WebNovels

Chapter 72 - . 2

Inside Mom's mouth, her tongue fluttered against my balls. She poked and prodded them, examining her captured prey. Her lips nursed greedily around the base of my balls like she was sucking on a baby bottle. The comparison was accurate in more ways than one; her eyes were closed, betraying a state of absolute bliss.

Longing for air, Mom widened her jaw and sucked in a loud, messy breath through the spit soaked cracks. Slowly, as though she did not truly want to relinquish me, she used her tongue to push the fat orbs forward, ushering them out of her mouth. A long, glistening strand of saliva kept the two of us connected, leading from my balls all the way to her quivering lips.

Mom had completed her tentative lap, familiarizing herself with the touch and taste of my cock before she dove in headfirst. After the previous night, and her inspired wake-up call, I knew she was growing accustomed to touching me, but a blowjob felt different. To take me into her mouth was a display of devotion like no other. To flood her sense of taste, touch, and smell with my manhood was nothing short of sincere servitude, and a pleasure that no mother should ever give to her own son.

"Ready to see if Mommy still has what it takes?" She was ready; I could see it in her eyes.

"To do what?"

"To make you cum, silly!" she taunted. "Mama used to be pretty darn good at this. Wanna see how long you can last in my mouth?"

"I thought you were inexperienced with all this?"

She suddenly seemed very sure of herself. "Oh, honey. That was with my hands. I never used them much; I've always been more of a mouth gal."

It was bizarre to hear Mom disclose her preferred method for making men cum, but as long as I was to be at the receiving end, I was willing to overlook a lot of awkwardness - not to mention the fact that she'd just sold herself as some kind of a blowjob queen. I had already been on the edge of my seat before she'd hyped herself up. After that, my excitement tripled. I couldn't wait for her to deliver.

Mom held my cock firmly in place with her face hovering above it, staring down at her meal before she devoured it. She formed a circle with her lips that was just wide enough to fit the tip, making a snug ring that stretched around the knob as she worked her way down. Her tongue gently battered it on all sides, treating it to an assortment of licks and nudges before she found a comfortable spot on the underside of my dick to flatten it against.

As her mouth worked its way down, she paused every couple of inches to go back and forth over the same spot a handful of times - mini-blowjobs as preludes to the full treatment. Thusly she ushered my cock fully into her mouth, then further into the confines of her throat, intently basting the length with saliva on her way down.

Not every pause was a tease; every so often, she had to take a moment to steady her resolve. She stifled the urge to gag time and time again, but she did not break eye contact with the camera a single time. It was long before her left eye was twitching uncontrollably. Her sputtering throat sent speckles of saliva onto my tummy, and her breathing was laboured, but she refused to look away. The power of her eye contact had me in a trance. I was completely captivated, helpless against the expert manipulations of her mouth, tongue, and fixed stare.

Her grip on my balls was still firm, but they felt completely safe in her hands. She tugged gently on the sack slowly and rhythmically. Between her loud, spastic gurgling and the chaotic, random dips of her head, those tender tugs were the only constant. Like the waves of the ocean, they were as comforting as they were predictable.

With a mighty heave, Mom drove the last few inches of my throbbing cock into her gullet. Her left eye went from twitching to violently fluttering as she struggled to accommodate me. Her throat produced loud, wretched gurgles as she fought against her body's cries for air.

"You can do it, Mom," I said.

Her lips trembled around the root, but remained in place. She ignored the tiny tear that trickled out of corner of her eye, wearing it as a badge of honor. Having her mouth stuffed to the gills made it impossible for her to control the flow of saliva trickling out of the loose seal. The juicy stream ran down, cascading over my balls. They were cocooned in her small, clenched fist, but the drool managed to seep through the cracks of her fingers.

"Move your hand," I commanded sternly.

As though she had been waiting for such a demand all along, Mom pulled her hand away from my balls in a heartbeat. She was no longer holding my cock upright, which left the walls of her throat as the only thing keeping my raging erection in place. Without her there, its rigidity would have driven it directly against my stomach.

Every flex made my dick lurch against the front of her throat. The bloated head pulsated within the sweltering depths, pushing outward in all directions as it grew in size. Mom's eyes bugged out so dramatically that I wondered if the powerful swelling could be seen from the outside. I imagined a bulge in her neck, as though a balloon was inflating inside it.

Still locked in a staring contest with the camera, Mom reached out an open hand towards me. I extended my free one to meet hers. Our fingers interlocked, palms pressed together, to connect us in yet another way. She didn't need to say a word. One squeeze of her hand told me everything I needed to know.

Her other hand rubbed the inside of my thigh with long, reassuring strokes to drive the point home: she was happy where she was. She was the one with a dick spasming in her throat, which made it peculiar that she was the one comforting me. She swaddled me with an endless expression of affection, tirelessly tending to my swollen dick in a way that, ironically, only a mother can.

I cheered for her. "You made it to the bottom!"

"Ehh ay dih!" Mom garbled with a satisfied smile. She patted my thigh triumphantly, proud to have proven to both of us that she was still immeasurably talented.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep me that deep."

Mom immediately let go of my hand, her eyes wide with terror. She shook her head subtly, perhaps to hide her visceral reluctance from the camera. I thought about cutting the video, but that kind of reaction was exactly what made our content so special. It was real, and sometimes reality isn't as neatly manicured as you want. Mom had already proven that her inclination towards sex went far beyond my expectations, so I was surprised to see her draw the line at something as casual as swallowing cum.

I caressed Mom's cheek with the back of my fingers. "What's wrong?"

She lifted her head out of my lap, giving herself just enough room to respond. True to form, she left the head of my cock inside of her mouth and allowed me to enjoy the sensation of her tongue battering against me while she spoke.

"I've never done... that before." She immediately dropped her head down when she was done talking, resuming her steady sucking like she had never stopped.

"Swallowed?"

Mom pulled my dick out of her mouth. She planted a kiss on the head, then said, as timidly as the new girl in school, "I don't like the taste." She had barely finished speaking when her lips wrapped themselves around the root again. For my sake, or perhaps hers, Mom refused to stop blowing me for a second longer than she had to. Conversation was but an inconvenience to her.

I didn't want to pressure her into anything, but secretly hoped that she would talk herself into saying yes. "Are you saying no?"

Mom did not respond for a minute. It was the first time that she broke eye contact with the camera, so I knew she was deep in thought. She bobbed up and down in my lap, greasing my cock with every dip of her head. She was acting like, if she sucked my dick well enough, I would forget about the question. Truthfully, she was doing a damn good job.

"Mommy?" I called to her. Her brow tensed, annoyed that I would evoke an innocent nickname for such nefarious purposes. "Pretty please?"

I could see the conflict in her eyes, and written across her brow. She wanted to give me what I asked for, whether for the video or my own enjoyment, but the memory of something most foul was pushing back hard.

"Did you like the taste last night?" I asked.

She pulled back a few inches. "I-I don't... it was just a little bit, and it was for the camera!" Then plummeted into my lap once more.

We both knew it was a lie.

"I saw you in the window," I said. "You wiped it off your face and sucked it right off your finger." I had no proof, but we both knew it was true.

Shame blossomed on Mom's cheeks as she pulled me from her mouth. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand to erase the multitude of sparkling saliva strands that connected us.

Mom scrunched her nose. "You saw me do that that?"

"How was it?"

"Salty, just like your dick. Also a little bitter, I guess. But that's different!" She punctuated her insistence by spitting loudly onto my bulging cockhead.

"Why?"

"I can drink a teaspoon of just about anything." Mom eyeballed my dick like it might spew forth a gallon of cum as any moment. "But your dick does not measure by the teaspoon; it measures by the liter!"

"Did mine taste better than Dad's?"

Mom's face broke into a coy smirk. "Yes honey, your cum tastes better than your father's." She continued to absentmindedly stroke me, pumping her fist like the motion was already burned into her muscle memory.

"And my dick?"

Mom stuck out her tongue and tapped me against it a couple of times. Her eyes aimed up and the right, like she was staring at something off in the distance while she mulled over the flavour on her tongue. She sucked the head into her mouth a couple of times, soaking her taste buds in cock-flavored saliva before she made up her mind.

Mom smooched the head-- a reward for passing her personal taste test. "It also tastes better than his. Mama likes the way you taste, sugar."

I was happy that the camera did not capture my cheesy grin. "Thanks, Mom."

"Wanna know something else?" Mom lowered her voice like she was about to share a secret. "You're bigger than him, too."

"Dad was like six feet tall! He's huge!"

Mom rolled her eyes - at the disappointing memory, I wagered. "Not where it counted."

I could not begin to fathom whether or not any of that was true. She knew how to play to the camera. I sincerely hoped she wasn't - or wasn't just..

"So where did this thing come from?" I inquired.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe the same genes that gave me these big ol' things!" Mom reached down with one hand to jiggle one of her breasts. "I guess we both have Grandma to thank."

"Mom! I don't want to be thinking about Grandma's boobs right now!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry honey! Would you rather be thinking about Mommy's big, huge tits instead?" The irony was not lost on me.

Like a hawk swooping in to snatch up its unsuspecting prey, Mom dove into my lap and plugged her throat with my cock. Its walls squeezed tightly, entombing me within a canal of hot, convulsing flesh. She knew I was close, and rather than remind her again, I allowed the steady throbbing of my dick speak for itself.

A tiny tear broke from the corner of Mom's eye, but she was so focused that she neglected to wipe it off. The small droplet ran down the side of her nose, leaving a trail behind it as it traced the outline of her bulging lips. I held my breath - time slowed to a crawl - as it fell from her chin and landed onto my balls, where it was instantly assimilated into the lurid concoction of saliva and precum in which she had so generously basted me.

"Oh fuck," I groaned.

Mom must have thought I was impressed with her talented throat; oblivious to the tear. She gurgled happily, blowing bubbles with a satisfied glint in her eye.

"Mom, I'm gonna-"

"Gaw ahaa, hoey," Mom warbled, her throat garishly distended around my pulsating meat. Her eyes were locked on the camera so intently that I doubt a hurricane could have broken her focus.

My hands were shaking. I had to fight the urge to throw the camera down and grab Mom by the back of the head. I desperately need to capture that act of savage dominance, but needed both hands to stop the camera from rattling. Pride abandoned me, and with it, the ability to stop myself from howling like a cat in heat as my orgasm tore through me without mercy.

"Oh fucking hell, Mom!" My voice reached a terrifically high pitch.

Mom had a sixth sense. It told her exactly when to drag my cock from its slobbery den so it did not dump directly into her stomach -- and not a moment too soon. She left only the head - engorged like a ripe, purple plum - lodged within her mouth. Her tongue hugged the bottom as bed for it to rest on.

Mom loyally tended to the exposed shaft, still slickened with saliva, by pumping her fist up and down. There was a perfect unity in her motions; every stroke was timed with a subtle bob of her head, meticulously coaxing the cum from my balls. She was a well-oiled machine designed for exactly one purpose.

An extraordinary wave of tingles exploded from my brain and travelled down though my limbs. Every beat of my heart drove them through my veins, delivering ecstatic energy to every cell in my body.

My cock throbbed defiantly, unable to withstand another second of Mom's methodical extraction technique. A thick, gluey vine of cum erupted from the tip, messily spewing salty syrup onto her tongue. She mewed happily, nursing on the swollen crown while she waited for more.

The second one came out so fast that, based on how she tensed up in concentration, it must have splattered directly against the back of her throat. Mom gagged, briefly breaking eye contact to stare down at the monstrous pillar of muscle pulsating in her hands. She furrowed her brow in concentration and retrained her pupils on the camera lens, awaiting the next deposit.

I could not see how much cum I was emptying into Mom's mouth. My dick felt like it was made of pure energy-- the sun itself exploding between my legs. I felt a gallon of cum sloshing around in her mouth, bloating her cheeks to a comical size while she struggled to keep it all from spilling out. That was, of course, a fantasy-- but it was not far from the truth.

Mom was admittedly inexperienced with cum. Even the modest amount of cum I fed to her was proving to be quite a challenge. She had become a statue. Her hand had frozen mid-stroke, afraid that unnecessary movement might make the cum splash around her mouth in ways she was not particularly fond of.

I felt like I was having my soul pulled right out of me, and only when the tremors in my legs subsided was I finally able to speak. "Oh, God d-dammit, Mom."

"Mmhmm?" Mom piped up. She sucked extra hard, her lips clinging to the throbbing mushroom as she pulled them off, gradually releasing my cock so that nothing would spill out.

"Are you gonna..." I did not want to sound needy, but I was.

Mom's mouth was too full for a toothy grin, so a faint smile was all she gave. She held a finger to her lips to shush me, then sat back on her knees. She tilted her head back, opening her cavernous maw so the camera had a clear view of the large, murky puddle. Her tonsils were completely covered, and her tongue was swimming freely in an ocean of briny glue.

She blew a kiss to the camera, then gave it a cheeky wink while flicking her tongue through the pool of cum. She closed her mouth and straightened her neck in a way reminiscent of opera singers before a big solo. Mom ushered the massive mouthful into position so she could swallow it all at once, taking a climactic, pregnant pause before she did so.

She scrunched her eyes shut, forcing her body to act against its wishes. One hearty gulp, loud enough for the camera to capture, was all it took. Her eyes fluttered erratically as the sizable load slid down her throat and into her belly, where she would surely feel it stir for the rest of the day.

She took several deep breaths, panting pathetically from exertion and a general lack of air. Then she thanked her viewers for watching. She was a gazelle at the end of an exhausting chase, though I suppose the gazelle isn't the one who finishes such a chase with a hearty meal.

"Thank--"something bubbled out of Mom's stomach, interrupting her speech. She channeled all of her energy into one final gulp, throwing her head back to ingest the remaining cum that still clung to the back of her gullet. She cleared her throat with a wet, sputtering cough while she waved to the camera.

With tears streaming down her face, she smiled and said, "Thank you for letting Mommy suck on your cock, sweetheart."

I held the camera on her for an extra couple seconds, regretful that the amazing moment was about to end. She waited patiently, indulging my extended cut.

"Annnnnnnd we're clear," I announced, dropping the camera.

Mom covered her mouth with both hands. "Holy shit, honey! I just sucked your dick."

"And you did a damn good job." I wanted her to be proud of her profound talent.

"I did?"

I grinned. "Do you really have to ask?"

She blushed. "I guess not; I can still taste the evidence."

"I told you! You're amazing, Mom."

"I know, I know. Thank you." She waved my compliments away. "But like... honey! I just sucked your dick! How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

I felt fucking amazing. I felt like the king of the world! That came as no surprise to me; everything I had ever wanted was coming true, slowly but surely, and I was not going to look back for a single second. The surprise, once again, came from my scene partner.

"That was so much fun!" she exclaimed. Mom fell back onto the bed next to me and accidentally let a tiny - albeit very audible - burp escape her lips. "Oh, goodness. I think that was a... a cum burp? Is that a thing?"

I turned my body to face hers and placed a hand on her waist. "The only way to know for sure is to try again, I guess."

Mom rolled her eyes with a fake laugh. "Oh, you'd hate to do that, wouldn't you?"

"Anything in the name of science. Do you feel weird at all?"

"A little, to be honest. I guess it's just strange that I went so long without swallowing, only for the first time in twenty years to be you, of all people."

"How'd it taste?"

Mom put on a fake cutsey voice. "Oh, darling, like sugar and candy."

"Really?"

She swatted my chest. "No, goofball! It was salty, mostly. But there was a little bit of sweetness, too. I didn't hate it."

"You liked it?"

Mom sat up and looked me in the eye. "That was what you took from that sentence? You think I'm going to be asking for protein shots in my breakfast smoothies now?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you trying to get me hard so we can shoot another scene?"

Mom leapt to her feet and pointed at my dick the way one would a disobedient puppy. "Down, boy! Down!"

"He will behave! I promise."

That comment cued Mom's instincts to tease. "Yeah? So, if I asked you to sleep in my bed tonight, would you be able to keep that promise?"

I could not tell if she was messing with me. "Really?"

"No funny business! I'm serious, Eric. I just..." Her shoulders sagged and her head, too heavy to be held high, slumped forward. "I miss falling asleep beside someone. Even if we aren't going to film it, I thought maybe we could still cuddle?"

My heart grew ten sizes. "Fair warning, Mom; I'm going to cuddle the hell out of you."

An enigmatic grin broke through her stupor. Perhaps I was losing my mind in the wake of her passionate blowjob, but I swear I would have crawled through broken glass just to see a faded photograph of that beautiful smile.

I'm not even gonna wear anything sexy," she insisted, "just a ratty, old t-shirt and granny panties."

"Good. I love a cozy woman. You're gonna look so comfortable; I can't wait."

"Yeah? You like that?" Mom dropped to her hands and knees at the foot of the bed. She crawled towards me one slow, steady step at a time, seducing me with the dream of a good night's sleep. "Make sure to leave a couple of glasses of water on the nightstand in case we get thirsty in the middle of the night."

"Oh, fuck. You're a dirty girl. What time are we waking up?"

Mom feigned an adorable pout. "I was thinking we could sleep in really late this time. I'm talking like eight, nine in the morning."

I was too dumbfounded by her poor understanding of "sleeping in" to continue our satirical flirting. "Nine? Is that late to you?"

Mom sat back on her haunches and tucked her hair over her ears. "It is late! Fine, let's call it nine-thirty, but I don't want to hear a peep about it."

"If you wake me up like you did today, I'll get up whenever you want me to."

Mom turned around to climb to her feet, then smacked her lips dramatically. "I'll think about it."

I, a simple man, could not resist the call to reach out and swiftly slap her ass as she got off of the bed. Mom had not yet found her balance when my hand smacked her, so she stumbled from the force of the blow.

"Honey!" she cried out. One would have thought that she'd seen a ghost.

"Sorry, Mom. I couldn't resist."

She peered at me over her shoulder like a Coppertone ad. "You like it that much, huh?

She tucked her fingers underneath both of her ass cheeks, vigorously shaking the shelf up and down. "You can touch it one more time if you go get me a glass of water."

"So that you can wash the taste of my cum out of your mouth?" I teased.

"Not out, honey: down."

To my foolish brain, that was somehow hotter. My balls tingled, as though they had not dumped a gallon of baby butter down Mom's throat just minutes prior. She had truly awoken a stamina that I had not known I possessed.

I scampered to the kitchen to retrieve her drink, practically skipping through fields of flowers as I did. I was alive with the glory of love, positively enamoured with my mother in a way that outmatched every crush I had ever harboured for a beautiful woman.

CHAPTER 4

The impact of that afternoon carried on for weeks after, setting the stage for Mom and my daily interactions. We made dozens of hand-job videos, two dozen videos of her blowing me, and a whole slurry of nude footage to add to our growing archive of smut. I could hardly believe just how many gigabytes of incestuous evidence I possessed.

Eventually, I caved and bought an expensive GoPro to facilitate the filming. It would leave both of my hands free to fully enjoy the experience, and its fish-eye lens made the first-person perspective feel even more authentic.

Mom had a particular fondness for using her mouth, and her talents improved from the near-daily practice she subjected herself to. I had completely given up on masturbating; there was no point in wasting what would inevitably become another glistening addition to our annals of amateur pornography.

I was living the dream. I had a beautiful woman posing naked for me every day and, in addition, we had grown much closer thanks to the copious amount of time we spent around each other in the nude.

Better still, the line between her on camera-persona and how she interacted with me "in real life" was steadily blurring. Off-camera kisses became a frequent thing, and though they never progressed to fully making out, it was surreal to give my mother a goodbye kiss before I left to attend class for the day.

I was so enthralled with the routine of having my dick sucked every day that I completely forgot about sex.

Okay, that's a lie. Somewhere in the back of mind, I was still aware of how firmly she'd forbidden it, but I was having so many orgasms that I was some combination of too satisfied and too scared to push her. Of course, I told myself that I was being a good guy by respecting her boundaries and not pushing her.

The results of my patience revealed themselves one morning over breakfast. I was scraping the last scoop of oatmeal from my bowl when Mom, having just finished her artistically arranged bowl of yogurt and berries, asked if I had a second to talk before we began filming for the day.

True to our calling as amateur pornstars, I was completely naked at the table. I rarely found it necessary or even prudent to wear clothes when we had a shoot scheduled. Mom, dressed in a white robe to conceal her nudity, was slight more modest, though a single tug on the knot around her waist would reveal her deliciously naked body underneath. I was giddy with excitement to unwrap her, but did my best to focus on her request and take it seriously.

I pushed my empty bowl forward and crossed my hands on the table. "What's up, Mom?"

She seemed uncertain with how to start the conversation she had initiated. Whatever thoughts were running through her mind, they seemed impossible for her to sort out. With a shake of her head, she collected herself and asked what I planned on doing that night. Like every night, my plans were to hang out with her. She was not satisfied with that answer.

"I was thinking," she said, "that maybe we could go out for dinner? Like, to a real restaurant."

"As a couple?" The use of that title made my heart skip a beat.

Mom nodded excitedly. "It would be fun to dress up and go spend a night on the town. Don't you think?"

I certainly did. Any opportunity to show her off was one that I would have been happy to take. Even if I'd been trying to get dates with other women, I doubted I would have scored a beauty like her more than once in a blue moon.

Shortly after breakfast, I picked a restaurant that I knew she would like. It was a decent distance away, but I figured that would lower the chances of us running into someone we knew.

We spent the entire day finding as many opportunities as we could to tease the other in anticipation. Mom came into my room on more than one occasion to interrupt my homework session. She would pretend to be interested in what I was working on while either planting dozens of not-so-subtle kisses on the back of my neck or worming her hand in between my thighs. The surge of blood that she sent flooding to my cock would linger long after she left, making it impossible to think about anything else. No matter how horny she made me, though, I refused to jerk off. I wanted to save everything for her.

It was strange that, after all we had been through, we were finally going on our first date. But, we had all the familiarity of a couple who had been together for many years.

The dress that Mom chose to wear was nothing short of miraculous. The red garment was snug on her curves, with a deep "V" containing her cleavage that left very little to my imagination. The dress stopped just above her knees, both of which were clad in sheer stockings whose roots were buried in the toes of her dazzling white heels. I had never seen such an outfit on her before, and wondered if she had purchased it just to wow me.

I did not need to tell her how breathtaking she looked. As soon as I set eyes on her remarkable form descending the stairs into the foyer, she confidently declared, "I know, honey. I thought you'd like it."

I looked like a regular schlub next to her, but her mere presence made me twice the man I knew I was. Simply having her next to me made me feel like a king with no equal. The fact that such a woman of her caliber had chosen to spend even one minute in my company was sure to turn more than a few heads, and I think both of us were keen to let people stare.

At the restaurant, neither the valet, the server, nor the surrounding tables knew of the monumental strides we were taking by being seen together in that light. Running into somebody we knew would raise serious questions; no mother would be caught dead taking her son out to dinner in something so immodest. Nevertheless, I deemed the risk worth it. Clearly, so did Mom.

In keeping with the theme of the evening, we ordered an unfamiliar appetizer. As soon as we took the first bite of seaweed-encrusted chicken skewers, our response was so instantaneous that it nearly made the other laugh hard enough to spit out their food.

Mom scrunched her face into a contorted display of disgust. "That is awful!"

I lifted my napkin so that I could spit out the abhorrent mouthful. "You can say that again. At least we tried it, right?"

She pushed her plate away. "That will be that last time I have seaweed that isn't wrapped around a piece of raw fish."

I put similar distance between me and the putrid appetizer. "Amen."

Our entrees, and the wine that went with them, went down a lot smoother -- though to be fair, it's hard to compare anything wrapped in seaweed to the divine purity of a well-cooked porterhouse. Mom opted for a salad, and only elected to add a grilled chicken breast to it after she had made a chuckle-worthy joke about her increased protein intake as of late.

As the meal progressed, Mom became more liberal with her hands. What began as a simple hold on my fingers quickly translated to her stroking the inside of my wrist, and culminated with the insertion of her stocking-clad foot - sans shoe - between my legs under the table.

I jumped a little when she wiggled her toes underneath my ball sack. I looked around to make sure nobody had noticed, but we were completely alone. None of the other diners had a second of time to spare for the mother and son playing footsies in the dimly lit corner of the room.

I stifled a groan. "What are you doing down there?"

Mom grinned with malicious intent. "Just playing with my food."

My heart sunk into my stomach, but I wanted to play ball. I glanced around at the other patrons just to ease my worries; nobody had noticed. She dug in with her toes, sliding her foot deeper into my crotch so that the bridge of her foot was tucked tightly below my balls.

"Jesus, Mom. You're gonna make me hard," I said breathlessly, but it was too late. Blood had begun rushing to my cock the moment her toes touched me, and in just a few short seconds I was as stiff as a double whiskey.

She held a finger over her mouth to shush me. "Careful with talk like that, honey. Do you want me to change the subject, before it's too late?"

Assuming that she was talking about the worry that I might pop a boner in the midst of a crowded restaurant, I informed her that it was too late. Unwilling to take me at my word, Mom pulled her foot out from the nook between me and the chair so that she could poke around in search of proof. Her tiny toes prodded the base of my dick, which was glued to the inside of my thigh, then traced the bulging outline in the fabric all the way to the head.

She leaned in closer so nobody would hear. "Oh, honey. Just from Mommy's lil' toes?"

I averted my gaze to the napkin covering my lap and shamefully nodded my head. "We should get the cheque, like, really soon."

"Not yet. I still have something I want to talk to you about." She loved being in control. Usually I was the one giving her directions from behind a camera, but that night she was in the driver's seat.

"Well, what is it?" I was curious, but more interested in a distraction so that I wouldn't dump a load of cum into my nice pants.

Mom thought for a moment, mulling over how to best explain what was on her mind. I was prepared for the worst, but my anxiety dissipated when she asked plainly, "How are our subscribers doing?"

I was not sure why she would ask a question whose answer she already knew. "They're good. People love the couple's content."

"That's good, I guess." She tried to obscure her disappointment, but came up short.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Let me guess; you're pouting because it's too easy, and you miss having a challenge?"

Mom shook her head. "It's just that... I suppose it doesn't really matter. We are making money, right? Enough for you finish school?"

"I don't want to count any chickens over here but, you know. One, two 10,000!"

Mom smiled, but once again it melted into what appeared to be thinly-veiled frustration. "That's great news, honey! Really, I'm happy to hear that."

"Do you want me to get you a dictionary so you can look up the definition of that word? I don't think you're using it right."

She rolled her eyes. "Ha-ha, very funny."

"Come on! We've always been able to tell each other everything. If anything, that should be doubly true now, after everything we've been through."

Mom's sour demeanor finally broke into a gleeful grin, accompanied by a swift swat on my arm. "Okay, fine! You know I don't like keeping secrets from you." She stirred an olive pit around in her bowl, pushing it back and forth with her fork. "I guess part of me - like, a small part - is a bit annoyed that we're doing so well."

Finally, she looked up from her bowl and saw the quizzical look on my face, so she knew she had to explain herself further. "The last time we had a dip in subscribers we tried something new, remember?"

I scoffed at the idea that such a powerful core memory could ever be forgotten. "Of course I do."

Mom straightened her back. "Right, exactly. I guess I was just hoping that, if they had dipped again, it would be an excuse to try something else."

"Maybe we don't need an excuse! We could do some stuff in public, maybe?"

"That's very creative sweetheart, but tell me this; what's the one thing in the world you wish we could do together?"

I blurted out the reply, spewing forth my utmost desire. I leaned and whispered, "I want to have sex with you."

Mom sucked in a sharp breath, trying to obscure the faint tremble in her lower lip. I was sure she had expected that reply, but it was probably still jarring to actually hear it. "Are you sure, honey? Are you sure that's what you want?"

"More than anything in the world."

She had already finished eating, but gulped down her nerves as though they were spilling out of her mouth. She parted her lips a few times to speak, but closed them each time as she wrestled with how to respond. Finally, after a few agonizing seconds, she looked at me and offered a subtle, yet eager nod.

I could not believe it: literally. "Holy shit. Are you serious?"

Again, she nodded. "I think so. I've been thinking about it a lot and... well, I just want to do it."

"Well, you did take me out for dinner. Maybe I should let you take me to bed." Much to my surprise, my sarcasm broke the tension like a battering ram. Mom snorted like an ugly piglet and had to cover her mouth to contain the giggle fit.

I pulled her hand away from her mouth so that I could kiss the back of her knuckles. "Is that a yes?"

Both of her cheeks burned a deep crimson. "It's a yes, sweetheart. Are we crazy?"

"We are absolute fucking lunatics," I assured her.

We paid the bill, grabbed our jackets, then stepped outside to wait for the valet. Both of us were giddy with excitement over the dirty little secret we shared. None of the other diners -- some a few mere feet from our table -- knew of the breadth of our incestuous plans.

The evening air was calm, and just chilly enough that Mom was encouraged to stand close to me for warmth. I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders and hugged her tight. Her fingers intertwined with mine and, once they were embedded, refused to loosen for a single second.

Mom insisted that she was feeling too loopy from the wine to drive home comfortably, so I played chauffeur to my darling passenger. The drive home would not be long, but it seemed that she couldn't wait.

By the time we had passed the second set of stoplights, she was already leaning over the stick shift to assault my neck with kisses. It happened so quickly that I pondered the possibility that she was lying about being drunk to ensure that she would be able to toy with me on the drive home.

She breathed heavy into my ear. "Is this okay?"

"You mean, am I going to crash?"

She nodded with a wicked grin.

"Erm, probably not."

"What if I do this?" Her question did nothing to alleviate the surprise of her hand slithering between my legs.

"W-whoa, Mom!"

She giggled happily and lifted my arm rest so she could unzip my pants. "Eyes in the road, mister. Let Mommy play."

Her hand reached into the open zipper and fished around for my dick. Upon finding it, her fingers circled around the head. "Is that okay?"

I grunted noisily. "Why don't you just tell me where this is going, and I can tell you whether or not it'll make me pass out?"

She fished my cock out of my pants and, without skipping a beat, pulled down the front of her dress so that her tits flopped out. Her bra was still on, but a mere glimpse of her cleavage made me throb in her palm.

"Why don't you just focus on the road and--" she punctuated each of her following words with a series of tight squeeze from her fingers. "--Let. Me. Play."

I nodded obediently; I was putty in her hands.

Mom knew exactly how to manipulate me to get what she wanted. That was true of me and of my dick. She knew every technique that would make me as hard as could be, but her talents did not stop there. Each practiced pull, every ounce of training that she had undergone while filming our videos, had turned her into an unparalleled expert in her desired field.

The veins running up the length of my cock came to life, responding to the touch to which it had grown so accustomed. She gingerly squished the spongy dome in her palm, paying specific attention to how my heartbeat thumped in response. The cushioned cap was made of memory foam, every tiny bump and swirl of her fingers imprinted upon it as they pressed down one by one. Her hand travelled down, ensnaring the root in her iron grip so she could begin her routine of vigorous stroking. By that point, despite my years of practice, Mom was better at jerking me off than I was.

I stared straight ahead, trying to hide how susceptible I was to her methodical fondling. My knuckles were as white as ash, and it took every ounce of focus in me to pay attention to the road. The dotted lines on the tarmac blurred and became one, while the yellow glow of the streetlamps distorted into bursts of angelic light from the heavens. I wanted to melt right then and there, but Mom kept me attentive.

"You're in the wrong lane, honey." She tugged my cock to the right like it was a joystick. "Go that way, please."

"S-sorry, Mom." I situated the car between the lines again, and hoped that nobody had noticed the erratic swerving.

I entered the proper lane just as we pulled up to a stoplight. I thought the red glow would bring a moment of peace for me to enjoy Mom's stroking, but luck was not on my side. In the rear-view mirror, just as I was closing my eyes to succumb to the pleasured of her clenched fist, a low riding, jet-black muscle car pulled up next to us and honked its horn.

The mystery driver called out to us. "Holy shit! Is that Mrs. P?"

My heart leapt into my throat. Mom quickly pulled up her dress to cover her tits, and lowered the window, using every ounce of poise that I lacked. She did not, however, remove her hand from my cock. In fact, her stroking reached a fever pitch, as though she was trying everything in her power to make me break while she remained calm and collected.

"Hello, boys," she cooed. "Long-time, no see."

It amazed me how calm she sounded despite the effort she was exerting. There was not so much as a hiccup in her pace when she greeted them. She picked up her speed to send me a message that came in loud and clear: she was not stopping.

that Eric with you?" the voice asked.

I realized, to my dismay, that I recognized the driver.

I leaned forward in the seat so that I could see past Mom's gigantic tits, to find the Coopers - two brothers that I had been friends with as a kid - staring back at me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to ignore the hand dutifully plummeting into my lap every half second. "Uh. Hey, guys."

If our car had been any lower to the ground, I feared that we would have been caught. Thankfully, the Coopers were car fanatics, and as such took joy in tuning their ride so it was a low to the pavement as it could go without breaking too many regulations.

"Been a minute, man," Dennis, the older brother, called from the driver seat.

His brother, Diego, leaned over him and shouted to me. "Weren't you in school for, like, photos or something?"

It was hard to hear them over the roar of their loud engine, but thankfully that obnoxious rumble masked the dull thumping of Mom's hand. Her tits, half-covered by the door, shook back and forth in tune with her relentless stroking. Thankfully, their car was too low to the ground for them to bear witness to the depraved sight of her tits bouncing back and forth.

I could barely keep my words in line. "How are have-- er, sorry. How's you been?"

The brothers exchanged confused looks, than burst out laughing. "Damn! Are you sure he should be driving, Mrs. P? That boy is drunk!"

The three of them shared a laugh at my expense while I did my best not to audibly grown when Mom's thumb brushed against my frenulum. She could have stopped, but the smile on her face betrayed just how she was thriving on my torment.

"What have you been up to, bro?" Diego piped up. "Haven't see you around much; thought maybe you moved."

Mom jumped in to rescue me, well aware that casual conversation was beyond the scope of my capabilities. Still, she punctuated every one of her words with a tight squeeze. "He's been studying very hard. Right, honey? Lots of long hours. You know how stiff the competition is."

The boys shrugged their shoulders, completely ignorant to the obvious euphemisms being waved in their faces. The light turned green, and the Coopers said their goodbyes. There was something along the lines of meeting up for a beer "sometime soon," but by that point my brain had stopped logging new memories so that it could zero in on the orgasm that Mom was about to pull out of me.

She playfully wagged my dick back and forth, using it to wave goodbye as they finally pulled away. "Say bye now, honey."

"B-bye, guys!" My voice warbled nervously. As soon as the boys were out of sight, I dropped the charade. "Jesus Christ, Mom. You have to slow down, I'm about to--"

"I know, honey. I can tell." She then pointed to the set of lights that the Coopers had just blown through. "Can you make it there?"

"Do I have to?"

"Mmhmm," she insisted, but not without sweetening the pot. "If you do, I'll let you cum in my mouth! Think you can make it?"

I pressed the gas pedal to the floor so hard that we nearly took off into the sky. Mom was thrown back against her seat with such force that she had to cling to my cock so she would not be thrown out of the car when it reached Mach 5. My mad dash to the finish line ended with the squeal of rubber tires being pushed to their absolute limit. The car had yet to come to a full stop when the first rope of semen burst from the tip.

Mom was waiting to pounce, and did so without a second to spare. Her lips closed around the inflated knob, sealing it inside just in time to contain the spurt of salty glue. She slid her tongue along the underside just as a powerful muscle spasm ejected it down her throat. The impact against the back wall made her gag, but there was no time for her to regain her poise before a second stream - much thicker than the first - flooded her gullet.

She thrust forward, refusing to take a breath, and swallowed my dick until her nose was pressed against my tummy. Her throat convulsed around me, its grip a velvet vice whose strangulation would have made the strongest of warriors fall to their knees.

My vision blurred, making dozens of bright red stoplights drift in and out of frame. I was seeing double, then triple, and eventually could not discern anything through the medley of colourful stars dancing around my head.

I could have been anywhere in the world; it did not matter. Even at the highest peak of the tallest mountain I would have succumbed to the whirlwind of chemicals coursing through my veins. I was convinced fireworks must have been erupting in my skull in such brilliant fashion that both of my eyes had rolled back just so they could watch the show.

Rather than gulp down the previous helping to make room for the next one, Mom patiently stored every drop. She gave a distressed gurgle, struggling to keep the frothy cream contained inside her puffed-out cheeks, but the dam held strong. The mouthful sloshed back and forth, its warmth bathing the head of my cock in a thick coat of glue. She carefully pulled her head back, her lips clinging to the fat, glistening dome as it slipped from between them.

I was so sensitive that the touch of her lips grazing over the head made my legs lock up. She was either transmitting or eliciting an electrical current that I could not help but react to, my muscles seizing up at the mere suggestion that she might dip her head down and plunge me into the depths of her throat once more. She tilted her head back so that nothing would spill out and, without swallowing a drop, choked out, "Aww gah?"

I released a breath of air that had gone stale in my lungs. "All gone, Mom."

Satisfied with my answer, Mom smiled happily with a tender squeeze on my upper thigh. The reward for her efforts was marinating on her tongue; all that was left for her to do was enjoy it. She kept her head back and, with one massive gulp, entombed an entire generation of my children to the depths of her gurgling stomach. She stuck her tongue out of her mouth and panted with exhaustion as she humbly relished the gift of oxygen that she had once taken for granted.

"Good job, honey," she said. "You made it to the lights!" To ensure she had not missed a spot, Mom opened the makeup mirror above her head and wiped off the corners of her mouth.

"I almost didn't make it! You are way too good at that, Mom." The lights had turned green at some point, and I was thankful that a cop had not pulled up behind us. That would have been hard to explain, and probably a little awkward if he'd asked for identification that would have named us as mother and son.

"Practice makes perfect." She closed the mirror and blew me a kiss. "Now, young man, are you gonna take me home, or do I still have to convince you?"

I had never tested how quickly our car could accelerate from a parked position, but I broke the land speed record finding out. I aimed to get home as fast as I could, even if that meant crashing through the bay window in our living room to meet the self-imposed deadline. On more than one occasion, Mom had to grab hold of the "holy-shit-bar" when I took a corner too fast, but not once did she tell me to slow down. She knew the stakes, and was likely as excited to get home as I was.

I pulled into the driveway with smoke on my tires.

Mom did not get out of her seat. "Are you going to come open the door for me, young man?"

I leapt out of the car and sped around the front to unlatch her door. She stretched her right leg straight out, spreading it as wide as she could before placing her heel on the pavement. With her thighs parted, the mess of chestnut fur between her legs made it clear that she had removed her underwear once I had exited the car. The hair peeked out from below the hem of her dress, which she had - with great intention - hiked up in an effort to enchant me with a brief glimpse of the treasure I had waited so long to claim.

Mom teased the furry tuft with the tips of her fingers, dragging the tips through the silky tendrils that formed a matted, brown carpet when woven together. "What's the matter, honey? Pussy-cat got your tongue?"

I extended my hand for her. "Something like that, yeah."

She placed her hand in mine, but instead of pulling herself out of the car, she slipped into my palm the very pair of underwear that she had been wearing all night. There was a dark, damp stain where the fabric had been pressed against her pussy.

Mom gracefully ascended out of the vehicle and kissed me on the cheek. "Such a gentleman I've raised."

Her claim was refuted by the many voices in my head screaming for me to lift the underwear to my nose and inhale her intoxicating aroma. Thankfully, I kept my degeneracy at bay just long enough for her to turn her back. When she did, I surrendered to my impulses. I closed my eyes and inhaled, basking in the richly scented syrup.

I must have been there for longer than I'd thought, because Mom was already at the front door when her voice broke my trance. "Stopping to smell the roses, are we?"

I stuffed her underwear into my pocket and bolted up the driveway. I was so excited to embrace her that I practically tackled her on the way inside. My arms looped around her tiny frame and pulled her body against mine, matching the intensity with which our mouths eagerly mashed themselves together. We were making out like ravenous teenagers before the door had even closed behind us.

Mom leapt into the air and wrapped her legs around my waist. Instinctively, to keep her supported, my hands shot underneath her to cradle her ass from below. Dough oozed through my fingers, prompting me to dig in as deep as I could. Each of my ten digits sunk in so deep that I imagined my fingernails to be completely eclipsed by her flesh, drawing long creases in her fat, blubbery bottom.

We did not stop making out the entire time I carried her upstairs, which made each step more dangerous than it needed to be. Had I fallen backwards, the night would have taken a drastically different turn, but she was light enough that we made it to the upper landing without a hitch.

Her bare pussy pressed against my stomach, drenching my abdomen in waves of muggy heat. Due to her grinding, her honey soaked through the bottom of my shirt and made the sodden cloth cling to my skin.

We passed my bedroom on the way to Mom's, prompting her to direct me inside. In between her rabid onslaught of kisses, she muttered, "Camera."

I carried her into the room, and then over to my desk, where the GoPro lay waiting. She picked it up and tightened the strap around my head, then tilted it so that she was staring right into the lens. "Perfect! Now, take me to bed, handsome."

I did not need another word of prompting. I readjusted my grip on Mom's ass and carried her down the hall. Just as we approached the door to her bedroom, she hopped down and instructed me to wait outside. Not willing to waste a second arguing, I hurriedly complied.

She kissed my cheek, and then disappeared into her room with the door closed behind her. The seconds ticked past, each one making me more and more aware of my surroundings. I had stood outside of that very same door as a child, freshly roused from sleep and stricken with nightmares which could only be banished by a mother's soothing touch. I would climb into her bed to snuggle against her oversized pillows - both the literal and metaphorical ones. It was the safest place in the world for a young boy to be, and the last place that I'd ever expected I would return to in order to lose my virginity.

Mom's voice piped up from behind the door. "I'm ready! Are you filming yet?"

I cleared my throat, but my voice still cracked when it came out. "Er, yeah. You want me to just come in?"

"Say action first!"

I began recording and took a few steps back to center the door in frame. I summoned as much confidence as I could, hoping my words would sound as powerful as my heart was as it pounded in my chest. "Action!"

By then a seasoned veteran, Mom slipped into her on-camera persona effortlessly, injecting her words with honey to make them as sweet as possible. "Come in here, sweetheart. Mommy had something very special to show you!"

Everything I had ever wanted was behind that door. All that was left was for me to reach out and grab it. I turned the knob and pushed the door open, then stepped into the lioness' den.

The lights were low, but not enough to obscure anything in shadow. There was a smattering of scented candles around the room, populating the otherwise dim corners with their flickering, orange light. They gave the room a calm, serene atmosphere. However, their main focus was to illuminate the figure of the sensationally gorgeous woman that stood, proud and tall, at the foot of her bed.

Mom was wrapped in a bathrobe whose colour was so dark that it seemed as though she were draped in a cloak of shadow. Just as the night sky - so vast and boundless - cannot conceal the brilliant luminescence of a full moon, so too did her delicate, white skin glow defiantly against the backdrop of the inky black void.

She shuffled in place. "I've seen you watching me, you know. That hunger in your eyes: I know what it means."

"You have? I mean, you do?"

She bit her lower lip and gave a gentle nod. "A mother always knows. Do you stare at Mommy because you think she's pretty?"

"I think you're beautiful, Mom." Acting is easy when you don't have to fake it.

She hid a small giggle behind her fingers. "Well, that's awfully nice of you to say, baby. I wish there was some way to thank you for being such a good boy."

She uncovered one of her shoulders, letting her robe fall to the side and expose a large slice of her cleavage. I could not see her nipple, but I knew it was just inches from being revealed. "Can you think of anything?"

I gulped. "I have a few ideas." My eyes, and the camera, were pointed directly at her tits. If her nipple were to pop into view, I was duty-bound to capture it.

Mom acted as though she had been unaware of how promiscuously she was dressed. She feigned surprise that I was doing what any other sensible man in my situation would-- staring at her half-naked breasts.

She tucked her forearms under her boobs and jostled them up and down a couple of times. "Oh, honey. Are you staring at these? Mommies shouldn't be dressed like this around their boys, but... oh, I do love how happy they make you. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if I just let you take a peek. Would you like that, baby?"

I nodded my head up and down, which earned a bombastic grin from Mom. In one smooth motion, she dropped her robe to the floor and revealed herself.

Even in the low light, the triangle of auburn straw nestled between her legs was an alluring focal point. The candle's orange glow illuminated just enough of her pubic hair to make one stop and stare, beckoning those same eyes to stare into the shadows in the hopes of catching a hint of her pussy lips when the light hit them.

My attention was torn between her pussy and the stiffened pink peaks protruding from her drooping breasts.

Mom pushed her boobs together so that they met in the center of her chest. "They're not too saggy, are they, honey?"

"They're fucking perfect."

She blushed. "Good boy. If they were, it would be your fault for being such a hungry baby all those years ago. Do you remember how Mommy's milk tastes?"

I smacked my lips, having become keenly aware of just how dry my mouth was. I longed for a drop of that sweet, creamy nectar to hit my tongue and quench my thirst, and would have drunk for hours from the perky, pink-capped faucets from where it would have leaked.

It was not a taste I remembered, so I regrettably shook the camera back and forth.

"That's too bad," she said, "but I think I have an idea. Do you think you'd be able to help me with something?" Whether she was acting, or if the idea had genuinely struck her out of the blue, I could not tell. Perhaps that's just how good she was.

Without waiting for a response, Mom continued. "Daddy won't give me another baby, even though I really want one, so I was thinking you could be a good little helper and give Mommy a reason to start making milk again."

I winced at the invocation of his title. As far as I could remember, Mom had never called him that, even when he was a part of our lives. Our viewers would not be privy to that piece of lore.

Perhaps she was not acting. Maybe that was really part of the reason he left: Mom had wanted another child, seeking to grow our family.

Does she still want that?

I was unsure of how much of her character was real, but remained so willing to entertain the façade that it became impossible to separate fact from fiction. I knew what I wanted to be true, so I convinced myself that it was so. As far as I was concerned, Mom was sincerely inviting me to knock her up. My dick filled with such an immediate rush of blood that I feared it would fly off of my body.

"What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want to help me make you a new baby brother to play with?"

My tongue was tied in too tight of a knot to form words. At last, I realized why the cameramen in porn videos were so often silent. All I could do was nod the camera up and down, consenting to her ridiculous request.

Mom's face lit up. "Oh, honey, really? I'm so happy to hear that! Mommy has been thinking about it all day. Look!"

With that, she plopped her ass on the bed and scooted up towards the headboard, positioning herself so that, once she spread her legs open, her pussy was presented to the camera in all its glory.

Glistening beads of syrup were trapped in the fibers of her cunt hair. To feel just one of them melt on my tongue would be like dousing my taste buds with liquid cocaine.

She rubbed her hands down over her stomach. "Mommy was so big when you were inside her tummy, and you would kick so much that it was hard to sleep sometimes."

She placed the tips of her fingers on either side of her pussy, and pulled open the gooey, pink hole. I half-expected coils of steam to come floating out of her, not unlike a cartoon pie cooling on a windowsill. "You were such a heavy baby. Do you remember how warm Mommy is on the inside?"

I shook my head.

She held out a hand and beckoned me closer. "Come. Feel her."

Shaking legs carried me to her. I knelt down, inches away from her pussy. The rich, pungent aroma of her honey wafted through my nostrils, making me grateful that I was already on my knees. That way I would not collapse onto the hard floor when they buckled.

I pushed a finger into her until the fur atop her mound tickled my knuckles. Mom was remarkably wet, offering no resistance. I investigated every corner of the tunnel I was birthed from, intricately memorizing every corner. It was too heavenly to be human, and I was bewildered that something of such unyielding perfection came part and parcel with an already sensational woman.

As though she'd predicted the excitement coursing through my cock, Mom clenched her cunt muscles and gave a couple of particularly strong squeezes around my finger. "She's saying hi to you!"

I poked a second finger against her opening, then pushed it inside to join the first. With the added digit, the tension doubled.

Mom sucked a sharp breath, but did not budge, ensuring that her fingers stayed in place to dutifully present her spread pussy for me to explore. "Oh, my. You have big fingers, honey."

I flipped them upside down so that my fingertips were facing the ceiling, then dragged them against the roof of her pussy to brush against her G-spot.

Her whole body tensed up, and I caught her eyes defocusing in a momentary flutter. "W-whoa. That feels really nice, sweetheart."Mom sat up on her elbows and looked down the barrel into the lens of the camera. "But I bet it would feel a lot better if you put something else inside of Mommy. What do you think?"

My eyes popped out of my skull. Once I had pushed them back in, I nodded my head as enthusiastically as I could. Mom gave an earnest chuckle, enthralled by my excitement. She gave me a coy smile and nodded towards her pussy. "I think she's all ready for you. Come and lie on your back next to me."

I leapt onto the bed beside her. It was not until I was in position that I finally noticed the chill of room-temperature air against my honey-soaked fingers. After having cooked them inside Mom's sweltering oven, anything less felt positively frigid. I wanted to shove my entire body back into her cozy, heated den and hibernate for a whole year.

As soon as I was on my back, propped up against the headboard, Mom climbed on top of me. Her naked cunt grinded against my dick, sandwiching it between the meaty swell of her pussy lips. She drove its head against her clit, nudging the tiny button with each dip of her hips. The helmet pushed through her pubic hair. She fit either one of her plump curtains around the sides of my cock, encasing the shaft in a hot, gooey, makeshift trench - a prelude to the real thing.

"Feel how wet you made Mommy?"

She reached down and grabbed the root, dragging the head through her lips so that her slimy petals could paint it with syrup. Instead of putting me inside, she tilted my dick so that it was pointing behind her at the perfect angle to slide between her large, globular ass cheeks like a veiny hotdog settling between two fluffy, white buns.

She wagged her tail back and forth, massaging the length of my pipe with her walls of dough. "He fits right in there! Doesn't he, honey?"

I murmured something in confirmation, but by then Mom was essentially talking to a brick wall. She lifted her hips, making enough space between us for my dick to spring forth and slap against my stomach.

Mom formed her lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're so hard, sweetheart! You poor thing; that looks like it must hurt."

She looked into my eyes-- not the camera, but my eyes. Then she asked, in the most hauntingly sweet tone of voice that I had ever heard, a question that was as sincerely earnest as it was sincerely erotic. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

She needed me to say yes, and I was willing to give her anything she needed or wanted. I was hers, and a simple nod was all she required to believe that.

Without another word, she lifted her butt off of my lap. That time, however, her target was not the deep, dark crevasse between her ass cheeks. She wedged the head of my cock against the opening of her birth canal and dipped her hips. Her cunt lips stretched apart to welcome it inside, engulfing the knob into their warm embrace. The entire bulb disappeared from view, swallowed into the hole that had once worked so hard to push me out.

Both of her eyes were half-closed, fluttering in tune with her rapid breathing. "Oh, ohhhh. I missed this."

Mom pulled her hands away, confident that her pussy was tight enough to keep my dick from popping out of her, and placed them on my chest for balance. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and sank into my lap another few inches.

A blanket of fervent heat washed over my entire body. I was less than halfway inside, and already the unimaginable warmth emanating from Mom's pussy made me want to melt into a puddle. With her thighs straddling me on either side, there was no space between us for even the faintest breeze to flow through. The engine roaring deep in Mom's belly radiated heat, turning the air between us into steam as she stuffed my dick further into the confines of her body.

Deeper and deeper, my cock trudged through the slimy pit of undulating muscle, massaged on all sides as it ventured towards her molten center. She was so wet that, if she'd wanted to, she could have gobbled up the entire shaft just by dropping her hips. It was a choice -- a conscious one -- to descend as slowly as she did.

At long last, the bulging knob kissed her cervix. I had hit the bottom, yet she continued to push down. A tremendous groan, summoned from deep in her gut, rose out of her. It was one of relief, but also one of pride.

"Oh my goddddd," she wailed.

I did not realize I had been holding my breath, and finally released it as a big sigh. The rapid beating of my heart and the adrenaline coursing through my veins made it hard to speak without having my voice warble. "F-fuck, Mom. You feel fucking amazing."

Mom kissed the center of her palm, then reached towards me to cradle the side of my face in her hand. She gingerly rubbed her thumb over my cheekbone. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

"You're really tight. Do you want to take a break?"

That made her laugh. "Oh, honey. Your whole body used to fit in there, remember? Just give Mommy a minute."

Mom rocked her hips back and forth, massaging the mouth of her womb with my cock head. Her walls constricted around me, moulded to my shape as she caressed every bulging vein along the length.

Her lips stuck together momentarily when she parted them to speak. "Are you okay if I start moving now?"

I flexed my pillar of sexual muscle, catching her by surprise when it bucked against the interior of its fleshy cocoon.

"Oh, honey! Mommy felt that. Is that a yes?"

I clenched up again, engorging the piston in her guts with a hearty throb.

"Good boy!"

I almost came on the spot, and feared I would lose control the second she started moving her hips. To distract my brain from submitting to its primal impulse, I searched for anything that would keep my hands busy. Lucky for me, the two large, sagging udders dangling in my face were a prime candidate. I reached out with both hands, thankful that I had invested in the right equipment to keep them free, and latched my greedy fingers onto Mom's swinging tits.

I slid my hands underneath her boobs and lifted them from below. I admired, with a goofy smile on my face, how remarkably heavy they were. My elbows threatened to buckle, but I held fast. I jostled her breasts in each hand - one up, one down - like I was weighing melons at the grocery store. Then I simultaneously tossed them both into the air a couple of times, relishing the slapping sound they made when gravity sent them crashing into my palms.

She tilted her head to the side. "Didn't I teach you not to play with your food? Be nice to Mommy's boobs, young man."

My voice quivered. "Sorry."

She patted her thighs. "Here, give me your hands."

I obeyed, and Mom placed my palms down on her legs, then pressed her fingers over mine to encourage me to squeeze. "Now, rock with me."

For the first time in my life, a beautiful woman was riding me. The situation itself was enough to turn my brain to soup, and that's to say nothing of the surreal sensation of my mother, the incredible matriarch that towered over me, dragging my cock out of the cozy chamber it dwelled within.

I felt the rhythm, and matched it so that our bodies ground together in unison. Mom gyrated her hips, driving my dick into her pussy at angles that unique each time. All I had to do was lay back and let her work her magic; that time, Mom did not need directions. She was the director, and knew exactly how to move in order to make my dick feel like it was being tended to by none other than the hand - well, pussy -- of a divine goddess.

The velour walls hugged my shaft, painting the sides with their supple touch. Each fold and ridge along the interior nudged against me on the way out. Then, she slammed her bottom into my lap and drove my bloated cock head back into the depths of her cunt.

I dug my nails into her skin, fighting the instinct to cum. I was so focused on holding back my orgasm that I could hardly appreciate how incredible it actually felt. Mom bore down, focusing her weight on the tip as she moved her hips in circles. When she ascended again, she did so faster. The rhythm was changing; thankfully, I didn't have to do much to match it. I lacked the bandwidth.

My mother's face became a vignette; she was the only thing I could see - save, perhaps, for a halo of radiance that blurred together with the surrounding darkness. She looked like a perfect, smiling angel. "You look like you're going to pass out, honey. Does Mommy feel that good inside?"

"So... goooooood," I bellowed. "I can't, I can't."

She grinned happily. "Give me your hands again. I have an idea."

I reached out for Mom's hands. We pressed our palms together and interlocked our fingers. Using me as support, she lifted herself up off of her knees so that only the head of my dick remained inside of her. She squatted on the balls of her feet, her arms wobbling as she poked around with her toes, searching the cushy mattress for a hint of stability.

"Count to five," she demanded.

I was confused. "Count to... what? Why would--"

THWACK!

Before I could finish, Mom slammed her bottom back into my lap and swallowed my cock into the snug burrow.

"Oneeee," she sung sweetly, before raising her ass into the air.

"Holy fuck, Mom. I can't do it! Seriously, I'm gonna--"

Once again, with no hesitation, Mom plummeted into my lap and consumed my dick in one gulp. "Twooooo. Come on, sweetheart. Count with Mommy."

"T-two!" I was focusing on keeping my muscles clenched, desperately fighting off my orgasm, and thus could barely speak through my gritted teeth.

Mom puckered her lips up into a hands-free blown kiss, brimming with pride like she was about to pin one of my English tests to the fridge with an "A+" on it. "Good boy, just like that. What comes after two, honey?"

"Fuck me, fuck me," I yelped. "Three! Oh my God, three!"

I was howling so loudly that I thought it would shatter the windows, but I was not the nosiest thing in the room. My helpless wailing was drowned out by the sound of Mom's fat, gelatinous ass cheeks clapping together each time they plunged into my lap. It was a gunshot, the echoes of which would bounce around in my brain for years to come.

Sweat formed on my brow, dribbling through my hairline as I focused every fiber of my being, mental and physical, on incredibly difficult task: count to four.

Mom lifted her butt off of me, but kept it suspended in the air, looming overhead with the threat of an impending dive. With just my cock head trapped within her lush pedals, she swayed her hips side to side, stirring my girthy joystick in wide circles.

"I don't hear you counting," she teased.

The muscles in my legs were tensed so tightly that they began to shake. Tremors proliferated with such violent force that they turned my limbs to pudding. "Four! Four!"

She threw her bottom on to me. "One more!"

My mental faculties having long abandoned me, all I could muster was a grumbled, "Fiiiiveeee."

Mom commenced her final descent, triumphantly gobbling my dick to the base with a mighty plop when her chubby buns collided with my thighs. I thought it was over, but she had something more in store.

She leaned forward, her boobs suffocating me as they flattened against my chest and bulged out into my face.

"Six," she announced, bearing down with her weight to pin me to the mattress with her tits. She lifted her ass, and then drove it home with no warning.

"Holy shit, Mom! Stop!" I could not slide out from under her, and had no recourse but to beg her for mercy. The power went to her head, and my only option besides surrender would have been to violently toss her off the bed - which probably would have broken my dick.

"Seven, eight," she chanted, picking up speed and force with each count.

"Mom! Please, I'm gonna fucking cum!" I tried to tap out by rapidly patting her shoulder, but she wasn't having it.

"Niiineeee!"

She taunted me with what I was sure would be the final blow, knowing that she had full control over the both of us.

If she had gone to ten, I would not have made it. Hell, I might not have survived! I felt pieces of my soul leaving my body a little more each time she raised her hips, as though she was physically pulling it out of me.

Thankfully, whether by serendipity or not, Mom stopped at exactly the right number. Maybe it was something in the way my dick twitched the final time she'd buried it to the hilt. Maybe a mother just knew.

Whatever the case, Mom lifted her pussy off of me. She ejected my cock so rapidly that the sudden expulsion made it slap against my stomach with a hearty thud.

Etched on my belly was the outline of my bulbous cock head, painted in the residue of her thick, glistening syrup. As Mom swung her leg over me to climb off of the bed, a dollop of nectar - nestled betwixt the coffee-coloured fibers of her tousled cunt fur - fell loose and splattered onto my chest. I didn't want to wipe it off; I liked the idea of being marked by her scent.

Mom stood next to the bed with her hands on her hips, her breasts rising and falling with the deeply drawn breaths. "I think I need a break. I haven't done squats like that in a while."

"So, the counting was for both of us, then?" I asked.

Mom smirked. "I don't think either one of us would have made it to ten, honey. Did you want to try another position?"

"Yeah," I scoffed, "as long as you don't get to set the pace!"

"Don't worry," she assured me as she descend upon hands and to the mattress. "I'll be good this time."

I doubted that to be true, but was vehemently opposed to wasting another second with my cock outside of my mother.

She shook her ass in my face, hypnotizing me with the back and forth motion of her spectacularly round bottom. As soon as her swollen, puffy clamshell came into view -- wafting its trance-inducing fragrance towards me all the while -- I began to salivate like a starved hound faced with a thick, juicy steak cut.

She reached back with both hands and pulled apart the chubby, white cushions that flanked either side of her tiny asshole. Adorned with small bumps and ridges, it stretched out like a puckered pink star. Each of its points stretched to their fullest as she pried herself apart.

With great intention, knowing that I was watching every one of her miniscule movements, she tightly squeezed her butthole a couple of times. The bright, rosy star twinkled. I could not imagine what such a vicious grip would do to my cock, or how I would last more than a few measly strokes without blowing my load into that miraculously snug pocket.

She kept herself spread open with one hand, but lifted the other one into the air. Then, she brought her palm down -- a mighty gavel -- and slapped one of her pudgy cheeks hard enough to leave a vivid, red imprint behind. She traced the outline of the fresh branding with one of her fingertips.

"Did that hurt?" I asked, dumbly.

Mom giggled. "A little, but I kind of like it. Do you wanna try?"

"Fuck yeah I do."

Mom had never been partial to that kind of punishment when I was growing up, but I liked the added flavor that the fictional backstory brought to the role play. She'd also managed to pick a not-entirely-sexual activity that distracted me from my powerful desire to be back inside of her immediately.

Mom backed up until both her feet and her ass, were hanging off the side of the bed. I walked in a semicircle around the foot of the bed, capturing various angles of her glorious bottom. No matter how I leaned, bent, or crouched, it seemed that every possible view of her famously plump rump was better than the last. When I was satisfied, I lined up behind her so that her feet were resting flat against my thighs.

I grabbed her by the hips with both hands and pulled her in a little closer, positioning my dick so that it wedged perfectly between each of her globular ass cheeks. I sawed it back and forth, thrusting through the valley between the mounds of dough with her asshole kissing the fat, bulging vein that ran along the bottom. With each stroke, the underside of my cock scraped against the squishy donut.

I found a nice rhythm, and once I was sure that Mom was used to it, I broke the silence with a vivacious swat upon her right butt cheek.

Mom yelped like I had stepped on her tail. "Honey!"

"You said I could!"

She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "You should be gentle with Mommy's bum. Naughty boys don't get to put their fingers in nice, tight places."

Dopamine sizzled in my brain. "Oh, fuck. Really?"

Mom craned her neck to the side so she could look at me around the gigantic swell of her ass. "If you're good, maybe."

"Have you ever... you know?"

Mom did not respond right away. "Well, no. Not exactly. I've never done more than a finger, and even that was, like, a decade ago."

"God damn, Mom. You're actually like..." I trailed off, daydreaming of all the exciting new possibilities.

Mom thought I was just stalling for my own entertainment. "Are you waiting for me to say it? Yes, honey; I'm an anal virgin."

My dick surged with blood, bulging between her cheeks in a way that made my excitement impossible to hide.

She gave a spirited gasp. "Somebody likes that, huh? You wanna be the first one in Mommy's butt?"

My breath caught in my throat. "I would fucking love that."

Mom buried her face into the mattress and arched her back. "Not today, mister. You have other places to put that fat fucking cock of yours first."

I audibly guffawed, which made Mom turn back around with a sheepish wince on her face. "Wait, wait, you can cut that out, right? Was that too much?"

I shook the stupid look off of my face. "No, no! I guess you can still surprise me, Mom."

"But, good surprise?"

I nodded. "Good surprise."

"What else has Mommy done to surprise you?" She was fishing for compliments, true, but in fairness, I wanted to jump into her boat.

"I mean, for one, I can't believe how tight you are!"

Mom beamed with pride. "Am I really? You're not just saying that for the..." She pointed to the camera strapped to my head.

I shook my head. "Totally true, Mom. You're squeezing the life out of me."

"I don't hear you complaining."

"And you never will!"

Mom chewed on her bottom lip. "You haven't seen anything yet, honey."

My brain, suddenly a computer from a bygone era, lagged far behind. "What do you mean?"

Mom lay flat on her tummy, then stretched her legs out behind her and closed them together so her pussy disappeared from view. Not even a tuft of her luxurious fur poked out from between her thighs, but just to be sure that she was sealed as tightly as could be, she crossed one of her legs over the other to further tighten the path leading to the entrance of her untamed garden. She folded her arms to rest her head on and, finally in position, jiggled her butt to the sides to entice me forward.

Not content with that temptation, however, she spoke, her voice drenched in a decadent layer of melted sugar. "You're going to love this part, honey. Come, get on top of me." She patted her butt a couple of times, making ripples that coaxed me forward.

I climbed on the bed and hovered over her, using my forearms to support myself so I did not crush her. I placed my legs on either side of hers and pinched them together with my knees.

"Put your weight on me," Mom insisted. When I hesitated, she reached behind with her right hand and patted my thigh. "Put it down, sweetheart."

I lay my chest flat against her back, but remained careful not to squish her. Based on her satisfied moan when I fully trapped her under my lumbering frame, however, I think that was exactly what she wanted. I wrapped one of my arms around her shoulder, and the other around her midsection, strapping myself to her like a human seatbelt.

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