Incest/Taboo A Mother's Worry

Fuck me, but Mom was horny. She wasn't just wet. She wanted to fuck!

"Mom," I said, still kneeling, "can you turn around for me?"

Mom pushed herself to a standing position and turned around. She looked down at me, but I didn't look up at her. I had my phone focused on the triangle of her labia, recording the blonde hairs sticking above her waistline and panning the camera over the exposed sides of her mound. I panned lower, loving how the outer edges of her lips lay outside of the triangle of her little panties.

I stood, keeping the camera on my mother's body, recording her stomach and belly button and her breasts. I captured each one, zooming in on her nipples, and then I moved up to her face, where she was nibbling on the last of her strawberry, and a little bit of juice escaped her lips as she bit into it.

My cock hurt so fucking much because of this... this... this craziness.

"Mom," I said, "I can't do this anymore."

"Mark," Mom said, dropping her hand from her mouth, the strawberry's top slipping from her fingers and crashing to the wooden floor below.

"I need to see Jenna." I lowered my camera. "This is too much. I mean, look!" I tilted my phone's viewer at my cock. "Your teasing--"

"Don't say that," Mom said. "You can't see Jenna. You can't. You have to do something else. You have to find a way to stay away from her. You have to--"

"Can I touch you?" I asked, my question slicing through her words and leaving her wide-eyed. "I'm not leaving Jenna for another woman. I'm not. But if you're going to insist on this, whatever this is, I need to touch you."

"Mark," Mom said, sighing.

"I need to." I licked my lips. "And not like when I put the oil on you. I need to touch you." I shut my eyes, my face clenching. I wasn't acting. "Jenna won't tease me like you do. She wants to give me the real thing. I need more from you, Mom."

I opened my eyes, but I didn't look at my mother. I stared down and to the left, the expression on my face a tangible mixture of shame, frustration, desire, and other emotions that left me feeling like a swelling ball of rage that would continue to grow until it burst.

Mom stared at me in silence.

A minute slipped into the past.

I almost looked up at her.

Another minute disappeared from my life.

"I'm going to Jenna," I said, turning around and walking toward the hallway cutting straight to the foyer. "This isn't working. Not the way you wanted it to work. I'm sorry."

"Mark," Mom said, her voice firm but not cold. There was a kind of resignation in her tone that warmed my blood. "Wait for me in the living room. Wait for me, no matter how long I take."

Not turning around, I nodded, and I walked to the living room and sat on the couch facing the TV, placing my phone on the armrest. Time went by, one minute, then two--my dick still hard. By the third minute, I had started tapping my right foot, my balls now aching. By the fourth minute, my left foot had joined my right, my knees rising and falling in unison. I breathed in deeply, taking in as much air as possible to calm myself, but it wasn't working. I looked toward the kitchen often for the next several minutes, and by the eighth minute, I stood and almost walked back to the kitchen, but Mom had said to wait, no matter how long she took.

Fuck.

God had not given horny eighteen-year-olds the patience to wait for sex. It was no wonder that so many of us got into trouble. I was ready to stand up again by the time half an hour had passed, but then I heard the soft tap of Mom's feet on the hallway's wooden floor.

I turned to the right, looking at my mother, who was coming out of the kitchen with a full glass of wine. I guessed it was not her first since I had left the kitchen, and maybe not her second. There was a soft glaze filming her eyes.

Mom stepped from the wooden foyer and down into the carpeted living room, walking around the far end of the couch. She sipped her wine and then walked forward, stopping in front of me. There was plenty of room between the couch and the coffee table--Mom didn't believe in clutter--and she stared down at me with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Mom?" I asked.

Mom licked her lips before saying, "If I let you touch my legs, you will not see Jenna."

"For today," I said. "I won't see Jenna for today."

Mom narrowed her brows.

"I promise." I tilted my head to the left and then rolled it to the right before straightening it. "Tomorrow too."

Mom inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a heavy sound. Was she trying to guilt me into changing my mind? It wasn't going to work. My mom--any mom--standing in front of their son while wearing a pair of tiny panties and a cropped tank top that hugged her tits like a second skin was not about to convince their sex-starved child that touching her wasn't in his best interest.

"Okay," Mom said. "Get off the couch."

I stood, looming over my mother. She brought her wine up to her lips and drank. Her green eyes found mine, and they didn't break contact. The stem of the wine glass tilted upward, the round base pointing at me as the wine disappeared into my mother's mouth. Every last drop of the wine ran down her throat before she turned to her left and moved away from me. Mom walked one step and then glided into the couch with a cat-like crawl, her right knee going up first, then her right hand. She braced herself as she set her wine glass down, the stretch of her arm and spine lifting her ass into the air. With her legs parted, that fabric capturing her pussy folds seemed to stretch, and she then brought her left hand and leg onto the couch and lay down on her stomach with her legs closed.

"Go ahead," Mom said. "Touch me."

"Anywhere," I said.

"No," Mom snapped. "Not anywhere."

"I mean anywhere that you aren't wearing clothes."

"My legs," Mom said. "My back and my sides. That's where you can touch me." Mom made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I'm still your mother." She gathered her hair and pulled it over her left shoulder. "Remember that."

"I know," I said. "No other woman could convince me not to see Jenna."

Mom's head turned as if she were about to look over her shoulder at me, but then she faced forward. She grabbed a couch pillow and rested her cheek on its softness. Her eyes faced the backrest, and then they closed. I took that as a sign to get in my feels.

There was no lotion this time, only skin-to-skin contact. I dropped to my knees, my hard-on hovering above the cushions and pointing at Mom's hip. I placed my left hand on the small of her back, the warmth of her skin flowing into my hand, and I felt the rise of goosebumps across her flesh. I placed my right hand on her left leg, the outside leg, above her ankle, and I stroked upward toward the back of my mother's knee.

Mom stiffened, and she drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a tremor. I spread my fingers along her calf, touching as much of her as possible, with my thumb pointed upward along her leg. At her knee, I rubbed her skin in a small circle, then I moved back down and then back up, pulling her leg toward the edge of the couch cushions. Mom resisted at first, but I increased my pressure, and slowly, I managed to get her to spread her legs for me. A narrow V opened up, pointing straight to the white cloth cupping her cunny meat. My eyes focused between her legs, and my cock throbbed, begging me to stick it right there as if I had a say in the matter.

In due time, I told my prick.

I rubbed my mother's lower back as I moved my hand to her other calf. My fingers tips pressed into her, and I slid my hand up to the hem of her crop top and around to her far side, giving her slender body a squeeze. Mom's breathing deepened, but she didn't tell me to stop touching her above her waist. I could tell that she was trying to control the volume of her breathing.

I moved my right hand back to her left calf and moved upward, stopping at her knee, moving down, then pushing back to her knee and moving above it. Mom tensed at the first touch of my fingertips along her inner thigh, my long digits curving inward toward the softer part of her leg.

She felt smooth and soft, but the deeper I pressed into her skin, the firmer her muscles grew. I moved my fingers to her right thigh, brushing her flesh with the backs of my fingers and then moving back to her left thigh, feathering her skin with my fingertips, almost tickling her, and doing my best to send pleasure through her body. A man was touching her between her legs. It had to feel good, right?

My eyes moved to the cloth that was cupping my mother's pussy, and I smiled when I saw the damp line outlining the length of her maternal slit. God, my father was lucky to have been inside her small hole. My cock pulsed. I bit back a moan as I took my hand from my mother's back and angled my body toward her head, making it easier for me to place my hands on the back of her thighs, just above her knees.

Licking my lips as my mother shivered, I pulled my hands upward, adding pressure to my fingertips. My digits were on the top of Mom's thighs, but my thumbs were on the insides, where Mom had to be the most sensitive. Before my fingertips could reach the bottoms of Mom's butt cheeks, I stopped my hands, but I rowed my thumbs along her inner thigh, massaging her and then caressing her far beyond the measure of a normal mother/son relationship.

God, my dick hurt. If only I could take it out.

I moved my hands higher.

"Mark," Mom said, her voice rushed. "My legs only."

"I know," I said as I slid my hands inward, down to her inner thighs, my fingertip about a quarter inch away from the start of her inner lips. I curled my fingers over my mother's flesh, pulling her skin hard enough to stretch the exposed layers of her outer folds further away from the cover of her panties.

"Mark," Mom gasped as her cunny lips slipped away from each other.

I stretched my fingers outward, getting closer to the heat radiating from between her thighs. I curled them again, watching as her pussy pulsed with my movements. Her lower lips puckered as I pushed inward, and they opened as I curled my fingers away from her center groove. I placed more pressure on my mother's thighs, forcing her right leg against the back of the couch and her left leg closer to the edge. The left side of her cunny showed more skin than her right side.

I curled my fingers again.

A soft moan escaped my mother's lips.

Sighing, I swept my hands up the backs of her thighs, and as my heart beat faster, I pushed upward, inching my fingers onto her bare butt cheeks and then over them. Mom whimpered. As I did this, I humped my hips forward, rubbing the underside of my cock against the couch. Pleasure shot through me. I humped the couch faster, pushing precum from my cock and pressing my fingers harder into my mother's ass--really making her feel my touch. Mom reached back with her hands, placing her fingers over mine, but I pushed upward anyway, not stopping until I held both of her firm hams in my palms with my thumbs resting along her crack.

A strange, helpless whine left my mother's lips.

"Mom," I said, talking without thinking, "can I jerk off on you?"

My heart stopped. Why had I asked her that question? What happened to taking my time? What happened to moving slowly? What happened to not shoving my head up my ass? I squeezed my Mom's butt hard, not knowing what to do, but I had to do something.

Mom pushed herself up into the Upward Dog yoga pose. Without saying a word, she slid her left leg from the couch and then her right, facing away from me, and she walked around the couch and up onto the foyer, and then up the stairs, her pear-shaped as swaying as she left me alone.

Fuck me!

I had fucked up.

The Game Changer

Can I jerk off on you?

That was such a stupid thing to ask my mother.

I sat on the couch, my mind empty and my cock raging hard, but I didn't bother touching it. I wanted to grab ahold of that big fucker. God damn it, I wanted to. A good jerk was something I could use right now. Why did we ever start this? Why did I let it get this far? Jenna's dad wasn't going to do anything to me. This was a big waste of time, and even worse--much worse--this had made things strange around my mother. What the fuck had she been thinking?

So much for pushing her, you pussy, my cock said to me, the accusation in his voice throwing shame at me from all directions. You fucking Momma's boy!

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I grabbed it--it was from my mother--and it read, Bring me a glass of wine.

My heart sped up, and a hollow boom echoed within my chest. I tingled all over. What did this mean? Was Mom going to end it? Or was Mom going to--

Get the wine, my cock shouted at me, and that's what I did, striding to the kitchen with long steps as my cock bobbed up and down and side-to-side. I grabbed her glass, made sure it was full, and jogged upstairs, aware of how hard and stiff my cock felt. How long it felt. How thick it felt. I was proud of my size, but at that moment, I didn't have a cock between my legs; I had a redwood that I was about to turn into a battering ram.

No. I slowed down as I reached Mom's bedroom door. Not a battering ram. What an asshole I could be--driving my mother to her room. I didn't know what was going to happen in my parents' bedroom, but I had pushed my mother as far as I was willing to, no matter what. (So I had thought at the time.) What had I been thinking? She was my mother.

My knuckles rapped against the door, the touch was soft, and the disruption of noise was barely noticeable. It didn't come open. Mom had shut it all the way, and when I tried the knob, I found it locked. I knocked again, harder than before, but not too hard--hard enough to make the door rattle a little. I wanted to knock harder, but my balled fingers hovered in front of the door, unable to move forward.

I was about to knock again when the door opened. First a crack, and then enough to reveal my mother in all her tank top and small panty-wearing glory. My cock, still hard, suffered an involuntary jerk that drew Mom's glassy eyes. I had the wine in my right hand, a chardonnay from an open bottle in the fridge. Mom raised her eyes, extended one swan-like arm, and plucked the glass from my hand, our fingers touching against the stem.

"All right," she said. "But, you can't go to Jenna after this." She paused. "For a week."

"All right, what?" I asked, my mouth going dry. The question was an honest one. All right, what? She couldn't be saying what I thought she was saying, not after walking away from me. All right, what? I only wanted to know.

"All right," Mom said, her eyes tightening, but her voice came out meek and resigned. "You can jerk off on me." Mom's eyes glanced downward again. "On my butt, over my panties."

Oh, those fucking words.

My cock jerked again, and this time the spasm registered on my face. Mom looked at me one more time--her little boy--and what I saw in her eyes told me that she didn't see her little boy anymore. I don't know what she saw, but it wasn't the child she had raised.

She turned around and walked deeper into the room. I watched her taut, pear-shaped ass roll with her strides. When she reached the bed, her right knee slid onto the mattress, parting her cheeks, followed by her left knee and her left right hand. Mom crawled across her bed, prowling, her knees sliding forward, and her white-clad pussy bulge rolling between her thighs. She held her wine held in her left hand, placing the glass on the nightstand next to her white bed, then she lay down and pulled her hair over her right shoulder and waited, on the bed, with her legs slightly parted and the line of her panties creating a beacon of brightness between her thighs.

Holy fuck.

I swallowed my gathering saliva as I walked across the threshold to my parents' bedroom. A tingle ran through my skin. This was my mother's room. My father's room. This is where my father slid his cock into my mother on a nightly basis. He'd go into her mouth or between her fingers, or up into the little hole between her legs and maybe the smaller one between her buns--no, my mother had to be an anal virgin. I was sure of it in the same way that a kid is sure that his mother is as pure as the Holy Spirit and always would be.

Until she lets her son jerk off on her butt.

I walked to her bed, my cock bobbing as it pushed against my shorts, creating a strain in the tip that ran down my shaft into its base. My prick had never been this hard before. I stopped at the edge of Mom's bed, breathing hard as my heartbeat rose and my skin tingled. There was a choice to be made here, and I made it, first pushing my basketball shorts down my legs and over my feet, and then, after a quick pause as my hairs stood on end, I pushed my boxer briefs down my thighs.

Oh, god, that felt good.

The heat of my cock met the coolness of my mother's sunlit room, soothing the numbing ache that had swollen my meat to monstrous proportions. I knew that I was big, but right now, I looked downright dangerous with this dick jutting out from below my waist and... my shirt. My shirt. I was standing only in my shirt, like some rapey-perv who was afraid to get naked. I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the floor as a shiver ran through me. I looked back down at my cock, and then at my mother, where she had buried her face in a white, satin-covered pillow.

Look at me, I thought, but Mom didn't move.

I climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath my weight and stalling my movements. After a quick pause to see what my mother would do--I don't know why I paused to see what she would do--I shuffled forward on my knees. When I reached her feet, I had a choice to make: Should I straddle my mother's thighs, or should I crawl between her legs? I thought for a second before I pushed my knees between her feet, forcing her to spread her legs open.

Mom's skin burned to the touch. My sack tightened with an airy lightness, though my balls felt the ache. I shuffled forward, keeping my knees pressed to my mother's skin, and she spread her legs wider and wider as I moved forward. As she opened her legs, her thighs parted, and that little hammock of white cupping the smooth tenderness of her cunny narrowed, allowing the swells of her outer lips to bulge outward. I needed to lick her. My eyes focused on the hollow dip that separated her inner thighs from her outer labia, and a sigh left my throat, which turned into a low moan when I saw the line of dampness darkening my mother's narrow slit.

The dampness was darker than before.

Holy shit.

I continued upward. My knees brushed Mom's knees, and then her thighs. She had to bend her left knee, pulling it up the bed, which tilted her hips upward and to the right, along with her upper body. Her head turned to the left, but she pulled the pillow with her, keeping the side of her face buried in it. I couldn't spread my mother's legs much more than they were, unless....

I nudged my mother's right thigh with my knee. She tried to move it to the side. I lowered my right hand, fingers pointing down, and I cupped her thigh near her pussy, giving it a push. Mom inhaled a shaky breath as the heat between her legs washed over my hand. I applied pressure to her leg, then squeezed her hot flesh, saying, "Come on, Mom, up you go."

Mom bent her right knee as her breathing grew harsher. She brought her leg up, which forced her ass up, and evened out her hips. She faced forward, pulling the pillow with her as she knelt in front of me in a low, frog-like squat that parted her ass cheeks and opened her muff to my eyes.

I uttered a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan.

Mom whimpered at my hungry sound.

What thoughts were running through her head? What did she think I was going to do to her?

My prick pointed straight ahead as I shuffled forward and pressed my knees beneath the small gap of space under my mother's thighs. I lowered my ass to my heels as Mom settled the weight of her thighs against mine. My cock, as hard as a steel pipe, hovered above her ass so close that the warmth of her body dampened my incest-craving dipstick.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I stared at the panty string running through my mother's crack, and in her low-frog-squat, I could see the golden spokes of her asshole in ultra-high definition. How small did her butthole have to be to remain hidden by that string? That string widened at her perineum, thicker nylon bracketing silk, but the damp flesh to the right and left of its center still lay exposed--so fucking sexy. Mom's pussy, with her legs spread and her body stretched forward as it was, pressed hard against her transparent panties, the lacy flower pattern covering and hiding the wet gap between her inner lips.

My cock swelled, or seemed to, rising upward and filling with a thickness that made me afraid for my knob. Was it about to burst? I stretched my left arm forward and took my mother by her hip. She shuddered as I squeezed her flesh hard, laying claim to what should have been my father's property. I lifted my right hand to my mouth, the palm facing upward, and I spit into my palm. Half a second later, I had my slippery fingers around my shaft, and a half-second after that, I was pumping my dick flesh hard enough to make my balls swing back and forth.

I squeezed my cock harder, fucking my fist while jerking my hand up and down my shaft. My balls slapped against my thighs; the lewdness of the smacking sounds sent tingles through the tip of my dick. I gripped my mother's hip harder, pressing my fingers into her, and as I rocked my body forward, fucking my fist, my thighs rocked into her thighs, which pushed her body forward. I had to pull her back against me, creating a pseudo fucking that soon had her panting.

"Huh-huh-huh," Mom uttered as her body moved back and forth.

"Fuck," I gasped and paused my stroking. I looked down, opened my mouth, and dropped some more spit onto my cock. Some caromed off my shaft and landed on my mother's ass. Moaning, I resumed jerking my dick above my mother's butt.

The line of her thong gleamed beneath my cock. If only I could take my knob and slide it through her crack. If only I could spank her small ass. If only I could.... I slid my hand from her hip around her thigh and onto her ass, palming the tender meat of her backside with my fingers pointing down. Mom, still taking the slapping of my thighs into hers, pushed back against me whenever I humped her little body forward. She was working hard to keep her head from hitting the headboard. My cock hand blurred, my fingers concentrating on my knob as pleasure shot through my shaft and buzzed around my balls.

"Oh, fuck, Mom," I moaned. "I'm close, Mom. I'm so fucking close."

Mom kept her face buried in her pillow, the slapping of our thighs growing in tempo and pitch. I squeezed her ass once more before I started sliding my fingers downward. Mom shook her head. Did she know what I had planned? Precum shot from my cock, landing on her right cheek, and I angled my hand down between her legs, cupping the crux of her left thigh--that hollow dip right next to her outer labia, my pinky edging her soft meat.

Mom moaned into her pillow, her butt shooting forward. I stood on my knees, still stroking, still holding her between her legs, refusing to let go, but I was still off to the side of her pussy. I wanted to touch that tender piece of pie between her legs. I wanted to hold her cunny in my palm and slide my fingers through her pudding-soft folds, spreading her lips open and touching the stickiness dripping out of her. But I couldn't do that. I could touch her where I was, outside of her panties, where her damp skin filled my hand, and my pinky lay against the tenderness of her labia, the heat between her legs sending electric pulses through my body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I panted, my orgasm closing in as the tip of my glans tingled with bliss. "I'm gonna come, Mom. Fuck, I'm gonna come on your ass, Mom." I stroked my shaft harder. "Gonna come on my mother's ass!" I tightened my grip around my pole while spreading my fingers and gripping my mother's thigh hard. My pinky swept outward, over her outer labia, brushing the nylon border of her panties. "Oh, fuck, Mom, I'm gonna come."

Tremors of pleasure shook my thighs, buzzing my groin and weakening my legs. My balls tightened and swelled. My shaft expanded, and a lightning rod of ecstasy electrified my glans, ringing my corona and traveling down my shaft into my sack. "I'm coming, Mom. I'm coming on you!"

My balls erupted, spewing a thick river of jizzy goo that swelled my urethra before shooting out of my cock and landing on my mother's buns. I looked down, aiming my cockhead between her cheeks and dumping load after load of hot, sticky cream into her crack. My cum splashed against her asshole, blending with her G-string, and I lowered my knob, spurting cum onto her perineum and flinging the last rope of jizz onto the cotton covering the softness of her pussy, never slowing my cock stroking.

"Mom, Mom, Mom," I whispered, my voice shaking as much as my body.

Aftershocks of pleasure rolled through my balls and slithered out of my piss slit, causing me to tremble. I squeezed Mom between her legs again, brushing the edge of her panties again and then again, the tip of my pinky pushing her skin inward as I tried to get under her nylon leg band. Her hand appeared between her legs from below, and she pushed my hand away with a frantic slap, then she cupped her cunny and protected it from me with a tight squeeze of her fingers. She trembled. I didn't fight her. Instead, I circled the base of my cock, pushing outward, and forcing the last of my cum onto the backs of her fingers.

Mom lowered her legs, and I shuffled backward off her bed. She turned her head to the left, breathing hard and keeping her eyes closed. The hand with my cum on it remained between her legs, her pussy resting on her wrist.

"Get out," Mom panted.

"Okay."

I turned to leave, and she said in a tired voice, "One week, Mark. You have to stay away from Jenna for one week."

"Jenna is willing to do this for me every day," I said. There were no limits now. "Every day, Mom."

"Get out!"

"I'll see you tonight."

I gathered my clothes and went to my room. Jenna would be expecting my call once she got out of school, and we had things to discuss. I wasn't about to break up with my girlfriend or stop seeing her, but dropping my load on my mother's ass had given me an idea. If a mother could convince her son to stay away from his girlfriend, what could a daughter do to convince her father to let her see her boyfriend?

Maybe I could have my mother and Jenna too.

Maybe.

A Plan for Jenna

"How come you aren't coming over?" Jenna asked.

I had my earbuds plugged into my phone while I spoke as softly as possible into the speaker. I had shut and locked my bedroom door before the start of the conversation, checking my hallway and making sure that my mother was still in her room, which she must have been since I hadn't seen her downstairs or in the backyard. Even so, I had turned my computer on, clicked on my music, and set the volume to low.

"I'm easing my mother's worry," I said, smiling into my phone's camera. "We'll be together soon, I promise."

"Let me see it," Jenna whispered.

Sighing--on the inside--I swung my phone away from my face and toward my cock, where my dick stood big, hard, and swollen with the memory of my mother's body running through its head. On her side of the phone, Jenna sat naked, with her phone on a stand and her hairless-from-the-eyebrows-down body on full display for my hungry gaze. Jenna always gave me a hard-on, but this particular hard-on was still the result of coming on my mother's ass, which had given me an idea.

Would Jenna buy into it?

Hopefully.

"Mmm," Jenna moaned for me. "That looks so yummy. I want to lick it."

I groaned and said, "Soon, baby, I promise."

"Now," she pouted.

"Soon."

"No, now," Jenna pouted again, her voice taking on a little girl's whine. "I'll call you Daddy."

"That's hot," I said. Had Mom ever called Dad, Daddy? "Speaking of Daddies...."

Jenna rolled her eyes. She lay on her left side, with her legs extended and her left hand propping her head up. Her tits, in all their teenage perkiness, stayed tight to her chest, though the side of her left breast pressed into her mattress' comforter. Unlike Mom, Jenna had no hair between her thighs, and only the smooth triangle of her mound was visible as her thighs lay one atop the other.

"My dad still says, 'You're too young for sex.'" Jenna groaned and turned onto her back, her tits shaking and settling on her chest, their bases spreading out. "If I'm too young for sex, then how come that's all my pussy can think about? I'm eighteen!"

I groaned again and said, "I have an idea. It's kinky, but it may help take our relationship to the next level."

"Yeah?" Jenna turned back onto her side. "Does it involve me spreading my pussy for you?" She smiled, first big and playful, but then her lips spread outward, turning sly. Her eyes drew my eyes' focus, and she licked her lips for the camera. "Does it, Daddy?"

"It does now." I shook my head. "Well, maybe later, but my idea focuses on convincing your dad to let you give up the pussy."

Jenna laughed, looking down between her legs. "The pussy, huh? Do you think he'll say, 'Hey, Jenna, I think it's about time for you to give up the pussy'?"

I waited for her laughter to end before I said, "Not in those words. Are you going to listen to me or laugh at me?"

"Both?" Jenna laughed. "Can I play with myself while you talk about my dad?"

Her words poured out of her mouth with a thick, honey-like sweetness that fed naughty thoughts through my ears--a merry-go-round of Jenna's tits, her round ass, her pink pussy, and her white-toothed smile enticed me to slip into her body. Ah, fuck, but I had no willpower.

"Yes," I said. "You can play with yourself."

"You jerk off too."

I nodded, thinking, Don't be angry with me, Mom. I'm just jerking off.

Jenna turned on her bed, her feet facing her camera and her head disappearing as she lay back on her mattress. She dug her heels into her comforter, pulling her body closer to the camera with her knees open and her thighs pointing the way to her pink-slitted clam. When she got as close to the camera as she could, she grabbed a pillow and placed it under her head, and then another, propping herself up enough to view her phone's screen and me within it.

I could see her pussy, her inner thighs, her spreading butt cheeks, and the bottom of her crack as it disappeared against her comforter. Her stomach led the way to the bottoms of her tits, capped by thick, juicy-pink nipples and then her blonde, Barbie doll face. Looking into her blue eyes, I thought, I hope my plan works.

"Let me see that big cock," Jenna purred. "I miss playing with it."

I moaned, keeping my voice as low as possible. I held my phone in my left hand, as far below my cock as I could reach so Jenna could look at my cock while I admired her snatch. The position was going to be awkward, so I grabbed a book from my nightstand, and after a minute, I managed to prop my phone up between my legs in a position similar to Jenna's.

"Do you miss the taste of my pussy?" Jenna asked as she used her index fingers to pull her little lips apart, forming a pair of dewy butterfly wings split by the line of her slit and capped by her clit's swollen jewel.

"Yes," I whispered as a line of white cream formed between the meeting place of Jenna's pink pussy walls.

Jenna collected the cream with her right middle finger and brought it to her lips. Her tongue flicked out, the point pushing against her cunny honey and brushing upward, gathering the juices and pulling them into her mouth.

"Fuck," I hissed, grabbing my cock and stroking it from its balls to its tip.

"What's your plan?" Jenna asked. Her fingers had moved to her breasts, wetting her nipples and twisting the thick nubs between her thumbs and forefingers. "What's your plan for my daddy?

"I'll tell you after we come," I said, stroking my cock harder as precum lathered my mushroom cap in a clear, slippery liquid.

"No," Jenna pouted. "Tell me now."

"Okay," I said, still stroking my prick. "Your dad thinks--mmm--that he can keep you from fucking me, but--oh, yeah, show me that pink, baby--does he think it's going to keep you from--oh, fuck, you're wet--from getting horny?"

Jenna shook her head, then asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I said, breathing hard as my forearm started to burn, "what if he saw how sexual you became when he keeps you away from me?"

"How about with you?" Jenna moaned, sliding two small fingers into the slippery hole between her legs. "That would be hot if he caught us again."

"No, not with me, but that would be hot." I took a deep breath. "I meant, in general. What if he saw how horny you got when you're not having any kind of sex?"

"Keep talking," Jenna panted.

"What if you teased him?" I couldn't tell her that my mother was teasing me, could I? No, I couldn't--

"Oh, you nasty pervert," Jenna whimpered. "You sick fuck. I love it."

"You need to dress as sexy as possible around your house."

Jenna's moans grew louder as her fingers worked her clit hard and pussyhole deep, making wet, sloshy sounds that tightened my balls.

"Short shorts and tank tops," I said. "Tight shirts without a bra. Make sure your nipples are hard." I moaned, stroking my dick faster. "Leave your shower robe open around the house."

Jenna moaned, nearly sobbing as she finger-fucked her pussy with growing speed.

"Wear loose shorts without panties." Would she? "And let him see up the leg holes."

"Oh, yeah," Jenna moaned. "I could sit on his lap, too."

I moaned.

"I could make him think that I'm going crazy without your cock in me." Jenna's pussy glistened with her juices. "And I am, baby. I need your big fucking dick in my pussy so bad!"

She did, I could see that, as much as I needed her pussy--as much as we needed to be together. After we had come, Jenna needed to come again. This time she turned around, getting on her knees and showing off her slit from behind. We talked about her father and how nasty it would be for her to tease him with her precious teen body. By the time she had come, her pussy was a dripping mess of sticky honey and yummy creamy.

"I'm going to do it," Jenna said afterward. "I'm gonna tease the fuck out my father, and he's gonna let me have your dick. It's showtime, baby."

I laughed, thinking, God damn it, Mom, what have you started?

Downstairs with Mom

I left my room about an hour after talking to Jenna with an idea of what I would do when I saw Mom again--inspired by Jenna creaming to the notion of teasing her father. I stepped lightly and quickly, with my tablet in my right hand, as I headed downstairs. I had dressed in a pair of loose, black basketball shorts and a body-fitting workout shirt of matching color. The downstairs was as dark as I had hoped, with the light coming from the television in blinking spurts of white, gray, and darker, mood-setting atmospherics. Dad lay on the couch to the right of Mom, swallowed by its size with his head on a pillow, and Mom sat on the back couch, her flaxen hair shining, despite the darkness.

My footfalls barely registered to my ears, but there was no way they'd reach Mom or Dad over the explosions and shell bursts of the war movie they were watching. When I rounded my side of the back couch, Mom turned her head, the surprise on her face making me smile as much as her outfit did. Had she expected me sooner or not at all? It didn't matter, because now I was there.

Mom had dressed as though she had expected me. She wore a tight, gray tank top, low cut with three pink buttons in the center of her chest. If she undid those buttons, the halves would spread under the pressure of trying to contain her breasts and reveal her twin mounds almost to her nipples. Her shirt had a pink, lacy trim, as did her gray boy shorts. They were small shorts, the kind that a teenage girl might wear despite being too small for her body. The smallest portion of Mom's butt would hang out if she stood, showing off that smile at the bottom of her cheeks--the crease that formed where her hamstring met the meat of her ass. The shorts were small but not tight, and the leg holes didn't lay flush against her thighs. At the right angle, they'd hide nothing from my prying eyes.

As dirty thoughts passed through my head, my cock thickened, begging me to take a look between my mother's legs as quickly as possible.

"Did you take a pill tonight, Dad?" I asked, sitting down on the cushion next to Mom.

"Why, are you afraid I'm going to sleep down here, and you won't get the TV?" Dad asked, then yawned. "Yeah, I took a pill."

"Just asking," I said. "You won't mind if I talk to Mom while you watch your movie? We were talking about colleges today, and I've been looking at some and--"

"Whisper," Dad said. "Whisper, and let me fall asleep."

"You got it," I said.

"Colleges?" Mom asked, looking at me as the TV's light danced over her face, striking like lightning as the scenes changed. Her tone may as well have said, Is that best you could come up with: Colleges?

I shrugged, and Mom looked back at the TV. I hit my tablet's touchscreen and opened a text file. I thought for a moment before I typed, Are you upset about this afternoon?

After studying the words for another minute, I slid my tablet over to Mom and said, "Have a look at this one."

Mom turned her head toward the tablet. She puckered her lips, then took it from my hands and read what I had written. She took her time, and I slid closer to her, my shoulder and thigh almost touching her.

I watched as Mom raised her right hand and brushed her fingertips across the tablet's border. She took even breaths, then her fingers typed, punching the keys with quick strikes, hitting backspace, then moving more slowly. I didn't read her words so much as I watched her graceful fingers poke at the keyboard.

She handed the tablet back to me, and it read, I don't know.

Oh, man, how was I supposed to work with that? I typed back, You didn't say no, and I handed Mom the tablet.

I know, Mom typed and handed it back to me.

I moved closer to Mom, placing the tablet between us, resting it on our thighs, my right, her left. I typed, I had fun. I paused, my fingers hovering over the soft keyboard. I would have been with Jenna today if you hadn't let me do that. I took my fingers away, placing them below the tablet on the side of my upper thigh. The backs of my knuckles were close to Mom's skin beneath her shorts--so close I could feel the warmth of her body.

Mom typed, and I read, That doesn't make it right.

But it makes me safe, doesn't it?

Before Mom could answer me, I opened another window, clicked on a picture folder, and brought up a picture of Jenna in a tiny, emerald bikini that lay plastered on her skin like a hentai drawing. The upper and lower swells of her breasts were on display while her nipples poked against the green nylon of her bikini bra as if green were her nipple's natural color. She was on her knees, sitting back on her heels with her thighs spread. The V of her legs narrowed toward her teenage cunny, where the thickness of her meaty, outer labia bulged outward from her panty's triangular covering. And beneath the green fabric, every fold of my girlfriend's pussy pressed against her panties, projecting her labia with three-dimensional craftsmanship.​