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  • Thanksgiving Weekend Ch. 02

Thanksgiving Weekend Ch. 02

The night before Thanksgiving, I had expected to hang around at home, maybe watch a movie, play some videogames, nothing spectacular. Instead, I locked myself in my room, my mind racing, with my parents getting ready for bed next door. I could hear them talking in the bathroom, my mom's mouth filled with toothpaste, trying to complete some mundane sentence to my dad.

The same mouth that earlier in the afternoon had taken in the entirety of my cock. Had easily held and swallowed my entire load. Whose tongue had circled my shaft with an expert's ease.

And I was expected to sleep?

I sat in my chair, staring at my computer, for what felt like an eternity. I kept jumping between ideas. Should I just get into bed and wait it out? Should I go sneak up on her and try to get her into my room to finish what we started? Should I jack off just to temper my urges? While I got what I wanted, she remained horny and unsatisfied. I was excited, and guilty, to show her what I could do.

I didn't have an extensive sexual history, I wasn't sure of my abilities, I couldn't guarantee she'd be buckling at the knees while I pounded her silly. I had had a few one night stands in college, and most recently, a long time girlfriend. I almost forgot about our breakup, the one that led me into a depression at the start of my Thanksgiving break. This time last year I was deep inside her pussy in her bedroom, making her squirm and cum. She had a light, airy orgasm that sounded more like shortness of breath than it did an expression of ecstasy. A day earlier, these details would've sent me into a funk, a sadness, but now, they seemed like a distant memory. Fuel for masturbation.

It led to a curiosity – what was my mom's orgasm like? Was it loud and unsuspecting? Was it quiet, and tame, like she normally appeared? The shame mixed with the lust, and I felt an odd shaking from the pit of my stomach, reaching out into my hands. I was nervous. My own thoughts made me nervous.

The shower turned on in my parents' bathroom. A late shower. I had to find out if she was going in, if my mom had decided to spend some alone time tonight to purge herself of thoughts, potentially to please herself under the water. I could go in and pretend to be washing my face, my dad would never know. I decided to wait a few minutes before making a move.

I stripped down to my boxers and a t-shirt and encountered a growing problem. My cock. In my anticipation, the thoughts of walking into the shower, bending her over, and delivering her the sensation she offered me earlier in the day, it had grown and grown, filled and ready. I couldn't walk past my dad, even if he was already in bed, with a tent like this. I tucked it into the elastic and endured the dull pain it caused.

Walking into my parents' room caused a chill to run up my spine. Everything I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. My dad was asleep in bed, on the edge of waking and sleep. I tiptoed into their bathroom...

The water was running and I shortly announced to my mom, in a whisper, that I was in there. Nothing abnormal about that. I turned on the faucet, locked the door, and walked up to the shower door. Upon opening it, I found my mom hunched over with a razor in her hands. Her pubic area covered in shaving cream.

She saw me and gave a coy smile. She knew not to talk and signaled for me to come in.

I quickly stripped off my boxers and let my cock spring out. The shirt came next and I came in, wrapping her up from behind, my cock emerging between her legs.

In a whisper, she said "not now."

I thought she was being shy.

"I wanna make you cum."

"Not now."

I stepped back, the water hitting my back, shielding her from its stream.

"Was that the best blowjob you've ever had?" she asked, as if nothing was wrong.

"Yeah."

"Well, I want the best fuck I've ever had, and I can't have that while I'm being quiet. I can get...loud."

I rubbed her back and pushed slightly. She hinged at the hips and was bent over, ready to be taken.

"Being quiet will just make it more intense."

She turned around and grabbed my cock suddenly.

"Yeah, but I want to make you wait for it," she said with a smirk.

I grabbed her breasts forcefully. I pulled at them until she moved closer. But she kept her smirk.

"You think you're in control here, don't you?" she said. "You're twenty-one now, you can drink, do whatever you want, you show off your big cock to whatever slutty college girl will get on her knees and suck it, but you're dealing with a different challenge here." She never broke eye contact as her hand stroked my cock slowly.

"I'm going to make you wait," she reiterated.

All while stroking my cock.

I found myself thrusting gently into each of her strokes. She was going to please me, make me cum, but I wouldn't get to touch her, taste her, fuck her.

I reached down between her legs and she tsk-tsked me. "Wait."

My dick grew stiffer in her hands. It hurt.

I thought she was playing a game, I thought I could break her will until she begged for my cock in her mouth, between her thighs, inching up her warm pussy. I pulled her closer and rubbed the tip of my cock on the inside of her leg.

She pushed me back. She pinned me to the wall with a glare I didn't dare mess with.

"I said wait."

She took a step back. I stood beneath the shower head, a few strands of water hitting my head, the wall cold against my back. She stayed at the opposite end. A long distance between us.

Her nakedness seemed glaring. Her breasts cold without the spray of water, he legs long and red with heat. Her pussy clean of any hair, bald, tempting.

"Jack off for me."

It took me a second to comprehend.

"Stroke your cock. I want to watch."

I remembered hours earlier how I had her in the palm of my hand, downing my cock. I told her where to go and how to feel, and she did it. She had been playing me, or she devised this plan on the fly. In either case, I was under her control.

I started to run my hand over my dick, touching it with the tips of my fingers.

She stared and watched. Her breasts moved with every breath. Her hands stayed at her sides.

I became self-conscious of my mannerisms. The way I handled my member with my right hand. A slow stroke from tip to hilt and back. It was tedious and deliberate, tugging on the skin with each go. The pink tip growing red with each pump of blood driving upward.

I imagined entering her from behind underneath the hot water. Holding onto the shower head with my off hand to keep balance. Her newly hairless pussy growing wet and slippery with every thrust.

My hips thrust my cock into my hand faster and harder. My left hand lowered and massaged the tip as my right tugged and yanked.

Her hands started to caress her stomach. I could sense her aching.

She dropped a hand between her legs and inched her feet outward. She slipped a finger between her wet lips and rubbed, slowly, her eyes never leaving my cock.

I let out a moan, enticing her.

"Shh..." she said, barely, as she dug two fingers into her beautiful cunt. Sliding in and out, mocking my cock with their easy access.

Her leg buckled as she let out a stifled "mmm." She urged herself to be quiet, but wanted to yell with each thrust of her fingers. A third finger joined the other two. Her other hand worked her breasts.

I stroked hard and fast. She mimicked me, pounding her pussy. Her back arched in pleasure.

"Stop."

I kept stroking.

"Put your hands behind your back," she demanded.

I did. My cock ready to blow.

She stood across from me, that same achingly long distance, and rocked her clit with her finger tips until she exploded in a silent orgasm. She bit her lips and clenched her off hand to will herself into silence.

Her body shook.

Heavy breathing.

And she looked up at me. My cock reaching out to her. My hands behind my back. Ready. I wanted it.

"Keep your hands back."

She waded toward me and got on her knees. The water washed over her head as she took the tip of my cock into her mouth. She knew it would only be a matter of seconds until I blew.

She took it down slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Inch by slow inch.

She released even slower.

Picked up the pace. A quick bob. Faster. Harder. Deep in her mouth.

Her tongue swirled around my tip until I exploded in her mouth. I was surprised by how much cum I had left after today, but she took it all in and swallowed without hesitation.

She stood up and sucked on her wet fingertips, wet with water and her own wetness.

"If you didn't know..." she led, "I love the taste of cum."

She turned off the water.

"I'm not even clean," she said.

She grabbed a towel hanging on the door and dried off. She let me drip. I stepped out and quietly grabbed a towel.

"You know," she said, "I used to be such a good girl."

She dried her hair. I sat down, drying off my body. I touched my cock, hoping for more, but empty. Unwilling even if I had the opportunity.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Suddenly calm. She looked ageless.

"I was a virgin until my freshman year of college." She reminisced in the mirror. Turned off the faucet I had left on. She spoke casually, knowing my dad was asleep, and he slept deeply.

"But once I lost it, I went a little crazy. I think it was my sophomore year when I decided to have one wild night. Just one. I wanted to be a slut for a night. Not just be a slut, but be the slut, the one that everyone talks about. After that, I could just be a good little girl again, find a guy, find a career, and go on. But just one night, I was going to be taken in every way imaginable."

I sat back, listening. My cock growing to a half-hard state.

"And?"

"And I did it. I spent two weeks figuring out what I could do. I was thinking of having three, four, five guys come over and just have me. I was thinking about taking control of one guy, wearing him out. I didn't really want multiple guys, I wasn't comfortable with that. So I finally decided to make a list of ten guys who I knew would come over the second I called. I tipped them all off, all ten, that I may be calling them that night, so they all stayed in on a Friday, waiting. My goal was to get through all ten, make sure each guy gave up, tired. I worked out until my body was in tight shape. I had a bucket of condoms. I kept water bottles in my closet in case I was thirsty. It was..."

She lost herself in the mirror.

"So you got through all ten?"

"I called the first guy. I was so scared, I had only been with three guys before that, all within the last year. I was already naked in bed when he showed up. With every guy I was naked at the start, they were surprised and, oh, they were happy. By the third guy I was on top of the covers. I didn't even give them a chance to talk. I didn't want to be eaten out, I didn't want to be fingered, no romance, I just wanted to have a dick inside me. I felt like such a slut. Not just because of the ten guys..."

"Ten guys isn't too slutty, spread out over time."

"Before each one of them came, I made them pull out so I could swallow their cum."

I couldn't help but watch her, naked in the mirror. I could imagine her as a college student, younger, tighter. A good girl with a bad streak.

"I told you I loved the taste of cum." She paused. "I made each of them cum twice, at least. I only orgasmed four times. You'd think I would orgasm more before...twenty or more sessions?"

She turned around and walked right at me. She climbed up on top of me, still wet. She played with my semi-limp cock playfully.

"I don't orgasm easily." She smiled. "I've already orgasmed once today."

I felt bold. "What about one more?"

"Wait," she said. "I'm going to make you wait."

She stood up and walked out the door, wrapping the towel around herself as she left.

I went back to my room, not wanting to dry myself at all. I pulled on some clothes from the floor and crawled into bed.

I wasn't going to sleep tonight. I reached down and began to stroke my cock one more time, just to satisfy myself.

Tomorrow, the entire family would be here. Aunts, uncles, cousins. I wouldn't have a chance at her.

But maybe I would find a way...

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