In between

In Between

Svetlana Mega

Taboo Dreams

Copyright © 2024 Svetlana Mega

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Taboo Dreams
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

The news stunned everyone. He appeared for a while and then disappeared. Aneurysm, the physician declared. As the doctor positioned my mother on the sofa and informed me of my father's condition, she appeared pale and weak. He had died instantly after collapsing on the steps. He had been absent for the majority of my life, and now his absence was permanent.
My mom had been the one to track him down, as she was working from home when it happened. I ran home from work as soon as the doctor called to make sure my mom was okay. Just fifteen minutes separated us, so I was quickly by her side. The sheer magnitude of it all seems to have immobilized her. At twenty-five years old, I felt like an adult and wanted to make a difference. Not that there were very numerous relatives to contact, but once I understood what to do, I got to work.
After speaking with my mom's sister and a few distant relatives, I asked if there were any friends we should inform. The fact that she was so alone reminded us how little we understood about my dad's background. At least we believed we knew where he worked. He had changed positions over three years ago, according to the business I called. They provided me with a number to call. I engaged in a compassionate conversation with a woman in HR at the civil engineering firm where he worked. Because there was no one else I could tell. I didn't mind because I was only trying to help, even though she usually doesn't eat sugar. Without saying a word, she dropped it.
We saw an undertaker the next day, and she seemed more like herself. We were relieved by how much work he could do for us. After that, we went to the registrar's office to officially file for death. A flurry of mail to banks, government offices, and organizations over the following few days ended our options, leaving us with three weeks to wait before the burial.
Neither of us wanted to talk about or think about his death for a while. We were both back at our jobs. In the evenings, we would only talk about real-life issues, such as what to do with his clothing. Neither of us seemed very sad, and we certainly didn't want to be the ones to break the news first.
That is not to suggest that our lives were unaffected by my father's passing. Even though my mom seemed exhausted and drawn, I could tell she was relieved. Their marriage seems to have been in a state of intermittent stability due to his extensive work schedule. It felt like every other year around Christmas, anniversaries, and birthdays, he was too busy with an important job to be there. After a few days or weeks abroad, he would return home, take care of his mail and washing, and then embark on another crucial and inevitable task.
Having a close connection with him was never my priority. Because of the immense shame I felt, I was numb.
I worked up the nerve to ask my mom whether she missed him around a week after his death. For example, she said, "How can you miss someone who was hardly ever here?" I believed her, even if she was being dramatic. That settled the question of her affection for him for me. When did she realize she no longer loved him? I was curious. I felt bad for her because she was 47 years old, married for 26 years, and had accomplished nothing. It was just me, a huge void, and nothing else. I felt an overwhelming need to protect her and show her how much I loved her.
As I was going to confirm my mother's statement, the doorbell rang. I yelled out that I would answer it from halfway upstairs, then hurried back downstairs to the front door. An attractive woman, who appeared somewhat distressed, stood there; she was around my mother's age. Her skirt suit and high heels were rather lovely, I must say. Being someone who tends to notice such things quite a bit, I couldn't help but note how lovely her legs were.
"Is this the address where Mrs. Renata Focker resides?" she said, her voice slightly quivering.
"Yes, who shall I say is calling?"
"Mrs. Focker"
Yes, I will fetch her for you. "She's here now," I said. I failed to discern your given name.
"No, I mean, I'm Mrs. Focker, Mrs. Marline Focker."
"Ah, I get it. That is only a coincidence, you know.
"Who is it, Cal?" my mom said as she materialized in the corridor. "
"Ah, right, this lady is asking for you; she's Mrs.Focker, as well."
The woman. Is this Renata Focker? A curvy woman inquired.
"Indeed, that's correct."Am I of use to you?"
We need to communicate privately, right? I'm about to reveal some important information.
"Well, I guess so. Feel free to enter." He lounge. "Come in, and we'll make our way there."
"Is this your son?"
"Yes, this is Callin."
I responded, "Hi," attempting to seem nice while simultaneously considering how I would want to approach her.
"I think he should also hear what I have to say."
"Please, come through; do sit down," my mom begged.
"No, thank you; I'll stand up." In conclusion. You two are in for a rude awakening.
We were all facing each other as the nervous but determined visitor took a moment to gather herself before delivering her important news—whatever that may be—while I admired her figure—her slim waist, her flat stomach, and her beautiful breasts.
"As I've just told your son, my name is Marline Focker, Mrs. Marline Focker, or so I thought until this morning."
Okay, I get that, but am I really? my mom said.
"Is your husband no longer with you?"
"Yes, but I don't see what that is."
"Jim Focker? "Is that his name?" What is the date? It's March 18, 1973."
"Er, I see your point, but..."
"When did you get married?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't see how this is any of your business."
"Please tell me."
"We got married in July 1997; why are you asking me these questions?"
"Because your husband married me on June 12, 1998," our guest explained after taking a big breath.
After a lengthy, dramatic pause, my mother and I exchanged looks before she sank slowly onto the sofa, her face contorted with incredulity. I offered no more than to ask if I should turn on the kettle, a feeble inquiry that went unanswered by both women. Since I was at a loss for what to do, I answered my own question by hustling into the kitchen to brew a pot of tea that would go unfinished.
I could hear snippets of an angry argument from the kitchen. Marline wanted my mom to look at some photos and a marriage license, which she vehemently denied having any value. Marline informed my mom that she was married to "Jim's daughter," but she quickly admitted that she actually lived with my dad near Watford, about an hour away from his other marital home, where he lived with my mom in Guildford. My mom and I live in Guildford.
Her 'husband' had died, she said, but she hadn't heard the news until the day before. She had expected his return home a few days earlier. She ultimately located a payslip in her jacket pocket and called the firm, where she had a bewildering chat with a perplexed and embarrassed woman in the personnel department since he wasn't answering his phone.
She was at a loss for what to do at first, but after some thought, she came to the conclusion that she needed to locate my father's second wife and speak with her. She felt it was best to come clean, since she despised the idea of my mom being ashamed to learn that her spouse was a bigamist when my dad was younger.
When Marline wanted to know more about the burial, their tense talk ended. My mom didn't take it well, but I overheard Marline trying to reassure her by explaining that she was leaving her contact information so that my mom might reach out once she had a chance to process what must have been shocking news. shock.
Capturing Marline as she walked out the front door was a rewarding endeavor; just looking back at her gorgeous legs and curves made it all worthwhile. Her piercing blue eyes met mine, captivating me. ten times. I felt a flutter of excitement as she shook my hand and expressed her sorrow for my loss. I was prepared to do anything if an epiphany had struck me, and I said, "I've got a sister."
"Yes, she looks like you; you both inherited your father's good looks."
I wanted to compliment her on how beautiful she is, but I restrained myself since I felt it would be inappropriate.
Could you maybe do me a favor?"
She should have known.
Of course, I would say "yes."
"Please persuade your mother to notify me of the funeral's specifics." "I'm pretty determined to go anyhow, but, given the circumstances, I want her to feel that she's agreed to me and my family being there."
Her altruism and concern for my mother's sentiments touched me, and I found her quite attractive.
There's no need to fret; I have faith that she will understand. You must have also found this challenging.
"Tell me about it." "It was shocking at first, but now everything makes sense. For twenty-five years, the cretin has deceived your mother and me. Oh, I hate to be critical of your father, but it's difficult to handle."
"It's okay; I didn't have much of a relationship with him. Do you mind me asking, Did you love him?"
For an instant, she halted. She didn't even bother to explain that it wasn't her concern; instead, she just stared at me and said, "Once, maybe a long time ago." This was when my late father wasn't exactly a fan favorite.
I responded, "I'll see you at the funeral." She nodded and smiled halfheartedly in response, and then she left me yearning on the doorstep. I marveled at her graceful hip swaying as she delicately slid her beautiful legs and high heels into her car's driver's seat. When I returned to the lounge, I observed that my member had only partially arched; it was twitching.
There were tears in my mom's eyes as she sat on the couch, looking very sad. yes. She remained clad in her sharp suit and high shoes. I found her distressed expression to be quite alluring for some reason. What the fuck was wrong with me? My moral compass seemed to have gone out the window in the previous several minutes, which I attributed to a mix of emotions. I knelt beside her and enticed her closer to me as I perceived that she desired a embrace. While she quietly cried for a few seconds, her head rested on my shoulder.
"We'll get through this, mom; you'll see." "You're a terrific mother, and you've got a lot going for you. "
She pressed her forehead into my neck and gushed, "That is so thoughtful of you, my darling." I was really touched.
Her warm breath on my ear, and her tears dampening my skin, were unsettling sensations. Marline had set my erection in motion moments before, but now my mother had unintentionally made me harder than I had ever been before, much to my discomfort and consternation. Despite my sincere desire for her to disregard the bulge in my pants, drawing her closer only served to exacerbate the situation. The sensation of her lips pressing against my neck induced spinal column-splitting shockwaves, and I was on the verge of wetting my pants; I required an escape route.
Thankfully, she got her dangling earring hooked in my tie, so I could remove it. I then skillfully maneuvered away from her, ensuring that she couldn't see my intense desire—a fortunate escape.
"Do you want that tea right this second?"
"Absolutely, but this time I'd prefer it without sugar."
"Okay, mum."
As we were sitting down to drink the tea that I had prepared, I brought up Marline. It was a bold move, but I figured it could be easier to win her over now, when she was more receptive and cooperative, rather than in the morning, when her resistance would be stronger.
"Mother, we're both tired; it's been an emotional time; we've just had a bit of a shock, and I'll be glad when it's all over." I'm sure you will, too. If you're interested, I can discuss bigamy legislation with a friend who is a trainee solicitor in the morning. It will be beneficial for both of us to understand our current situation.
"Oh, sweetheart, would you, please? Thank you; you're very correct; we do need some legal understanding."
"Furthermore, I hope you don't mind my mentioning this, but I believe it would benefit everyone if you reached out to Marline and gave her some information about the funeral." It wasn't her fault, and I know she's just as upset and furious as you are. You've both believed for twenty-odd years that Dad was your husband, so this news has come as a huge shock to both of you." She's done the right thing; instead of being angry with her, focus on him. "Be angry with him."
"I'm dreading the funeral, with or without his other family."
"Well, why don't we resolve this now?" "Were her phone numbers shared with you?"
"Yes, with an email."
"Even better, if you want, I'll send an email to her from you now, just a short message giving the time and location of the funeral."
"All right, I'm certain you're correct; here is my phone; I'm completely devastated; I'm going to bed; I'll see you in the morning." Goodnight sweetheart."
"Goodnight Mother."
My mother has no idea how much I begged with Marline's case; all I wanted was to be back in her presence. The message I sent simply read, "Funeral at St. Margaret's on Browning Lane, September 26th, at 11 a.m. Details of wake to be confirmed." Originally, we were going to host a wake at our house immediately following the funeral, but I had a feeling my mom wouldn't approve of a bunch of total strangers hanging around the house. No, I'd need to reserve a neutral location and consult with her early in the morning.
I waited until I was very sure my mom was asleep, since I was exhausted but really aroused. I masturbated on the couch, focusing solely on Marline, erasing from my mind my previous confusion over her aroused state. while lounging on the couch. The orgasm was really fulfilling.
After contemplating Marline for two hours, I returned to bed and tenderly stroked my cock. After engaging in prolonged fantasies of fucking her, one particularly intense one entailed securing her against a church wall while she was in mourning, removing her coat and black dress to expose her stocking tops and suspender straps, and subsequently inserting my hard cock into her warm, moist cunt. Oh no! Just seeing her leaning against a wall, a willing fuck in her high heels, and her taut vagina squeezing my cock sent globules of semen splattering over my belly, and the possibility of another dizzying orgasm curled my toes.
Before retiring to sleep, my cock experienced a final involuntary spasm, and I couldn't help but recall the way my mother's lips caressed my neck and the tears she shed for me. turn off.
Please, please, please.
The first part of the funeral morning was cloudy and wet. In spite of the overwhelming tension, the vicar graciously kept the ceremony brief and pleasant, referring only to the decisions we face in life rather than bringing up the "elephant in the room." Fortunately, nobody felt the need to read or mention anything about my father, the bigamist. The presence of several beautiful black ladies preoccupied my thoughts; however, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret over what may have been had he been more involved in my life. There are not enough beautiful black women. At funerals, why did ladies always seem so hot? It seemed like something out of a movie as the funeral procession gathered around the cemetery. The rain had stopped, the clouds had parted, and there were so many beautiful women in the graveyard.
They were all stunningly beautiful and intellectually appealing. As the sun broke through the moist mist, it cast a gentle light over the area. Dark-hued, form-hugging gowns, black hosiery, and stilettos were commonplace. Some of the women had well-dressed partners to accompany them, but it was the sensual, alluring women who really got to me—what with their sleek hair, subtle makeup, and dark hosiery. It was unusual for me to see so many attractive women wearing high heels in one spot.
While we were in the chapel, Marline caught my gaze. With her lips beautifully painted a ruby red, she looked up at me and said, "Thank you." When I saw the beautiful young woman with blonde hair beside her, I immediately identified her as my sister. Her face bore a resemblance to my father's, but her figure was a product of her mother's DNA. At first, I was shocked, but then I reminded myself that she was a blood relative, and I calmed myself.
Lydia was twenty-two years old and still a student; I found out later. It was only later that I learned Marline was accompanied by three other attractive women: her sister Nadia, her daughter Kristin, and her sisters Jenny and Demmy. My relatives certainly weren't short on flair. Charlotte and Beatrice, who are cousins, and Sally, my mother's sister, looked stunning.
There was a kind woman in my father's employer's personnel department; she and her two female coworkers had introduced themselves before the ceremony. The three ladies blended in nicely with the other female mourners due to their decorum.
Looking around at the group of beautiful ladies gathered at the graveyard, I couldn't help but feel like the happiest man alive. Despite questioning my moral compass once more—after all, sexually aroused at a funeral is probably not the norm—I couldn't resist the allure of the attractive ladies who seemed to be everywhere.
My mom softly rested her arm on top of mine while we sang "earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust" during the part about returning to nothingness. She blended in well with the abundance of stunning women around us, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of pride.
Nearly a month had passed since my father's death, and she had embarrassedly told me earlier at home that she had dropped twelve pounds in that time. She was overjoyed that she could finally wear her pricey, knee-length, classic black dress. The combination of the dress and jacket, the barely-there hosiery, the sleek, three-inch-high stiletto court shoes, and the exquisite black hat with the seductive "birdcage" veil made her seem stunning and smart.
When I was a young child, I enjoyed watching my mother get ready for the day, especially her delicate pink lipstick and drop pearl earrings. Watching my mom descend the stairs as we departed for the burial brought back all those years of thinking she was the most stunning lady alive. I longed for the days when she was as energetic and carefree as she once was.
I got the impression that she had been fretting over Marline's potential brilliance for the previous two weeks. On several occasions, she told me that she could understand my father's feelings for Marline because she thought she was stunning. She kissed me on the cheek and gave me a shy look when I told her my father had excellent judgment in women.
I gushed over her as we departed from the cemetery, saying that she was the most alluring lady there. I meant it, even if it wasn't flattering. She gave my arm a good squeeze before pressing her pink fingernail into my hand and dragging it down to my fingertips. Her nails were well-manicured. Even though I knew she wasn't trying to stimulate me, I couldn't help but feel a shiver of pleasure radiate from my cock down my spine—a sensation that was both delightful and embarrassingly uncomfortable.
I inquired to ensure Marline and her family could locate the bar hosting the wake. She sat down in the driver's seat of her automobile, the knee-length dress's skirt taut about her thighs. With the door ajar, I stood over her and noticed the obvious evidence of the suspender clips peeking out from under the snug black fabric.
She seemed to read my expression, then shifted her body to make the cloth draw even tighter. Through her clothing, one could see her suspender straps, the little button that connected her stockings' welt to the clips, and the clips themselves. Her intense stare met mine, and I felt like a naughty boy she would swoop in on at a moment's notice. My masturbation fantasies involving Marline would resume later that night, when I was in bed.

My mother was wearing a sharp, form-fitting dress, and I sneaked glances at her thighs many times as I drove to the bar. I dreamed of her in stockings, unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor, and then stepping out of it as it clung to her ankles. I don't know why this image came to me, but I wondered whether she ever wore them. Another surge of pleasure coursed through my semi-swollen penis before I swiftly expelled the sexual image from my thoughts. I tried to convince myself that there was no reason to be worried since I had a moral obligation to take care of my sad and vulnerable mother. Then I concentrated on the road ahead.
At the wake, I went in search of my new sister Lydia—the one with the blue eyes. My cock's responses to my mother-related, moderately indecent thoughts quickly faded from my mind. I had an instant and profound affinity for Lydia. After reading up on the topic, I was prepared for the potential pitfalls of finding siblings later in life. Obsessive feelings, including sexual ones, surfaced in a number of cases. I had nearly scoffed at the notion, but I had been trying to persuade myself that it wouldn't be a problem for Lydia and me—that is, before I had laid eyes on her.
She embraced us tightly for a few seconds, kissing my cheek. The passionate kiss and the words that followed stunned me.
"Well, that's a bonus."
"What is?"
"Not only do I finally have my dream brother, but he's also pretty," she boasted while clinging to my hand.
When that happened, my internal monologue, which had been going something like, "She's just your sister, that's all," went flying out the window. Even I was embarrassed by my awkward response.
"Oh, ha, yeah, I've been researching cases where siblings meet for the first time as adults, and apparently there can be all sorts of emotions."
Is it accurate to say that I truly believed I was making an impression on her?
"You know, unexpected passions..."
Oh my gosh, she's going to think I'm stupid and a pervert—maybe not in that sequence.
"Really? Would you really take advantage of your little sister? you?"
"No, no, not at all; I wasn't suggesting..."
"Oh, that's disappointing; I was anticipating it," she remarked with a playful smile.
"Okay, you got me there; I'm a prat."
Our moms were dealing with the shock of learning that our father had another family, so we discussed our dad and how neither of us felt very connected to him.
"I'm relieved that our mothers have been civilized about everything," I said.
"Yes, my mom told me that she'd been to see you both. "She said that because her marriage to Dad was void, she was grateful that your momma hadn't been difficult about things."
"I was impressed by the way your mom handled it when she visited. I think my mommy likes her; she keeps saying that she seems honest and trustworthy."
When we looked over, our moms were engrossed in a chat in a secluded bar area.
"It looks friendly, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I bet they're comparing notes on how Dad managed to fool us for all those years."
"I don't even want to think about it anymore; it is what it is."
Because of this, I now have a brother! " I'm not myself; I'm just looking ahead."Oh, how wonderful! May I ask whether it's okay if I get to know you?"
Does it bother me that I wanted to kiss her? I found her really appealing.
"No way; I'd be cool with that, too." When can we get together?
The Master of Science in Psychological Studies program at Aberdeen University is taking a toll on me, dear reader. Because I postponed my return due to the funeral, I will be traveling up tomorrow.
"That's unfortunate, not because you're studying, but because we won't be able to get together soon."
"Listen, I need your phone number," she demanded with an accusatory arch of the eyebrow. I will contact you after I return to the institution. We can meet up when I return home for the holidays after we've had some lengthy conversations to get to know each other.
One of my father's former coworkers was very distraught and emotional; I assumed that she had been in love with him and that they had likely had an affair. Our mothers had already emerged from their peaceful little tet-a-tet, made their rounds, and accepted the other mourners' condolences.
As Lydia was leaving, I overheard my mom gushing over her and telling her she hoped they'd stay in touch. Much to my delight, Marline sought me out for a long embrace and kiss on the cheek, sending a shiver of desire down my spine. She then whispered in my ear that my mom was a good woman, and I should take care of her.
I watched as they walked away, waving to them. Inside my head was a tangled web of emotions and thoughts. On one level, there was the obvious desire to masturbate with Marline; on a deeper, more disturbing level, there were incestuous thoughts about her daughter, my new sister—a much darker, debased carnal desire. Lastly, there was my mother, Renata. I tried to avoid thinking about her, but a part of me wanted to—the part that hung between my legs.
I felt a surge of love and affection for my mother as I turned to make my way back inside the pub. She watched Marline's party depart, waving goodbye. At that moment, I resolved to be her protector and, essentially, the man in her life. Marline's entreaty that I should look after my mother seemed a bit ambiguous; surely she just meant that I should be thoughtful and kind to her. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt like there had been a slightly seductive undertone to her voice.
Was I still in the 1950s? What a quaint idea! I quickly discovered that she didn't require a protector or even a "man"; after all, she had become a successful employment law solicitor without being fiercely independent. In fact, I started to feel like I was slipping behind as Marline ran her own employment agency and Lydia went for her master's degree.
Please, please, please.
My mother, Renata, informed me on the way home from the wake that she and Marline had made a pact to live life to the fullest, taking responsibility for their own happiness. True to her word, she joined a gym and began swimming and running, and I witnessed her incredible transformation right before my eyes. Not long after the funeral, she began ordering new clothes online at an alarming rate; she looked stunning in everything she wore, and she informed me that she had gone down two dress sizes, so none of her old clothes fit.
She would frequently inquire as to my opinion of her appearance, and I would affirm that she looked lovely; sometimes, when I felt particularly adventurous, I would even go so far as to praise her beauty, and she would return my compliments with a shy smile and a kiss on the lips before she went off to her business meeting.
Every morning, I would observe her leaving the house in her exquisitely tailored dresses or business suits, accessorized with a new pair of high heels for each day of the week. One evening, she confided in me that she was going out and wouldn't be waiting for her because she was staying with a friend. This began happening once or twice a week, and I wasn't handling it well. I felt a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness; I despised the idea of another man making out with my mother. Eventually, I mustered the guts to ask her who she was seeing and where she was spending the night.
Do you not believe that I have the right to some privacy, Callin, since I am your mother and not your daughter?"
"Certainly. Certainly. Apologies; I was completely out of whack. Please tell me who you're seeing and where you're going; I don't need to know.
"Well, if you must know, I've been catching up with some old girlfriends that I've neglected in recent years."
I felt relieved and prepared to believe what turned out to be a falsehood as I watched her stride down the hall in a form-fitting blue dress, high heels, and seamed stockings—clothing that should have given me the hint that she was dressing for sex. Those stockings lingered in my thoughts throughout the evening.
Even dressed in elegant garments that flaunted her toned torso, flat stomach, curvaceous hips and buttocks, and long, shapely legs, my mother was still my mother. I had already taken to staring at her thighs in her form-fitting dresses and skirts, and I was certain that, on multiple occasions, I had seen the protrusion of suspender clips. The thought had sent shivers of arousal down my spine, and I had done my best to suppress my enjoyment. Fuck, I was obviously hopeless, though I didn't recognize it at the time.
Persuaded that my interest was more of a harmless curiosity than anything else, I ventured into her bedroom. The sensation of covert sensuality was intense as I peered into my mother's quarters, taking in her bed and wondering if she had ever used it for masturbation. Even though my room was located on the opposite side of the landing, the thought of her using it concurrently with mine gave rise to a warm tingle in my cock.
I had to be careful not to leave any trace that my shaking hands had touched my mother's underwear, but if she did masturbate, I wondered what fantasies she conjured up as she built towards her orgasm. The thought was both erotic and terrifying. I knew the chest of drawers to her right held her lingerie. I opened each drawer in turn and found women's intimate things neatly folded and organized.
Her pants captivated me, causing my cock to harden as I imagined myself masturbating in them. The lingerie appeared to be brand new; there were stunning sets in black, red, purple, white, pink, and champagne. Plain bra cups stood in contrast with frilly lace cups; soft teddies and stiff basques competed for space with suspender belts and corsets.
I went into her bedroom and opened two pairs. Something told me to search inside the drawers and cupboards of her bedside table, and there was an item that made me pull down my jeans and underwear. I was afraid she would have known if I had touched any of her clean pairs, so I rummaged through the laundry basket. Then it hit me: She might have worn the items I was looking for. With anticipation, my cock swelled.
The vibrator was large and worn, and the mere sight of it incited nausea in me. I quickly wrapped one pair of her old pants around my penis and held the other ones up to my nose. The scent of my mother's cunt lingered on her underwear, overwhelming me with repulsive erotic desire. I pressed her vibrator against my cock, and she came in no time. It happened so fast that I could go to my room and fantasize about fucking my mom in all the possible ways for the next fifteen minutes.
As my second orgasm drew near, I pictured myself bending over the dining table, prepared to seize her from behind. In my mind, I raised her gown to a level just above her hips, with her long legs and stilettos positioning her pussycat. Her pale pink labia shimmered and beckoned, framed by her black suspender belt, straps, and stocking tops. Gazing at her sculpted buttocks, she parted her pouting lips and sank gradually into my mother. I could almost feel the power of her vaginal walls as I inserted my cock into her—a sensation that was both magnificently erotic and depraved. For the second time, I came hard while fantasizing about fucking my mother.
I must have dozed off immediately. The next thing I remember is hearing her emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. It was nearly seven o'clock—time to get ready for work. She must have heard me frantically getting ready, because she greeted me with a cheerful "Good Morning" and told me to put all my dirty laundry in the laundry basket. I was ahead of her; I had woken up with one pair of her used pants on my pillow, and another was still wrapped around my flaccid cock. The night before, I had used a tissue to wipe the blood from my chest and abdomen. After giving her pants one last sniff and burying them deep in the laundry basket, I flushed them down the toilet.
She had already showered and dressed for work, looking flawless in her tight-skirted business suit. At breakfast, I asked her what time she had come home; she smirked and said it was none of my business. Even though there was no sign that she had been sexually active until the wee hours of the morning, I was worried about getting an erection just thinking about her wearing stockings under her skirt.
As I made my way to work, I realized that something had changed inside of me. I stopped rationalizing the intense sexual desire that had been building up inside of me whenever I thought about my mother, which was now quite frequent. It was clear that I had crossed a boundary when my love for her turned into overtly incestuous longing; I wanted nothing more than to have sexual relations with her.
I went so far as to fantasize about ways I could make it happen that I used them as masturbation material every night. I would often take two pairs of her old pants and put them in the laundry basket. Before I went to sleep, I would sometimes listen to the sound of the basket lid dropping after she had put the clothes she had worn that day in there. I would be fortunate enough to place the gusset of a pair of pants that smelled like pussy while still warm to my nose.
Please, please, please.
I began to look forward to Lydia's calls and develop strong feelings for her. I still occasionally fantasized about her and her mother, Marline, and this was shortly after my first sneaky bedroom search with my mom. Lydia had been in Aberdeen for over a month, and we had spoken at length on multiple occasions as we began to get to know each other.
I snuck myself and my phone up to my mom's bedroom so I could play with my penis while we spoke—under Lydia's nose, of course—because my mom was out all night again and Lydia and I couldn't get a good video signal, so we had to settle for a voice call. It was a thrilling erotic experience to sit on my mom's dressing table and talk to my sister.
We spoke about our families and shared stories of our father's absence, but mainly we compared notes on our mothers. I began to confide in Lydia about my mother's metamorphosis, but first she teased me in her usual way; she was getting bolder and more explicit with each phone call. This time, though, I couldn't see her expressions, so she had me manipulated. I was twenty-five years older than her, but my little sister was bossing our interactions with her playful banter.
"I spoke to my mom a few minutes ago; she asked me to give you her love."
"Oh, okay, please tell her thank you and pass on my love to her."
"You should really just hand it to her face-to-face."
I had already slipped my fingers inside my underwear's waistband and was unbuttoning the fly of my jeans.
"Er, yes, it would be nice for us all to meet up again."
"She likes you."
Question: "Is that so?""
"Yes, she calls you my hot new brother."
"Oh!"
"Are you fond of her?"
"Yes, she's really nice."
"Stop being shy; I know you understand. "Do you feel a crush on her?"
The answer was plainly yes, but I was at a loss for words, so I remained silent.
"What is wrong?" "Do you have a tongue?"
"Well, she is very attractive, I mean..."
I thought you did. What can I say? She's very fantastical, isn't she? If given the opportunity, I believe she would seize a charming younger man.
I put the phone on "speaker" and undid my jeans and slacks all the way to my ankles so I could check out my erect cock. I did my best to seem normal, but I was worried she could be picking up on my lie, so my answers were awkward and my breathing was shallow.
"Are you still around, or did you go to attend to some business?"
"What?"
You aren't a virgin, so it's irrelevant."
"What? No, I've had my fair share of problems.
"Hmm, how about we spend a little time alone?"
"I know that you're just winding me up now."
Is that right?"
"Yes, you're a tease."
"Mmm, teasing is fun, isn't it? In fact, I think you find your younger sister's lively banter entertaining.
"Maybe I do."
"I wish I was there with you."
"I wish you were here too."
I had reduced my actions to gently massaging and stroking the underside of my penis at this juncture. My sister's seductive, warm-voiced insinuation got me really excited.
"We'll get together at Christmas, when term ends. I'm really looking forward to that, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"What are you going to get me for a Christmas present?"
"Uh, er... well, I hadn't thought about it yet."
"To simplify matters, procure for me some seductive red lingerie and the most truncated and ostentatious Santa dress that one can locate."
My mouth dropped open once again.
"Are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Do you know what I'm going to get you for Christmas?"
She had drawn me near, so I ceased caressing my member; I was hesitant to come at this time.
"Er, no, I couldn't even guess."
"Shall I tell you?"
"Yes okay."
"Me."
"What?"
"I'm going to give myself to you as a Christmas present." "I'll come gift-wrapped if you like; in fact, I'll come in any way that you want me to."
"Fuck."
"Yes, that's the general idea. Poor lamb. I'm tormenting you now, aren't I? If I keep this up, you'll get into a sticky mess."
How could she have known that I was only joking around?
She exclaimed, "I adore this way of conversing with you; it's such a pleasure," followed by a sequence of low sighs and a rumbling moan that gave the impression that she had her fingers in her pussycat.
"There's someone we haven't talked about yet."
"Who's that?"
"Your mom is so silly," I said. "How exactly is she?"
"She's bought heaps of new clothes because her old stuff no longer fits her; you should see her." She said, "She's lost weight and firmed up by going to the gym a couple of times a week." Thank you for asking.
"Um, sure! I'd love to. She's really pleasant, and I have a strong impression of her." She works as a solicitor, doesn't she?
"Yes."
"She's a classy woman; she looked hot at the funeral wearing that hat and veil." If she's slimmed down and toned up even more, I bet she's an absolute babe now. I don't know how you keep your hands off her."
At the tip of my arched member, a drop of fluid formed, and it pulsed. As I delicately touched the bottom with my fingers, my thumb rested on top, just below the glans. In an effort to not come too soon, I held my hand still.
"You've gone very quiet, brother; what are you thinking? Go on, tell me what dirty thoughts you're having about your mother."
No, I still couldn't answer.
"Alright, I can tell you're really aroused without a master's degree in psychology." What's your stunning mother up to with her new clothes? Is she sexually aroused whenever you see her in her new clothes? She definitely does, and I'm willing to wager. Am I the only one who feels this sexually aroused? Has she been purchasing anything? Doesn't she have to wear skirts and business suits because she's a lawyer? as well as stilettos... Delightful, indeed. Her stilettos are sure to be figure-hugging, and she has been seen wearing form-fitting skirts and dresses recently. What do you think she's hiding, from your perspective? ... It would be lovely if she wore revealing undergarments and hosiery, or hold-up socks with delicate lace hems. Alternatively, she might dare to wear something daring beneath those alluring, form-fitting pencil skirts, such as suspenders and stockings. Is anything wrong? She must be completely unaware of the impact she's making on you. Oh, very unfortunate. Still, I'd wager that she does. "I'm certain she's having a good time, and I'm certain you're exposing your seed at each available moment."

A sudden climax was building in my balls as Lydia talked in a low, seductive tone. I was extremely aroused. Her judgment of my mother's metamorphosis was eerily accurate, delivered in a voice reminiscent of sweet honey. As my balls contracted, air slowly trickled down my cock, dribbled across the chair seat, and eventually pooled into a thick liquid. I maintained my position and indulged in the prolonged and escalating intensity of the half-orgasm while my genitalia wailed for manual stimulation. The feeling was out of this world.
Lydia seemed to be on the verge of arrival, as I could hear her weak breathing and the sound of her ecstatic, small moans. I picked the perfect phrases to push her over the brink without giving it any thought.
"Would you like to watch me fuck my mother?"
"Ohh! Fuck, yes, yes, fuck her, fuck her for me, yes, fuck her hard, oh God, ohhhh... ffffffuccckk."
I felt an additional wave of excitement as soon as I heard her approach. As I pounded my cock's shaft, it went off like a grenade. As waves of ecstasy surged through me, I let out all of my semen upon the surface of my mother's vanity. After a considerable pause, I broke the stillness.
"Fuck, that was awesome!"How on earth were you able to describe my mother so well?"
She mewed softly about what she called "women's intuition."
"Whatever it was, you nailed her. "I'm convinced that someone's giving her a regular fucking at the moment; she's always looked well-dressed and professional, but she's definitely taken it a bit further than what would be expected for work, especially when she goes out in the evenings; she's definitely dressing to turn someone on."
"Well, it sounds as though she'll be turning a lot of people on." "Have you considered that she might be intending to turn you on as well?"
"Fuck!"
"You never know; she might be having the odd inappropriate thought about her son." She might like your adoring glances and, evidently, your renewed fascination with her following our father's death. Surely she would. It seems like her relationship with her dad ended a long time ago, like my mother's.
"If that's the case, she'll surely enjoy her liberated lifestyle and, with her toned figure and fashionable new threads, the admiration and praise she receives." She's beautiful, but I'm willing to bet she's been hiding for a long time. Now that she's out in the open, she looks incredibly alluring, and I have no doubt that she's aware of this. She'll surely take pleasure in aroused conversations, even with her handsome, hot son."
It was like a locomotive crashing into me. Lydia could have a point; my mom could have been playing with me on purpose to get a rush. At the time, I had no idea that my sister had insight that I lacked.
We decided to stop the conversation and schedule another session for a few days from now to have more phone sex. We were just starting to get to know one another, and I was looking forward to consummating our relationship when my sister came home for Christmas. As a young heterosexual man, I thought I was pretty typical until my father passed away. In the months leading up to his death, I had little prospect of having sex with women, but I still loved them and enjoyed having intercourse with them when I did. Little did I know that a few months later, my sister and I would be engaging in sexual fantasies about having incest with our mother over the phone. What in the world was going on?
The following details are important: *******************
With great anticipation, I fantasized about my sister and looked forward to our daily video chat sex. ex. If the signal was weak and we had to use voice calls, for some reason, it seemed even more sensual and personal. I would retreat to my bedroom if my mother were to be home during our conversation. Lydia sat downstairs, blissfully unaware that her son and sister were having orgasms about seeing me rape my mom. I enjoyed the prospect of coming while listening to her dreams about mommom.
I noticed that my mother's bedroom door was somewhat ajar in the middle of November as I was getting ready for work and making my way to the top of the stairs. ly shut. She appeared to be wearing a delicate silk dressing robe. I saw her as she slipped on black stockings and secured them to her black blouse through the slightly ajar door. I remained fixed in place, captivated by her every move. She slipped her feet into her stilettos while I watched; then, out of nowhere, she got to her feet and headed for the door. Thanks to the falling, loose clothing, I had an excellent view of her hairy bush and gorgeous pink pussycat as she moved around the edge of the bed. shrub and a stunning pink kitten. mystic bird. She didn't seem to notice my presence until she completely opened the door and nearly collided with me. I pretended not to care.
"Oh, I thought you were downstairs, darling; you scared me standing there like that."
Time froze as she peered down and noticed my erection protruding from my pants before I could utter a word. She stared at my groin for what felt like an eternity, until she briefly met my eyes, her cheeks turning red, and I could feel her nipples pushing through the delicate silk. A silent, uncontrollable moan escaped her lips as she separated them. As our sexual tension reached an all-time high, all I could think about was passionately kissing her and enveloping her in an embrace.
I looked over at her left shoulder with a playful face reminiscent of a child, avoiding making eye contact as she stood there. It seemed like a dare, but she remained still. She must have sensed how much I desired her, but I lacked the guts to ask for her.
If I don't start moving soon, I'll be late, I stammered.
Still quite aroused and kicking myself for passing on that chance, I whipped out my jacket and headed for the office.
I missed her going back to her room, locking the door behind her, and retrieving her vibrator from the nightstand.
After that, she began leaving the door slightly ajar every morning, and I would observe while she put on her shoes and stockings like a show. She must have guessed that I was observing her by now. My sister may have been correct; she appeared to like my covert attention, and I continued to believe that she was fucking someone else.
Unspokenly, she quickly elevated our closeness to new heights. She began physical contact with me one morning as she was getting ready to go to work; it was so casual that it appeared natural.
"Aren't you going to kiss your mother goodbye, darling?"
She kissed me gently on the cheek as we embraced. The length of time the mother and son embraced was a little excessive. With the complete embrace, my cock began to awaken as her stomach rubbed against mine.
"Dear, you are free to embrace me at any time; I am concerned that you have no physical contact with anyone. It's good for your emotional health to have a nice, warm cuddle with someone now and again."
She moved over to the front door while flashing me an indulgent smile. I guess she sensed that I was staring at her swaying hips and buttocks in her pencil skirt, and that she had my full attention. The second she slammed the door, I hurried upstairs and poured globules of water into the toilet bowl.
The embracing became routine, occurring both before leaving for work and upon returning home. After the first time, she stopped pressing against my cock, as if to signal her dominance and leave me wondering when she would do it again. Our "mating dance" was only beginning, but it was immediately clear that she was in charge and could dictate its trajectory.
She donned a form-hugging, knee-length, long-sleeved black pencil dress one evening on her way out to visit her "friend." The combination of her exquisite knit dress, black seam stockings, and stilettos made her seem absolutely breathtaking. I felt my heart race the second I laid eyes on her. As I dove to put dishes in the dishwasher, I looked up and saw her standing nearby. As I took a step forward, I absorbed every aspect of her: her suspender bumps, four-inch high heels, flat, toned stomach, and full-figured breasts. My mouth dropped wide, and I said only two words, all because I couldn't control the passion in my expression.
"Fuck, mother!"
She appreciated my excitement, but it left me feeling like a child in a candy store, denied a treat.
"Well? How do I look?"
"You look absolutely stunning," I blurted out as I stumbled uncontrollably towards her.
She wore her brown hair loosely in a chignon, her nails and lips a vibrant shade of red.
"Ah-ah, be careful that you don't damage the goods."
She tentatively embraced me, but our lower parts did not touch, and she kissed my cheek. the face.
"I'll see you in the morning. Be good and don't do anything I wouldn't do," she remarked with a mischievous smile.
The moment I noticed her stilettos obstructing the garden path and the front door closing, I hurried into the living room and threw spunk to the ground in front of the sofa.
Kisses and hugs persisted throughout the day and evening. In a playful manner, she would delicately trace a path from my shoulders down my chest, then wrap her fingers around my waist, gently touching my delicate back. I wondered whether I was misunderstanding her or if she was just acting on her maternal instincts because she seemed so innocent when she did these things. After momentarily bending her hip into my crotch, wrapping her arms around my neck, and stroking my lips with hers, she 'accidentally' kissed my face. Even though it was barely discernible, the hint of sexuality aroused my curiosity as it showed that it was anything but innocent and that she may be accessible.
After supper one night, I was in such a sexual mood that I decided to give her a go. Wearing nothing but her form-fitting pinstriped skirt suit, white fitted shirt, and high heels, she had returned home inconveniently late from work. heels. As she rubbed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, she stood at the sink, turning her back on me. Every time she lowered herself to place a dish in the dishwasher, her skirt drew taut, revealing the straps and clips that held her suspenders. I came up behind her and put my arms around her waist, just beneath her. At the same time, I pressed down on her, pressing my quickly-forming cock into the space between her buttocks and the countertop. kitchen table.
"You don't mind me hugging you like this, do you, mother?"
My confidence grew as I was certain that I had taken the lead.
"I am always ready to give you a maternal embrace, but you are being a bit mischievous at the moment."
"I apologize. It occurred suddenly, Mom."
Despite her reprimand, she did nothing to stop me from leaning into her. After a few more seconds, she removed my arms from her waist and turned to face me. She stood over me, staring at the bulge in my pants.
"I think you need to take a cold shower, young man."
Once again, my anxiety got the best of me, and I nearly proposed that we take a shower together. However, she reclaimed control. yet again.
I was surprised when my mom insisted on wearing her hot work clothes all the way to sleep the next night. It was as if she sat intently in my line of sight the whole evening while watching TV, crossing and uncrossing her legs on purpose, smoothing her skirt over her thighs, and every so often wiping away what appeared to be nonexistent breast hair. Prior to our departure for bed, she embraced me and requested that I secure all doors.
"Let me give my gorgeous big son a hug."
My cock swelled in response to her gentle hip pressure into my groin; she then rested her head on my shoulder and encircled my body with her arms. ell. She must have been aware of it, but she continued to act as if nothing was wrong. Once it was fully formed, she planted a kiss on my cheek, released me, and bid me farewell. Until tomorrow, stay well. She was cruelly taunting me, and she was well aware of it.
The next evening, she added a new trick to her repertoire. After a while of sneaking a peek at me while she put on her stockings each morning and teasing me with kisses and hugs, she began to boast that any young woman would be lucky to have me as a catch. She firmly believed that my beauty would captivate ladies and make me appealing.
"Women notice you; I've seen it. You're a very good-looking young man." You'd be quite desirable, and you could likely have your pick.
"I think you exaggerate a little, mother."
"Absolutely not; you're hot." If I were carefree and youthful, you would be mine in an instant.
"And I'd let you."
"Mmm, you're also a very naughty man, flirting with your mother like that."
A few moments after that, she summoned me to the kitchen. She acted as though her skirt was too tight to allow her to get down from the chair she was standing on, which she was using to reach the top shelf of a cabinet. As she cautiously descended in her stiletto heels, she tied them up to expose her stocking tops. She placed her hands on my shoulders, and I gripped her waist, adoring her legs in their stockings. I had to reach out and grab her as she stepped down; otherwise, she would have fallen much more. She descended my body while her silk-encased pussycat traced the top of my thigh, her breasts remaining in close proximity to my chest the entire time. After putting her hands on my shoulders, she kissed me, said "hero," and crushed her lips against mine for an awkwardly long while.
Please, please, please.
I insisted that someone was fucking my mom on a daily basis, even though she was becoming more and more alluring to me. an individual. After her kitchen dilemma, she went to great lengths the following morning to dress attractively—but not for me. As she slipped on long hold-up pants, I saw the welt protruding from her leg. She applied lip and nail polish before donning an unusually short dress with a low V-neck. Her smooth skin, toned body, and sculpted figure made her look much younger than her thirty-something years. younger than IES. This means that no one would blink an eye if she wore a really short dress.
Her short red dress, tall black leather boots with stiletto heels, and faux fur collared coat made for a very alluring ensemble on that chilly morning in early December. I couldn't help but inquire as to her whereabouts; she informed me that she and a buddy were going on a day trip to London. Her meeting with someone for sex was obvious to me. I got out of the house ahead of her. On the way to work, I couldn't help but see my mom in her short red dress, big black coat, and boots. At that moment, the idea of spying on her phone crossed my mind. After about an hour, I informed my supervisor that I had to leave to attend to a family matter.
I checked her whereabouts just before I left the parking lot and was pleasantly delighted to see that she was still at home. I got in my car and headed to a shopping center near our house to wait for her to go. She remained still for half an hour, and I began to worry that she had either forgotten to bring her phone or had changed her mind.
Driving home, I parked a few doors away from our house because I had to know what was happening. My mom's car remained parked outside, confirming her presence. In complete secrecy, I crept past the guarded front gate and softly approached the rear entrance. . I heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the upper floor as I cautiously made my way through the kitchen and out into the hallway. I was terrified of what I might uncover; my mother would be furious if she found out I was spying on her.
Crawling up the stairs, I sidestepped the ones I anticipated would make the most noise. I could hear my mom's squeals and moans of delight as I made my way to the top step. I became completely engrossed, with my member leading the way, anticipating her arrival, as it seemed she was about to experience an orgasmic episode at home. My mother was writhing on the bed; her back arched, and she started screaming with orgasmic joy as I crept up to the half-open bedroom door and caught sight of her. From where I stood, I could see her from the waist upwards.
"Oh, God, I'm coming, you lovely bitch." Eat me, eat my cunt, ohhh, fffuckk,"
The sight of a woman tongue-fucking my mother stunned and captivated me. I cautiously crept around the door frame to get a better look. My mother was completely nude, save for her stockings and black leather boots. She turned her back on the door, clutched the sheets tightly, and let out a loud orgasmic sound that resounded throughout the room. Marline's fiery red hair made her lover's face impossible to miss.
The stunning Marline, clad in a black basque, stockings, and heels, rhythmically slid her head between my mother's legs, delivering what felt like the most intense licking my mother had ever experienced. Luckily, my mother's orgasm was long and loud, and she kept her eyes closed the whole time. As her climax subsided, Marline ascended onto the pussyjuice-coateder, and they both exclaimed with gratifying grunts and groans as their tongues whirled inside one another's mouths.
Before they caught on to the fact that I was staring at them, I had to flee the most sexual scene I had ever seen. I heard Marline's voice calling out to me as I went up the stairs.
"Now put this on and fuck me senseless, you sexy cow."
My mother mentioned that she needed a bathroom break, so I stealthily made my way back downstairs, exiting the house in the same way I had entered. I wanted to stay and watch my mother having sex with Marline, but I had been lucky so far, and a long stay would have led to my capture.
I was completely taken aback when my mother, who had changed into a v-necked cashmere sweater and tight jeans, caught a glimpse of my car driving past the house through the bedroom window. As she embraced me, I could feel her alluringly proportioned breasts pressing against my chest in the sweater. The only thing on my mind at the time was Marline's recent service of her steaming pussycat.
"Greetings, my love. "Was work good?"
"Oh, you know, sirusual, how was your trip to London?"
"It was lovely."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, nothing special; we visited a couple of galleries and had lunch in a nice restaurant."
"What did you have for lunch?"
"Oh, we fished; I believe that's it; we both consumed sea bass prepared in a delicious sauce."
"Who accompanied you?"
"Oh, just an old friend; I may have mentioned her to you before."
"No, I don't believe so. "How familiar are you with her?"
"We were at the university together."
Was Hannah the one?"
"No, somebody else." I'll make you some tea tonight; you should go rest. You must be hungry.
"Okay, but don't forget that tomorrow's your birthday, and I'm doing the catering.."
You, sweetheart, are so thoughtful of me. Just sit down, change, and I'll give you a call when it's ready.
She was going to be in the kitchen for about thirty minutes, so I retrieved my phone from my room and contacted Lydia.
"Fuck Lydia, hold the front page."
"Why? What's going on?""
The answer Lydia gave me was even more unexpected once I told her about my intention to track my mother down and find out who she was having an affair with—her mother, to be exact.
It all began shortly after the funeral, when they connected over their mutual rage at Dad. Before they knew it, they were in bed together, fucking each other like mad. It was hot, hot, hot. My mom informed me weeks ago that they had begun seeing each other. At least, that's what my girlfriend and I believe.

"But why didn't you tell me?"
"Mum told me not to let on; Renata didn't want you to know; she said she thought you wouldn't understand; if only she knew what a depraved, horny little bunny you really are; if only she'd known that you'd have wanted to watch."
"Fuck Lydia, I feel so jealous yet so turned on at the same time."
Listen, I have to leave, but you'll get over it. You should fuck your mom and then report back to me next week.
Whoa, do they have any idea who we are?" "Have you informed them?"""
"My mother is aware of my feelings for you, and she's okay with it." I've taught her about psychology, so she gets it; she complimented you on your attractiveness and didn't hold it against me.
"Yes, but have you disclosed to her that we engage in sexual fantasies involving me and my mother while engaging in mutual masturbation?"
"God, no, that's personal; it's between us; I wouldn't do that to you."
"Oh, thank God."
"Stop worrying and go find her tiger."
Lydia hasn't shown any signs of disturbance so far. It wouldn't have shocked me if she banged on her mom, but I still wondered. Three different ladies were circling my thoughts, and I desired all three of them badly. When Lydia returned home for Christmas, I was certain that we would immediately leap into bed together. Despite all that happened earlier today, I was still hoping to rape her mother, Marline. Among all the women I desired to f*ck with, my mother remained my favorite.
I went to the kitchen to join her once she signaled that tea was ready. As we dined in near silence, my mom promptly retired for the night. Despite the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head, one strong desire trumped all others, and I was close behind her. I had to experience what I'd seen before with my cock held in my hand. As Marline used her tongue to give my mother the look of a pussycat expert, I closed my eyes and imagined my mother's glorious arrival.
Please, please, please.
Upon awakening, I immediately achieved an erection; however, the sight of Marline and my mother arouse me to the point where I had a feeble erection in the shower. I elected to disregard it and relish the sensation of my cock expanding and gaining mass as it clung to my underwear.
For the first time in weeks, my mother had shut the door to her bedroom. Rather than her customary rehearsed taunting, she appeared anxious and apprehensive when she made her way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Her usual radiance was absent, although her appearance remained unchanged. I sent birthday wishes her way and promised to let her open her gift later that night. I was making a special supper, so I told her she couldn't be late.
She surprised me by saying goodbye and then leaving without giving me a kiss or an embrace. I couldn't help but admire her as she gracefully strode down the road in her high heels. But what is different now? I felt a little bewildered. She was so concerned and had ceased her alluring flirtation with me after I revealed her nasty secret—but she had no idea I had
Two dry-aged ribeye steaks were among the items I purchased on my way home from work early. At one end of the enormous wood dining table, I had set up two seats facing each other, and I had baked the Dauphinoise potatoes. I had opened a bottle of "Chateauneuf-du-Pape" and poured it into a glass as a backup plan. We prepared ourselves to blow out the candles and unveil her gift.
When I purchased it three days ago, it seemed perfect considering the trajectory of our relationship, but now I'm having second thoughts. It seemed like a better way to express my feelings for my mother—that she was a sexual creature, an incredibly attractive lady whom I wished to satisfy in bed—than with a set of provocative underwear. It may have caused her to reevaluate her assumptions, which would have helped me determine if she was sincere about wanting to date me or if she was just enjoying teasing her son.
I was hoping that the lingerie would make her respond in some way, any way, since I wanted to know where I stood with her considering her present state of mind. Her key rapped against the front door, and I was about to get the answer.
"Hi, Mother, Happy Birthday. Everything is prepared; all you have to do is go and make yourself even more beautiful than you are already."
"Would you mind if I had a cup of tea to unwind with first? Today has been absolutely draining."
"Okay, I'll put the kettle on; you can open your birthday present."
I brought the gift-wrapped box from the lounge and gave it to her as we entered the kitchen. She sat at the table, looking both distracted and slightly anxious, as if she didn't know what to do with her hands. She began to open her present while I poured the tea, and her expression was priceless as she struggled to decide whether to accept my compliments or scold me for my inappropriate behavior.
I slipped two packs of ten denier, black, seamed stockings into the box, and she took the waist-high, silky black 'Victoria's Secret' corset out and held it up, her face flushing red as she examined the long, integral suspender straps and the wide, low-rise matching thong.
"What do you think?"
Eventually, she spoke after a few seconds of looking at me suspiciously, as if she didn't know what I was getting at.
Purchasing your mother's racy underwear clearly shows that you are a mischievous young man. How am I expected to respond?"
"I was hoping very much that you'd wear your present with that stunning, black, knitted dress you wore when you went out with your girlfriend a couple of weeks ago."
I needed to move on since the term "girlfriend" cast a shadow over her face, and I knew it was too close to reality.
Are you planning to embrace me or insist that I take everything back to the store?"
Our passionate connection endured long enough for my penis to start swelling and pulsating with excitement; she embraced me tightly, her arms around my neck, and I slipped my hands inside her suit jacket, drawing her closer.
"Do you have any idea how big I am?" "I hear you," she whispered into my ear.
"Ah, that's my secret."
It must be Victoria's, right? "Which one would you rather have—my knicker drawer or the laundry basket?" she said, her laughter betraying her desire to see my face."
I felt it was my turn to appear ashamed, and I admitted to her that I often searched her underwear drawers for the alluring aroma of her pussycat in the laundry basket. I didn't want her to know that.
She said with a grin, "You are an exceptionally mischievous young man; refrain from catching me with your hands on my pants, or I may be compelled to smack your buttocks."
It made me happy that she was once again teasing and flirting with me, despite the fact that it caused my already swollen cock to go into a frenzy of excitement; therefore, I could only laugh pitifully at her joke.
"If you're ready for a spectacular culinary experience, madam, I'll start on the steaks."
It sounds like I'm going to have a wonderful evening; I'm looking forward to it. "Give me an hour. I have some feminine matters to attend to, including taking a shower. After that, I will be completely yours," she said as she gently kissed my cheek. "
"Okay, I'll take a quick shower and change; I'll see you in an hour."
I held back a laugh about how we could save water if we showered at the same time, and I watched as she swayed in her tight pencil skirt down the hall. A tingling sensation of anticipation settled into my stomach. I was sure this was my chance to fuck my stunning mother, and I was determined not to waste it.
Humming a nice tune, I soaked my shoulders and arms, struggling to see her clearly through the steamy shower glass. However, I managed to change into my best charcoal grey suit and a clean pale blue shirt before heading down the landing to my mother's bedroom, where an open door led to her en suite. A mirror hung over the sink, reflecting her in the walk-in shower.
I didn't immediately realize that she might have purposefully left the doors open; my greater concern was the potential for her to turn around and find me ogling her like a pervert, so I headed downstairs to prepare dinner. As I watched her naked back to me, I felt like a voyeur.
The only thing left to do was fry the steaks to our desired medium-rare. Once the griddle pan reached the correct temperature, which would take about five minutes, I mustered the bravery to stand at the foot of the stairs and watch as my mother put on her stockings. Just as I was about to reconsider, she called my name.
I need you to come and give me a hand, baby. Calum, would you kindly do me that?"
"Okay."
My pulse quickened as I climbed the stairs. She stood in her bedroom in front of the full-length wardrobe door mirror, admiring her reflection in her black, fine-knit dress. Her brown hair was in a loose chignon, just like last time. She wore two gold earrings in each ear; one was a stud, and the other was long and dangling. Her lips and long, manicured fingernails were deep red; her black leather and gold metal filigree-heeled stilettos were high; and her seamed, black stockings swathed her long, shapely legs all the way up under her knee-length, pencil-cut dress to the tops of her thighs. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, and her suspender fastenings were just faintly visible beneath the soft, fine material.
Reaching into the mirror, she extended a delicate gold chain necklace, adorned with a little red garnet set in a golden bezel. Her hazel eyes gleamed as we locked gazes in the reflection.
"Fasten this for me, please, darling; it's too fiddly for me."
She trembled, and goosebumps appeared around her collarbones as I stood behind her, put the fine gold chain around her slim neck, and hooked the clasp, purposefully grazing her nape with my fingertips. I gently placed my hands on her shoulders, then cupped the tops of her arms. Just above her cleavage, the garnet was positioned on her décolletage; she appeared more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
"Oh! My love, what are you up to now? You're making me feel frightened.
"I apologize; I didn't intend to. You have a lovely scent. May I ask what you're wearing?" I lied."
"I've reverted to nostalgia; it's Chanel number five; your father despised it, so I'm delighted that you enjoy it."
"It's very classy, just like you, Mother."
She placed her right palm on my left and said, "Ah, thanks, my darling; flattery will get you everywhere with me."
"You've got big, strong hands; that's another way that you differ from your father."
"I hope I'm as little like him as possible."
She turned to face me, her earnestness emphasized.
"You're not at all like him in any way."
She placed her hand on my forearm as we locked eyes in a passionate gaze. I wanted to kiss her passionately, but she must have thought the timing wasn't quite right because she pirouetted away from me and headed downstairs.
I paused before following her. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and questioned my intelligence. How could I have imagined my mother committing incest by letting her son fuck her for crying out loud? Whatever the case may be, it was obvious that Marline was providing her with the support she needed. If my mother was interested in women again, or even if she was on the fence, I couldn't possibly compete with Marline's knowledge and skills.
She slinked around the house in a form-fitting dress and high heels, flaunting her fit, shapely body. When I caught up with her, she was in the kitchen. I loved that her heels made her just a couple of inches shorter than me. The sound of her stilettos clicking on the hard floors downstairs was so seductive and evocative that my self-doubt disappeared.
You need not take any action, mother; we are taking care of everything. We can sit down to dinner when I finish the steaks.
"Alright, my love, I hope it's okay with you if I observe you."
Before turning the griddle pan's heat on, I warned him, "No, I'll pour you a glass of wine; it's been breathing for a couple of hours now."
"A pleasant remark," she said as she drank. "I cannot recall the last time such a discerning young man treated me to a meal and wine, but I'd better remain sober in case you attempt to exploit me in the future."
"At the very least, it would be impolite of me not to bestow upon you a birthday kiss due to your exquisite appearance."
"You're acting in an extremely mischievous and unsuitable manner once more with your mother," she teased.
"Well, it is your birthday; it would be remiss of me not to give you my special attention."
I put on my mother's apron, which was dangling from the kitchen door, to shield my clothes from the sizzling and smoking steaks in the pan.
"Mmmm, it's a good job I'm your mother; otherwise, I'd be insisting that you were naked underneath that apron."
Her comments sent shivers down my spine. I pretended to be shocked as I turned to stare at her incredulously. My cock pounded a few times, then began to engorge.
"Who's being mischievous and unsuitable now?"
She gracefully made her way to the dining table, her cheeks red with shame as she stood up from the edge of the kitchen table, where she had sprawled herself.
"I can see it's nearly ready; I'll go and sit down."
The flirtation had resumed in full force, but my remark about her being mischievous and improper had clearly unsettled her; she was thoughtful, and I would need to tread cautiously if I wanted to have any hope of luring her into a birthday kiss.
Over the last several weeks, her flirting and teasing have become more intense and pervasive. On a couple of occasions, I was quite convinced that we had been on the verge of a full-on kiss, which would have undoubtedly resulted in me burying my arched cock inside my own mother.
Nevertheless, she had appeared slightly off-kilter since last night; one second she was alluring and provocative, and the next it seemed like she was pulling away from me. Marline was the only possible explanation for what happened to me. Back then, I thought my mother, who had no idea I'd seen them in bed together, might be madly in love with her and ashamed of her son's incestuous desire to fuck her.
We sat down for dinner, and I tried to put her at ease by praising her looks and saying that any son would be lucky to have a mother like her. It was encouraging that she drank a couple of sips of the wine immediately after I refilled it; I didn't want her to be inebriated, but I did want her to be uninhibited.
"I'd love to go out with you sometime; we could go to a classy restaurant or the cinema, or maybe go and see a West End show." "Experiencing your company would be amazing; I could observe others admiring you and wishing you were their girlfriend."
"I'm forty-eight today; I think my 'girlfriend' days might be in short supply."
"Excuse me." It is highly probable that the majority of individuals would perceive us as a romantic partnership were we to go out together. You're in your prime and could easily pass for thirty-eight."
You look just as cute now as you did when I was a kid. Are you recollecting? You were a kind and caring mother; I remember sitting on your knee while you applied your cosmetics so I could see.
That happened more than twenty years ago, my love. At this moment, I doubt I could bring myself to kneel down and kiss you.
"To clarify, your appearance is as stunning as ever, if not more so; in any case, you are welcome to sit on my knee."
"I might just do that if you keep filling me with wine and giving me such lovely compliments."
I filled her glass again from the bottle, and she chuckled as she took a sip. I then gave her a firm hug and gushed over her beauty once again.
Is it producing the desired result? I demanded to know.
"It could be," she said with a smile.
I was relieved that I'd remembered to open the second bottle. As I made my way back to the table, I cleared the plates and replenished her glass. After we finished dessert, I brought in a small birthday cake with a single candle and sang Happy Birthday to her. Her expression brightened, and a tear formed in her eye, showing her delight at being the center of attention. She stood up and embraced me tightly, as if our lives depended on it.
"My parents never tried to make my birthday special; your father hardly ever remembered it. I'm thankful that you've gone to such lengths to celebrate with me, darling."
"Mom, I wanted you to know how much we love and appreciate you; you deserve to be happy."
Once again, a shadow appeared to cover her face as she released me from her tight grasp.
"What's the matter? "Is there something wrong?"
"Darling, I can't do this any longer."
I realized my worst fears: would my romance with my mother abruptly end?
"Do what?"
"This is us both pretending that we don't know what happened yesterday."
"What do you mean?" I understood her well, but I failed to comprehend her reasoning for assuming that I was familiar with her meaning.
"Did you come home from work late yesterday morning?"
"No," I said.
"Did you?"
My honest response this time was "yes."
"So you know, then?"
"Yes, but how?"
"How did I know?"
"Yes."
"I saw your car drive away from where you parked."
"Oh God!"
"Did you come into the house?"
"Yes."
"Then you must have realized that I was in bed with..."
"Yes, Adeline. I watched her make you come."
"I'm so, so sorry; I didn't want you to find out like that; it must have been horrible for you."
"Mother, it was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"Really? Really? Honestly? Oh my goodness, you don't mind that we're in a relationship?"
"No, but, to be completely honest, I'm jealous."
"Do you want to go with her?"
"Well, yes, I can't deny it, but that's not what I meant."
"Wait, what did you mean?"
"I was jealous of her, not you."
The big, sturdy wood table served as our backdrop while we remained standing by its side. The birthday cake, with its faintly lit candle, remained the sole object on the table. As my mother realized I was expressing my desire to fuck her, a shadowy expression crossed her face. Her gaze was alluring as she met mine.
"Do you still want to give me that birthday kiss?"
There was a brief moment when our lips met, and then another, longer one. We kissed passionately at first, and then she held me even more tightly. It was the most exquisite feeling ever to have my mother's tongue in my mouth. We had an intimate encounter, with her pussycat crushed against my thigh and my stiff cock against her hip. As she swung her pelvis around and forcefully rubbed herself against me, I could feel the heat radiating from her. With my left hand, I reached under her skirts and grasped her right buttock, pressing my right fingers into her mound.
Her lips released a gasp as her labia parted, leading her to thrust her tongue deeper into my mouth. She compelled the expansion of my genitalia to pass through my pants as she descended between our bodies with her right hand. While we continued to kiss passionately, she took off my suit jacket and slipped it over my shoulders. Afterwards, she leaned back against the table and drew me in by the tie. Again, we kissed. My need intensified as I sensed the strap fastening around her left thigh.
Her voice crackled with a sense of urgency as she said, "Do you like me in stockings?"
"Fuck yes, if only you knew how much it turns me on."
I struggled to free my arms from the sleeves, but I hadn't undone the cuffs while she quickly unbuttoned my shirt. She took advantage of my situation by removing my belt buckle and pant zipper. Simultaneously with her action of allowing my undergarments to descend to my knees, I successfully unfastened myself from my shirt sleeves, exposing my arched genitalia.

"My, my, what a lovely big man you are—much bigger than your father."
As she delicately caressed it, I was about to pass out from the intense, erogenous pleasure I felt.
"Do you like that, darling?"
"Oh God, yes, it's amazing."
"Good, well, let's see if you like this."
To make room for herself, she pushed me back a little, and then she kneeled down and ate my cock. The sight and sensation of my cock protruding from my mother's lips were sensational and astounding. With her delicate fingertips, she caressed the bottom part while sucking and licking the upper half. After cupping and squeezing my balls, she delicately patted my perineum with her manicured red fingernails. She paused, got to her feet again, and kissed me right as my orgasm was starting to develop.
She slipped onto the table and pushed her dress's hem to the top of her thighs. She whispered, "I don't know how many years I've fantasized about seducing you and letting me f*ck you."
"Pull my thong down, darling."
In front of her, I undressed, taking off my shoes, socks, socks, and pants. She had not taken off her clothes.
She remarked in a low, enticing tone, "Mmm, your vulnerability is precisely how I like my men."
I delicately wrapped my fingers around her thong and tugged till it fell down her thighs and over her stockings. A powerful, musky aroma wafted from her pussycat, which only served to heighten my arousal.
After she reclaimed command of my privates, she shifted her weight on the table, sending the birthday cake tumbling to the floor. As I pulled her up onto the table, she continued until she laid down the entire length of it. I was happy to follow her direction because she seemed to have everything under control. I treasured the feeling of my mother captivating and taking me.
"You're my lovely big son, and I'm going to show you how to delight your mother."
With her knees spread wide, she brushed my face against her thighs and placed her palm on top of my head. It was as if her high-heeled stilettos were unconcerned that they were scratching the tablet.
"Be a good boy and eat your mother's cunt until she begs you for forgiveness."
While she encircled my shoulders with her stockinged thighs, I buried my face in her pussycat. The sensation was delightful—warm, wet, and delicious. She relished the moments when I sucked and nibbled her clitoris; the sensation of her swollen labia's soft cushions against my cheeks drove me wild.
"My goodness, that's really fantastic, my dear."Also, lay your large middle finger on me.
"Oh, fuck yes, that's... oh God, you're good... oh yes, not too fast, that's it, nice and slow; don't make your mother come just yet."
She started to breathe more shallowly as she groaned and sighed. When Marline placed her lips on my mother's pussycat the day before, I was able to discern the pattern of her sounds. My mother's pussycat was the object of her intense kiss. mystic bird. pussy Either she was on the same wavelength as me, or she understood my intentions. With her left hand, she firmly gripped my hair, and with her right hand, she firmly grasped my stiff cock. She gently drew me up until our faces met.
Her strength was palpable as she firmly held my head in place. I could tell she worked out regularly. She proceeded to suck her pussycat pussycat pussycat secretions off my face with a long, big tongue. After she was pleased with licking me clean, she stretched her legs wide and helped my frantic cock into the entrance. Since she was extremely slick and wet, I had no difficulty exposing my entire body to her. transforming my entire being into her. I eased myself in until my mother's warm cunt—a snug and hard blanket—encircled my shaft. I felt the comforting embrace of my mother's body. For an awkward second, she shivered and then started to talk. She paused for an eternity before speaking.
"Oh! You're so big," she said, encircling my waist with her embrace.
"It's over, you dirty man.
As I slowly slid in and out of her, my mother gasped in shock. She held onto my shoulders as I rhythmically fucked her, listening to her erotic expressions of intense pleasure. She spoke to me in breathless, fragmented sentences, and her words sent waves of delight through my balls and submerged cock.
What good is it for a woman to have a son from a hot, gorgeous, and sexually gifted man if she doesn't make good use of him?
She continued to use foul language with me.
Our cock is the biggest. "Oh my, you're the finest person I've ever met." "Oh my, do me; make me come." "Kkk. Keep going." Please, please, please, let me come... Make me worship you, please. My, my, my son is charming. Oh my gosh, please get me here.
She clung to me tenaciously despite my violent fists; the table began to shake, and my mother began to sob. The rhythmic, gentle thrusting accelerated, and we matched each other's motions precisely, as if our bodies were one.
Arghhhh, "Fuck me, fuck me hard, make my mother come."
Her precarious position was obvious to me. I was ecstatic with my skills. She was powerless in the face of her son's arrogance, and I had fought valiantly to avoid confronting her. the c*ck of her son. As I unloaded my burden into my mother while concealing the cunt wall, I experienced a sensation of my balls contracting and releasing. It was an incredible sensation! My mother, who had been penetrated by my throbbing cock, was trembling and jolting as she approached me in a spectacular display.
In all my years, I had never had such an exquisitely sinful sensation. Since our incestuous relationship was illegal, I was rock solid. We reveled in the aftereffects of mother and son's extraordinary, passionate act of sexual love, and proceeded to fuck leisurely for what seemed like an eternity.
My mom's gentle whispers transformed into the gasping groans of a lady preparing for an orgasmic release at some point. She pleaded with me to bring her back a second time, and she attempted to cling to my shoulders once more. I confined her by placing my arms around her head, overpowered her, and used my protruding cock to nail her pussycat to the table. While her head swiveled from side to side, she yelled my name, acting as if she were struggling.
As I fucked and subdued my mother in an incestuous cunt, I expended every ounce of pleasure I had, transmitting shockwaves of twisted ecstasy through my genitalia as I observed her endeavor to emancipate herself. the vagina. After laying still for a while in silence, she broke the ice and started talking to me.
"Jesus, darling, that was awesome, so intense; I've secretly lusted after you for months, years even, and I'd hoped you'd be a good fuck, but that was something else; it was even better than my masturbation fantasies about you."
Who would have guessed that my own mother would be so incredibly arrogant? However, prior to disclosing my confession, I must also assert that you are an exceptional fuck." "The vile, incestuous desire I have for you is undeniably desirable." I aspire to be your lover; I do not want this to be an isolated incident.
That's obvious, my sweetheart. What, though, is your confession? "sion?"
"I've been digging your used pantspants out of the wash basket for months and masturbating about you, with the scent of your sweet pussy in my nostrils and another pair of your pantspants wrapped around my cock."
"You filthy man, I adore it. It's very sensual." Moving forward, I will remove my pants and offer them to you whenever you desire them.
"Wow, you should buy a substantial quantity more online, as you will definitely require them."
"Oh, I've had a very sexual idea; do you remember when you expressed interest in treating me like a girlfriend and taking me out on dates?"
"Yeah."
"Well, we'll start dating, and sometimes I'll want you to wear a pair of my worn jeans when we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Fuck yes, I'm up for that. FuckFuck, it's so hot."
We went to the living room sofa to recuperate, but I couldn't resist donning my mom's old jeans as I dated her. While my mother was fully dressed (except for her thong), I was entirely nude, and we were passionately kissing and fondling each other on the couch. tank top. My cock began to reawaken after a lengthy period of gentle caressing and kissing, and my mother's skilled fingers quickly made sure it was stiff and ready for action.
I really wanted to fuck her in her bedroom. I then had an epiphany: the thought of fucking her as Lydia looked on filled me with delight.
"I want you again, Mother, upstairs in your bed, but I just need to make a brief phone call; I'll be back in a moment." "Here, drink your wine, and I'll be back before you know it."
I quickly made my way to my room, leaving my mother perplexed, and arranged a video call with Lydia. When she found out I had fucked my mother, she was very aroused. I suggested keeping the call open so Lydia could watch us fuck on my mother's bed, and she readily agreed. I left my large-screen laptop on my mother's nightstand, angled so that Lydia could see the entire bed, and we could see her in Aberdeen. Then I went downstairs to tempt my mother into letting me fuck her while Lydia watched.
"Who or what have you been chatting with? And where have you been?"
"Lydia, you know that we've been talking to each other a lot since the funeral; well, we've become very close—unhealthily close, some might say."
"So, don't be content with seducing your mother; you're planning incest with your sister as well."
"Well, yes, I suppose I am, but it gets juicier, and I hope you're as broad-minded as you seem to be recently."
"Are you seriously going to ask a mother who has just consented to her son getting inside her and making her come, if she's tolerant?"
"Very well; I see your argument." Anyway, Lydia and I are... and Lydia..."
She then corrected me, saying, "Lydia and I."
"Lydia and I like to watch each other masturbate to a particular sexual fantasy."
Okay, I find this fascinating, and?"
"Well, it's you; you're the fantasy, or at least you and I are." She had a brilliant idea weeks ago that I needed to f*ck you, so we've been there many times. I completely rely on her discretion and confidence in her, so I was hoping you'd consent to her observing us f*ck on your bed while she engages in masturbation on hers.
"Oh my gosh, I'll totally do it." The heat is killing me, but she has to grant my request, too.
Excuse me, what is that?""
"Come on, let's ascend to my chamber; I'm exceedingly aroused, but you must succumb to my demands." y me."
I was overcome with emotion at the prospect of what my mother and I were going to do, all while Lydia was watching. My mother seized my aroused member and guided me along its length as we exited the living room, made our way into the hallway, up the stairs, and finally entered her bedroom. Her sensual hip-swaying emanated enticement, and I found myself more enticed to join in her dance.
A gasp came from Lydia's lips as she said the words, "Fuck, that's so fucking hot," in response to her video of me entering my mother's bedroom. "There's no prize for guessing who's in charge right now." "t."
"That's right, Honey," my mother said, "but before you settle down in your front-row seat to enjoy our little show, you're going to have to promise me something."
Tell me, Renata, what is it? "By the way, that dress is absolutely stunning on you."
"Thank you; you look really beautiful in your small miniskirt and skimpy top, and from what I can gather, you're not wearing trousers."
"My brother likes me in a miniskirt when I masturbate for him."
In exchange for witnessing me f*ck my child, you must consent to having your brother f*ck you during your Christmas break at home. "I like you in a miniskirt, too."
"Wow, okay, it's a deal; things move pretty fast around you, Renata."
I felt my mother's weight pressing down on my member as she instructed me to take off her earrings and let her hair down. Eventually, she released my member and directed me to take off her dress, at which point my sister gasped in shock. My mother looked stunning in her birthday dress, high heels, and loose hair on her shoulders.
“No surprise you’ve been yearning after her," my sister said.
Once again, my mother laid me down on her bed and opened her legs, taking my cock as her prisoner. Renata reached into her purse and placed her left hand behind my head, drawing my lips to hers. She teased my balls with her right hand before bringing my craving cock into her very wet cunt. Renata showed my sister how to be completely in control of a man, even when he's on top.
"That's it; come to your mother, you naughty man."
With her right hand on my buttocks, her legs wrapped around my thighs, and her left hand gripping the hair on the back of my head, she used her strength to arch her back slightly, lifting me upward as she controlled the pace of my thrusting into her. In a whisper, she told me that I should act submissive because that would really arouse my sister, and she was right.
"Alright, then. Just follow your mom's instructions and fuck her with your big cock. Oh, I see. When did you grow so big?" "Mmmmm, your mother loves your cock; she wants to feel it inside her, and she wants to watch you put it inside your sister."
Lydia was getting more and more excited, and I could hear her gasping and groaning as if she were about to arrive. While she masturbated, my mom watched. My mother, on her 48th birthday, seemed to love the concept that my beautiful twenty-two-year-old sister found her sexually attractive, while Lydia appeared to be getting a kick out of the idea that my mother was coercing her son into fucking her.
"Are you enjoying this, Lydia, honey?"
"Oh, yes, Renata. Yes."
"Do you want your brother to fuck you?" he asked. "Do you want to feel his big cock inside you?"
"Oh, yes, I want him to fuck me; I want my brother's big cock to fill my cunt."
"Would you like me to watch while he fucks you?"
"Yes, yes, oh God, yes."
"Would you like me to touch myself while I watch him fucking you?"
"Oh God, yes, yes, please; I'd love to see that."
So, you want me to show up and watch your brother screw you, or what?
"Yes, fuck yes, oh God, yes, I want to watch you come."
"Would you like me to touch you and make you come while you're sitting on his cock?"
Aaarggghhhh, ffffuuuckkkk, yesssss.
In response to my mother's alluring and playful tone, Lydia seized her vibrator and started vigorously shafting herself. Her back arched, her legs spread wide, and her pelvis lurched back and forth as she approached with an almost violent intensity. This roused my mother to an even higher level of arousal, and she encircled my waist, grabbed my arms, and turned me onto my back. I refrained from engaging in a struggle with her after she secured my position, and she fucked me with a swift thrust of her pelvis while pressing my arms against the bed.
After I let go, she painted her cunt with Come's ropes, squeezed every last drop of pleasure out of me using her pelvic floor muscles, and then, exhausted but victorious, she closed the laptop lid and blew a kiss to my sister, who was staring at her with wonder.
That night and into the early hours, we had more passionate encounters. The following day, we both took a day off and spent it in bed. That night, she invited me back to her bed, as well as the one after that. My mother and I quickly became lovers, and for a while, we were fucking each other everywhere we went after work. I held her in all sorts of dangerous positions, like the hallway floor, the kitchen worktops, bent over the sofa and table, against any available wall, and once, on a pitch-black night, in her car on the driveway, wearing a skirt pulled up to her waist and provocative stockings and suspenders to accentuate our discreet feign.
My mother told me that she would continue to date Lydia's mom, Marline. I didn't argue, especially when she told me that Marline had consented to a sexual union with me. We invited Lydia to watch us a couple more times; she would soon be home from university and join us in bed, this time in person.
By the time my sister had gotten back from university, Marline wanted her daughter out of the way for the night, and Lydia had no choice but to retreat to my mother's bed, so our first date ended up at her place because she wanted it to be a private affair.
Just a few days from now, my mother and I will be going on our first official date as a couple. She had reserved a table at an exclusive restaurant, and for the three days leading up to our date, she would wear the same pair of lacey black slacks that I would wear.
Midway through December, on a lazy Sunday morning, I lay in bed, having fucked my mother as soon as we woke up. I was so enraged at the thought of her putting on her pants—which smelled like pus—while she was preparing breakfast in the kitchen that I seized the opportunity to have a delectable sneaky wank, which she witnessed.
While she masturbated me and captured my yearning erection, she pretended to scold me, then told me to lie still. She looked out the window and pretended not to notice. I was so aroused that I shot myself in the chest and abdomen.
As she removed my semen from her fingers, she made a comment about how she dealt with mischievous men and threatened to scold me if I did it again. I joked that her threat would make me want to be naughty all the time, and she seemed to hope that I would.
My father's double life and unexpected death had united us all, and now my mother, sister, and her mother were about to go on an amorous adventure. Life was good.

We had an unhealthy obsession with one another that no mother and son should ever have. My dad was a bigamist, as his unexpected demise made clear. My mother and Marline, the other lady he had "married," developed an unusually tight bond; they helped each other get over the shock by offering words of encouragement, most often while they were in bed. Concurrently, my mother and I had begun to move inexorably toward a sexual connection. On her forty-eighth birthday, my eager cock descended into her warm, moist cunt, where she tortured, tormented, and seduced me, and our love affair became insatiable.
Lydia, my half-sister, was born as a joyful byproduct of my father's bigamy. My incestuous relationship with my mother wasn't enough; I had also nearly committed incest with Lydia. Obsessive feelings, often sexual, surface when adult siblings meet for the first time; this was clearly the case for Lydia and myself. She had returned to her university in Aberdeen the day after our brief meeting during our father's funeral, and I had only seen her once before. Because Aberdeen is 10 hours away, neither the road nor the train will allow us to meet in person.
Because we couldn't meet in person, we decided to familiarize ourselves over video chat until we could finally meet up around Christmas, when she would be home for the holidays. Unfortunately, the idea of me masturbating my mother in front of Lydia's camera quickly converted our video conversations into bouts of reciprocal masturbation.
Yes, Lydia had seen our video dream come true; despite the distance, she had even developed her own erotica with Renata, my mom. A lot has transpired in the past two weeks.
In the days leading up to Christmas, my mom had arranged all of my dates and my sexual life. The next three days were shaping up to be quite incestuous, but I was happy to go along with her sexy agenda.
She would take me out on a romantic date as our partner on Wednesday, arrange for me to fuck my sister on Thursday while she watched, and then go on a date with Lydia on Friday, all while I dated Marline. My mom would be wearing her Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve, and my siblings and I would go to a nearby watering hole, where we would try our best to refrain from touching one another until we returned home.
Traditionally, Marline and Lydia would gather with their extended family on Christmas Day. From December 26th through the 30th, they would go to Ireland to visit Marline's mother. Thus, Marline would coordinate our New Year's Eve festivities so that the four of us could ring in the new year side by side.
Please, please, please.
There was no denying the profound impact this had on my connection with my mom. Even though we were romantically involved and slept in her old marriage bed, I couldn't help but notice that she was beginning to treat me more like a child. Even though she clearly viewed herself as the dominant partner in our incestuous relationship, there were moments when it felt like we were on equal ground. The concept was great.
A tight-fitting skirted submission to my beautiful, well-adjusted mother has an endearingly kinky quality. I was really excited by the thought of her taking control of my genitalia and using me for her own pleasure. She wore loose latex and carried a whip, yet her power was sexy and understated. A non-defiant expression, body language, or vocal intonation was what it took. I felt utterly subservient to her and eager to obey her as she gradually asserted her dominance over me. In the blink of an eye, she was able to switch from being my equal to my "Mother Superior."
The night before our first official date, she returned home from work after a long day. I prepared her a sandwich and some tea because she wasn't really ravenous. I had already changed into my pajamas and a t-shirt, but she apparently didn't feel the need to do the same, maybe since it was already late. While wearing a figure-hugging pin-striped skirt and high heels, she perused a piece on the 'Literotica' website from the comfort of her huge recliner.
As she scrolled down the page, her thumb delicately traced a nipple through the fabric of her somewhat see-through top. I was observing her, and she was aware that I was doing so even though the TV was on at a low volume. Whenever she reached an exciting portion of the narrative, her lips would open slightly, and she would fiddle with her necklace while placing her hand between her breasts. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, as if she were trying to squash her pussycat between her thighs and the muscles of her pelvic floor.
I could see her stocking welt stretched taut by a straining suspender strap as her skirt rode up a bit higher with each recross of her legs. Her performance elicited the desired response from me, to the extent that I gently traced my thumbnail along the length of my swollen cock while it pressed against my tight pants.
As it coursed through my body, I felt a surge of excitement—throbbing glans, a tightening of my balls, and a damp spot on the denim from a few droplets of water that flowed out. Earlier, when I changed, I decided not to wear briefs because I was afraid it could arouse my mother when she reached for her son's erect cock after unbutting his fly.
It was clear that her eyes were fatigued as she was donning her reading glasses. Looking over the top of the frames, she spoke to me like a severe librarian.
"What have I told you about playing with yourself without my permission?"
With that one phrase, she established the tone for the whole evening, and I was both terrified and delighted to play the subservient position she had given me.
"I'm sorry, Mother.. I promise I won't do it again."
"It's too late, young man; you've come in your pants."
"Only a little."
"You won't be able to help your mom out if you're not strong physically; from now on, isolate yourself." Stay still until I finish telling this narrative. Take a seat on the floor. Follow my instructions; I will closely monitor your actions.
"Yes, Mother."
She made no secret of how aroused she was; she emitted soft little groans of pleasure and squeezed her nipples between a thumb and finger as she read the best bits. est bits. As I watched my incredibly attractive mother tease me while reading her story, I thought I might come spontaneously. My balls hurt, and my cock kept twitching.
She reached an especially sensual section of the story, gasped, dropped her iPad, and drew her narrow hemline up over her thighs as far as it would go. Then she reached between her legs and caressed the silky gusset of the pantspants I would be wearing on our date the following night. She resumed reading on the iPad, pressing her panty gusset into the moist cleft between her labia.
She spoke in a quivering voice: "You, young man, I'm still watching you." Don't think you can disobey me."
As I read while perched on my hands with my cock pulsating against taut, wet denim, I observed my mother masturbate delicately. She looked absolutely lovely in her stocking tops, suspenders, and high heels.
As the story came to a close, she let out an excruciating gasp, snapped the iPad shut, placed it on the seat beside her, and drew her damp pants to one side. She applied pressure to her clenching cunt with three fingers on her right hand, while massaging her erect little bud with her thumb. Her head leaned back against the chair, her back arched, and she rhythmically fingered herself until orgasm began.
As she started to speak, she looked up from her reading glasses and locked eyes with me. Her dark-brown bobbed hair coiled around her mouth, and her upper front teeth pressed into her lower lip. She mouthed, "Fuuuuckkkk," almost silently, and then her lips formed an 'o' shape, making deep, seductive sounds of pleasure and ecstasy.
As I sat on my hands, my mother purposefully strutted over to the sofa, her skirt clinging to her thighs. With a graceful and feminine movement, she removed her soaked pants and stepped out of them. She smoothed her skirt down, inhaling the aroma of her panty gusset. She smiled as she noticed my jeans, which had a bulge and a wet patch.
"Is my mischievous little man in his underwear now?"
When I looked at her, I begged her, "Please, let me fuck you, Mother."
She whispered the words in a seductive tone, "Well, you just have to be patient, won't you?" soft, seductive voice.
Before I could respond, she knelt down on my lap and stuffed her damp underwear into my mouth. Her fresh pussy fluid had an earthy flavor that swirled on my tongue, intensifying our connection.
"Do you like that? I can see that you do. You may lick your mother's pussy for an extended period of time if you behave well and remain seated on your hands until I instruct you otherwise.
I subsequently emitted a pitiful groan, at which point she descended from my lap and returned sensuously to her large chair.
"Mmm, I'm going to see what else I can find to read," she added after picking up her iPad. The most recent article in the Incest/Taboo section was really riveting. The temperature was excruciating. In it, a mother entices her son by teasing and bullying him, until she locks him in his bedroom and sucks on his cock as her inebriated husband slumbers in the adjacent room. The author's description of the son's slender member gently moving inside his mother was incredibly sensual, so she let him fuck her. The horror! Just thinking about it aroused me again. Thank you for directing me to this website. Oh, my! This one has "mother-son incest" and "domination" as tags. You're lucky; by the time I finish this, I'll have to rape my son.
She read in comfort, massaging her nipples while she did so. I watched my mother's expression of sensual satisfaction as the narrative unfolded for the next thirty-five minutes, my cock remaining painfully erect the whole time. She was completely at ease while she was abusing me, and she took pleasure in it. On occasion, she would peek over her reading glasses to see me; when she did, she appeared to smile cruelly at the sight of me, still submissively seated on my hands, her black lace slacks protruding from my mouth.
I was completely engrossed in her regimented motherly routine, willing to comply with every whim; it was the epitome of delicious agony. Nevertheless, I yearned for the freedom to release my grip and take her jeans off my lips. It was clear to me that the narrative had a strong sexual effect on her. As she rubbed her stocking-clad thighs together, poked her big, hard nipples against her blouse, and pressed her fingers into her mound through the stiff material of her skirt, she was clearly enjoying herself. As she concluded the narrative and closed her iPad once again, she paused to take a big breath. She got up from the chair slowly, as if an orgasmic surge was about to burst out of her; her words had an air of desperation.
"Unbutton your fly, pull your jeans down to your knees, and lie on your back."
Just like she said, I followed her instructions.
"Ummm, you've gone commando; was that for my benefit?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Great. I really appreciate how you've made yourself so accessible to me," she remarked, slipping out of her snug skirt.
"You do know that I own your cock, don't you?"... "Then what?"
"Yes, Mother."
"It doesn't belong to you now; it belongs to me, and I decide what you do with it."
I stood proudly above her, her pink labia glistening with pussy juice, while she stood over me in her stockings, suspenders, and heels, her bra and top now undone. She gazed at my cock and spoke a single word.
What a marvel!"
A mother's smooth, warm cunt gradually engulfed her son's rock-hard penis, and he shivered with anticipation as she lifted my T-shirt over his chest, swung her right leg over his prone body, and straddled him on the large leather settee.
To be honest, I'm impressed by how well you performed tonight. It's the largest and hardest one I've ever seen; you really know how to honor your mom.
"Thank you, Mother."
The sensation was intense as my mother slid onto me, her son's rigid manhood stretching across her taut vagina. She gasped as she lowered herself onto me, her lovely breasts swaying together until they pressed against my chest. She stood on her elbows and knees to support herself.
While the object in my mother's cunt was still lodged, I extended my hand and delicately stroked her buttocks while encircling her waist with my arms. To my astonishment, she yelled out, "No!" and shoved my arms under my chest, causing me to lie on top of her.
"Don't try to move."
She gave me a vigorous fuck; her firm buttocks rose and fell rapidly as she thrust her pelvis, which kept my cock prisoner inside her hot, wet cunt. Her head rested on my neck and shoulder as she pounded me hard and fast. Her gym-honed body was light and strong; she pulled my arms from underneath me and pinned them on either side of my head. I'd hardly lasted a minute before I was shooting strands of incestuousness into her all-conquering vagina; she groaned loudly and thrust at my still-hard cock until she had milked it dry, and then she came in long, loud bursts; her pelvis juddered and spasmed, and she gripped my wrists so tight that my fingers started to feel numb. Her orgasm had been magnificent and powerful; she still lay over me, her hair sticking to her sweating face. She looked
"How much fun was it for my son to have his mother rape him until he forgot him?"
Wow, you were so assertive. What gave you that energy?"
In the most recent story I read, a mother took her son from her and bound his wrists behind his back after discovering him fucking his sister. She proceeded to bind her daughter and rape her son vigorously while she observed. "When she'd finished with him, she masturbated with her daughter, while her son watched."
"Wow, do I sense an opening for a little mild bondage?"
I'd love to bind you to the bed and fuck you until you scream for mercy. You might, but I must admit that the idea did cross my mind. But not today, my love; I am just getting into bed, so before you make sensual, gentle love to your mother, please secure the door and turn off the lights.
"It will be my pleasure."
"And mine."
"Have you ever erred in such a way with my father?"
"God no, he would have seen it as a threat to his masculinity."
When you were with him, how was sex?"
"Vanilla, there's nothing remarkable about you."That's why it feels so natural for you: you're daring in the bedroom; you're a hot, attractive man; and you're a good two inches taller and wider than average. Any mother would be remiss if she didn't take advantage of a son like you."
Please, please, please.
My mother was up and ready for her early start the next morning. Just before she left, she brought me a cup of tea and reminded me of our plans for our date that night. Her beauty was so captivating that I regretted that she had to leave before we could have a quick morning fuck.
"Yes, I thought you'd be disappointed; you were such a good, obedient boy last night that I ought to give you a little treat before I go."
When she removed the comforter, I was naked, save for my morning erection.
"I am flattered; it appears that all that remains is to pull the trigger," she said as she deftly masturbated my genitalia with her thumb and fingers, and I was soon firing strands of food into my stomach.
"Young man, make sure you're not tardy to work," she remarked while using a tissue to clean her fingers.
She kissed my forehead as she leaned over me, but before she left the bedroom, she sucked on her fingers. She had just provided me with an orgasmic sensation that roused me to the point where I engaged in masturbation in the shower as an excuse to delay my arrival at work. As she wanked me off, I relived the sight of her blurred hand.
We showered and got dressed that night for our date, where we would pretend to be a couple and enjoy the sexual deceit. We had picked a restaurant about thirty minutes away in another town. It was a mistake to risk people not noticing that we were lovers.
I watched my mother put on her sexy black lingerie and a new, figure-hugging, fuschia-pink minidress. She wore seamed, barely-black stockings, as well as her filigree-heeled stilettos. The sleeves were long, and the hem was high—at least six inches above her knees. Her stockings were long hold-ups with a lace welt that was just visible when she sat down. I have to say I was mesmerized watching her get ready. I'd momentarily forgotten our agreement that I would wear the unwashed pants that she'd been wearing for the last three days; indeed, they'd even been in my mouth the previous evening. I was in a crisp, formal white shirt, and I was about to put on a black suit.
As she rose from her dressing table, she reached over and took the trousers, which were black lace and silk, off a chair where she had placed them before removing them. With one finger, she dangled them in front of my nose.
"You mischievous boy, you still haven't gotten around to these, have you?"
A combination of the aromas of new pussy juice and old, musty vintage wafted over me.
"Put them on immediately," she ordered.
My lack of underwear was immediately apparent to her.
"It's just as well for you, my boy; I'd have had to punish you if you'd forgotten our agreement."
She gave me the green light, so I put on the pants. The lace thong caught in the gap between my buttocks, wrapping around my hips. A V-shaped lace panel in the foreclosed area barely concealed my despondent yet hopeful cock, but I knew it would not remain contained once stimulated.
"I'm going to make you come in there later on."
I repositioned myself so that the lace material held my member in place at an angle, pointing towards my left hip. It was quite an ordeal to observe my mother's dress ride up her thighs while driving the car without experiencing a corresponding engorgement. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, my member had detached from the v-shaped panel and was nearly completely engorged.
Five days before Christmas, the restaurant was full. My mom followed the waitress to our table, and I was so proud of her. In the eyes of other customers, she was my girlfriend—or maybe even my wife. She looked stunning, with a sleek, fashionable dark-brown bob, a toned body, and attractive legs that caught the eye of a couple of men at nearby tables. I liked to think that the other men and women were staring at me and thinking, "Lucky bastard."

"My pussycat tingles at the thought of what you're wearing under your trousers."
"It's the most erotic thing I've ever done; I feel as though I'm going to burst out of your pants at any moment."
"I'll trade my pussy-stained pants for your come-stained trousers."
"Is that your plan, Mother, to make me empty my balls into my trousers before we leave the restaurant?"If so, it's working."
"What better way for my boyfriend to show how much he loves and desires me?"
While we awaited the arrival of our beverages and the first meal, my mother's tone abruptly transformed. The stare she shot me startled me out of my slumber. She tensed her jaw and neck, and her voice took on a new quality. Her explicit words made it clear to me that she intended to depose me.
"Listen to me carefully, Callin; you've awakened in me a desire to dominate; you must have noticed."
"Your performance last night left me in no doubt as to which of us is in charge, and it's not me."
"Good. This is what I will expect from you in the future: In the future, as your mother, I expect obedience and respect at all times. I'll let you have sex with your sister and Marline, but I'll only permit you to have sex with other women if I explicitly give my permission, which is unlikely. When we're out on a date, you must obey me at all times. Sometimes I will take control; sometimes, when I feel like it, I will be submissive and give control to you."
I reached up and touched her upper thigh, and the sheer fabric of her dress allowed me to make out the lace design on her stocking top. I was wrong.
I'm in charge tonight; you can't touch me unless I say so. "Take your hand away, or I'll tell the waitress that you've molested me, and I'll ask her to call the police."
She teased with an intensely sensual intensity. I was able to release my mother's pants and feel the entire length of my cock's shaft. When my balls were strained, both the crusty gusset and the v-shaped waistband scraped into their bases. She sensed my arousal and discomfort, so she reached beneath the table, squeezed my balls, and ran her long, red-painted fingernails along my erection to prove her point. She glanced at me with a mischievous grin, knowing that I was horrified, and I narrowly avoided shooting myself in the leg.
Throughout the remainder of our lunch, she relentlessly mocked and irritated me. I became her puppet, representing the submissive son she had always dreamed of. I requested the bill when we finished eating, and she used the restroom as I waited. To celebrate her newfound sexual supremacy over her son, she went to touch up her makeup. Despite her gratitude for my submission and anticipation of its use, she insisted on spending the remainder of the evening with her friends.
Taking charge and making use of her was a concept I liked. Role-playing dominance and submission elevated our already amazing sex life to new heights. Although we were both aware that it was all an illusion, we enthusiastically performed our roles.
A beautiful, well-dressed woman in her sixties went into the restroom. They washed their hands together, smiling and nodding to welcome each other, and then the woman spoke. She established polite eye contact in the mirror.
"I hope you don't mind me asking if the handsome young man you're with is your son." "A child?"
My mom was completely taken aback by the question; she hadn't seen it coming. Her lips said no, but her flushed cheeks conveyed a different message.
"No, that's not right. "It's my boyfriend, who is actually a little younger than me, but..." "Actually, my boyfriend is a little younger than me, but..."
"If you say so, my dear."
Their conversation froze for an instant. My mom denied everything, but it was clear she was mortified that someone had found her.
Listen, I don't really care, but I do have some insight into these things. My kid and I have had sexual relations on and off for the last quarter of a century.
For once, my mom was at a loss for words, and her mouth hung wide in a bewildering fashion.
"At the time, we were deeply in love, but then he decided he had to stop cheating on his mother and get serious about finding a good girl. It was devastating, but now I understand why he came to that decision. He's forty-eight now, and I'm nearly seventy. It's been the most worrisome."
"His wife is a lovely woman, but it soon turned out that she couldn't keep him satisfied, you know, in bed. He told me that she'd decided that she no longer liked penetration, and their lovemaking had ceased altogether. I took pity on him and invited him back into my bed."
I was fortunate to have my son fuck me every night, with her consent, because not only was he insatiable, but so were we both. He even moved me in with him and his wife. I was in my mid-fifties. His wife and son bestowed their blessing on him. He used to fall asleep in bed with his wife after he finished gratifying me. Things have calmed down a bit in that area recently, although "I still like to feel him inside me."
"My God."
Yes, I will, in fact, have that opportunity later on tonight. I repeat tonight.
"What about his wife?????? "When did she find out?"
"Oh, she finally got it; she shocked us both by accepting it without a word of complaint." She noticed that when he's in my bed, he's not cheating on me with anyone else. going from one person to another. She made the decision to move in with them, and she says it was the best thing that could have happened because it relieved her stress.
"You've astounded me, giving me hope for the future.."
There's nothing more sexually charged than a mother's desire for her child. So savor him while you can, my darling; he's very dishy.
Another customer went inside the restroom as soon as the door swung open. entered the restroom. My mom filled me in on her chat with the sophisticated elderly lady when she got back to the table.
"Don't make it obvious that you're looking, but do you see that smartly dressed older lady just leaving with the couple in their forties?"
"Yes."
"I've just had the most amazing chat with her in the ladies."
"What about?"
"Let's just say that she recognized a kindred spirit."
"What do you mean?"
"She inquired about you; I replied that you were my boyfriend, but she'd seen through us." "The couple she's with is her son and his wife; she's been her son's girlfriend for twenty-five years, with his wife's approval most of that time."
"What the hey!"
"Yes indeed; I couldn't have put it better myself."
As we departed from the restaurant, we paid the bill and strolled across the brightly illuminated parking lot. She kept staring around, and I questioned her every step of the way. "You'll see," she stated again.
With a firm squeeze on my buttocks, she motioned for me to enter the car through the passenger side and then sauntered sensually around its front end, revealing an ample supply of stocking tops. She was clearly an expert at what she was doing, and my cock began to swell.
We were willing to take a chance because the automobile was facing the main entrance and a camera was looking straight at her car. The prospect of visibility thrilled us both.
"I desire to witness you donning my undergarments."
"What, here?"
"Yes here. I'm your mother; do as I say."
I began to release the buckle on my belt.
"Hurry up; pull your pants down to your knees." Without hesitation. Now, pull your pants halfway down your legs.
As I rose from my seat in accordance with her instructions, she observed my swollen cock as it began to escape my mother's thong.
"Get your penis out; I want to see whether you're showing me proper respect."
As I forced my nearly fully erect cock from the v-shaped lace panel, she observed me while gazing at her toned legs encased in stockings and her swollen labia snug within her damp panty gusset. In an instant, her words had me utterly gorged and rocking hard.
"Do you intend to fuck your mom?" "Mamamamamama?"
As she grasped my member, I squealed in shock. So that I could fuck her while still wearing her pants, she informed me that we were heading home. She remains dressed in pants.
"Was my pants comfortable to wear?"
Mother, I agree. I am really enjoying it.
"Very well. Once we finish with them tonight, I'll give them to you. "You are free to do with them what you want; they will be your pants." You'll likely find it difficult to control the need to periodically release all of your pent-up energy into them. them periodically. I will now insist that you do it.
She delicately grasped my erection with her thumb and fingers, bending it forward until its tip lay just above the gusset that stretched between my legs. Her thumb rested on top, just below the glans, while her supple fingers held it underneath. I was incredibly aroused by her legs, her carefree attitude, and the thought that someone leaving the restaurant might catch her masturbating me, so she started slowly. I felt my balls tighten, and semen prepared along my shaft. Her deft hand hovered over the panty gusset, directing the tip of my penis in that direction. Her deft hand moved in a blur.
In a state of pure bliss, I watched as she coerced me into releasing my load into the gusset, a velvety black cloth that curled my toes and pooled my semen.
"Good boy, now pull your pants up, and you'd better be hard again when we get home."
I had never felt so alive and pleased as I sat during the half-hour drive with my feet covering my scrotum and oozing down along my perineum.
"Is it cozy?"
Thank you, Mother. "Yes," "Yes," "Yes," "Yes."
"If you please, when we get home, I'll lick your balls clean."
I was hardened again after hearing her remarks. With her extended arm, she took hold of my shaft.
"Who's property is this?"
"Yours Mother."
"Quite right, and don't you ever forget it."
She parked the car in the quiet driveway and flipped the switch off as soon as we arrived home. She intervened just as I was going to open my door and unzip my fly. In order to cup my balls with her warm palm, she dipped her hand past my stiff penis. She dipped her fingers in her remaining bodily fluid, parted her legs, and slipped them inside her vagina, all because the feeling was so electrifying. within her genitalia. Outside our house, in the dark, she masturbated herself while sitting in the driver's seat. She let out a series of pleasurable sounds, and I sat transfixed, utterly absorbed in her every move.
She abruptly stopped, knelt down to me, and forcibly placed her fingers drenched in pus into my mouth, as if she were on her way. I absolutely loved the flavor. She climbed out of the driver's seat, swung around to sit in the passenger seat, opened the door, and instructed me to exit while I licked her fingers clean.
"Open the front door, secure the car, and enter the dining room. I have a particular mission for you to complete."
I followed her instructions and went into the dining room, only to find her hunched over the table, her minidress pulled up over her buttocks. She had already removed her pants, and I was already uneasy with her beautiful legs, high heels, and stockings; the stockings made me madder.
I desire for my adult son to squander me while holding his enormous, magnificent cock. "Do it now; fuck me; fuck your mama," my mother said. "I want my son to fuck me hard."
I was inside of her in an instant; I didn't require any further encouragement. She was ravenous; I had to return three times before I could collect enough semen from her son to fill my mother's cup. My sperm trickled down her thighs and into her stocking tops. sock shirts. She had returned twice at that point.
Carry me upstairs to bed and devour your mummy's pussy as she sucks her son's enormous hard cock. "Oh my god, if I'd known you could fuck like this, I would have had you on your 18th birthday, you sexy man."
I was about to take off my jacket when she yanked me away by the lapels. We spent about fifteen minutes having oral sex while still fully clothed. Eventually, she let me take off my clothes, but she insisted that I wear her pants. She looked at me lovingly as we ascended the stairs. After I set her down on the bed, I went to remove my jacket.
"Callin, be a good boy and undress your mama." Then I want to put your big cock in my mouth again." I hope you're looking forward to tomorrow night as much as I am. It will be fun to watch you f*ck with your sister. You fuck your sister. I know she's excited to feel that monster's intimate squeeze. "Mummy will make you come one more time."After that, I will read you a bedtime story about a mother who becomes the owner of her son's cock."
After indulging in one more orgasmic session, we went to sleep. As we fucked atop the restaurant table, the other guests' expressions ranged from indignation to pleasure, encouraged by the well-dressed woman, her son, and his wife.
Please, please, please.
On Thursday morning, we were both on the verge of being tardy to work by the time we had rousted ourselves for another incestuous fuck, gotten a cup of tea, and eaten a piece of toast. After spending thirty-six hours recuperating from the exhausting twelve-hour train journey from her mother's house in Watfor, Lydia had returned home.
"Remind Lydia that I'll be picking her up from the station this afternoon," my mom hurriedly remarked as she slipped out of the front door in her velvet-collared, knee-length grey coat, black stockings, and high heels. cloak adorned with a velvet stand.
She sacrificed her customary grace and elegance for a quick canter to her car, looking just as beautiful as before. Her shoes click-clacking across the driveway made me wonder what was under her form-fitting pinstriped skirt. The mental image of her dark bush and trembling labia, accompanied by stocking tops, suspender straps, and black lace leggings, lingered in my mind as I drove myself to work.
It would be an understatement to claim that I wasn't thinking about my work. While daydreaming about fucking my sister tonight and reliving the evening with my mom, I spent the day trying to get my cock to stay put.
I knew they were inside the house together since my mother's car was in the driveway when I arrived home. My cock jerked as I fantasized about them in bed together, wondering if they'd had sex on the way back from the train station. It turned out that a very aroused and oversexed imagination was responsible for everything. They were chatting over tea in the kitchen.
Lydia dropped her cup and nearly sprang into my arms the second she laid eyes on me. I felt a mix of sisterly and sexual warmth as she embraced me for what seemed like an eternity. We shared an intimate moment as her lovely body encircled me, her lips caressed my neck, and her pussycat cat pressed against my reawakened cock. I remembered the same intense, incestuous sexiness and boundless familial love that I'd been experiencing with my mother for the last few months.
My mother was already pouring me tea as I released our grip on each other, grinning knowingly at the bulge in my penis that was dragging my pants down. My thoughts were racing, and I was in the company of two of the three most alluring women I would ever desire. Marline's turn would arrive twenty-four hours later.
Lydia rocked a little pink miniskirt, a fluffy cream sweater, opaque cream thigh-high stockings, white sneakers, and a sultry expression. Her luscious blonde locks cascaded over her attractive bust, and the intensity of her azure gaze had me utterly enchanted. In a semi-translucent white shirt, high heels, a skimpy skirt, and an uncomfortable angle, I peered over at my pleasantly hot mother. The intensity of their sexual connection was too much for me to handle, so she stepped in to help.
"Callin, darling, open a bottle of wine and pour us all a drink while I sort out the macaroni cheese."Did you manage to pick up a baguette for garlic bread? "garlic bread?"
"Yes, in my excitement, I left it in the car; I'll just go and get it."
"If it's okay with you, Lydia, we'll eat in about an hour."
"Yes, that's fine."
Although I think you look very charming in your present clothes, I think Callin would prefer that we dress properly for tonight's date instead. Is that okay with you? I would love to go on our date with you tomorrow night in that."I'm guessing we're about the same dress size, so if you need to borrow anything of mine, you'd be most welcome. Request that Callin show you the drawers containing my lingerie when he leads you to your room; the mere thought of you wearing my undergarments brings a smile to my face, just as it does for me. "am."
"He is fortunate to have a mother like you, who is not only beautiful but also seductive and receptive to new ideas; I cannot wait to learn more about you." "You do know that he respects the ground you walk on."
"I love him dearly, mostly in ways I shouldn't, but I can't resist him.""I just love having my son's cock inside me; it makes me feel complete."
Please don't take offense, but your mother informed me that you're fantastic in the bedroom."
"Absolutely not! I'm overjoyed to hear that! She's an incredibly alluring woman who has provided me with unparalleled pleasure." May I inquire as to whether you find your mother appealing or desirable? When I informed her about Callin and my relationship, she appeared to be aware of your explicit video chats, but she grew visibly embarrassed and uneasy when I inquired about her desire to fuck you.
"To be honest, I'm a bit anxious about the prospect, too." "She's terrified of the idea; she's worried about what it will mean if she allows her daughter to seduce her." "It'sself. "It's not like me and Callin; we never had the chance for societal norms to establish themselves before we met; we immediately began lusting after each other."
"Well, I must admit that as Callin matured into a young man, I made a concerted effort to control my passionate fantasies about him. When that didn't work, I resorted to keeping them to myself, or at least between myself and my vibrator. However, following his father's death, I began to feel an increasing sexual desire on his part for me. I knew I should end it, but I had already committed to sleeping with your mother, and everything seemed possible."
"The thrill of meeting my deceased father's other wife and then my son as a lover was overwhelming," he said. It was enticing to think that Callin could outdo his father in terms of fucking your mother, and I was curious to see how much better he was.
Controlling him gave me a rush, which is why I enjoyed inducing erections and taunting him. ng. I had a strange sense of vengeance on Jim—to seduce and rape his other wife—and then to be fucked by his better-endowed son. As we hugged in an inappropriate manner, I could see he was enormous and hard, much taller than his father.
"Wow, I wish we could talk more about this psychology." Please accept my utmost apologies if I gave the impression that incest is only acceptable when the partners are adults. You know what? Lately, I've been fantasizing about fucking my mom more and more.
I should ask, "Have you been with a woman before?" You've reminded me, though. I should save it for tomorrow night, when you'll have my full attention and be able to tell me how much you want her. "Have you been with a woman before?"
"Don't worry, I've practised; you won't be the first lady to be my girlfriend; I've had a few flings throughout my time at university."
"Mmm, you're an interesting young woman; you must tell me all about your flings tomorrow night, too.".
When I returned, I gave Lydia a unique gift along with the baguette. Lydia was masturbating over the idea of fucking her mother. I didn't eavesdrop because I could tell my mom and sister were having a private conversation.
"Oh, Cal, there you are. "Be a darling and show Lydia up to your old room." previous space. Please show her my closet and the drawers holding my undergarments; I've already told her she's free to wear anything I own tonight.

"No need to worry about clothes; Lydia may remember that she asked for a very specific present for Christmas."

"You haven't, have you?"

"Here, I know it's not Christmas yet, but you can open it now."

Lydia tore open the flimsy Christmas paper that I'd used to wrap the present badly. Her face lit up when she held up the strapless red velvet Mrs. Claus mini dress with its white 'fur' trim.

"I didn't manage to get any underwear, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry, Lydia; I'll go and get my highest black stilettos, stockings, and suspender set for you to wear." I'd quite like to see you in red lingerie and black stockings. What do you think?"

"Perfect Renata."

Throughout dinner, Lydia was the target of lustful looks from both me and my mother. My mother whispered to me as we loaded the dishwasher, saying that she had no idea she could be so completely turned on by a woman. She found Lydia utterly alluring in her Mrs. Claus outfit, and she promised to let me take possession of her red pants once Lydia's pussycat cat had left its mark on them.s mark on them.

Lydia told my mother that she looked foxy, and she did;; she'd opted for a smart, tailored, grey pencil-cut dress with silver accessories and jewelrI wore a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and no underwear. o underwear. That was something that became apparent to my mother and my sister when we adjourned to the bedroom. Lydia took pleasure in stripping my clothes off and lying me downMy cock tingled with excitement as it awaited the first touch of my sister's hand.y first time.

"Help me out of this dress, darling," my mother said to Lydia.

The sight of my sister in her tight Mrs. Claus dress and heels, standing behind my elegantly dressed mother and unzipping her, almost ruined the chances of keeping me inside my balls for the time being. In order to allow my mother to wiggle the dress over her hips and exit it, Lydia knelt on one knee. Lydia's face was level with my mother's shapely backside. She leaned forward slightly and kissed her left buttock, leaving a perfect lipstick impression of her mouth on the silky flesh.

My mother turned to face her, and Lydia kissed the panty-covered cleft between her plump labia. I heard my mother murmur to her, "Later, darling," as she helped her back to her feet. Then she stroked Lydia's hair and grazed her thumb over her lips. It was good to see the relaxed, easy sexual rapport between them.

"Callin, darling, please pass me my silk robe."

As she removed her bra, I held the robe open for my mother; she put it on and draped herself over the bedroom chair, with one leg over an arm so that she could easily access her pussycat. She was still wearing her stockings, suspenders, and heels, and she looked gorgeous in the Chinese silk robe with her hard nipples pushing at the thin material.

After I had helped my mother with her robe, my sister moved behind me, and as I turned toward her, my erect cock swung to greet her. She caught it deftly in her right hand and pulled me into a kiss. The sensation of my sister's warm hand grasping my cock for the first time was scintillating. As we shared a passionate kiss, she slowly squeezed and masturbated it; I felt weak in the knees.

"My God, Cal, I thought it looked impressive on my laptop screen, but seeing it like this and holding it, well, I must have died and gone to heaven."Get on the bed and lean back against the headboard. I'm going to show you what I've been dying to do to my 'big' brother."

I got onto the bed and propped myself up on a couple of pillows. Lydia moved towards the end of the bed so that she was almost in front of my mother. She took off her red pants, or, should I say, my mother's, and crept onto the bed in a feline prowl. As she approached me, I could see the same view that my mother had in the full-length, wardrobe-door mirror, the same view that my mother had.

The white trim of Lydia's Christmas outfit, her black stocking tops, and her red suspender straps framed her buttocks and perfect pink labia. How my mother stopped herself from forcing her tongue between her buttocks, I'll never know.

When my sister arrived, she pulled my knees apart, lowered her head, levered my erection into position, and filled her mouth with my cock. I looked down at her bobbing blonde hair, and then I saw the expression on my mother's face. Her lips parted, her eyes fixed on my sister's pussycat, and she licked them lasciviously.

With her left hand, my sister grasped the base of my cock; with her right hand, she tormented my perineum and tickled my balls. Her mouth and tongue lubricated my penis, which slid with devastating effect up and down its shaft. I endured orgasmic raptures for nearly three minutes before the sight of my younger sister sucking my cock.

I shot two strands into the back of her throat before she quickly released my cock and allowed the next two strands to hit her full in the face. Then, with great agility, she turned herself onto her back, lay just underneath the tip of my penis, and squeezed the shaft as it oozed the rest of my blood onto her lips.

After milking me dry with her hand, she reoriented herself, grasped the back of my knees, and dragged me onto my back in a flat position prior to lavishing me with a passionate kiss. Covered in my viscous fluid, our lips slipped and slid together as we explored each other's mouths with our tongues.

When she eventually let me up, I could see my mother sitting back in the chair and masturbating vigorously. Lydia got off the bed and knelt over my mother; she kissed her passionately, and as they broke the kiss, a strand of saliva mixed with my semen looped between my mother's mouth and my sister's cheek.

"Later, honey, come to me later. He stays hard for ages; pleasure yourself on him now; proceed; he wants you to fuck him."

Lydia squeezed my mother's pussycat, and then she turned her attention back to me. I was still on my back. My sister crawled on top of me and slid her saturated cunt over my still-hard penis. She started to fuck me rhythmically, her pelvis gyrating slowly with deep, supple movements. As she did so, she propped herself up on her arms.

The sight of my sister's breasts swaying as she pleasured herself on my erection made me even harder. Her long blonde hair fell over her face, and her eyes glazed over. She was in ecstasy, and her gyrations increased in intensity. As she thrust herself rapidly into me, she massaged her clitoris with the fingers of her right hand and experienced an orgasmic fit that culminated in spectacular waves; she then began to express her delight. Another voice joined in the cacophony of noises; my mother had also reached orgasm.

I'd never heard such sweet, feminine moans and sighs. Their orgasmic exchanges seemed to last for an eternity; they fed off one another. It was that experience that pushed me over the edge, and although I did not produce sperm this time, the pleasure was intense.

When my mother left the bedroom, I guessed that she'd gone to my old room so that my sister and I could concentrate on fucking each other, which was exactly what happened. For several hours, my little sister and I enjoyed each other until we had nothing left to give. I don't know how long I'd slept, but at some point in the early hours, I awoke to soft murmurs and the unmistakable, soft sucking sound of fingers inside wet vaginas. At first, I thought that my sister was masturbating herself, but then I heard my mother breathe her name in a low, seductive tone.

In order to prevent any disruption to their moment, I maintained an immaculate stillness as they discreetly engaged in finger-planning and kissing, with the intention of stifling any potential orgasmic responses. It was a beautiful experience to hear them make such tender love to each other and do their best not to wake me up. I drifted off to sleep again and didn't wake up until I was already late for work. My beautiful sister still slept next to me, so I got out of bed and walked silently to my old bedroom to find my mother also still asleep.

She had taken a day off work to look after our visitor. They planned to go out together in the evening while I was on my date with Marline; I wondered if they would manage to get out of bed with each other. My day at work passed in a daze; I felt as though I was in a wonderful dream.

********************

I loved my mother, especially in the ways that a son should never love his mother. At this moment, my emotions towards my sister were raging; we had spent a remarkable evening in bed together, forging a profound bond while engaging in immoral acts of affection for one another. It occurred to me that I would probably be making love to my mother and my sister for many years to come. It was as though I loved them both twice over: once as any son or brother would love any mother or sister, and once in an intensely erotic, incestuous way that felt so normal.

Sure enough, when I got home, my mother's and my sister's faces were flushed with fornication. They looked as though they had just gotten out of bed. They insisted that they still intended to go out with each other; they'd decided on a pub meal and the cinema. After I'd changed and gotten ready for my date with Marline, Lydia came into the kitchen while I was filling a glass with water. She looked adorable in the miniskirt and white over-the-knee socks and trainers that she'd worn when I first saw her the previous evening. I took several gulps of water, and as I turned to tip the rest into the sink, I heard her greet my mother as she came into the kitchen.

"Renata, you look amazing."

"Thank you, Lydia. It's a while since I've worn jeans this tight; do you think they go with the heels? I don't have a pair of white trainers."

"God, yes, you look so gorgeous, milf; I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my hands off you."

"That's the general idea, honey."

My mother's pale pink, angora wool, tight-fitting jumper, and skin-tight jeans with stilettos were a look I'd not seen her in before, but she looked stunning. They'd both had a couple of glasses of wine already, and they set off for the bus in their long padded coats, giggling like naughty schoolgirls. It was almost freezing outside, but they looked well-insulated against the cold. I set off on the one-hour-long drive to Marline's house, wondering what she would have in store for me. I thought of the first time I laid eyes on her at the front door, just over three months ago, when she was looking for my father's other wife. She was agitated at the time, but she looked so hot, and I wanted to fuck her; tonight I would get my wish.

As I neared my destination, my mother and sister were on their second large glass of wine in a town center pub. My mother normally only frequented the pub as a formally dressed, tight-skirted woman at lunchtime or early evenings. A female bartender, in her late thirties, with close-cropped hair, piercings, and a sleeve of tattoos on her arm, kept giving my mother the eye.

"I think you've pulled there, Renata," said Lydia with a chuckle.

"I've already got a date, remember? "Come on, drink up; the film starts in fifteen minutes."

"Is it far to walk?"I'm just thinking about your heels."

"No, it's a small independent arts center just around the corner."

"Oh good, is it somewhere that we can get cozy?"

"I hope it won't be too full; you never know at Christmas."

"Well, after consuming so much wine, I'm beginning to feel quite uninhibited; beware, I'll be attempting to groin your underwear at every opportunity."

"What makes you think I'll try to stop you?"

"Mmm, I love having sex in public."

"Good, you can show me the ropes; I've never had the privilege."

"Oh wow! Really? Well, you've set me a challenge that I can't ignore."

"Be gentle with me, Lydia."

In the sparsely populated auditorium, in the dark, Lydia took hold of my mother's hand and pushed it up underneath the hem of her miniskirt; she wasn't wearing pants.

"Oh my God, Lydia, you filthy little minx. Oh, you're so wet."

Lydia's warm, viscous pussy juice coated my mother's fingers; she effortlessly inserted them into her vagina and, by stimulating her clitoral region with her thumb, induced an instantaneous, suppressed orgasmic response. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Lydia straightened her miniskirt.

"Did you enjoy that, Lydia, honey?"

"Very much so, Renata. Now that it's your turn, I've come prepared for your tight jeans.""Go to the ladies, remove your pants, slip this into your hot little hole, and then give your pants to me when you come back."

She placed the business end of a discreet remote control vibrator in my mother's hands.

"My goodness, you're full of surprises, darling. I'll be back in a moment."

As soon as she had sat back down in her seat and handed over her pants, my sister gave my mother a powerful blast of vibrations that sent erotic shockwaves through her pussycat.

"Oh fuck, Lydia! "Fuck," I said. "Be gentle with me."

"Sorry, Renata, I couldn't resist. I want you to order an Uber now; we're going clubbing."

Throughout the short taxi journey, with my mother's pants in her coat pocket, my sister teased my mother's pussy with fluctuating levels of vibration that had her squeezing Lydia's hand with a look of surrender in her eyes. On the dance floor, my sister held my mother close and gave her a vibrator-induced orgasm to the throbbing music. My mother could barely stand, so my sister guided her to a quiet alcove, where they kissed passionately. My sister unzipped my mother's tight jeans and made her come again with four fingers and a thrumming vibrator up inside her wet cunt.

They danced together again, and by now they had become quite tipsy on the shots and beer that they'd been putting away at the club, following the wine they'd been drinking earlier.

"Renata, arrange for an Uber to transport us back to our residence; I have a recurrent desire to f*ck you with the strap-on once more."

"Not if I fuck you first."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Most definitely."

My sister held up the remote and said, "Don't forget who is in charge of this; I'm just going to the restroom."

My mother noticed that her sister had turned up the power on the device inside her vagina while she waited for her return. She felt highly aroused as she looked around at the rest of the nightclub's clientele. Several women caught her eye, including the bartender from earlier in the evening. The woman looked at her and approached her.

The woman had changed her outfit from denim and leather to a tight-fitting, knee-length blue dress with flat black ankle boots. She was sturdy-built but had shapely proportions. With her strong thighs, well-formed buttocks, large breasts, and small waist, she looked an enticing mix of soft butch and femme. My mother, already aroused by the remote sex toy and uninhibited by the alcohol, felt a sudden pulse of arousal for the woman.

"Hi, didn't I see you in the pub earlier?"

"Yes, you've changed your outfit."

"I thought I'd need to up my game to have any chance with a classy woman like you. Where's your beautiful friend?"

My mother's arousal increased as she realized she was being hit on.

"Flattery will get you everywhere; she's probably queuing for the toilet at the moment."

"Would you like a drink?"

"Thanks, but no, we're just about to go home, and I've had far too much already."

"You aren't going to leave without a goodbye kiss, are you?"

"What? Well, I..."

The woman maneuvered my mother behind a wide beam, just at the entrance to the dark alcove, pressed her against it, and kissed her. At first, she was shocked, but she soon gathered herself and let the woman's sensual lips and the fire in her vagina take over. With fervor, she reciprocated the woman's kiss, inserting her tongue into her mouth and placing her right hand on one of her robust buttocks while pressing her pussy against a strong thigh.

"Mmm, you're bolder than you look; I'd love to fuck you. Will you come home with me?"

"I'd love you to fuck me, but I'm with my girlfriend tonight."

"Are you sure?" said the woman as she ran her strong fingers between my mother's legs and pressed them against her pussycat.

My mother almost fainted with desire for her, but thought about Lydia. She tried to push her arm away, but she couldn't, and the woman took possession of her mouth again.

My mother was worried that the woman would realize that she'd got a remote sex toy in her vagina, but the alcohol and the vibrations left her powerless to resist. The woman backed her further into the dark alcove, unzipped her jeans, pushed her strong fingers inside her fly, and tangled them in her bush.

"Mmmm, naughty lady, no knickers; I could get to like you very much."

My mother was kissing her wildly now; she surrendered her pussycat to the strong fingers that probed and stroked her to a rapid orgasm. She didn't care now if the woman found the device tucked cozily into her cunt. As she savored the aftershocks, still embracing her new conqueror, the woman spoke softly into her ear.

"If I ever get you into bed, you won't need that little toy." I'll give you such a fucking; you won't be able to walk for a week afterwards."

My mother felt slightly scared and out of her depth, which turned her on even more. She trembled as she zipped herself up and looked around for my sister. The woman looked magnificent now, with her rock-hard nipples poking in relief through the material of her dress and her gaze ogling my mother's shapely body.

"Give me your phone."

My mother wondered momentarily if she was being mugged, but the imposing woman merely entered her phone number and kissed her on the cheek as she handed the phone back.

"Bye, gorgeous milf. Ring that number when you want to repay the favor and make my pussycat zing with those beautiful lips of yours."

With that, the woman turned and walked away. My mother was in disbelief over the recent events; as she re-inserted her phone into her handbag, her head was swimming and her pussycat clenched at the thought of reuniting with the woman.

"There you are, Renata. I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?"

"Oh, I've been right here."

"You're shaking; are you okay?"

"Yes, come on, let's go home. I've got something to tell you."

Mmm, that sounds intriguing."

When they got home, my mother and sister put the fire on, poured a brandy, sat naked by the fire, and made love. As they did so, my mother told my sister about her encounter in the nightclub.

"Fuck, Renata! You're joking, aren't you?"

"No, I'm deadly serious; that's just what happened. I don't know how it happened, but it did, and I fucking loved it. "I'm normally attracted to feminine types, such as yourself and your mother. I have no idea what possessed me to feel this way; I hope you're not envious."

"Jealous! Fuck no, we'll be lovers for a long time, but given our interesting family dynamic, I think it would be healthy if we all 'played away from home' occasionally. "Are you going to call her?"

"I don't know. If I do, it will be after Christmas, and I'll have to tell your brother."

"He'll probably find it a massive turn-on and encourage you to meet her again."

"I hope so, but we'll see; maybe after a few days I'll think it over and decide to quit while I'm ahead."

"Well, it's turned me on; fuck me, Renata, take me now on the rug with your strap on."

"I thought you were going to wrestle me for it."

"Another time, maybe. Just fuck me with it now, and then I'll bend you over the table in your stilettos and take you from behind while you imagine that your bartender friend is making you her bitch."

"Oh fuck, Lydia, you've almost made me come."

"Oh! Only, almost, well, we must do something about that."

"Not before I've made you my bitch," joked my mother, as she fitted a large strap-on cock to her pelvis.

********************

My mother described their night out in detail to me the following evening, while we fucked on the settee after work. My sister was right; her encounter with her bartender friend turned me on immensely, and I tried to persuade her to follow it up. But in the meantime, I was eagerly ringing the bell at Marline's front door.

Marline, a beautiful woman with fiery red hair, let me in and didn't wait long in the bitter cold. With a warm grin and sparkling blue eyes, she welcomed me. We exchanged awkwardly polite handshakes before she embraced me in a bear hug, clearly amused by the whole ordeal.
"Come in, Callin, take your coat off. I must say, you look really good. I love the way you dress."
Brown boots with white soles and edging, as well as sophisticated blue trousers, were my choices. A thick dark purple 'Timberland' sweater with a high, button-up collar concealed a clean white vest due to the extreme cold. She led me into the living room, and I removed my bulky three-quarter coat to follow. Even though Marline was still in her pajamas, her makeup was complete, and she looked stunning.
"Would you like a hot drink or something stronger?"
"No thanks, Marline; I'll wait until we hit town."
"Okay, I'll just go and put my clothes on; I won't be long."
I was about to make a joke about how they would be off again soon, but I decided against it.
She really floored me when she returned to the lounge. She looked stunning and vibrant despite her cold-weather attire. really stunning. She had a pencil-cut tweed miniskirt in brown and orange that accentuated her curves to perfection, much like my mom. It clung flawlessly to her contours. Her burnt orange ribbed cowl-neck sweater draped gracefully over her bust. I was crossing my fingers that her thick, opaque, dark-brown hosiery was indeed stockings and not tights. A pair of brown block-heel leather ankle boots complemented her legs well.
Merely stating, "You look nice, Marline," was my output.
She pulled on a little camel-colored top that matched the length of her miniskirt and said, "Thank you. The taxi will be here in a moment." And just like that, she was off and running.
"Do you know where we're headed, or is it a secret?"
"We're heading to London; we're getting a taxi to the station, then we're going in on the tube." going in on the tube."
"Great."
We sat silently in the vehicle, holding hands like young lovers, without exchanging any words. As we transitioned from Baker Street to Piccadilly Circus, the train was jam-packed, and we all eventually poured out onto the street to join the thronging Christmas revelers. We boarded the train at Watford Junction, the northern terminus of the Metropolitan line.
Given that we've just met twice and hardly talked to each other, it's reasonable that we haven't spoken much so far. Although we were complete strangers in actuality, in my imagination, she had been as known to me as my mother and siblings. Indeed, we were complete strangers. Whenever our gazes locked, she offered me a sign that we needed an icebreaker. a way to start a conversation. I sent her a question.
I gently placed my hand on her knee and said, "Tights or stockings."
"Stockings, of course, my darling; hold-ups," she whispered. "Make sure you keep your hands nice and warm." "Make sure you keep your hands nice and warm."
"In these temperatures? I hope you're wearing nice, warm pants. rm pantspantspants."
She said with a smile that it was "for now."
Yep, that worked. As we stepped off the train, she slung her arm over my shoulder and rested her head on my shoulder. Our developing fondness was obvious. were observable. The cacophony and dazzling lights of Christmas greeted us as we ascended the stairs, with the streets teeming with people celebrating their way to and from bars and workplace parties.
We took advantage of our lack of recognition among the revelers by seizing the opportunity to kiss Marline as we were dragged into a nearby building's foyer.
"There. I think we needed to get that over with."
"Yes, I agreed, but I hope you'll do it to me again."
As I leaned in for another kiss and buried my enlarged member into her hip, I said, "You can rely on it."
"And I hope you'll share that with me later. Your mother and my daughter have reliably informed me that it's an impressive sight."
"I'll try not to disappoint madam; I'm sure, should the need arise, that it will show the utmost respect to a beautiful lady like you."
We went to two packed bars. In the first one, Marline set the mood as we waited in line at the bar; she pushed her buttocks into my groin, which reawakened my cock. It was a relief to know that the playful hand that sneakily squeezed my erect shaft while I ordered her drinks actually belonged to her.
After a few drinks and some lewd touching in a corner of the packed bar, we braved the icy streets to another pub, where we ordered food and sat in a small, private booth to watch people. After our meal, I introduced Marline to 'Lagavulin' single malt whisky, and we sat alone in the booth, feeling both warmed and aroused.
While observing her short skirt revealing her stocking-clad thighs, I could not help but fantasize about her undiscovered pussycat. I drooped my pants and angled my erected cock across my abdomen, staring directly at her. The exquisite agony of lusting after her without being able to touch her was excruciating.
Tell me, Marline, how is it that you and my mom are now a couple?"
She informed you, didn't she?"
"There is no detail."
The general public seems to assume that we will despise one another. They were undoubtedly bracing for a drama during the burial, but I believe our mutual support and friendliness surprised everyone. We planned to get a drink and catch up approximately one week following the burial. When your mother arrived in Watford, we had lunch together. She was wearing her business clothing and had just gotten off work, and I thought she looked stunning. quite appealing. She couldn't stop staring at my legs in my short shift dress. I found it odd but chose not to linger on it.
"I've only met you three times now, and you may have noticed that I can't stop looking at your legs either, among other things."
"Indeed, it has crossed my mind, you mischievous man." Meanwhile, Renata confided in me that she had felt insecure about complimenting my appearance when I rang your doorbell. "Don't be ashamed, but she said that your tongue was hanging out; I was astounded that she could discern such a detail amidst her distress."
Was it truly evident that I was deeply infatuated with you?
Just an indulgent smile from Marline.
"So, we extensively discussed you and Lydia, and we were concerned that you could have trouble following the typical norms that govern siblings." We emptied our minds of a great deal of resentment and animosity towards your father after drinking a bottle of wine apiece.
Your mom could never have driven herself home, so I extended an invitation for her to spend the night at my house. Upon arrival, we uncorked an additional bottle of wine, upon which we both broke down in tears and embraced one another on the sofa. Renata's tears streamed down my neck, her lips kissed my earlobe, and my pussycat twitched wildly. The specifics of what happened are slipping my mind. We started kissing each other's faces before we could control ourselves.
“Oh my! I recalled comforting my mother when my father passed away, and I thought, "That's hot." As she lay her head on my shoulder, her warm lips touched an erogenous zone beneath my ear, and I got an enormous erection accidentally.
"We kissed like there was no tomorrow," Marline said. "Then I felt your mom pulling at my dress's zipper, so I suggested we get some sleep." We did, and we stayed in bed until midday the next day. Defiling one another and engaging in a form of postmortem adultery, we both felt as though it had been nearly an act of vengeance on our shared, deceased husband.
"Yes, I get that."
Renata contacted me a few days later, and we arranged to meet up the following week. Despite our provocative attire of stockings, heels, and tight dresses, we joked that it was more of a social gathering than a formal date, causing our fingers to snag on each other's undergarments. We both swore it was an isolated incident and promised it wouldn't happen again.
After listening to Marline describe how she and my mother had lusted after each other, I mustered up the courage to feel her lace stocking top under her skirt in our private recess. Her eyes begged me to go further, so I parted her legs slightly and felt the warm flesh above her stocking top. My little finger slid sideways until it lightly touched her damp panty gusset, which caused her to sigh softly and squeeze my arm.
I asked if she wanted to continue on to a club, but she declined. As we strolled through one of the many central London alleyways, she pulled me into the entrance, and we kissed passionately; we both knew we wouldn't be able to control our passion in the crowded pub. She whispered in my ear that she wanted me to take her home. We set off, taking in the Christmas atmosphere of the city.
After the Christmas rush, the bustle of the nearby street was strangely silent, and we continued onwards until we stood beside the entrance to an accounting firm, the only sound being our own breath, which condensed in the chilly air.
As we shared another intense kiss, I felt her pussycat press into my groin, and she felt my swollen cock through my trousers.
"I want your gorgeous young cock between my legs."
"But it's freezing; I'll get frostbite," I murmured.
She undid my belt and started unbuttoning my fly.
Rest assured that the destination will be warm and pleasant. As she released my arrogant manhood from its restraints, she exclaimed, "Oh my, it's magnificent."
She pleaded, "Pull my skirt up," her voice trembling with desire.
I followed her instructions; she raised one leg on a high step and parted her legs for me. I didn't have time to admire the contrast between the dark-brown lace stocking tops and the pale silky flesh at the top of her thighs. Without much fanfare, she drew the gusset of her pants to one side and led the tip of my arched penis to her door.
We both took a minute to prepare for what was about to happen; she was warm and damp, and I went in, effortlessly separating her cunt walls. Her pelvic floor muscles gripped my shaft firmly, but she wasn't nearly as tight as my sister.
Under her breath, she muttered, "Fuck me," right against my ear.
She yanked me by the buttocks and pushed me up to my hilt, yelling, "Harder, faster." I began cautiously, but she wanted me to thrust into her.
I gave in to her desires; she danced on my cock, and before we knew it, she was letting out a symphony of pleasurable sounds. As soon as she indicated that she was prepared for an orgasmic experience, I poured my entire load into her, covering the walls of her closet. In the bitter cold, we clung to each other, relishing the afterglow of our orgasms and our first erotic coupling.
Oh, come on! We need to get going before someone spots us.
Leaning over my shoulder, she said, "Too late," as she adjusted her skirt.
I turned around and glanced back down the alley, but nobody was there. "Where? I demanded to know.
"The CCTV camera is on the wall behind you."
Um, no!"
"Don't worry, I doubt anyone will look at it unless there's a break-in."
We blew a kiss into the camera, reentered the street, and boarded the last train to Watford, initially relatively empty but nearly deserted in the last few stops. Sitting on my knee, we kissed and caressed our way to the terminus, with the exception of one woman who had alighted from the train a few stops earlier and voiced her opinion that we should "get a room."
On the taxi ride home, Marline skillfully concealed the fact that I had reached under her skirt. Her pussy felt moist and velvety through her damp panty gusset, and my cock was about to explode at the thought of where it would end up a few minutes after we got back to her place. Whenever she was sure the driver wasn't staring in his rearview mirror, she would give it a supportive squeeze.
The two of us paid the cab fare and trudged up the long pathway to Marline's front door, where she was trembling and struggling with her keys. I took it upon myself to unlock the door, and as I closed it behind me, she threw herself at me, unbuckling my belt once more. I spun her around and held her against the door, and we locked eyes for a brief moment before she threw herself at me again.
We were both still wearing our coats when she forcefully inserted her hand into my jeans and began masturbating me vigorously before I could move. We fell to the floor in stages, with me attempting to reach her skirt and her progressively overwhelming me with her supple, swiftly moving wrist. After she had me on my back, she covered my captured cock with her mouth and sucked me until I shot globules into her throat.
With a look of triumph on her face, Marline stood up, swallowed, and purposefully stood over me, with one leg on each side of my chest, so that I could see her skirt. She wiped her lips on her hand and stepped over me to go—where exactly? It was a challenge to see if the man she had just defeated had any life left in him; I discovered that he did.
As she stepped away from me, I snatched one of her ankles and slowly dragged her to the floor. She struggled, but now that she couldn't hold me, I was stronger. Never before was I more pleased with my own strength than the moment I leapt onto her. With one hand, I pinned her wrists over her head, and with the other, I ripped her pants off. The sound of the rip aroused me even more, and it appeared to break her resistance. She spread her legs wide, and I sank in, giving her a powerful fuck. She lasted for a while, and her erotic screams signaled her orgasm.
For a few seconds, we lay in a state of broken bliss.
"Well done; I thought I'd gotten the better of you, but you gave me a good fucking eventually."
"You're an incredible fuck, Marline, and full of surprises."
I must say, you're quite the looker. Drop your outerwear and come sit down with me in the living room. I'll make us each a brandy glass. Please take a short break; I will be waiting for your assistance again soon. Are you confident in your ability to stay up? She smiled broadly.
"It'll be fun finding out."
As we sat together on the couch, sipped our brandy, and caressed each other's thighs, I knew we would be having sex again. But I couldn't shake a question about the connection between my sister and her mother's sentiments.
"I imagine my mother and my sister are enjoying themselves."
"I'll say, three months ago, I could never have imagined all of this incestuous carnality."
"Although, if you think about it, there's no incest taking place tonight."
"No, I'm dead serious. Could you tell me?"
"I was going to ask you that same question."
"Lydia and me—what does that mean?"
"Yes, of course, you can't deny that she's really hot."
"Well, yes, I know, but..."
"Tell me, have you ever had a sexual encounter with her?" he asked.
"No."
Redness had spread to Marline's cheeks.
"You aspire to, don't you?""
Total absence of sound.
"You know what?"I bet you've been thinking about her, fantasizing about touching her and having her touch you. "It's especially strange because you started touching my mom so closely, and then you found out I was touching her too."
I must admit something. Renata's statement that she had seduced you on her birthday was so intriguing to me. During our recent bedtime together, she confessed that she had been playing tricks on you for weeks. "It was amazing; she played with me while she told me the full story.""I came five times to believe it or not."
"Oh, I absolutely believe that." However, what about Lydia? "How about it?"
"Yes."
"Would you?""
"I'll kill you if you breathe a word to her."
"No way! You're counting on me to ask her directly if she approves of the idea."
"Yes."
"I'll let you into a little secret."
"What's that?"
"I overheard Lydia telling my mother last night that she's been masturbating at the thought of committing incest with you."
"Oh, Jesus! Oh fuck, you're kidding."
"No, I'm not."
"Oh fuck, I wouldn't know where to start."
"You don't have to."Why don't you allow my mother and me to take care of everything when we gather to ring in the new year? That is, assuming you haven't already done it."
What I do know is that it appears... I get it; daydreaming about fucking your daughter is totally OK, but...
"I can assure you that it's deliciously wrong, and that's what makes it so right. It's hard to describe what it's like to watch your mother or sister as you make them come. It feels wonderfully dirty and forbidden; just having them hold my erect cock is mind-blowingly erotic."
"You make it sound so natural, but how can it be?"
When I asked if you had dated previously, you said, "Well, what about your lust for my mother?""
"No."
After you regained your composure, how did it feel?"
Although we enjoyed ourselves while it was happening, we both agreed that it was an isolated incident and that we would not repeat it. We weren't embarrassed; more like surprised, I guess. However, I'll confess that we were completely dependent on each other. I suppose that means we were born with the ability to love another woman. It seemed natural, I guess, even though I had never before thought of myself as having an attraction to women. However, it appears that you're comparing it to incest. It could be going a little too far.
"I can assure you that upon your initial encounter with Lydia's fingers on your pussy, your body will be engulfed in flames, you will exert greater effort than at any other time in your life, and you will experience an intensely erotic sense of incestuous depravity that you will yearn to relive with her."
"Stop, you're turning me on too much."
"It's impossible to turn anyone on too much."
We shifted gears and chatted about my late father and Marline's shock that he had been a bigamist. After that, we delved into Marline's family, but our true intention was to gradually lure each other into another intense experience.
As we engaged in sexual activity, I reached beneath her miniskirt and gently caressed her enlarged labia, reaching up to whisper in her ear that I would describe the feeling of making love to her daughter. She closed her eyes, sighed, and listened as I told her about my sister's incest with me, how she had sucked my cock and made me come, and how my mother and sister had fingered each other to orgasm while I lay in bed pretending to be asleep.
As I spoke my incestuous fantasies into Marline's ear, her arousedness grew, until, with a simultaneous squeezing of my shaft and unbuckling of my belt for the third time that evening, she drew my face to hers and filled my lips with her tongue.
"Remove them. Remove everything. I desire to behold your beautiful physique," she demanded. She sat up, pulled off her ankle boots, sweater, and bra, all while saying this. Her lovely, full, firm breasts moved ever so slightly as she did. Rising to her feet, she undid her skirt's zipper and let it cascade to the ground. At the moment, her only clothing consisted of trousers and stockings. I took her underwear down, and she sat down and sensually undid her stockings.
I had removed all of my clothing, including my underwear, by this point. I went to grab the waistband, but she motioned for me to stand up first. Then, she delicately drew it down with her fingertips. She grasped my aroused organ, placed pressure on it against my abdomen, and subsequently enveloped it with her lips. What an unbearable sensation it was as her tongue caressed the length of my shaft, and her lips teased my glans.

I stood before her as she sat on the couch. She continued to grasp my penis as she leaned back and assisted me into her hole by dragging me into her.
"I want to watch you fuck my daughter from behind while she licks my pussy."
When she made those remarks, she appeared a little taken aback. Her sexual confession sent us reeling, and we fucked each other desperately. As I pressed against her, she encircled my waist with her legs. As we fucked fiercely again, my semen surged along my shaft and exploded in her cunt. She went into an orgasmic state of masturbation as I moved my member in and out of her come-lubricated hole.
As she continued to feel the space between her labia and clitoris with her fingers, I proceeded to enclose her cunt with my lips and deeply inserted my tongue into her prior to her ability to fully recover from her climax. She felt a surge of panic and began to pick at her nails with a newfound determination. She quickly returned; since my cock was no longer functional, I used my lips and mouth to compete with her fingers for the best position on her damp pussy. Upon her third return, I capitalized on the situation by consuming her pussyjuice concoction and sucking her clitoral.
We made tender, sensuous love in the wee hours of the morning and then drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
My thoughts wandered to my sensual evening with Marline, and I fell asleep. I felt an overwhelming amount of love for her, and it had surpassed my wildest dreams. While I did engage in wonderful incest with my sister and mother, making love to her was a whole other ballgame. Unlike our illicit sexual connection, I didn't feel the thrill of being intimate with Marline. I was filled with sheer joy instead. I had already developed a deep affection for my mom and sister, and now I was ready to do the same for Marline, guiding her towards her daughter's adorable cat.
Please, please, please.
I felt the aftereffects of three straight late nights of sex by Friday morning. I didn't know how I was going to keep up with the three of them; they were ravenous. There is simply no way I could pick just one of the three of them. When it comes to sensual pleasures, fucking your mother is unparalleled. Next on the list would be my sister; the incestuous rush of putting my cock in her hand left me standing half-erect at work the day following our intimate encounter. After that, there was Marline—the multi-orgasmic Marline—and I realized I was falling for her; I was getting preoccupied with seeing her kid bring her down.
Most people's last day of work was Friday because Christmas Day was the following Monday. Both my mom and I were at work when she informed me that she would be running late to get home from a retirement party, where she was giving a speech and a presentation, before heading out to dinner. I also said that I wouldn't stay home too late because my company's Christmas party was after work.
We were both planning to go to work a bit later than normal after our passionate evenings. My mother was on the verge of driving Lydia to the station when I got home to change into my work clothes. My sister finished applying her cosmetics upstairs.
"Did you enjoy yourself with Marline last night?"
"Yes, very much."How about you and Lydia?"
"Magnificent."
"I'll have to go now; I'll just say goodbye to Lydia, and we can tell each other all about our dates later tonight."
"Yes, but before you go, listen carefully. You do not have my permission to fuck any of your colleagues at your office party. Make sure you behave yourself, and I want you home by nine o'clock; do you understand?"
Just thinking about my mother's tyrannical behavior made my cock pulse many times. Her continued performance tonight was everything I had hoped for and anticipated.
"Yes, mother."
"Leave your phone on; I'll be checking on you from time to time."
By seven o'clock, the office party had really taken off. Those who had decided not to come had already departed, and the rest of the partygoers had warmed up with some drinks and dancing.
She started her messages with, "You'd better behaving yourself; don't forget the 9 p.m. curfew!"
Just after 7:45 p.m., a second message arrived, which I failed to answer: "Please do not disregard this; reply with confirmation that your cock is still in your pants."
My 39-year-old married team leader was quite close to me while we danced, and she must have felt my erection pressing on her, but she did nothing to stop me. I also failed to see the third message at 7:50 p.m. because I didn't even feel the vibration from my phone. "I'm coming to get you now; meet me outside your building in ten minutes."
My mother was really irritated because she had to find a parking spot and come looking for me, even though I wasn't there. Booze and party energy enveloped me completely. My team leader kissed me under a mistletoe sprig as my mother entered the general office, the venue of the celebration.
She said, "Put her down and come with me now," before aggressively making her way back to the entrance.
"Oh God, have I gotten you into trouble? I hope that wasn't your girlfriend."
I admitted to my team leader, "It was my mother," feeling a twinge of satisfaction at his obvious assumption.
"Wow, your mother? She's hot, but why was she so annoyed with you?"
When I glanced at my watch, my excuse was that I had kept her waiting. "You know, mothers."
We returned home in nearly total silence. My mom sent me a warning message right before we got to the residence.
"Upon discovering your infidelity with her, I shall demand your resignation from your occupation and transform you into my houseboy."
She maintained her demeanor after we entered the building. It was just after 8:00, and we were both utterly exhausted from the passionate evenings we had just spent together. My mom remained in the character—or at least I believed it was a role play since she was so unbelievably believable. I was still a little lightheaded from the wine, so she held me in the corridor.
"You're going to bed immediately; you may spend the night in your previous room; I have a vibrator appointment."
Feeling mortified, I skulked upstairs and collapsed into bed. Later on, in order to secretly listen in on my mother masturbating with her sex toy, I left the door to my bedroom slightly ajar. Although she was cognizant of my unease, I was starting to suspect that she was taking advantage of me for sexual gain.
I heard her making her way up the stairs a few minutes after that. I stealthily made my way to the landing after waiting for what sounded like she had gone to bed. I was pleasantly surprised to find that our bedroom door was partially ajar. She had done it deliberately, anticipating that I would act as a voyeur, as far as I could tell.
A woman's quiet moans, accompanied by a low buzzing sound, soon followed. She continued for quite a while, muttering Marline's or Lydia's names here and there. The thought crossed my mind that she may be patiently awaiting my arrival, knowing full well that I would be standing outside the bedroom door, cock in hand. I walked on an area where I knew a loose floorboard would reveal my whereabouts, and sure enough, she sighed and said, "Oh, Marline." At this point, I could hear the vibrator clearly; she must have cranked it up to its highest setting. Through the opening between the bedroom door and the frame, I beheld her preparing for an orgasmic release with her legs spread wide, her head cocked back, and her pelvis twirling.
The sex toy completely ensnared her; she could not resist its influence. A deep, guttural sound was the initial indicator of an intense orgasmic feeling. She released a brief staccato screech from the base of her throat as her orgasm reached its peak. The big device remained just where she wanted it thanks to her deft use of her hands. After a powerful surge, she faded into faint, whimpering aftershocks. I sneaked back into my former room and dozed off while engaging in a fantasyland of my mother masturbating and managing a cock filled with come.
She continued to play dominatrix the following day. She warned me not to talk until she specifically asked me to do so, and she was still furious with me. In the lead-up to Christmas, she kept herself occupied. On Christmas Day, my mom's sister invited us to her house, where we volunteered to share an appetizer and dessert. Today, instead of her typical cooking and cleaning attire of tight jeans and a jumper, she sprung about in a short little flared skirt, heels, and opaque stockings.
As a submissive puppet for her tyrannical disposition, I assisted her in the kitchen. While taunting me in her short skirt and stockings, she sat down in the evening to read more 'Literotica' stories. There was an undeniable sexual tension between us, but I still didn't know if she would let me sleep in her bed again.
She slammed her iPad shut, rose from her seat, and motioned for me to accompany her to the dining room. She then produced a sturdy dining chair and instructed me to stand next to it.
"Stand there and don't move; I'll be back in a moment."
She was missing for a moment before coming back with a battered table tennis bat. It had been years since I last laid eyes on the bat, but I remembered she used to play when she was younger. My nerves were on edge. Seated in the chair, she proceeded to provide me with yet another directive.
"Pull your jeans and underpants down to your ankles and bend over my lap."
Either her skirt rode up, or she styled it so that her suspender clips and stocking tops were on full display. A gentle tap with the bat would have been my ideal reaction to her beautiful thighs, but alas, I was incorrect.
I have decided to punish you for your misbehavior last night. You will be much more compliant in the future when I command you to do something. What do you think?"
"Yes."
"Now, we'll make sure this lesson sticks."
I positioned myself on her lap, and my penis began to engorge. She grasped the bat between her thighs, which were covered in stockings, and then struck my buttocks with it. I flinched, and five seconds later, she slammed it down again. Five seconds after that, I felt the sting of a third slap. This continued for two or three minutes; I lost track of time. At first, there was a stinging pain, but it subsided. Over time, warmth permeated my trapped erection via my balls and then my buttocks.
Although it was intriguing that she was causing me so much discomfort, she continued to spank me. When she felt my breathing change, she cupped my balls and caressed them with her right hand. She then ran her fingernails playful over my perineum, inducing the sensation that I was about to exude. All the while, she had my erect cock trapped between her knees. Her playful interactions enraged me until I let go, releasing my load onto her stockings, the wooden floor, and her shoes.
"Dude, you need to learn self-control. You should get a cloth and tidy up. I went back and picked up a moist cloth to wipe my feet clean. She lifted her legs, so I was able to take off her shoes.
"Lick them clean, then go and fetch me another pair of stockings."
The more she watched me lick her stilettos, the more excited she appeared to be. After I got her a fresh pair of stockings after I cleaned up the mess I made from my early spill. Her performance of a sensual, well-choreographed scene with a 1950s movie actress changing her stocking had me enthralled.
"Take everything off and get on your hands and knees, then follow me."
She awaited my descent to my nude state and on all fours before proceeding to the corridor. On my hands and knees, I crawled after her as she went upstairs. I could see her stocking tops and white silk panty gusset as she slowly and methodically made her way up the stairs, and that gave me a second thrill. She was cruelly taunting her son, my beautiful mother. Once again, my privates started to twitch. She turned away from me as I climbed the stairs and gestured with a crooked finger for me to follow her to her bedroom.
"Lie face down on the bed and close your eyes."
A drawer on a vanity swung open and shut, and I caught the sound. She straddled me and began tugging my wrists together before I could even blink. To secure them tightly, she used a supple material, which happened to be one of her old stockings. As a result, she rolled me over and gingerly undid her skirt and sweater.
"You had better be completely hardened by the time I'm naked," she advised, examining my half-erect cock as it laboriously attempted to attain complete firmness.
For her own gratification, she rode me many times and left me chained for two hours. She instructed me to return to my previous room once she had released me.
Please, please, please.
That evening, Christmas Eve arrived. My mom came down in her dressing robe just as I was getting dressed downstairs. She appeared to be trying to free herself from her oppression of me, but I was anticipating more flogging and taunting. Surprisingly, she expressed her desire to apologize and appeared somewhat embarrassed.
"Callin, I'm sorry for the way I have treated you for the past day and a half. I was jealous, and I overreacted. I'm very sorry. To make it up to you, I'm going to be submissive today. I'll do anything and everything you say. You're in charge for the whole day, including in bed tonight."
I was taken aback. This was the first occasion that she actually let me be in charge, despite her earlier claims to the contrary.
“Alright, let's get dressed and take a shower first. I want you to wear that flared miniskirt, heels, and seamed black stockings around the house today,” I said. While we wait, I'll plan what you'll wear to the bar with me this evening.
"Of course, Callin, you can say anything."
"We're going to the local, so we'll both have to be on our best behavior if we want to keep our little family secret from being widely known."
She sashayed around all day with a feline grace that made my cock twitch. I yielded to my desires after lunch and forced her to engage in masturbation in her large armchair. It was the most alluring sight I'd ever laid eyes on. Her small sighs turned into throaty screams, and she was on the verge of growling. I yanked her from her chair, extracted my cock from my jeans, and placed her atop it after she had completed her work. We were both facing forward. As she returned, I massaged her pussycat and tweaked her nipples. I subsequently led her in my direction and instructed her to fuck my cock using her small, constricted pussy.
As she was doing this, I inserted my load into my mother's clenching cunt, and I whispered in her ear that I wanted to see her bartender buddy fuck her with a strap-on. Her fantasies stimulated her so much that she returned for a third time in five minutes.
The pub was crowded; we crammed ourselves into a corner alongside our neighbors, making a concerted effort to keep our hands away from each other. However, there were a few instances when I discreetly massaged my knuckles against a suspender clip. I had instructed her to wear her highest stilettos, barely black seamed stockings, her tightest black pencil-cut knee-length skirt, and a semi-translucent cream blouse topped with a pretty lace camisole that accentuated her ample breasts.
She was absolutely breathtaking; everyone could not take their eyes off of her. I was immensely proud of her; she was my mother, and everyone there knew about my adultery with her. She was my lover, and I was the proud owner of her beloved little pussycat. I had made her feel special all day, and when no one was looking, I whispered it into her ear again.
After our parting, I observed that multiple men simultaneously aroused her sexually, akin to a swarm of bees. She kept smiling and looked over at me, so I texted her, "Tease them and leave them wanting more."
After twenty minutes of waiting, I was able to speak with her, and she informed me that she had received two sexual propositions and two requests for dates from married men, some of whom she knew only vaguely. The pub was quite rowdy, and a fit middle-aged neighbor later separated us, inviting me to have "coffee and a chat" with her while her husband was away after Christmas.
I watched my mother stealthily pull out her phone and glance at the screen; she then pretended to have an excuse and leaned to one side so no one could see her screen, but by the time ten-fifteen rolled around, her fans were once again milling around her, eager to get a better look.
I was about to kiss my alluring middle-aged friend goodnight when she reinserted her phone into her purse when my pocket vibrated with a message that read, "Please rescue me, bring me home, and f*ck me." My friend insisted on a Christmas kiss, but I accidentally kissed her on the mouth instead, which was quite pleasant, but I had more pressing matters to attend to, like rescuing a lady in distress.
On my way to pick up my mom, I dragged her away from her admirers, helped her put on her coat, and then we said our goodbyes, braving the chilly night air. On the drive home, I couldn't wait to tell my mom how I felt.
"I love you twice over: once as my mother and once as my lover."
Her eyes welled up with tears as she kissed me on the cheek and said, "Oh, darling, that's a wonderful thing to say to me." She chuckled and expressed her love for me in three different ways: as my son, as my lover, and as a man associated with a gorgeous cock.
We drew closer, arm in arm, so we were still in the realm of mother-son love. Luckily, we lived only five minutes from the pub; going any farther would have been too much for my mother's five-inch stilettos. Even so, she strode elegantly in them, turning heads as she went down the street.
I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her as I led her down the quiet streets to our house—the kind of urge a son should never have toward his mother. The excitement of kissing someone we knew aroused us both, and she returned the kiss. She was soon caressing my member through my jeans, at which point I enticed her to place her hip in my groin.
"I've got a surprise for you when we get home, if you don't mind that."
"What kind of shock?"
"Watch out. "Does my word not have any weight with you?"
"Yes, of course, even though you spanked me last night."
It was fun, wasn't it?"
"Surprisingly, yes, I did."
"Well, I might do it again if you're particularly mischievous, but tonight, you rule."
We were glad to be inside the warm house, as the temperature dropped when we arrived at the front door. We shed our coats and stared at my mother's figure—a woman who was my lover—in her figure-hugging skirt, see-through blouse, and high heels. She went into the kitchen, poured a large glass of whisky, cut a slice of cake, and placed it on a plate. She set the cake and the glass of whisky down on the hearth beside the fireplace, close to the Christmas tree.
"What is its purpose?" I inquired.
"Of course, Santa."
"I haven't seen you do that since I was a kid."
"Ah, well, there's a special reason for it tonight."
With my eyes fixed on hers, I awaited her response while she retrieved a huge bag from a nearby cabinet and presented it to me.
"Please put these on. After you return downstairs, please make yourself at home with the cake and whisky." I will join you later.
It appeared that I was bewildered.
"It's okay; it's a role play, a bit of erotic fun, and you're definitely the lead character."
I opened the bag after climbing into bed. On the inside, you may find a Santa suit complete with a beard and black boots. When I put it on, I had a good chuckle to myself.
My mother was not downstairs when I returned, so I sat down in her big recliner with the cake and scotch. It seemed like an eternity before she emerged from the hall, appearing startled to see Father Christmas seated in her living room.

"Oh goodness me, Father Christmas, is it really you?"
"Ho ho ho, yes, my dear, have you been a good girl this year?"
The truth is that I've been somewhat mischievous; I let my kid fuck me. "Not really, Santa."
"Well, don't worry; I think we can overlook a minor misdemeanor like incest on one condition."
"Oh, my goodness! Could you tell me the catch, Santa?"
"That you let me fuck you."
“Oh, Santa! Oh, I had no idea you would ever inquire.
To end the night, we exchanged Christmas presents and made love in bed again before falling asleep in each other's arms. I stood up, let the jacket fall to the floor, and pulled down the trousers to reveal my eager, erect cock in all its glory. She removed her blouse and skirt quickly, and I proceeded to fuck my mother in her heels and stockings on the rug in front of the fireplace while wearing only my Santa boots.
Please, please, please.
Three weeks prior to Christmas, my mother proposed that the four of us ring in the new year together. However, she was concerned that it would be too late to secure tickets to any of the events in our or Marline's areas. Marline told my mother to let her handle the situation, promising to intervene as necessary. Marline's employment agency supplied staff to various entertainment venues in Hertfordshire, so she utilized her connections to locate a place that could accommodate us, and she even arranged for taxis to and from the problematic venue.
Even though they were careful not to reveal our group's "lifestyle choice," Marline and Lydia's enthusiastic discussion on speakerphone about what to wear to the New Year's party aroused me to the point that I got an erection, which my mother duly put to good use when the call ended. This was the only way my mother and I could communicate with Marline and Lydia during their five-day stay in Ireland between Christmas and New Year.
While our lovers were away in Ireland, my mother and I had no choice but to fuck multiple times a day. Rather than playing the dominatrix role, she displayed a subtle sense of submissiveness and deference toward me. During our intimate encounters, she insisted that I be on her lap or behind her.
She asked me if I would ever punish her for being naughty. I had an instant hard-on and was hopeful about where our conversation might go. My mother came downstairs the morning before New Year's Eve dressed in a vintage swing dress I hadn't seen before—a green dress with a white collar, a tight bodice, a flared skirt, and a fluffy petticoat—and wore low-heeled white sandals.
I quickly understood that she wanted to experience a spanking, so I asked her if there was anything she wanted to confess. She pretended—or at least I thought it was a pretense—that she'd been masturbating about the sturdy and very sexy bartender that she'd encountered just over a week ago, so I bent her over my knee and pulled her dress up. es Her beautiful buttocks, adorned in a frilly, white lace pantsuit, were begging for a spanking. I pulled her pants down to her knees and smacked her forcefully multiple times. She gave a little yelp each time I hit her; her pretty pink pussysta As soon as I removed the spanking and inserted my thumb, she exclaimed and widened her legs to the greatest extent possible. as far as she could.
With my mother resting on my knee and my thumb delicately touching a sensitive area on her vaginal roof, she responded brilliantly, trembling and spasming for a few seconds before releasing a deep, contented sigh and collapsing onto my lap.
She had given me this massive erection, and I had to use it.
"Your punishment isn't over yet, Mother; get up and follow me."
"I guided her to the dining table, bending her over it with her face down." I lifted her dress to reveal her beautiful, swollen labia; her pants fell and gathered on the floor around her left foot. It was such an erotic sight—her shapely legs in nude stockings, bright red buttocks, and her little tush covered in her viscous pussy. By now, I was desperate to enter my mother's body. I laid my head down on the tabletop, eased my hard cock into her wet cunt, and fucked her vigorously. nt, coughed, and fucked her vigorously. I didn't last long, but she managed to come again as my hard cock filled a I shot my spunk into her, and she came as only my mother could, breathlessly squealing, moaning, and urging me to fuck her senselessly. She was urging me to fuck her senselessly.
It was so strong that it took us a few minutes to calm down.
Once again, my mother had taken me by surprise; she had revealed her submissive side to me. This would not be the last time she would provoke me into disciplining her, restraining her while I spanked her and gave her a firm fucking. She never contacted her bartender acquaintance, or at least she never told me about it. While I was certain she didn't, we utilized her encounter to fuel our fantasies of having an intense sexual encounter.
Please, please, please.
Our group met at Marline's the next night to get ready for the party. I quickly put on my black suit, white shirt, and bow tie. The women had their own bedrooms; they had decided to wear little black dresses with barely-black seamed stockings and black stilettos. They carried clutch bags and wore stoles around their shoulders; they were absolutely stunning, the epitome of sex and sophistication.
I was absolutely thrilled; I felt like the luckiest man alive. Lydia wore a short, form-fitting dress that tastefully revealed her figure. My mother and Marline both opted for form-fitting pencil-cut dresses; Marline's were just above the knee, while my mother's were knee-length. I had no idea where to find them, Adeline.
My mother, with Marline and Lydia watching, took out her wedding band, which she hadn't worn since my father's burial, and gave it to me, instructing Lydia and Marline to observe as I placed it on her ring finger. Seeing that I was a bit bewildered, she proceeded to explain her motivation.
"Tonight, you're not my son; you're my husband."
My mother wanted to consider herself my wife, and I felt pleased since I had made love to her nearly every day for the previous month. I was looking forward, with great pride, to introducing her as my wife to as many people as possible.
Lydia, who was sitting in the center of the back seat, tried to keep her knees together, but her feet were several inches apart due to the drive shaft housing. The taxi driver didn't seem to mind this awkward situation, and I sat next to him in the front passenger seat, watching as he adjusted his driving mirror downwards to better see their legs. The expression on the taxi driver's face was priceless.
As we pulled up to the venue, he turned to watch the three beautiful women undress, raising their legs to rise out of the car seat. He winked at me, looked enviously, and then drove off, leaving us at the front door of the grand hotel that had been reserved for the party.
The venue had a cabaret arrangement of tables, a small stage with a live band, and a good-sized dance floor in front of the band. It was an exciting moment for me to introduce my mother as my wife to the four guests at our table, and for Marline and Lydia as my aunt and cousin, respectively. Marline thought she recognized a few faces among the eighty or so guests, but thankfully, she didn't recognize anyone she knew.
We had a wonderful time watching Marline and Lydia dance with my mom as we dined, drank, and danced the night away. I danced close to my "wife," but kept my "aunt" and "cousin" at a more respectable distance.
On one side, I gathered my mother and Marline in an embrace, and on the other, my sister embraced them. At midnight, we counted down in our little huddle, released balloons and streamers, and exchanged kisses. There were many more attractive women at the party, but my three lovers stood out. I thought they were the most beautiful women in the room, and many of the other guests seemed to agree. As the clock ticked down to midnight, the lead singer of the band announced that the countdown to the New Year was about to begin. People flocked to the dance floor.
I kissed my mom; it was a passionate, passionate kiss that meant all our incestuous feelings and desires. I glanced over and saw Marline and Lydia kissing each other briefly before embracing fiercely. Then we all kissed each other, showing respect for public decency. Our faces betrayed our sexual hunger and desire as we joined hands to sing 'Auld Lang Syne.' After the traditional New Year's song ended, we left and went to find a taxi. It was a mild evening for this time of year; we stood outside in the fresh air, waiting for the taxi. The women looked elegant and classy in their little black dresses and heels, with stoles draped over their shoulders and clutch bags held high.
Another admiring cab driver dropped us off at Marline's house. In the spacious living room, we sat around a lit fire and drank brandy, wondering who would strike first. Two big sofas faced each other across from a coffee table. On one end, there was a plush armchair. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree flanked the fireplace on the opposite end. My mother and I sat on one of the couches, with Marline and Lydia sitting across from us. Auren sat facing us.
My mother first raised the issue.
"So, I think we did very well to act with decorum at the party, but now I want a proper New Year kiss from you two ladies."
Lydia got to her feet, walked over to where my mom was seated, reached over, and lifted her out of her chair.
"Very well. At that celebration, I wanted a passionate kiss more than words can describe. "Come along, Mother; you must join in too."
Marline, who appeared anxious, stated, "I'll be satisfied to observe you two for the time being."
Then my sister and mom had a long, passionate kiss, and I felt my cock tighten as I saw them caress and fondle one another's buttocks, pressing their pussies into each other's thighs.
My mom spoke the words, "Your turn now, Marline," as they parted ways in a kiss.
While my mom and Marline were passionately kissing in front of the fireplace, I embraced my sister and kissed her warm, soft lips; she reached under my pants to feel my arched member.
Is tonight the night you want to fuck your mom?"kisses."
"Oh God, yes."
"Are you sure? I know you've both entertained fantasies about it, but do you believe you can convince her? ersuaded?"
"God, I hope so."
"You're shaking; are you okay??"
"Yes, I'm just so fucking aroused at the thought of finally getting my hand inside my mother's pants."
"Let's see if we can make it happen."
"What are you two whispering about?" Marline said this while still ensconced in my mother's arms. My mom had the audacity to ask.
"Judging by the glint in your daughter's eye, I think there might be someone else she wants to kiss." "While I'm at it, I'm reclaiming my property; my husband's cock is mine, but I might allow you two ladies to use it later if you maintain good manners with one another now."
My mother began to undress me in front of Marline and my sister, much to my delight. She sensually removed my jacket, tie, and shirt, while Marline and my sister sat side by side, their eyes filled with desire. I knelt down, kissed my shoes, undid the laces, and removed my shoes and socks. While still on her knees, she unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and unzipped my fly. As she lowered my pants to the floor, she kissed my bulging shaft as it strained against the fabric of my gray-gray underwear.
As I undressed, my mother asked me to unzip her dress. With a seductive flourish, she removed her bra and pants and stood seductively adorned in stilettos, stockings, suspenders, and stockings, her pink pussy shining through her dark skin. She positioned me next to her on the sofa and began a slow, gentle caress of my genitalia. Very slowly, she caressed my cock, and my sister gasped in shock.
"Jesus Christ!" Marline shouted. Neither of you calms me down quite like the other.
My mother proceeded to caress my balls and rub my shaft, while Marline and my sister stared. My breathing was becoming irregular, and I was unprepared for what was next. With her head dropped, my mother sucked nearly the whole length of my shaft. I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. As her sister turned to plant a passionate kiss on her mother's full lip, her mother froze for an instant. Lydia, a strong young lady, seized her mother's mouth and gently pulled herself onto the sofa, despite her mother's attempts to push her away.
Melissaline stopped showing any signs of resistance; her tongue grappled with her daughter's, and, to the best of her ability in her tight dress, she hooked one leg over her daughter's. Their bodies writhed together as they continued to kiss. My mother lifted her head to watch the erotic drama unfold before her. Having to kiss each other had unleashed a tempest; her mother flipped her over so that she was on top, and she started massaging Lydia's breasts, who moaned in response. sounds of pleasure.
As we watched Lydia remove the zipper from her mother's form-fitting, pencil-cut black dress, my mother continued to tenderly touch me. After Marline lifted herself off her daughter, she removed her bra and slacks, slid off the dress, and turned her over to zip her dress.
"Take it off, honey, take it off for me..."
"Yes," I said with a grin. "Yes, Mummy, I will comply with your every command."
The steamy banter between mom and daughter cinched my balls. With her shivers and grunts, my mother grasped my hand and placed it on her pussyfoot. Laura undressed, removing her form-fitting dress, bra, and slacks. A mix of astonishment and joy spread across her mother's face. joy and astonishment at her countenance.
"Darling, you've shaved your pussycat."pus Indeed, it's about there. I like your landing strip." ding strip."
"Mummy, would you like to feel it?"
Their hands wandered down each other's bodies until they rested on each other's abdomens. After entwining her fingers in the red pubic hair of her mother, Lydia placed one finger on her clitoris. As they sat side by side again, they passionately kissed, and her mother had no choice but to give in.
"Oh God, don't, darling; this is so wrong; please don't; we mustn't do this; I don't mind kissing, but..."
Lydia's mother was touching her clitoral region as she delicately drew sensual circles with her finger.
"Sorry, but no. This is incorrect. OMG, it's completely incorrect. The magnitude of its incorrectness is overwhelming. Oh my god, that's amazing, baby. Please don't end it. I want you desperately; your mother is terrible.
Marline silently yelped as she pressed her fingers firmly into the space between her daughter's labia, lubricating herself with her daughter's pussy fluid as she probed. Their lips met once again.
Lydia and Marline were having a passionate encounter, with Marline moving towards Lydia's pussies first, while they made seductive noises as they massaged each other's wet pussies. Their soft sounds intensified as they inserted their fingers into each other's cunts, and I could feel my gaze moving towards their outlet. My mother must have sensed it too, because she took her hand off my cock and told me to be quiet.
"Oh, fuck me, baaaby, fuck me; I've waited for this; fuck me."
Her kid had an orgasmic response to her comments.
Mother, this is the moment I've been dreaming of. I need you, so please bring your daughter here.
"My goodness! Oh my god, absolutely.
As Marline's pelvis juddered, she cocked her head back and touched her daughter's deft fingers. Simultaneously, her daughter let out an orgasmic scream that echoed throughout the room. With her free hand, Marline rubbed her own clitoris, joining her mother in their shared orgasmic joy.
As soon as Lydia and Marline finished coming, my mother and I were engrossed in watching. Lydia then drew me onto her.
My eager mother said, "Fuck me now, you bastard; fuck me hard." I wanted my husband's cock inside of me, so I fucked her.
I didn't even need an invitation; we rushed there as if our lives were in danger, and I raped my mother in front of my sister and her mom. It was the best feeling in the world.
We refilled our brandy glasses and took turns kissing and fondling each other. With my fingers, I brought Marline close, while my sister made me hard again by putting my cock in her mouth. As we lay face to face, top to tail, I kissed her pussycat. On the other sofa, my mother and my sister's newly incestuous mother put on a spectacular display of mutual pussycat licking. We continued like this for a while, switching partners every so often, until my mother had an idea.
Please, dear, relocate the coffee table. Marline, sit in the armchair and honor your mother's pussycat, Lydia. Maintain an upright position, and I will bury my face in your charming, tiny pussycat's embrace. "Callin, darling, I don't need to tell you where I'd like you to put your cock, do I?"
"Fuck, no, Mother; I'll be inside your gorgeous cunt while I watch you ladies pleasure one another."
My genitalia exploded at the thought of what we were going to do. Marline sat down, her expression one of intense want. Her stilettos raised her knees just high enough for her daughter to place her arms behind her thighs, grasp her stocking tops, and close her incestuous lips over her mother's pussy, all while she looked stunning in her stocking-clad legs.
The pleasure of her daughter's tongue quickly led to Marline groaning. Lydia moaned her appreciation into her mother's pussy as my mother guided her into a kneeling position with her buttocks as high as possible. Then, she shoved her nose and lips into Lydia's pink pussycat, trailing her tongue along the valley between her labia.
I knelt down and inserted my erect cock into my mother's cunt with great care. There was minimal resistance from her vaginal walls as I slipped it home. With a barely audible groan, she retreated against me.
To this day, I still can't get over how exciting it was. In our passionate embrace, the four of us begged each other. In little time at all, we had a routine down pat: my mom licked my sister's perineum and stuck a thumb into her vagina, while my sister sucked her mom's clitoral region and simultaneously finger-fucked her.
When I sensed that Marline was about to enter an orgasmic state, I contacted my mom immediately. In response, she massaged Lydia's clitoral area hard and licked her between her anus and cunt. Marline bucked her hips and shouted with orgasmic joy as Lydia's fingers reached her mother's G-spot. Lydia's pussy juice coated my mother's face as she made quick strokes with her fingers on her clitoral region and her thumb inside her vagina. Ejaculating inside my mother's closet, I felt a tremendous surge of relief. It gushed out of her, then dripped into her stocking tops and down her legs.
In the middle of a symphony of approaching sounds, the four of us orgasmed, and we rested on the couches for a while thereafter. After exchanging smiles, Marline took the lead in speaking.

"Renata, would you like to take your 'husband' up to the guest bedroom so that he can pin you to the mattress?" "I will bring my daughter to my bed so we can fuck each other; I might not see you for several days," I advised Marline.
Stepping off of the couch in her skimpy underwear, my mother grinned at Marline, seized my sagging member, wished me goodbye, and guided me to the guest bedroom by its side. I was back in my mom's care by the time we arrived. After securing my position on my back, she proceeded to place her hand on my chest before straddling her son and using her incestuous cunt to ride his incestuous cock.
Marline did lie on her back and extend her legs for her daughter after yielding to her allure; she could not get enough of her daughter's fingers in her pussycat. Over the next two days, we fucked each other frequently while indulging in an incestuous love haze.
Please, please, please.
Six months later, the four of us were on our way to a week-long retreat in the Loire Valley, traveling through the plains of northern France. Our rallying cry was "Family Affair" by Sly and the Family Stone, which was blasting on the vehicle stereo.
We were going to move into a house that Marline and my mom had purchased jointly when we got back from our vacation. After selling their own residences, they discovered a Berkshire property that met all of our requirements. While the details of their sexual connection were accurate, they lied to our families and everyone else who wanted to know for the sake of decorum.
No one but us would ever know the complete truth. I, along with my mother, sister, and her mother, eagerly anticipated many more years of incestuous relations with our respective families. Our journey had already begun.