Incest/Taboo Hey Mom, Look

"Can I look at yours?" I asked.

"Help yourself," Mom replied.

I reached under my magazine which Mom was holding in front of her and grabbed Mom's, twisting it around to face me. I pulled it toward me so I could see it under mine, until it slid off Mom's skirt, and fell onto her crossed calves. I let it go, allowing it to rest on her legs and mine, using my now free hands to hook Mom's hem with my thumbs and push her skirt higher on her thighs. The looseness of her skirt allowed me to push the middle of it almost up to her panties without dragging the sides back on the outside her legs, helped by Mom's hand resting firmly on her left thigh, the one closest to Dad.

I could now look directly down on Mom's open thighs, her lacy panties in clear view, and appear to be reading. I immediately noticed that the wider angle of Mom's legs caused the gash in the front of her panties to appear more pronounced.

I ventured forth with one hand, exploring the inner thigh of Mom's left leg, then shifting to enjoy the right when she didn't object. Unable to contain myself, not sufficiently cool to take it slow, I pushed my hand toward her panties but hers appeared out of nowhere to block me. Mom shook her head.

For a while, I contented myself stroking Mom's thighs before I realized that I had something she was interested in too. Under the cover of the magazine, I pulled the waistband of my pajamas over my cock and tucked it under my balls. Leaning forward, I pushed my cock down onto the nylon covering Mom's calves.

Mom quickly looked around the magazine at the bare cock lying across her legs, jerked a fast look at Dad, then returned her gaze. I held my magazine so only she and I could see what I was doing. I moved my hips, sawing my cock across her nylons. Mom shook her head.

'Yes,' I mouthed, nodding. I kept moving my hips.

Mom frowned, glancing back at Dad. She put her hand down to stop me, not realizing until too late what she had done. She was holding my cock. This time, it wasn't covered by an apron. We were skin to skin. Her delicate fingers felt wonderful and then fantastic as they curled around my shaft. I pushed, fucking the hole she had created in her hand. Mom's mouth dropped open, aghast, but she didn't pull her hand away.

I slid my hand up Mom's leg again and, this time, she didn't stop me. Pushing my fingers flat over her lacy mound, I stretched my thumb down, searching for and finding the cause of that gash, digging my thumb into its depths as far as the panties would allow.

A commercial brought us suddenly to our senses, both pulling back. It didn't matter, Dad kept his nose buried in the Economist, but we both knew things had been about to get out of hand. If Mom had kept holding my cock, I would have tried to fuck her right there on the couch, Dad or no Dad.

I jerked my head at the kitchen. Mom shook her head. I jerked it towards the stairs and she shook it again. I knew I couldn't stay there, so I pulled my pajamas up and, magazine covering my front as best I could, limped into the kitchen.

"What's the matter with Brent?" I heard Dad asking Mom. "Did he hurt himself?"

"Why?" Mom asked.

"He's limping," Dad replied. It sounded as if he was getting up. I panicked. How could I explain this raging boner?

"No, you stay there." There was a lot of paper rustling, then, "I'll look after him." Footsteps padded across the carpet, then Mom appeared in the doorway. She leaned back in to look at Dad. "He must have gone downstairs. I'll make sure he's alright." Mom's hand, inside the doorway, was waving me downstairs where I imagine she was going to give me a piece of her mind. I went.

I turned to watch Mom come down the stairs, loving the look of her legs, trying to look up her skirt at those lacy panties without success. Mom shooed me back, her flapping hand urging me into the laundry room. She followed.

"Did you actually hurt yourself?" Mom asked, leaning to the side to look down my legs and at my feet for some reason for me to be limping.

I didn't answer. Instead, I grabbed both of her hanging tits and squeezed them hard enough to feel her nipples poking through her bra.

"Brent!" Mom gasped. "Stop that."

I kept mauling Mom's tits.

"Don't. ... Not here," her voice was almost as raspy as mine.

I held her tits up and, with a final pass over their tips with my thumbs, relented, allowing them to drop free and watching them bounce to a standstill. Mom was breathing hard.

"Brent, that was crazy."

I reached down under Mom's skirt with my right hand and pulled it up until I was cupping those lacy, black panties. I rubbed her pussy through her panties and tugged her head back with a handful of hair. I kissed her open mouth and, while my tongue started sliding inside, let go of her hair to guide her right hand onto my hard cock, pressing it against my pajamas.

Mom moaned into my mouth, so I shoved her hand inside my pajamas and let it go. Immediately, she took hold of my proud member, fingers wrapping lovingly around it. My right hand pushed down, dragging those skimpy panties away from her now wet pussy, far enough for me to get my hand directly on her and slip a couple of fingers into her cunt.

Mom's head started shaking but I raised my hand to keep her mouth on mine and started frigging her pussy. She didn't let go of my cock, so I knew she wasn't going to stop me, no matter how much she shook her head. I kept fingering her and when the kiss broke, I scraped clean laundry from the top of the dryer onto the floor, knelt down in front of Mom, and tugged her panties down her legs.

Mom didn't struggle until the panties were clearing her foot. I slid my hands behind her thighs and clutched her legs, cruelly gripping her flesh, opening her legs and pulling her gaping cunt toward my mouth.

"Omigod," Mom cried as my lips enveloped hers and my tongue snaked its way up her channel. "OMIGOD."

I moved my hands up to grip her ass, firmly clutching a cheek in each hand as Mom's own hands pulled my head tighter against her writhing pussy. She was uttering a constant stream now.

"Omigod ... omigod ... ohhhhhhhh ... uhhhh ... unnnnngghh ... omigod ... ohhhhhhhhhhh."

Suddenly, her hands gripped me hard, holding me in so tight I couldn't breathe, not even through my nose. My face was flooded with a copious quantity of her juice in sequential tidal waves of effluent. When she was still, I stood, just managing to catch her weight as she went limp in my arms.

I lifted Mom up and her arms curled around my shoulders. She opened her legs and held them wide when she felt me searching for her hole. Finally, I found it and started sliding in, to the sound of a long, pleased and pleasing moan. To have a woman appreciate you like that. Fuck!

Thank god I ate her first. She was so wet, I just slid right in but I could tell her tight channel wasn't used to being filled like that, grudgingly expanding to accommodate her new lover, her son.

I didn't' waste any time. I started banging Mom hard, urged on by her moans and grunts as she flopped around at the mercy of my eager thrusts. I was exhausted after I finally filled her with my spunk, my jiz running down the inside of both her legs, and mine trembling from the effort. It was best that way, I remember thinking. If I'd got her on the floor where I could push her legs back, or turned her onto her tummy, the slap of our thighs would have woken the dead.

I confirmed that the next day, Sunday. Dad was out of the house with his golf bags by six and at 6:01 I was creeping into my parents bedroom, stark naked. Mom was sleeping on her stomach. With tremendous care, I dragged the blankets away inch by inch until her body lay before me, covered by a conservative nightgown almost to the backs of her knees, legs open with the right one lifted and bent.

Carefully, I shifted my weight onto the bed, crawling between her open legs, leaning forward to brace my weight with a hand on either side of her. She murmured something, her mind probably registering that my dad had come back to bed for some reason. She turned more fully onto her tummy, something she really shouldn't have done, not if she didn't want to get fucked.

I lowered my hips between her open legs and skittered my cock along the sheet until it nudged against her bare pussy lips.

"No, Harold. Don't," Mom murmured.

I pushed, my cockhead splitting her slit and pushing inside.

Mom's eyes flew open, suddenly awake, realizing this was no 'Harold'.

I pushed in a couple of inches, finding it a lot harder to breach her than the night before when she was soaking wet. I'll have to tongue her up first next time, I thought, but now it was too late. Mercilessly, I shoved more cock inside my mother's cunt.

"Fuck me," Mom groaned, lifting her ass up so I could get more into her.

So I did. I came in her twice before she managed to get off the bed.

Later, downstairs, after she had dressed for church and we were waiting for Dad to get back from his golf game, I managed to get my head under her going-to-church dress. Her panties were soaked when I tugged them up her legs after upending her onto Dad's couch.

"You're evil," she gasped as I sucked her nyloned toes into my mouth, undoing my buckle and letting my dress slacks fall to my feet. After pushing my shorts down, I crouched over her, bending her knees back to her shoulders, toes still in my mouth, and shoved my cock into her pussy for the third time that morning.

"Pray Dad doesn't come home early," I advised my mother. "I'm reloaded and ready for a good one."

"Show me," Mom laughed.
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