Incest/Taboo Instruction

Paul nodded absently and leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. He drew back and frowned at me and for a moment, I feared that he had tasted or smelled my pussy juices on me, but then he said, "You still feel a little warm. Might be you have a fever. Maybe you should stay home tomorrow."

I nodded, feeling my face blushing, whether from grief or relief, I wasn't sure. "I'll see you tomorrow night, honey," Paul said. He started to head towards the door, but paused to stare disapprovingly at John. "If you can spare the time between chasing skirts and playing in your lab, maybe you could hang around and keep an eye on your mother," he stated flatly.

John gave his father a shit-eating grin and replied, "It would be my pleasure. Don't worry, Dad. I'll take good care of Mom!" Paul stared at him a moment longer and then nodded wordlessly and was out the door.

I sagged against the kitchen counter, letting out a relieved sigh and then found myself in my son's arms, his mouth pressed against mine and his tongue swirling and dancing with mine, my flavor still present. His hand came up and again tugged down the zipper of my gown, this time pushing the flannel garment off my shoulders which he then began to kiss as the gown fell to my feet.

"Baby...John, I, oh, son, your father hasn't even pulled out of the driveway yet," I managed to stammer between his touches and kisses.

"Don't care, Mom," my son replied in a matter of fact tone. "I want you and I know you need this!" John kissed his way down from my shoulders, planting kisses on the swells of my breasts and then muttering, "I love your tits, Mom!" before wrapping his lips around my left nipple, his tongue rolling over it voraciously as he began to suck it.

I moaned, barely able to stand, so great was my arousal as it hit me again and again that this was my grown son making me feel so good. As I reveled in the sensation of my son nursing at my breast for the first time in over two decades, he slipped a hand between my legs, fingers slithering through my trimmed bush and between my swollen labia. "Omigod," I cried with pleasure as John's fingers slid inside me, curling upward expertly as they did to suddenly press against a sweet spot I'd scarcely knew existed.

"OH YES!" I sobbed as I felt myself ejaculating pussy juice to wetly and loudly splatter on the kitchen tiles as an orgasm exploded from my hitherto mythical G-spot. I convulsed in my son's grasp, sobbing and then screaming from a climax for the first time in my life. My hand which had been tenderly stroking my son's long hair suddenly twisted the long strands around fingers and I jerked him up off my breast, his teeth scraping painfully against my nipple which enhanced my sudden orgasm and mashed my mouth against his, muffling my loud cries of pleasure.

His other arm wrapped around me, keeping me upright as he continued to finger me, teaching me more about my body that a lifetime of sexual ignorance had provided. The whole time, John's tongue danced with mine, his sweet kisses making me nearly as dizzy as his fingers.

At some hazy time in the near future, John withdrew his magic digits from my pulsating cunt and held them up for me to see – two fingers thickly coated with my pussy juices which he loudly and lewdly sucked clean before pronouncing them, "Absolutely fucking delicious, Mom!"

I sobbed and threw both arms around him and hugged him tight. Suddenly, I hated the way John's clothing felt against my naked skin and I feverishly set about disrobing him, jerking his Sox jersey over his head and flinging it blindly away and then I was clawing at his belt and in frustration, simply jerked his pants down, palming the huge bulge there in his shorts and then yanking them down, halting as I beheld my son's erection for the first time.

Somewhere between kneeling and crouching, I reached out and almost was able to wrap my hand around it, marveling at the heft and length of his huge cock. "Oh, John...you – it's lovely and so big!"

John snorted with amusement and replied, "Bigger than Dad?"

Later, I would more fully realize the implications of his question, but at the moment, blurted in reply, "Oh, God, yes...he's tiny compared to you!" Suddenly, I was on my knees and my lips were kissing the swollen head of his cock, tasting his pre-cum that oozed thickly from his pee-slit. A streamer of it stretched out from his cock to my tongue and then snapped and I think I impressed us both by deftly gobbling it up, not letting even a drop splatter in waste.

I awkwardly sucked on the head, trying to take more, but with little experience and imagining his Kelly as an experienced cocksucker, suddenly felt nervous and embarrassed, although my lusty desires for him were growing exponentially. I gave his shaft a long, loving lick and after swirling my tongue over his magnificent cock head once again, I leapt to my feet and looking into my son's eyes imploringly, moaned, "Please, John, will you fuck me and make me scream with that big dick?"

There was a gleam in my son's eyes that made my knees weak as he said, "I'd love to, Mom!" I was about to suggest we go to his room when he surprised me by moving closer, pushing me up against the kitchen counter, his knees pushing in between mine and spreading them. As I watched in stunned silence, John put his hands on my waist and bent his knees and then came up, deftly planting his cock head between my swollen labia.

"I love you, Mom. Let me show you how much!" A bolt of pleasure rocked me as my son thrust upwards into my cunt, impaling me on his cock as his hands came down my flanks to cup my ass cheeks and my moan of pleasure extended into a sob of lewd satisfaction as I both felt myself being lifted up and then lowered on his long, so very hard cock!

Feeling off balance, I threw my arms around my son's neck even as my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he settled me on his big dick. I felt his wiry hairs scraping my sensitive flesh and the room spun as I fully realized my son was now fucking me and that I stood on the precipice of a massive, undreamt of orgasm!

"Hang on, Mom!" John grunted as he hefted me again, his hands sliding slightly to more firmly grip my ass cheeks and making me whimper as I felt his cock jab a little deeper. He turned and walking slowly and carefully, marched us out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the stairs. Each step jolted his cock inside my cunt and it was all I could do to cling to him while beginning to moan and sigh almost continuously.

By the time we reached the staircase, I was in utter heaven, orgasmic pleasure lighting my entire body in a carnal inferno of ecstasy. When I could, I kissed his face and neck and bit his shoulder at least twice as my moans grew louder. My pussy was beginning to spasm around his cock, trying to trap it deep within me, but every time he took a step, bursts of pleasure undid me, my juices gushing wildly around his massive pole, dripping from me and leaving splatters on the floor as I hooted and howled.

Then my son began climbing the stairs, taking care with each step and trying not to be distracted as my fingers clawed at his back and I began to shriek like a banshee in the throes of orgasm. I now thought I fully understood why his redheaded girlfriend, Kelly had screamed like she did as I could hear echoes of her pleasure in my own screams. Each step up the stairs added fuel to the fire, reminding me of just how big he was in comparison to his father and forcing me to acknowledge that with just a few minutes taste of being fucked by my son, that I was hopelessly addicted to our incestuous sex!

My throat was raw by the time we reached the second floor, my head thrown back as I sobbed and twitched on his orgasm. John's body was covered in sweat from his labors and my legs slipped useless to dangle along his thighs as I hadn't the control to keep them wrapped around him any longer. His fingers dug deep into my butt and his biceps bulged with strain as he pushed us through the partially open door to my bedroom.

Somehow my son managed to climb up on the bed my husband and I had shared for more than twenty years and walked on his knees until we were in the middle of the king sized bed. John kissed me then, passionately, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gently eased me down with himself atop me. We both lay there, me quivering and shaking from orgasm and he breathing heavily and trembling from his efforts. His cock throbbed wonderfully inside me, buried to the hilt in my womb, touching me in places that were hitherto virgin to the touch of any man including his father.

When I collected enough of my senses, I whimpered, "If we never fuck again, son...thank you for this. I've never felt this wonderful – this full – this complete!"

John had been resting his head in the crook of my neck and he raised his hand, a look of amusement on his face. He kissed me again, his tongue roiling around mine before he finally said in a still breathless voice, "I told you, Mom. This is only the beginning!" I felt him begin to withdraw from my pussy, my flesh trying to wrap around him, trap him and never letting go. Then he slammed deep into me again, provoking a scream of pleasure from me and I barely heard him add above my shrieks of delight. "I'm going to fuck you like you deserve as often as I can from now on!"

I could only sob and moan as my son began to fuck me, showing me all that I had suspected but had never experienced before. I had no words, my mind surrendering all higher function to my baser instincts, utterly and completely focused on mating with my child, wrapping myself – my existence around him and focusing only on his manly and loving talents as he fucked me and fucked me hard.

My son rode me hard and I slipped in and out of orgasm for what seemed an eternity, lost in a haze of incestuous lust and pleasure, never wanting it to end and then as I peaked one last time, my back arching violently and nearly throwing him out of the saddle, John thrust deep inside me one last time and gave that bull's bellow I had heard earlier in the day and began to cum in me.

Feeling my son filling my cunt with his hot semen and knowing that it was my only child's seed gushing inside me, sent me to new and unsuspected heights of orgasmic pleasure and I bucked and writhed underneath his strong body as he shot fiery streamer after fiery streamer of sperm into my womb. My body was burning with sexual pleasure, propelling me into a realm undreamed of – one that only my son and I inhabited, wrapped in nothing but our love and lust for each other, consuming me heart and soul until the ecstasy of our incestuous passion rendered me insensible – my mind overcome with pure and perfect and unrelenting pleasure that I was lost amidst in, everything fading to black, leaving only a remote sense of consciousness adrift in a sea of our lust and joy.

It was dawn when I regained a sense of myself, suddenly conscious and remembering each delicious moment of my son first making love to me. Grey light peeked through the windows of my bedroom as I found myself astride my son – riding his cock as if my life depended on it. John's hands cupped my breasts, pinching and tugging my swollen and aching nipples as he looked blissfully up at me. I was again approaching a climatic explosion and I had no idea how long I had been fucking my son, but my hair was plastered wetly to my scalp and my body was slick with sweat. My pussy ached with what I could only suspect was the sweet pain of being well fucked over and over again.

Hours had passed since my son had first fucked me and I tingled with sensation that the time had not been spent being completely asleep. My mouth tasted of sperm and pussy and I could only moan with wonder at what I had been doing in a state of unconscious sexual frenzy. "I love you, John. Mommy loves you so much!" I croaked, amazed at the harshness of my voice and instantly realizing that I had screamed myself hoarse, nearly into laryngitis amidst our ardent fucking.

"I love you too, Mom," John gasped, his hands sliding from my tits to my waist, just above the swell of my hips and yanking down, forcing me to become completely impaled on his long dick, "Let me show you how much!" and he began to cum again, making me sob as he again flooded my womb with his thick, hot semen. My orgasm took me over as I screamed in carnal pleasure until my voice gave out completely. In the aftermath of my orgasm, I collapsed on top of my son's athletic body, cuddling with him until I fell into a satisfied sleep and a big smile on my face.

The rest of the morning passed in a dream like blur. I remember calling out sick, my voice unable to rise beyond a hoarse whisper. I remember being on my knees between my son's legs as he sat on the side of the bed, me sucking a real man's cock for the first time and enjoying the experience of making him cum and feeding on a real man's load. I remember being fucked doggy style as John called it, me clinging to the carved wood headboard for dear life as my son gave me a seemingly endless and brutal fuck.

I woke up in his bed, confused for a moment until my son came in and tenderly kissed me and then carried me into the shower where he lovingly cleaned me and gave me one last delightful pussy licking – my well fucked cunt so sensitive and tender, I was writhing with pleasure from the moment his wicked tongue began lashing my pussy. Then John carried me back to the bed I shared with my husband, having changed all the bed linen which no doubt reeked of the greatest sex I had ever experienced.

I slept well into the evening, finally emerging from my bedroom to the smell of vegetable soup, discovering to my delight that John had prepared dinner. Paul was home and I felt a little guilt as he expressed his concern over my "illness."

"Don't worry...truth be told, I feel like a new woman," I told him in a froggy voice while John beamed at me proudly. "Our son took very good care of his mother while you were gone." I felt my face and chest grow warm as I began to flush – not from embarrassment or shame, but from the sexual desire inside me to be with John again.

Paul nodded, barely acknowledging my compliment to our son and went on about his regular routine until it was time for bed. I was more tired than I expected and John had left to go and check on his lab work which he'd neglected all day; I went to bed when my husband decided to turn in. As we climbed into our bed, I had a sudden concern that maybe my husband would want to make love to me, wondering what he might make of my still very sore and abused cunt that his son had spent so much time in over the last day, but Paul kissed me chastely on the cheek, murmured, "Good night, Cathy," rolled over with his back to me and promptly went to sleep.

I lay there awake for a long time, my hand slowly caressing my panty covered pussy as it throbbed and ached from its delightful workout. My thoughts were filled with the new memories of making love with John and wondering what lay in store for my son and I. I knew that what we'd begun...his seduction of his mother was only the beginning and I went to sleep with the last words he's said to me before I'd fallen asleep earlier that afternoon, "This is only the beginning, Mom. I have so much to show you!"

As it turned out, my son spoke nothing but truth as he and I began an incestuous affair that made me dizzy in its intensity and happier than I had ever been in my life. Upon my return to work the next day, I was delighted to receive a dozen red roses with a brief note that read, "Dreaming of you and what lies ahead. Love, J. P.S. Be thinking about the meaning of the number '69!'"

My boss, Dr. Lane, gave me several curious glances during the day as I was constantly blushing and smiling at the thought of what my son was suggesting. I'm sure she'd have been even more curious and shocked if she had seen us that following Saturday morning as we lay in my matrimonial bed while Paul was out golfing, me atop my son with his mouth glued to my cunt while I discovered the inherent difficulties of trying to suck cock while simultaneously cumming my brains out.

Being on the same campus with John proved to be advantageous as we often took lunch together, usually forgoing a mean rather than to dine on pussy and cock in his lab or in my car and at least once a week, spending the noon hour in an old fashioned motor inn just off campus fucking each other madly and ferociously.

At home, we could barely keep our hands off of each other. Whether Paul was home or not, we were constantly engaged in some sort of sexual activity, whether it was me sucking my son's cock in the kitchen while his father was watching the nightly news in the den or me bent over the bathroom sink while John slammed his cock into me while his hand covered my mouth to muffle my screams or deep in the dead of night when my husband was sound asleep, creeping into John's room and letting him fuck his mother nearly senseless.

Despite the near constant and wonderful sex I was having with my son, I still tried to initiate lovemaking with my husband, but as weeks and then months rolled by, he seemed less inclined and even happy as I simply quit making overtures to him. Although, any guilt that might have been lingering was long gone, it still made me sad that he wouldn't allow me to pleasure him with my new found knowledge and that to him lovemaking was something left behind with our own youth. For me, I felt younger than I had in a very long time, simply feeling as if I was alive and awake after a long hibernation.

Often as I lay next to my son after a rousing sexual encounter, my body glowing with satisfaction, John would sit on one elbow and study me and shake his head. It became a common joke that he would say at some point in the aftermath of our incestuous lovemaking, "It's a damn shame Dad didn't see this. He'd have picked up some really good pointers in how to please his wife."

I would usually struggle up, little aftershocks of orgasmic pleasure making me shiver as I moved, and wrap my arms around my son's neck and before I gave him a long, slow kiss, murmur, "I may be his wife, but I'm my son's woman now!"

That seemed to please my son, but there was this look in his eyes, a small, but smoldering fury about his father's lack of interest in pleasing me...a look that made me realize that Paul's indifference offended him nearly as much as the joy he took from pleasuring his mother. I realized that it was a dangerous look...a look that I had seen before in my son since he was a little boy, pushing and shoving against the limits and boundaries around him – a look that had gotten him in trouble with his parents and the local authorities several times as he defied rules, sometimes laws and convention in order to satisfy his sense of right and wrong.

That being said, I wasn't totally surprised when after we'd been lovers for maybe four months, as we lay cuddling naked together after making love, his semen slowly dripping from my well fucked cunt, John sat up and looked down at me and said, "I have a plan on how to maybe finally get Dad to pay attention to you, see you as the sexual beast you are and show him some pointers.

When he told me his plan, I was at once horrified, intrigued and to perfectly honest, so turned on that I sucked my son's cock back to life and fucked him again on the spot. I agreed to his plan despite my better judgment, knowing full well how erotic the possibilities were and surprised that the potential humiliation of my husband was making me so wet.

John implemented his plan on a Friday evening, staying in instead of going out with friends...not that he did that as much as he had before we'd become lovers. I had mixed Paul a drink at his request...nothing complex, just a rum and coke, but before I brought it to him, our son sitting at the bar, had held up a small vial of clear liquid and with a little boy's naughty grin, poured it in his drink.

"Are you sure this won't hurt him?" I had asked earlier for maybe the twentieth time before Paul had arrived home from work.

"Not a chance. It's a hypnotic with sedative, paralytic and some mild hallucinogenic properties. Homeland Security uses it for interrogating subjects. Most subjects think they're having dreams." My son grinned evilly and said, "Dad's gonna get the dream of a lifetime!"

Twenty minutes after beginning to sip at his drink, Paul was looking around at us owlishly, nodding off again and again. Finally, John said in a commanding voice. "Dad, go upstairs and get ready for bed."

Paul nodded and said, "I'm going upstairs and getting ready for bed." He stood up, a little off balance and suddenly our son was at his side, saying, "Let me help you." With his hand at Paul's elbow, he headed for the door to the den, pausing once to look back and smile as he said, "Mom, give us about fifteen minutes, will you?"

I nodded and replied, "Yes, love." I fidgeted around the downstairs for a few minutes and then went upstairs. I undressed in my son's room, putting on a long, white, fluffy robe. Finally, I went and knocked on my own bedroom door, opening the door when I heard my son beckon to me. I stepped in and immediately gasped as the scene was far more shocking than I had envisioned it being.

My husband was sitting in a cushioned upright chair that I usually used at my makeup vanity. He was wearing only his pajama tops, his lean body showing age with a growing pot belly pooching out from underneath. His hands were tied to the back rails of the chair and his feet were tied to the legs. John had used silk scarves to restrain his father, tying them with knots he'd learned as a child during scouting. His cock, small and limp rested slightly amidst a graying mass of pubic hair. Paul's head was down and he was softly snoring.

John came out of the bathroom, smiling at me as he approached and took me in his arms. "Are you ready, Mom?" he asked, that arrogant tone of confidence thick in his voice.

I took a deep breath and said, "I guess so. Are you sure he's not going to go nuts. Can he get out of his restraints?"

My son kissed me, his hands roaming over my robe clad body as he did. "I'm sure, Mom. Oh, Dad might get a little upset when he sees us, but it will be alright. The bonds probably aren't necessary – while he's under the influence of the drug, he'd stand there on one foot and watch us if I told him too."

I nodded and kissed him again, feeling a little sinful for French-kissing my son in the same room that my husband was in. A little breathlessly, I said, "I'm ready to go!"

John laughed and then clapped his hands together loudly and bellowed, "Wake up, Dad! It's time for school!"

Paul's head snapped up, his eyes going wide, but clearly a bit unfocused. "What...what is it? What's going on?" He looked curiously at John and I, our son's arm around my shoulders.

"Well, Dad...it's 'Learn how to please your wife Day.'" John said seriously. "Apparently, you've never figured out how to make Mom cum her brains out with that little willy of yours, so I'm going to show you how. Now pay close attention!"

Paul's brow furrowed in confusion and then he looked down at his bound arms and feet. "What the hell is this...what am I doing trussed up like thi..."

"Quiet, Dad!" John said loudly, interrupting his father. "You can ask questions if you want, but mostly you should keep your mouth shut and just watch!"

I watched, a little amazed as Paul fell silent, looking at us intently, but not speaking. John stepped behind me, his arms slipping around my waist while he nibbled on my neck, my short dark hair brushing against his cheek. John looked up at his frowning father. "When was the last time you just made out with Mom, Dad?" he asked. "When did you last kiss her sweet neck and run your hands over her gorgeous body?" His hands slid upwards to cup my breasts through the gown. I felt my skin burn as I felt my husband's eyes staring at his wife and son."

Looking like he didn't want to answer the question, but unable to resist, Paul replied, "I...I don't remember."

John sighed. "You need to be loving Mom up more, Dad. You won't believe how wet it makes her when you just run your tongue along the nape of her neck." He did exactly that and a little groan slipped from my lips. John chuckled and I felt his hands slid around my waist again, undoing the simple knot of my robe's belt. His hands slipped inside and pulled the robe wide, exposing my naked flesh underneath. "Check out this hot body, Dad. Isn't Mom sexy?" My son drew the robe back over my shoulders and then off my arms and tossed it away to be completely forgotten.

John's hands slipped around my waist again, quickly sliding upwards to cup and squeeze my breasts and I sagged back against him, his touch making me weak in the knees. Paul was frowning and he shifted restlessly in his seat, his mouth working for a moment before he muttered, "She's your mother, John. She shouldn't be naked in front of you and you shouldn't be touching her like that."

"Well, maybe I wouldn't be if her husband was doing what he needed to do!" John shot back as he caressed my breasts, sliding fingers between my hard nipples and pinching them. "Mom likes how I touch her, don't you, Mom?"

"I love how our son touches me," I said in a thick voice. I wiggled myself against him, feeling his erection underneath his sweats rubbing against my ass cheeks.

John squinted his eyes at Paul and said, "Why aren't you hard, Dad? Don't you think Mom's sexy? She's got me as hard as a rock. Do you want to see?" Our son stepped to my side and took my hand and put it against the bulge in his sweat pants. "Do you want to see, Dad? Show him, Mom."

I turned and rubbed the bulge in his crotch and then glancing at Paul, I pulled John's sweats down, his cock catching me in the face as I squatted and helped John get free of his sweat pants altogether. Rising back up, I caught his big dick in my hand and kissed my way up his chest as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and casually threw it away. Looking at my husband, I stroked our son's cock as I hissed, "Isn't our son something...such a fine, big dick on our little boy!" I stroked it over and over as I added, "Our son is hard for me...for his mother!"

Paul glowered at me, but didn't say anything. His expression told me he wasn't happy and I could detect jealously burning there. Suddenly emboldened, I squatted down and said, "And his mother loves sucking his fine cock!"

My husband gave a little squawk of surprise and John said, "Isn't she lovely! And she sucks cock so fine...but then you should know that." Our son shook his head and said, "I can't believe that when Mom offers to suck your dick, you don't scream, 'YES!' at the top of your lungs. Shit, Dad, I can't believe you aren't asking Mom to blow you every morning when you wake up and before you go to bed at night."

Paul's eyes were wide as he watched me wrap my lips around John's big cock and take him into my mouth – showing him how well I had learned to deep-throat over the last several weeks. "Hey-oh!" exclaimed John. "Looks like Dad kinda likes that!" I glanced over and to my surprise; Paul was getting erect, his small cock rising up from his gray hair like a small animal checking out its surroundings.

John pulled me to my feet, kissing me passionately and sloppily, making sure his father could see our tongues rolling and curling around each other and not caring if he could taste his own pre-cum on his mother's lips.

Our son broke the kiss and he now squatted at my side as I moved my legs further apart at his hands' direction. "Now, Dad...pay attention because we're getting to the heart of the matter..." He paused and grinned up at me. "Or maybe we should call it the cunt of the matter." His hand slid over my mound, slowly rubbing it while parting my labia to reveal how wet I truly was.

"Now, Dad...after you've necked with Mom a while and got naked and maybe she's sucked your little cock a bit, you should be returning the favor, getting Mom ready for a good dicking!" John spread my pussy lips with his fingers, showing my husband my pink, dripping wet flesh. "I can't believe that you've never done Mom the courtesy of licking her pussy even one fucking time in twenty-seven years!"

"That's nasty," Paul intoned immediately.

"No, it's not, Dad," replied John. "Mom has one of the sweetest tasting pussies I've ever eaten and I've eaten a lot. Now watch and learn!" Our son turned and slipped his tongue into my spread flesh, lacing his meaty probe the length of my wet slit, ending it only after he rolled his tongue over my already swollen clitoris which had emerged from its hood.

I cried out in utter pleasure, scarcely believing it possible that John was licking me in front of his father. I cried out again as he swirled and danced his tongue over my labia before taking hold of one lip with his teeth ever so gently and then sucking on it. I had to reach out and steady myself on his shoulder. "Soooo fucking good!" I moaned, staring into my husband's eyes. "You can learn from our son, Paul...John knows how to please a woman."

Paul just pursed his lips like he was sucking on a sour lemon and shook his head. "Nasty," he said again.

"You're a fucking idiot, Dad," John retorted after taking one last loving lick of my wet pussy. Then I was moaned again as he deftly slipped two fingers inside me. "You won't even finger Mom, will you?" he asked skeptically. "You do know that even if your little dick won't rise to the occasion, a man can still please a woman...make her gush and scream till she passes out if only you know how to use that tongue and a couple of fingers?"

"Ohhhhhm yessss!" I crooned as our son stirred his fingers around inside my pussy, teasing the nooks and crannies, so knowledgeable now to my most sensitive spots. "Yesssss," I sighed as I felt him curl the fingers upwards, reminding me of the first time he'd touched me. With practiced ease, John found my G-spot and massaged it and I unleashed my first scream of the evening as I exploded with orgasmic delight, pussy juices gushing from my cunt to cover John's hand and splatter his face as he moved in to add his tongue to his incestuous assault on my motherly pussy.

One hand dug into my son's shoulder while the other was tangled in his hair, not wanting him to ever move as his fingers touched my most secret and precious places while his tongue rolled up and down my lips and had its way with my clitoris! I wavered in place, wondering how long I could keep standing as my orgasm took me to pieces.

"Shame on you, Dad for never giving Mom cause to scream like that," John exclaimed in a heated voice after letting his tongue leave my mound. "I should have grown up hearing Mom screaming out in pleasure damn near every night of my life and you never gave her this much pleasure with all the times you poked her with your little dick combined!"

John stood up and walked me backwards towards the bed, me staggering as his fingers remained inside me, doing as much to hold up as anything and making me continue to gush pussy juices over his hand. When the back of my knees hit the bed, I collapsed into a sitting puddle of still quivering flesh, my legs all akimbo as John finally and slowly slipped his fingers out of me, my juices dripping from his hand.

"Mom tastes so sweet, Dad," John said, shaking his head. "You're an idiot for not wanting to taste her everyday of your married life. Nasty? You've never even tasted Mom's sweet cunt, have you?" Our son strode across the room and without warning smeared my juices over his father's mouth.

Paul jerked back his head, but his mouth and chin were shiny with my wet creams. His arms struggled to raise up to wipe his mouth, but he was too well restrained. Finally, tentatively, his tongue emerged and ran along his lips. He made a face and tried to turn his head and wipe my juices off on his shoulder, but couldn't do it. "Tastes awful," he muttered, glaring at us.

John gave a sigh and said, "You're a fool, old man." He returned to me and bent over and kissed me, sharing the taste of my pussy with me. I had become quite fond of it, especially knowing how he'd obtained it and the pleasure his efforts had brought me. Looking back at Paul, our son said, "Your entire mission in life should be to make Mom happy, hearing her screams of pleasure echoing in your ears all the time." He rose up and brought his cock nearer to my face and recognizing my cue, I opened wide and took the head of his cock in my mouth, rolling my tongue over the firm, but spongy flesh, loving the feel of how he throbbed.

"You need to prime the pump, Dad. Make your woman all hot and bothered with your tongue and fingers – get her squirming and anxious for some hard cock. It's true...size doesn't matter," said John with a bit of a smile. "But, it doesn't hurt either."

Our son motioned me to move back onto the bed. "Now watch carefully, Dad. Some of this might surprise you, but the whole point of the lesson is to show you how to make love properly to Mom." He climbed up on the bed and grinned at Dad as he moved between my widespread legs. "Our goal is for you to learn how to make Mom scream. Just watch and learn." He leaned into me, the head of his cock slipping perfectly between my pussy lips as if he was born to do this...and maybe he was.

John glanced at Paul whose eyes were opened so wide, I thought they might pop out of his head as he saw his son prepare to fuck his wife. "Don't worry if you can't see everything, Dad...before we get through, I expect Mom and me will fuck from every angle and position you could think of."

"No, you can't!" shouted Paul, but my husband's protests were drowned out by my own sudden screams as John sank his cock in me forcefully, mastering me with his wonderfully erection as he had for months. When I felt my son's hard penis was inside me, I was his...completely and willingly.

Paul rocked in his chair straining against his bonds as our son fucked me, his protests falling on deaf ears as John and I were totally consumed with each other – our bodies quickly moving into a mutual rhythm that was echoed by my cries of pleasure and John's pleased grunts of delight. I was a little surprised that during the infrequent moments that my husband entered my mind and I spared him a glance that despite his vocal objections and dismayed expressions, his cock stood tall and erect.

As promised, John led us on a tour de force of sexual positions spanning missionary to reverse cowgirl to side by side and doggie style – shifting positions every few minutes to provide Paul with various angles so he could see our son's cock slamming into my cunt and how I looked in the midst of orgasm.

I'd lost count of my orgasms and my voice was harsh from my cries and pleas for John to fuck me harder when he swung us around so that he was taking me from behind, the two of us facing Paul. Our son reached out and wrapped his fingers in my short hair and pulled my head up so my husband could see my expression as I moaned as John's short, brutal thrusts brought me closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Look at Mom...look at her expression, Dad," John said in gasping breaths. "In the twenty-seven years you've been married, have you ever seen her look so happy, so loved, so well fucked?" I could see over Paul's shoulder at my vanity mirror and look at myself, eyes hooded and slack-jawed with utter sexual bliss. Our son thrust deep in me, our bodies slapping wetly together and didn't withdraw, instead taking a loud and deep breath. "Do you smell that, Dad? That's Mom! That's Mom's wet pussy! This room should smell like this everyday after Mom has been fucked as she deserves! If you won't do it, I promise you, I will!"

John's words sent me over the edge and I began to howl as I came once again, more intensely than I had all evening, my pussy squeezing my son's cock and he bellowed and began shooting his hot semen into my womb. As I squalled with ecstatic pleasure, John growled harshly, "Listen to Mom...that's how you're supposed to make her feel! Mom has the sweetest, hottest pussy on the planet. Love her like she deserves!"

Paul made an odd squawking sound and suddenly exploded on his own, his seed shooting up weakly to splatter on the carpet and then on his thighs and crotch. As I gathered my wits together amidst the storm of incestuous pleasure, I raised my head and grinned wickedly at my husband. In a voice hoarse from screaming over being expertly fucked by our son, I gasped, "Did you cum because it excited you to watch me get fucked or because it was our son that was fucking me?"

John chuckled behind me as Paul fumbled for an answer. Finally, he shook his head and said almost too low to be heard, "I don't know." He stared at me with an odd expression. I could see the plainly disdainful frown he'd had so many times when I had begged him to be more open to bedroom play, struggling with what he'd just witnessed.

Before I could reply or ask him anything more, I had to moan as John slowly withdrew his still swollen cock from my battered pussy, evoking so much pleasure from my sensitive flesh; I just dropped my head to the mattress and whimpered with how sweet and right it felt. John reached out and taking me by the shoulders turned me around and guided my weak body to crawl upwards until we were cuddling naked against the headboard, our sweaty bodies bonding together, my thigh draped over his leg as I snuggled against him.

John and I stared down at Paul who was watching us with both disgust and envy. Finally, our son said, "Shame on you. This should be you, Dad, holding Mom in your arms and reveling in the wonderful sex you've just had. It should be you, Dad, but if you won't someone else will." John's voice deepened and he said sternly, "I will!"

I turned my head upwards to my son's face, his voice alone making me wet anew and kissed him, slipping my tongue into his mouth as I rested against him, our tongues languorously rolling over each other, allowing the kiss to roll on and on, pausing only to take a breath and say, "I love you," to each other while Paul glowered at us.

Finally, John looked at his father and said, "Watch your son and wife make out until you fall asleep and don't forget what you've learned, Dad. Remember how Mom should always be treated."

"CATHY!" Paul sat straight up in bed, his eyes wide in alarm. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide with madness as he gazed around the room. It was Saturday morning, the sun streaming in through the windows so bright, I was able to read without the bedside light on. My husband was trembling as he stared at me and then slowly examined the room. He pulled the sleeves back on his pajamas and examined his unblemished wrists. His eyes lingered on the straight back chair parked in front of my vanity and then turned back to examine me.

I sat down the book I had been reading and said, "Paul? Are you okay...bad dreams?"

He reached out and pulled back the blankets, studying my bedclothes, a thin cotton gown with lace trim that while not exactly sexy wasn't quite hiding my better attributes. "Paul?" I asked again, reaching out to touch his hand.

Slowly, he nodded and said distantly, "Yeah...a bad, um, weird dream."

"Really," I asked, trying to sound concerned.

He nodded again and rubbed his jaw and then ran his fingers over his chin and lips that had been coated in my juices a few hours before. "Weird...weird dream." He looked around and asked, "What day is it?"

I laughed and said, "It's Saturday, honey." I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, "Almost nine o'clock."

Paul ran his hands over himself as if making sure he was all there. Then, rubbing his head and wincing a little, "Did I get drunk last night?"​