Incest/Taboo Brushing Mom's Hair

I began lapping and licking between Mom's cheeks, poking inside her slit, wiggling my tongue around and around, then dragging it out and up her perineum, shoving my flattened tongue between her cheeks and over her musty bunghole. You should have seen how she wriggled her ass on my face. She loved it!

I wrapped my arms around her thighs and lifted her until her ass was level with my face. Mom was leaning almost level over the counter now, head lying on crossed arms, tits dangling over the edge and hanging down, swaying. I plunged back in.

I licked and lapped and shoved my tongue inside her, flailing around in her pussy, pulling out for brief trips up to her asshole and a quick lick before returning to her center. My fingers stretch up her inner thighs until their tips reached her pussy lips, and pulled them apart so I could get my tongue deeper inside her, shaking face wiggling my snake until her juices flowed over my tongue and prying fingers. Her cunt began to quiver uncontrollably, having a seizure on my tongue, her cheeks jiggling all over my face.

As her orgasm subsided, I withdrew my tongue and dragged it along the trail from her pussy to her ass one last time, for a final goodbye lick. But I changed my mind at the last second, the instant the tip of my tongue found her vibrating pucker, and I forced my tongue through her sphincter.

Well, she just exploded. Her ass quivered violently and her thighs shook in my arms, legs tensing as her toes stretched out, trying to reach the floor. I could feel her pussy oozing fluid again as she trembled to another intense orgasm. She cried out.

I froze. My arms loosened, allowing Mom's feet to fall to the floor and while she finished her orgasm, toes holding her quivering legs as she leaned over the bathroom counter. I turned my face to the door, waiting for my father to burst in.

And waited, but he didn't come. I struggled to my feet and waited some more but he still didn't come. Then my ears detected a familiar sound. His snore. I strained for confirmation. Was I kidding myself?

No. He was snoring, regularly but more quietly than usual.

Mom was still regaining her breath, panting on the counter. I turned and pulled the thick bath mat from where it was draped over the edge of the tub and spread it on the floor before grasping Mom's waist and gently pulling her away from the counter. She complied without resistance and I guided her to the ground until she was lying on her side, her legs curled up. I pushed on the back of her right thigh, opening her legs and leaning her slightly forward onto her tummy. I wrapped my hand around her hip and reached down to cup her wet pussy, pulling her up and back, inserting my knee between hers and guiding my cock into her open, wet cunt.

I slid in, partly shoving and partly pulling her back until she was impaled on my pole. I didn't waste any time. Keeping my hand wrapped over her hip and pussy, I grasped a long braid with the other so she wouldn't slide away from me, and started fucking her. Fucking my mom on her bathroom floor with my father sleeping in his bed not a dozen feet away. Fuck, it was gloriously hot.

I rammed into her, my hips slapping against her behind. I wasn't worried about noise now. I was confident my father wouldn't wake up, even without the pill. I wanted to fuck my mom, hard. And I did. I made her body shake all over the mat, back and forth with every shove, every thrust.

Despite my hard thrusts, I could feel her wonderful pussy all the way in, glorying in long strokes to sense the minute variations in texture all along her silky wet channel. And regardless of my lunging fucks, and the way I gripped her so she couldn't avoid my frenetic onslaught, Mom fucked me back, gripping and releasing, clutching my ramming shaft with her feminine muscle, like a snake working me inside a one-way tunnel only to quickly reverse, expelling my intruder, then suck him in again.

Somehow she managed to bend her waist and cock her hip, swiveling her ass up toward me, demanding that I shove into her even harder, her head twisting around to look at me, her wild eyes confirming her need for more.

Her rampant desire triggered my release. I had barely started banging her harder when my sperm spewed inside her, flooding her cunt. I fell on top of her.

"Mine, ... you're mine," I gasped, hips lurching, cock squirting my seed.

I continued to lie on Mom until the last gob of jiz was squeezed into her pussy. By that time, she was flat on her tummy, legs spread, my cock still shoved in deep. When my last squirting lunge was barely a twitch, Mom pushed back at me, twisting onto her side, and pulled away.

She stood, faced the sink and ran the water. I lay on my back and watched as Mom soaked a facecloth and cleaned her pussy, then stepped over to grab a towel to dry herself. She stooped down and kissed me, fingers trailing over my face, then stood and walked into the bedroom. I heard her slip under the covers and the room was silent except for Dad's gentle snore. I got up, pulled my pajamas on, turned out the bathroom light, and picked my way through the darkness to my room.

The next day was Mother's Day.

I slept in. Mom and Dad were already downstairs and were just finishing breakfast when I stumbled into the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Mom was a picture of wholesome health but the girlish braids were unable to hide her underlying sexual maturity. She wore a khaki hiking outfit with a loose-fitting shirt made of that quick-dry material and a matching pair of shorts. The the shorts fit snugly around her hips and bottom and though the legs were a little loose they were quite short, resting high atop legs that were bare down to a pair of hiking boots with socks peeking just an inch above.

"It's about time you got up lazybones," Mom greeted me cheerily. "I've been waiting for you for an hour to take me for a picnic."

"Picnic?"

"Yes. It's Mother's day and I want you to take me up to Old Baldy, to our secret family viewpoint."

Mom was referring to the outcropping below the viewpoint on our local mountain. It was about an hour's hike to the viewpoint and there was a moss-covered rock below it that gave almost as good a view but was much better for a picnic because hardly anyone bothered to scramble down the rocky trail to it. The thought of spending hours alone with Mom on a private, mossy rock appealed to every bone in my body, and one in particular.

"Hurry up, now," Mom urged. "Get something to eat while I finish making our lunch."

Obediently, I rushed to pour myself some cereal.

"Where's Dad?" I asked.

"Having his coffee outside. Quickly now."

I finished my breakfast in record time and Mom rushed me upstairs to get dressed. I did that in a hurry too and ran down the stairs to find Mom waiting by the door, a couple of small backpacks stuffed and ready to go. I could hardly wait to get her up that mountain.

"Don't forget your Dad," Mom said, pointing to the backyard.

"Right." I rushed through the kitchen to say goodbye to Dad, leaning through the backdoor with one hand pressed against the inside wall, "Dad."

Dad's head spun around and he got up from his chair, coffee cup in hand. I was about to say goodbye when his attire stopped me.

"Ready?" Dad asked. He was wearing the same hiking outfit Mom had on.

I nodded, speechless.

"About time," Dad said, brushing past me through the door. "Emily, you ready?" he called out.

"Waiting for you," Mom shouted back.

Fuck!

So off we went. Dad drove and an hour later we arrived at the trailhead. He and I carried the packs. The only good part was that he led the way and I followed Mom, eyes on her sexy behind all the way. We passed a few people on the way, going up and down, and two couples at the lookout. We hung around looking at the view until the others left, which took about fifteen minutes. After Dad was sure they were gone and nobody else was coming, we carefully picked our way down around the bluff. Our preferred site was empty. We had it all to ourselves.

Mom pulled a large blanket from one of the packs and spread it over the moss. Our lunch was emptied from the other pack and we sat down to enjoy the view while we ate. It was a beautiful sunny day. Dad finished eating first and leaned back on his elbow to relax. Mom and I were still sitting, she with her legs crossed, me with my elbows resting on my knees. After a few minutes, Dad arranged one of the packs under his head and lay on his back. Mom and I continued to take in the view, finishing our lunch in silence.

Mom finished her sandwich and tipped her water bottle up to take a long drink. I took the opportunity to watch the way her shirt stretched over her small breasts. I was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra. Mom tipped the bottle up too high and water spilled outside her mouth, running down her neck. She jerked the bottle down and pulled it away from her mouth, lifting one arm to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. I continued admiring her front and she smiled at me. I wasn't worried about Dad. His head was out of sight behind Mom's back but I was pretty sure his eyes were closed. Disappointment welled up inside me again as I thought about how wonderful this would have been with just the two of us.

Mom put her bottle down and started brushing crumbs from her legs. Her action was quite mechanical but that changed when she looked up to see me watching her closely. Then, she stretched one leg out, leaving the other with its foot curled underneath the thigh of the outstretched leg. Now, more slowly, she continued to brush away crumbs, though I couldn't see any. Brush ... brush ... brush. Her movements became more languid, more sensual, her fingertips removing unseen crumbs from the very tops of her thighs, seemingly to be found all on the inside. Mom batted her eyelids.

"Do you have any water left?"

I replied that I did, looking down at the water bottle she had set down on the blanket, still half full. Nevertheless, I retrieved my bottle and held it out to her, but she ignored it, continuing to brush away phantom crumbs. I unscrewed the lid and offered the bottle again but Mom still ignored it. Changing my position to lean close to her, I held my bottle to Mom's lips.

She drank. A small sip. I held the bottle an inch away for a few seconds, then offered it to her again. Mom took another sip but this time she spilled some from her mouth, letting it run down her chin and onto her thighs below. I was surprised because I had barely tipped the bottle and she could have easily handled what spilled into her mouth.

Mom looked at the water on her thighs, then at me. Carefully, I secured the cap on my water bottle and set it down in the moss behind me. Turning back to Mom, I put out one hand to lean on and stretched the other over her lap, looked into her eyes, and dropped it onto her wet thighs. The way Mom's eyes smoldered, she could have looked down and dried her legs with a single glance. Despite the water, her thighs were hot from the sun.

I slid my hand over Mom's thighs, spreading the warm water around. It was soon gone. I held Mom's gaze the whole time my hand rubbed her inner thighs. Her only reaction was to open her legs to allow me all the room I needed to do my job. My fingers slowly inched higher as they rubbed and I was soon stretching my fingertips under the leg of Mom's shorts. Still, she held my eyes.

I curled my fingers back and moved my hand closer, then stretched my fingers out, but not under the leg of her shorts. Instead, I brushed my knuckles against the outside, in the puffy center where her pouting pussy pushed up from the inside. Mom's mouth opened in surprise and a small gasp escaped past her lips. I teased her for several minutes, finding her groove and brushing my knuckles up and down inside it, then turning my hand around and rubbing my finger up and down and then sideways back and forth.

I smiled. How glorious to feel the sun on my back and my mother's pussy in my hand. I forgave her for allowing my father to join us on our day. What a special mother, to sit with her husband lying behind her with legs spread wide open, offering her pussy to her son. I nodded my head, flashing my eyes over her shoulder. She looked back, then returned her eyes to mine, nodding.

I raised my hand, watching disappointment spread over Mom's face as her pussy was left alone. But the disappointment was replaced with anticipation when my fingers freed a couple of buttons from her shirt and slipped inside to slither over her waiting tit, briefly fondling her already extended nipple, twisting around to slip underneath, lifting the weight of her breast as my thumb scraped down to flick her hard nipple, the silent cry on her lips an added reward.

We were both startled by the sudden appearance of my father's hand on Mom's shoulder pulling her back, down toward him. Awkwardly, Mom complied and was soon lying on her back next to Dad, his arm curled under her neck so his hand could hold hers, her neck fitting into the crook of his elbow. I could see Dad's face now, eyes still closed, chest heaving a sigh of satisfaction.

I watched my parents for several minutes. Mother looked worried, lying stiffly in Dad's arm, her open shirt a testimony that she might have been doing something more than taking in the view. Father, for his part, looked for all intents and purposes to be asleep. He hadn't changed his position or expression after that first satisfied exhalation.

Mom's legs were now both stretched out. I moved my hand toward her open thighs. The movement caught her attention and her look so clearly warned me away I could almost see her head shake. Mom glared as my hand slipped between her thighs and her legs closed to inhibit its advance but she wasn't quick enough. Though my hand was now trapped my fingers were pressed against her warm spongy pussy. I couldn't move my hand but I could press my fingers and I did just that, pulsing them against her puffy lips, again, and again, and again.

Mom glared at me as she lay in Dad's arm, my hand working between her legs. I could understand her reaction. If he opened his eyes, we were done. I was my own behavior that was amiss. Nevertheless, I continued and in a matter of minutes Mom's glare softened and was replaced by a glazed look. In that moment her legs relaxed, loosening their hold on my manipulating fingers. Immediately, I began to rub her pussy in longer strokes, though still soft and gentle. Her legs opened wider.

I aligned my fingers with her damp crevice and wiggled my fingertips, turning a faint line into shallow trench. I shifted closer so I was lying beside Mom, my hand reaching under the bottom of her partly raised thigh to keep my pliant fingers pressed into the ever deepening split dividing her mound. Confident in the knowledge of her acceptance, I slipped my hand up to her waist and quickly unsnapped her shorts with a quick twist of my fingers, my retreating fingertips blazing a trail parting the thin material of her quick-dry shorts. Now only her panties separated me from her damp pussy hair. When I reached the bottom of her mound, I pushed my fingers under, inside her legs, between her panties and shorts. So hot and wet.

Dad's arm straightened and flopped to the side, almost hitting me in the head. He was dozing off. A moment later, I grabbed Mom, a hand on each hip, and tugged her down on the blanket and off Dad's arm. I waited for Dad to settle into his new position. Mom didn't resist when I turned her hips toward Dad, pushing her onto her side with her bottom facing me. She was lying awkwardly on one hip but twisted with her back still flat on the ground.

My hand slipped down from her hip, sliding over her bottom, cupping and caressing her buttocks. Though a forbidden touch, it was platonic compared to the teasing scrapes across the front of her shorts moments earlier. Mom relaxed as Dad's breathing deepened and my hand maintained its relatively innocent exploration of her bottom. Perhaps due to my more muted appreciation, or because of her awkward position, Mom turned fully onto her side. I pushed on her right cheek, twisting her slightly forward, then slipped my hand between her legs, snug against the bottom of her pussy and pressed my thumb between her cheeks.

I started gently but regularly pressing and squeezing. Mom swung her hand behind her in a half-hearted attempt to push mine away, to no avail. After several swings, she let her hand fall along the outside of her thigh where it stayed, emphasizing the curve of her hip. After a few minutes of my squelching action, I used my free hand to tug Mom's shorts down until, with a quick motion, I pulled my hand back and slid it back into place, but this time between her shorts and her bare ass and pussy.

"Ohhhhhhh," Mom moaned aloud, then turned her face into the blanket. Her only protest was to push her ass toward me, as if pleading for more.

So be it. I slipped two fingers into her soaking cunt, producing a muffled, "Unnnngghhhhhhh."

Splooook, sploook, sploooook. I pushed my fingers in and out, varying my timing and speed, loving the way her ass would reach back when my return was delayed and the way her channel clamped down, sucking me inside, trying to keep me there, fighting my exit and providing a veritable hero's welcome when my fingers returned.

I don't know why she seemed surprised and struggled when she felt my cock entering her slippery hole. She must have known I couldn't settle for just my finger, that I would fuck her despite the danger and the total absence of any defense should my father awaken. But she did fight my entry and rather than put me off it excited me to no end. The way her butt twisted and shook, first trying to evade me and then to shake me off, was an incredible turn on.

What an exciting fuck! I grasped her longer braids, pressing into her back to hold her still but I couldn't stop her twisting hips. Though her upper torso was still, her butt bucked like a little bronco, lifting off the blanket, emphasizing its shape relative to her narrow waist. Yeah, I thought, fuck that. Fuck that! She wound me up much quicker than I wanted. I had envisioned a long, slow, careful fuck that wouldn't disturb Dad but before I knew it I was lunging into her backside and cumming, blasting my spunk inside her, my hard bare cock spewing into her unprotected cunt.

I collapsed on her back and then fell over onto my back. Recapturing my breath, I reached down to pull my shorts up, opening my eyes to the bright afternoon sun, raising my hand to block its glare. There, high above, on the bluff overlooking ours, two people were looking down. Quickly, I looked over at Mom lying on her chest, hips raised to allow her hands underneath to refasten her shorts. I looked back, seeing more clearly now, a woman and a younger man, smiling down at us.

I sat up and was surprised to see that Dad was no longer lying on his back but had turned onto his side, facing away from us. I hadn't been aware of his movement. Mom twisted around and sat up too.

"We should go," I said.

"Yes," she answered, turning to shake Dad's shoulder. He awoke with a start and we were soon packed up and on our way.

On the trail back, Dad led the way and seemed to be in a hurry. We had only gone about a third of the way back before we caught up to three people, a family like ours. Dad hiked quickly past them but Mom recognized the woman and stopped to say hi. Evidently, they were casual acquaintances who exchanged pleasantries at the local gym.

I recognized her as the woman who had been looking down at us from the bluff and the young man as her companion. He was watching me, a smug smirk on his face. It was disconcerting, to say the least. The woman glanced at me several times while she and Mom talked. Noticing, Mom introduced me as her son. The woman greeted me with a smile quite unlike that of her son's. We left after that. Mom turned away first and the woman regarded me with a very frank appraisal. As I hurried to catch up to Mom, walking briskly in a effort to catch up to Dad who hadn't stopped, I thought about the woman and how fine her body was despite her plain face. There was something about her that said, 'Take the time, you won't regret it.'

I couldn't stop thinking about that woman all the way home -- except for the parts where Mom's shorts emptied my head of any other thoughts. She and Mom knew each other, and she and her son had seen us. What if she said something to people that knew Mom? Mom had no idea we had been observed. Shouldn't I tell her? I was quiet on the ride home, and so were Mom and Dad.

It was still Mother's day or, at least, Mother's night.

We had a brief pit stop at home for everyone to get showered and changed and then we were off to Mom's favorite restaurant for dinner. Mom wore a conservative frilly white blouse with black slacks, mentioning that her legs were too scratched up from the hike to wear a dress. The blouse was made of a delicate material and Mom wore a camisole underneath for extra protection but I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra; there was too much intriguing motion for that to be the case. Even though our afternoon bout had only been over for an hour or so, it was hard to sit next to Mom without admiring her or trying to sneak the odd clandestine touch. But I had to because my father was uncharacteristically alert and attentive.

Dinner was dragged out by dessert and coffee despite the fact that neither I nor Dad wanted anything. When we finally arrived home, I was tired from the strain of the evening but both Mom and Dad were showing no sign of wear or tear. Of course, that was understandable for Dad. I surmised that Mother's day must be a special evening for my parents and resigned myself to the fact that there would be no further extracurricular activities for me that day. I watched part of a movie with them and said goodnight. I would have to find a way to discuss the woman we'd met hiking the next day before I went to school so Mom was pre-warned should they encounter each other, or someone they both knew.

I had the wildest dreams that night. That woman was on me, fulfilling the implied promise of rapturous sex. She had started by somehow sneaking under my covers at the foot of my bed, licking my soles, dragging the tip of her stiffened tongue along the sensitive underside of my arches, sucking my toes into her mouth one at a time before trailing kisses and nibbles up my legs. Her tongue flicked between my thighs, digging deep to get under my balls. I tried to grab her head to pull it up so I could shove my cock down her throat but her incredibly strong hands gripped my wrists, holding them by my sides.

She teased me mercilessly, slathering my balls with her tongue, then snaking it up my shaft. It was so long, in this dream world, that it curled right around my lovestick and it seemed to take ages for her to reach the top despite steady progress -- I was far longer in my mind that reality would support. She was finally there, licking my head, drooling copious quantities of saliva before enveloping my cock with her cavernous mouth, sliding all the way down until her lips smashed into my curlies, shaking her head in a futile attempt to force an early ejaculation.

I still couldn't free my hands to get hold of her head. I desperately wanted hold her still, to take control, to shove my cock deep into her face, but she was too strong. How? She was no bigger than my mother. And how was it that I could see her face so clearly, my cock shoved down her throat, when I was lying on my back and she was still under the covers? Ahhh, in a dream, anything can happen.

How fantastic her lips felt dragging up my shaft, how exquisite her tongue slipping along the underside of my cock, how lovely the squeeze of her mouth around my tip and the tickling squish of new saliva before she forced herself down until I banged on the door of her throat again. God, again and again. How could a woman suck a cock so well, a married, family woman? I couldn't help it. I was going to cum. It was too late to warn her, it was already gushing into my tube.

PAIN. Fuck! She was squeezing my balls. Shit. Owwww. Why did she do that?

Her mouth was off me, she was clambering up under the covers, her knees shifting in jerks along my sides.

"Not yet," she cried. "It's still MOTHER's day!"

What? I started to protest, to complain about not being able to cum, to explain that I was younger than her husband and could still service her well, but my mouth was suddenly covered by pussy. Excited and pungent cunt mashed against my face, filling my nose with the scent of overheated womanhood. Now it was my head that was held in a vice-like grip.

"Lick me," she gasped, her thighs squeezing my chest as she was riding a pony bareback, knees digging into the mattress to help her hips lever her cunt against my face. "Lick me," she repeated. "Eat me!"

I had no choice. I thrust my tongue out, making it as stiff as possible, hoping it would titillate her ravaging pussy sufficiently to end this cuntal attack soon. She was moving frantically now, banging my face, forcing me deep into the pillow, her thighs spreading wide to follow me down. I gasped for breath, sucking air through my nose.

"Yes ... yesss ... yessss!" she yelled.

This was no dream. This was real. And this was no dream woman, it wasn't even another mother. This was my mother. My Mom ... raping my face.

I was suddenly bathed in a gush of pussy fluid. Soaking, rubbery lips slid over my nose and back across my lips, pushing onto my chin, flooding my neck. Mom was gasping and moaning, her hips bucking out of control, slowing slowly, broken by small jerks and shudders, until finally, she was still.

I lifted my arms and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her, shifting her down, aided by her straightening legs, until she was lying on top of me, heaving chest pushing hard, steel-tipped nipples into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, clutching her sweaty body to mine, running my fingers through her wavy hair. The braids were gone. I hugged her until her breath returned to normal, gently stroking her hair, her back, kissing the top of her head, slipping my hand down to slide over the curve of her ass.

Only when her breathing was completely normal did she speak to me.

"Put your cock in me," she whispered, lifting her hips so I could rise up and find her. "It's still Mother's day and I want you to fuck me, like this, the way I want it."

What could I do? Ever the dutiful son, I found her wet, sloshy hole and shoved my cock inside, working hard. When I tired of lifting her weight, she took over, sitting up, lifting herself almost off and dropping down with a thud and an extra push, sometimes wrenching her clutching pussy around on my root, almost painfully.

"Do you like that?" she husked. "A little rough?" she shoved herself down and churned hard. When I tried to pull her down to me, she grabbed my hair and forced my head down, gritting her teeth, fucking hard. "Huh?" she cried. "This will teach you for fucking me right beside your father."

She rode me roughly until I was exhausted and just lying there. It was an intense cum. I couldn't move but wouldn't have anyway. I loved the feel of her used body draping over mine, her thighs spread over my hips, her pussy still covering my cock even though it had slipped out of her minutes ago. She reached behind herself to grasp my hands from where they were clasped around her waist, resting in the small of her back. Pulling them apart, she pushed them down and up the rise of each buttock, guiding my fingers into the crevasse separating her cheeks.

Mom pushed the longest finger of my right hand in, pressing until its tip brushed over her little brown asterisk, the crinkly entrance to her dark hole. Visions of the wildly exciting ride on her ass that afternoon burst into my head. What was she hinting at? Was she really suggesting what I thought? Her hand rubbed my fingers back and forth across her rosebud, hard enough that it dug in a little.

"Your Dad asked me to do something special for you on Father's day," she whispered.

WHAT? My mind swirled like a tornado, making my head dizzy. What?

I blacked out.
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