide it out of your mouth while it's still hard and wet. Kiss the tip and then feed it into your hot, little cunt. And tell me exactly how that feels, Mom."

She hesitated too long, so I had to slap her across the mouth, THWAP! Not hard enough to loosen teeth but loud enough to get her attention, and leave a small reminder on her rosy cheek. "Do you need another lesson or are you ready to do as you're told? I can make this more difficult for you, if you won't behave."

"I'm so sorry Master. Please don't punish me." She whimpered softly and lightly trembled as her hand haltingly guided my sloppy, shiny cock between her pink folds. And then with a little pressure from her hand, and her hips stretching wide, she forced my thick shaft, inch by inch, tightly into her long-empty snatch. She sucked in her breath and moaned abit, as she was still getting used to the sensation of a man's large, solid cock filling her most sacred chasm. "Is that good Master? I only want to please you. I love having your big cock inside me, even more than I love sucking it for you. Please fill me up and fuck me all night long."

"That's better slut-mom, now tell me about your skanky pussy." I wanted to break her down, and I knew by the way she winced and squirmed that to her, crude, coarse language was just as taboo as fucking her son.

She stopped again, her eyes wide open and a bitter curl on her lips. Then she saw me raise my hand and stop the rocking motion of my cock in her hole. She knew another harsh lesson was imminent. She blurted out, "my pussy has been so empty for all these years. Finally I've found the big cock I always wanted. I'll trim my bush or shave it bald. Whatever you like best. And I'll suck your cock and coat it with my saliva or lube, to ease it into my tight cunt. I'll never fuck anyone else ever again. My pussy belongs to you Master. My whole body belongs to you. My pussy, my tits, my mouth, anything anyway.

I was satisfied at the moment with that answer. Her training is taking hold. I'm turning my mother into my sex-slave. Time for my reward. I had her laying on her back completely naked, her legs spread wide inviting my entry. And she had already learned to squeeze her mammoth boobs and offer them up to me, for my pleasure.

I hoisted her ankles around my neck and shimmied in closer to her tight snatch. My hands reached for those two gigantic tits, as they flopped loosely atop her chest, and I plunged my straining cock deep inside her hot box. I instructed her to rub her pouty clit as I banged away, and then I kneaded those fleshy pillows. With my thick cock driving inside her and her soft tits bouncing in figure-eights on her torso, I had to reflect on how this all began.

It was just the two of us. My mom Maryanne, a widowed homebody and myself. She was in her mid-forties, about 5'7", a tad overweight, with shoulder-length blondish hair. My bastard father had thankfully died before he could make anything official with his slutty mistress. So we were able to keep the house and live comfortably these past few years. My mom's sister would drop by once in a while for visits or dinners, but it was mostly just us in a small home on a quiet street.

My mom was a good mother. Caring and doting but kind of meek. She was plump with sagging, heavy tits and a round, soft rear-end. Around the house, she wore loose tees and baggy shorts, often without shoes or make-up and usually with her hair down or in a ponytail. I certainly never thought of her in a sexual way and though occasionally I caught a glimpse of her nipples on a cold day, or her generous cleavage as she leaned across the dinner table, I at no time, tried to catch her in a compromising position. It's funny how you never think of your mother as a sexual being. It didn't enter my mind that my mother could ever have fantasies or desires beyond being a wife and mother. And to imagine that she would sometimes think about oral sex or spankings seemed like an insult to me. I figured big tits and a warm, tight pussy were wasted on old broads.

I'm a few years past high-school and can't find steady employment so I work for a friend doing odd jobs. Some days moving furniture, others shoveling snow or patching roofs. I'm about six-foot and one-ninety. Sturdy but not particularly well-built. I have dirty-blonde hair like my mom and the same light blue eyes. My shoulders are wide and my arms are strong but I have a slight beer-gut and I admit to being abit lazy.

As I've grown older and we got used to spending so much time together, our relationship seemed to become more like roommates than family. I was the bread winner and paid the bills, doing whatever chores and repairs as needed. She shopped, cooked and cleaned and we often played cards or watched movies until bedtime.

After awhile she took to calling me "the man of the house," or "master of the keep." And I sometimes referred to her as "my serving wench," or "the chamber maid." These terms were meant in jest and were often accompanied by a friendly smack on the rump or an obsequious bow. And there were many instances of her massaging my aching shoulders or me rubbing her tired legs. Looking back now, I see a lot of physical contact and sexual innuendo.

I would sometimes draw her a warm bath with fragrant oils and she would make my bed and lay out new clothes that she had purchased for me. So we innocently caught each other in various stages of undress and often made jokingly lewd, or obscene remarks and comments on our anatomy.

One night I passed her in the hall as she was heading towards the bath. She had a big towel wrapped around her otherwise naked body, and as I stepped aside, I playfully tugged at the bottom of it. For a moment it slipped down past her big tits, fully exposing her puckered, pink areolae. She scrambled to cover herself and blushed deeply red, then scampered into the bathroom nervously laughing. From behind, I could see her ass-cheeks bounce as the towel was cinched higher up her body, and then she quickly closed the door.

Two things occurred to me then. First was that before, she had always worn a gown and robe at bedtime. Secondly, she had only turned to smile awkwardly and blush. There was no rebuke or scold. I didn't think much more about it but the image remained seared in my mind. My mom allowing me to see her big breasts, whether by accident or not, and the sight of her bare ass as she wobbled down the hall. It was the first time that I could remember actually picturing what my mother looked like nude.

For the next few days I began to visualize her body beneath whatever she had on. I watched as her flimsy bras tried to contain her double-d's. Climbing stairs, my eyes bounced with each shift of her ample butt-cheeks. Her bare legs revealed large, taut muscles at her calves and thighs that I had never noticed. And when she stood on her toes reaching for the top shelves, I spotted those nice legs and the small shirt riding up to expose her muffin-top belly peeking over her shorts. Then further up, those big boobs stood out proudly, the erect nipples poking through the thin cotton. And they shook like Jello as she landed softly on bare feet.

I found my cock getting hard while I watched her and getting stiffer still, when I stole away to my room to digest these emotions. I pounded away at my rigid rod with an image of an older woman kneeling before me, and a deviant desire to control and rape her.

I know I'm not sexually attracted to my mother. But does my swollen cock know better? My mom is not flaunting herself infront of me all of a sudden. But does my cock see hidden signs through all that? There are no incestuous thoughts flying between us. Then why is my cock always so damn hard when I see her now?

One day after work, I was indulging in my favorite pastime. Sitting at an outdoor bistro sipping a beer and watching the pretty ladies. Then another revelation hit me like a hammer. I was looking past the young ones and zoning in on their moms or other older women in the court yard. I spied the droop of a slightly heavier bust line. I noticed their laughlines or the crowsfeet around their worn eyes. The heavier walk but a more obvious mature appearance. I was filled with visions of tearing the shirt off of one of those older gals and shoving my cock up her tight pussy. I could hear her plead with me to rape her horny ass. Then she would drop to her knees and beg to be allowed to suck me.

And another odd bolt hit me. These young girls may possess something that the older ones no longer have, but the MILFs have something now, that the young ones can never imagine. I don't know what "that" is. But it's like a nurturing instinct combined with a care-free sexual dynamic. So that if she finds the right young guy who sparks her motherly side, he can bring out the devilish feelings she has hidden away. This is the kind of jumbled logic that I often use to make sense of my primal urgings. Instead of visiting a psychologist to confirm my diagnosis, I went to the local porno gallery. I should not have been surprised to find an enormous section devoted to incest, mom/son and various age- and dominance pleasures.

I sheepishly purchased a few hard-core spank mags and a couple of raunchy videos featuring older women gagged and tied, while young guys alternately spanked and fucked them. It only took a few days until the magazines were wrinkled and sticky. Also, I could instantly skip to the video scenes of motherly blowjobs and obedience training. My jerk-off fantasies were soon completely populated with older women begging me to dominate them. And I soon found that my cock enlarged at any thought of a submissive MILF.

I rushed home one evening to watch my movies and after a half-hour of sweaty, self-indulgence, I laid back on my bed exhausted and wrung dry. When I recovered enough to extract the CD it occurred to me that I had not put it in the machine to begin with. It was already in there and cued up to an unusual scene. I was puzzled for a minute until I noticed clean laundry and brush-marks on the carpet from the vacuum. A further scan of the room showed that the porn rags had been moved and obviously perused.

Well, she was in my room often enough that I could not expect her to shield her eyes. And though she's my mother, I know she is still a woman with needs. And now I've discovered that older women, even moms, enjoy a vigorous, wild sex-life. My cock understood that fact before my brain did. It was staring up at me, ready for another tug; and I had new, exciting ammunition ready to launch my fantasies. It was possible that my Mom was reveling in my porn stash as much as I was. I began to imagine scenarios of my mother wanting me to fuck her. It was a crude, naughty feeling; but my cock jumped to attention.

After dinner Mom told me to sit on the couch and relax, she would wash the dishes and then bring us both a beer. After all as she said, "you're the Master of the manor, and your wishes should be obeyed." We both laughed and I headed off to the living room and a ballgame. I heard her fill the sink and rattle some plates. About two innings later, I was propped on the recliner and Mom appeared with a beer in each hand.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was pinned atop her head. Loose, sweaty strands dangled down her neck and a few light tendrils lay plastered in her deep cleavage. The steamy water had added color to her cheeks and brightened the icy glow of her cool, blue eyes. There was still a film of soap suds on her arms and wet spots on her clingy shirt. It made the flimsy material translucent. She wore a thin bra that could not conceal her moist, heaving breasts. And when she knelt down at my side and offered a beer, I could see clearly down the front of her shirt. My attention not to mention my cock, was instantly aroused. She watched apprehensively as I gazed at her sexy, sweaty body. When our eyes met, she dropped her lids and blushed a deeper shade of red. But she only smiled demurely and remained kneeling at my feet.

My cock was again three steps ahead of me and tented mightily in my shorts. I was aroused and embarrassed at the same time. She gulped down what I discovered was her second beer, and rose shakily to her feet, brushing my rising cock as she did. "I'm sorry if I kept My Master waiting for his drink. I don't want him to have to spank me for disappointing him. I better go jump in the tub now and get ready for my lonely bed. The next time Master pulls my towel away, I may want to be fresh and enticing." She giggled seductively and padded up the stairs, leaving me to ogle at her backside and roughly fondle my front side. My mind exploded with pure lust. I could almost hear my Mom, "When are you going to finally fuck me? It will only take one time to make me your slave. I want my son to be my master."

A barrage of incestuous imagery rolled through my polluted mind. Was my Mom feeling horny? Was my Mom exploring the same sex fantasies that I had? Was my Mom offering herself to me? The only decision I could make at this moment was to chug my beer and grab another one fast. I returned to my chair and as I settled in, I saw one of my sex magazines tucked into the cushions with the page opened to photos of an older woman being rudely dominated and abused. In one, she was bound and bent over a chair being fucked in her ass by a young stud. In another, the lady was on her knees with a big dildo in her snatch, as she sucked a giant stunt-cock. There were many more dog-eared pages and I had not left this magazine here. Was there any chance that while I was at work, my Mom watched hard-core porn and played with herself, thinking of me?

I was roused from my musings when I heard the bathroom door open and the footfalls of my mother as she trooped down the hall to her bedroom. Stoked by a little alcohol for courage and steeled by the idea that a lonely, horny MILF,(My MILF), was only a few feet away, I began to climb the stairs. This could be my strongest cum-shot ever. With each step, I wrestled with the notion that there is something seriously wrong with rushing off to my room just to whack-off to the idea of having sex with my Mom. Yet as I approached the upper landing, my cock was poking through my trousers and my hand was stroking it determinedly. I was just about to head to my room and finish this taboo climax, when I spotted the half-opened door to my mother's room and the strange shadows cast on the wall.

It was with sincere trepidation that I tip-toed to the entrance. She always closed her door at night, and I was further shocked to find her sitting on her bed, back to me, looking into a full-length mirror, and working something rapidly between her legs. In the short time it took for my eyes to adjust to the soft candle light; I could see she was naked, her warm, pink body slathered in a scented lotion. Her head lolled back and forth, sweaty hair tossed, while she moaned and mumbled something erotically subdued. I would swear that she murmured phrases such as, "fuck me now," and "I want your strong cock."

I was frozen in place, not sure of what to do; but painfully aware that my cock was solid as an iron bar and straining under the rapid shuffling of my sweaty, right hand. Then I saw her stop suddenly and stare straight ahead as if in a trance. I had forgotten the mirror. But now I could see her dilated, blue eyes staring at my reflection. She smiled, taking in the sight of me stroking my enormous erection. Her left hand cupped her left breast as she swiveled on the bed to face me. Her right hand continued to plunge what I see now is a large, thick vibrator, into her gaping pussy. "Do you see anything you like?" she teased, as she lay back on the bed and spread her legs to give me an unobstructed view of her golden-haired snatch devouring the humming, oily tool. "I know what I want," she purred as she reached for my shorts, and tried to tug them down my legs. "I wondered how long it would take for you to pick-up on my hints. I hope you can become excited by an older woman." She added, "Incest is only a word. If anything, the idea of how forbidden it is, just makes me hotter."

Like a scene from a bad movie, I suddenly pictured every sleazy photo from all those nasty magazines, riffling quickly infront of me. Followed by video images of bored housewives and lonely mothers being flogged and fucked by their sons, or the paper-boy or any other young meat! My pecker was standing out to it's fully engorged dimensions.

"Do you want to fuck your mother, Ricky? Come and get me, I'm all yours."

The sensation was overwhelming. I was instantly on the bed, shedding clothes as I moved. When I got to her, my left hand yanked the wet mop of hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her to my crotch. My right hand pumped my cock enough to aim it between her supple, waiting lips. Then I drove it deep into the back of her throat, smiling at the gagging reflex it brought on, and I rammed my hips at her face as if I wanted to drive her through the wall. This would not be pretty or polite and I could not harness the energy.

Her eyes grew large at the sudden invasion of her mouth and her cheeks ballooned as she had to choose between breathing or swallowing. It was that fast. A torrent of pent-up frustration. My Mom's throat was bathed in cum and I continued to pump it furiously into her. She strenuously pushed against me, trying to disengage herself from my rod and tossed her head side-to-side to gain some breathing room. But I held her head in a vice and kept my cock firmly planted though I eased it out some, so that only the swollen, mushroomed head was laying on her tongue. After a quick moment she warmed to her situation. We settled into the roles we had both been secretly dreaming about.

Her thrashing subsided and her neck and throat relaxed. I heard her begin to gulp down the thick, milky load I've waited all my life to deliver. When the spurting ended I slid my still-hard monster from her lips and thumped it, with a solid, splashing beat on her nose and cheeks. There was still enough cum oozing from the tip to leave stringy, white vines dripping down her face and slipping off her chin. I firmly squeezed her blubbery tits and pinched the small, pink nipples until I saw her brows raise and a shrill squeal escape her lips.

"I didn't think you would be so rough with me, Ricky. I was only trying to tempt you alittle."

It dawned on me that she was surprised by my intensity but thrilled with the response that she received. And I was prepared now to take control. I had already crossed a taboo line and now I was going to dive into the deep end. I slapped her face and grabbed her by the legs, dragging her to the edge of the mattress. A brief, frightened look lit her face. I rolled her onto her belly, yanking the sticky vibrator from her sopping vagina and replaced it with my ever-ready meat stick. I said to her, "that slap was your first lesson. From now on you will call me Master. And I will use your body in any way I please." I proceeded to ram my powerful tool into her hungry, dripping cavern. She was remarkably tight, her pussy lips hugged my cock like a lover, and the warmth and wetness spurned me on to another impending explosion. With my cock banging away at her steaming hole, I reached around to grab her gigantic, swaying tits. This way, I had a firm grip on her jugs as I pounded into her inviting, smothering snatch. She had no recourse but to be my bitch!

"Tell me you want my cock, Mommy-slut!" I almost laughed out loud as I screamed those words, thinking of how crazy this situation was.

"I want your cock," she answered immediately, almost moaning-out the reply as I barreled inside her sodden pussy.

I was maniacally turned-on and shot another tremendous load of creamy jizz into that hot cunt I now wanted to own. But this feeling wasn't complete yet. I smacked her soft, bouncy ass a couple hard ones. Then I pulled her drenched hair to have her face me. The whites of her eyes grew large. My own face hovered inches from hers as I spoke cooly and deliberately. "I told you you're to call me Master! Don't forget that again!" I emphasized that with a few more serious spanks on her rosy ass. The flesh now deepening to a shade of purple. With her hair twisted in my grip, I threw her to the carpet at my feet. My cock, slick with our combined juices and still emitting oily droplets of cum, was perched just below her upper lip. "Tell me you understand your orders and what a good little cum-slave you're going to be."

12
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