Incest/Taboo Nora in the Sun

I woke up, thinking that somehow I was back in the states and that I was still living in my parent's house. The smell of bacon and eggs floated into my room, and I felt myself drawn out, my hangover barely manageable, the bright light coming from the sea my only clue as to where I was. I collapsed into a chair, my head throbbing, as I made out my mom in a fresh, heavy bathrobe, her hair still wet from the shower, her lovely hips encapsulated in the thick cotton of her robe.

"Morning, sunshine," she said, pushing a full plate my way. I chowed down with an insatiable vigor, relishing my mother's cooking as if it had been the first time in years I had appreciated it.

Dad came down shortly after I got started, partially dressed, almost as hung over as we were. "Wow! Breakfast is ready, my wife is fresh and sexy, and my son's out of bed with the sunrise? Where was all this five years ago?" His joke completely fell flat. Mom rolled her eyes and pushed a plate his way.

Dad started on a tangent about how his work was calling him again, and how the firm was practically begging him to come back. "I'm strongly considering it," he said between mouthfuls.

Mom looked at me as dad went on about how badly they wanted him to leave the vacation. Her eyes explained to me that if dad was gone, we'd have the house to ourselves.

"Of course," dad said, mouth full, "there's only a few days left in the vacation. It's not like I would make that much of a difference by getting up there early."

Mom's look faded into disappointment as dad settled into that train of thought. "What's your plan then?" I noted her use of the phrase, 'your plan' versus a phrase that included the rest of the family. "You can't day drink every day. Unless you can."

"I think I will," said dad wistfully, licking his lips. "I'm going to make today about food and booze. Again."

"Wonderful," said mom.

Dad stood up, cruising by her. His hands went up and around her shoulders. Mom's eyebrows went up as she subtly extricated herself from them, while dad went on, entirely unaware. "And we'll have to have some quality time when I get back, just you and me." he said. "I've been getting jealous of all the time you and Brett have been spending."

Mom's eyes met mine and she gave a subtle grin.

I returned it as dad stepped out. The front door closed with a bang and mom's smile dropped as she started thinking.

"Your father is going to have ideas now," mom's lips pressed together, soft. "I don't know if I'm looking forward to it."

"Just tell him no," I suggested. "It's not like you guys have fucked a single time since we all got here."

"No, I guess I kept that reserved for my son." Mom gave a small laugh. "But regardless, it's going to be annoying trying to fend him off. I'll have to figure something out. At some point. But until then," her eyes looked to mine and her lids dropped. Mom smiled as she sauntered over toward the front door. She looked through a window as dad stepped into a taxi and disappeared toward Chetumal. "That's going to put him out of here for ages. And do you know what that means, Brett?"

My cock stood at attention in my pants. "Of course."

"Take off your pants, baby," mom said with a mischievous smile. "I want to taste my baby's cock for hours."

I tore off my shirt and my pants and moved over to mom, who had already made it to the couch. I grabbed at her robe and she fought me gently, giggling as I pulled at the edges and freed her breasts. The robe unfurled, and her ample flesh was mine to see, her heavy breasts and her wide hips on full display. She fell across the couch and pulled me close, our lips connecting, and we started to kiss together as we realized fully that we had the house to ourselves completely for the day, and there was no way dad would even want to come back before getting as drunk as possible.

It occurred to me again that my own mother was naked for me, all of her on full display. Her teats pressed against my chest, the same teats I sucked on when I was born. Her lips that smooched me when I cried were nibbling on my mouth, her tongue that scolded me was now licking into my mouth and tasting it -- and the taste of my own mother was in my mouth. If any of my friends knew it would be a disaster of disgust -- and jealousy.

Mom spread her legs and took my hair in her hands. This was the first time I had really seen her spread herself in any amount of light -- her pussy already glistened a light, cherry shade of pink. She looked delicious and wet already, and I leaned down, licking down her tummy, settling my shoulder between her thighs, dipping my tongue between her lips to get a taste of her nectar, and as I took in the sour penny taste between her lips she moaned and pulled my head closer into her.

I guided myself onto the couch the opposite way as her, moving my cock toward her mouth while I wrapped my arms around her legs and grabbed her ass as leverage. We were sixty-nineing, and her hot, lovely lips wrapped around my cock. She started to suck, her tongue swirling around my head as she bobbed her neck back and forth, tasting me, moaning as my lips and tongue massaged her clit and between her labia, the action of her voice vibrating on my cock and sending mellow waves of pleasure through it.

I heard the television turn on -- a soap opera was starting and mom wanted to watch while she sucked on me, and I decided if there was a way to spend the day, I couldn't go wrong with pleasuring and being pleasured by my own sexy, gorgeous mother while an engrossing drama played out in a language I didn't even understand.

The pleasure was incredible, unending, and mom and I sucked and licked at each other as the episode progressed. As a family split and screamed at each other, I tongued deep within her lips, circling her clit with my fingers. As a mother tearfully explained something to a stern jury of stylish, buxom sluts, my mother jerked me off, lapping at the head of my cock.

The episode ended and another began, and we didn't show any signs of slowing. Every once in a while mom got up, her lovely ass swinging with each movement, and she would drink a full glass of water and take a few pieces of fruit from the fridge. She'd sometimes feed me a few pieces, drop a glass of water before me, and then go back to sucking on me and moving into position for me to taste her -- her cold, slick, freshly watered mouth would be a cool relief on my cock, her saliva returning as we took each other into our mouths, the heat returning as we moaned in pleasure for hours, the show progressing.

By the time we got to what seemed to be a season finale of some kind, I was impatient. My balls were starting to ache from the release being put off over and over, but ever time I started to gain any traction, mom pulled me out of her mouth and licked gently at me while I thrust aimlessly. "Oh baby," I heard mom say between my legs. "You have no idea how much fun I'm having with you."

My mouth was buried deep in her muff, but I was sure she could feel my sentiment as I licked at her deeper. My jaw was sore, my tongue felt like it would fall off, but I wanted to keep going -- her mouth was like heaven on my cock, and I wanted to cum in her throat again.

But it didn't seem like she really wanted to do that. Instead, she teased me some more, poking at my cock, occasionally wrapping a hand around it and jerking it until I grew harder, twitching, and then she would pull back.

It was driving me insane.

Eventually, I got up, pulling my cock from between her soft lips, and mom sat up on the couch to watch as I furiously stood, trying to reconcile my desire to cum and her innocent fun.

"Aw, baby," mom said, putting her legs together and covering her ample breasts with an arm. "Somebody looks frustrated."

"I want to cum."

"Baby, you don't get to cum." She watched my reaction as I twitched with fury and sexual aggression. Her eyes lowered to my throbbing manhood as she licked her lips. "Not unless you can take me."

I fell onto her, seizing her arms and pinning them to the couch. Mom fought me, actually resisting, an open mouthed smile mixing with laughs and panicked grunts as we fought. I pulled her arms up and she moved her legs together, pushing me off the couch. I moved forward again, tackling her legs, tearing them apart, pushing my hips between hers, my cock pressing forward while she quivered under me. "Are you going to fuck mommy again?" She asked, breathless. "Are you going to take mommy and make her beg you to stop fucking her?"

I couldn't control my words and bellowed, "shut the fuck up, bitch," and gave her a slap on the face, the sound echoing through the room as she looked up in shock and delight, a red mark brightening on her. Her legs weakened and I pressed forward, putting a hand around her throat, forcing myself between her legs. There was no time to think about what I had just said. My cock was hungry for her -- I was going to fuck her, to make her take all of me, and I was going to make her scream with it. "I'm going to make you take my cock, you fucking slut, and you're going to fucking love it."

My mother laughed until my hand closed around her throat and she rolled her eyes back in anticipation, saying between gasps, "oh fuck, baby, tell your mother she's a dirty slut, oh, please baby..."

My cock pressed at her soft entrance -- she was unbearably slick, the slit burning hot as I forced my way in. Her legs writhed around me as I sank in in a single thrust, and she gave a suppressed scream as I started to pound her, the sound of her hips slapping echoing through the villa. "Fucking take it, slut!"

"F-f-fuck!" She threw her head back, shuddering, unable to control the noises she started to make. She gave a sustained cry, her voice rising and falling with each fast thrust slamming her hips against the couch. She bit my shoulder, hard, moaning as my balls slapped against her butt while my cock thrust in and out of her, her cunt spasming in pleasure as I battered her insides. I felt her hips rising as she pushed herself upward on the couch -- I felt her starting to shake. She tensed up first, her mouth opening, a groan rising as she shivered uncontrollably, and then broke.

"Oh fuck, Brett, you're making mommy cum!" She screamed, actually started a scream, a musical note as her voice carried higher and higher. I pushed down lightly with my hand over her neck and she struggled against it while I dominated her.

"Cum all over your son's cock, whore!" Her cunt quivered over my cock and creamed, hot and wet juices suddenly overflowing from inside her, the newfound slipperiness allowing me to pound her faster, and faster, while her screaming kept rising. She was loud now, and I had no doubt that the sound carried through the sliding glass doors and onto the beach.

And I felt myself starting to throb -- the ache in my balls turning into a wiry tension.

"I'm gonna cum, mom!" I hissed at her, still pushing her down, still thrusting as she rolled her eyes back, half-listless with pleasure.

"Baby," she said, trying to put her sentence together as the pleasure completely overtook her. "Don't cum inside me, not yet." This was the second time she asked me -- and my cock was so pent up that I was honestly glad to release it anywhere, but the juicy feeling of mom's pussy as it clenched around my cock was pure bliss -- I didn't want to pull out. But she looked at me, her eyes sober, her face red as I held her, pinned to the couch.

"Baby," she emphasized. "I'm not ready for it yet." She put a hand on the hand I used to pin her down. She moved it, and pulled me close, brought my ear up to her lovely, soft mouth. "I want you make you cum with my thighs." I realized that it would make today almost like a reverse of last night, this time ending between her thighs.

"Alright," I said.

"You're such a good son," she whispered, lovingly touching my face as I pulled out from the slick pressure of her cunny. She got up, her naked body slick with sweat, still trembling from her orgasm. She turned away from me, put both hands on the couch, and bent over, presenting her ass to me as she stuck out her hips, similar to last night. The shape of her body was like a polished vase, a slick, hairless porcelain. Her cheeks were so lovely and white, the tan lines only accentuating how pale she was in her most private parts.

"Do you need any oil, baby?" she asked. "There's some on the counter. It's grapeseed oil," she hummed, "the best kind."

I got a large, heavy bottle from the counter and popped the cap. Mom was waving her ass back and forth while she waited for me, straightening up like an obedient kitten. "Hurry up, baby, I want to feel your cock rubbing on my pussy again."

I poured the oil into my hand, slicked it over my cock. My dick was pulsing, the head maroon, it wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her cunt that waved before me, the slick, light pink lips shifting as her hips swung up and down.

My oily hands went between her legs and lubed up her thighs. My mother sighed as my fingers slipped along her pussy lips, grazing her clit and pushing upward.

"Now do it, baby," she begged. "Use your mother's thighs to make your big, pretty cock cum." Obediently, I set myself up behind her. She stretched onto her tip toes, pulling her legs together. Her beautiful ass was so soft, so silky. I wrapped my hands around her hips and gripped her waist as I pulled myself forward. Her legs were pulled tightly together, but the oil made it slick -- I pushed myself in, feeling the soft, wet heat of my mother's skin as I pushed between her legs, the tightness of her inner thighs as good as the inside of her pussy. Mom straightened up a little more, bringing her arms up and behind her as she lovingly took hold of the back of my neck, her perky breasts pushing upward.

"Fuck my thighs, baby," she moaned. "Fuck mommy's thighs, use me to cum, baby..."

I was already so close -- I pushed in and out, the sensation less of a clench, more of a soft, slippery plush, like fucking clouds. I could feel my cock pushing out past her legs and into the cool of the living room air, and the sensation of alternating cool and slick, hot heat made me shudder. Mom moaned as my cock pushed upward, fucking between her pussy lips, the slickness of her juices blending with the grapeseed oil as my cock head rubbed against her clit. She gasped as I angled myself slightly higher, emphasizing the movement on her clit.

"Fuck, your legs feel so good, mom," I moaned as I pushed in and out, fucking along her pussy.

"I want you to cum, baby," mom whined. I felt it coming -- the surge in my balls shooting upward through my pelvis, the tension ratcheting upward. "Cum between mommy's legs, cum all over mommy's couch, okay?" I felt myself groaning as I felt it, gripping upward in my taint, my aching balls starting to clench, the cum surging up.

"Cum all over mommy's thighs," mom whined. With that, my balls let go, and I started to cum, seizing as my spunk shot out, slipping between mom's thighs as I fucked in and out, some shooting outward and onto the couch of the villa, painting it with slick white. It ran down mom's legs as I kept fucking, as mom gasped while I moaned, pumping jizz all along her hamstrings, the stickiness adding to the lubed feeling while I let go of everything inside me.

I collapsed back, sticky white still dripping from my cock onto the floor. Mom propped herself on the couch with her hands, looking back, panting. White trails of cum ran down the inside of her legs. She looked down, marveling at them. "I don't know how you make so much of this stuff, Brett," she traced her hands over it and gathered some at her fingertips. She brought it up to her mouth, watching it glisten. "Maybe it's because you're young," she opened her mouth and dabbed it on her tongue, tasting it with a look of pleasant surprise. "Much, much better than your father's."

"You like the way it tastes, slut?" I asked, confident, a big, big man.

"By the way, Brett," she said, suddenly stern. "All of this talk about sluts is very, very disrespectful. You will never, ever speak like that to your mother." Her look was serious. Extremely serious.

I felt like a kid again. Like I was about to be grounded.

"I'll let it pass this time since it was so damn fun, but rest assured," she nodded with finality, "If you call your mom a slut one more time, I'm going to ground you from this for the rest of your life."

I swallowed. I could tell she meant it.

"Okay, mom."

Mom and I slaved over the couch for about an hour, trying to get my cum stains out. Once we managed to get them nearly invisible, we went out to the beach and tanned for a bit, napping in the sun and under a thick layer of oil, occasionally dipping into the ocean for a swim. I brought out a few beers from the fridge as the sun dipped lower. Mom and I shared them while we talked about school, about girls, about what made for a good date. She gave me a list of advice about taking girls out that I couldn't help but file away as things I wanted to do for her -- to get gifts, to take her to exciting locations, to have meaningful anniversaries set up.

It was weird, talking about it with my mother since she seemed to be focused on giving me the advice for me to use on other women. But she was so lovely on the beach, her swimsuit fit her waist so perfectly, her excited, eager smile was so intoxicating and attractive. I wanted to ask her on dates, to take her dancing again, to give her little wrapped boxes and hear her squeal with delight as she would open them.

My mother was almost business-like in her talk, clearly more mature and learned than I was. As her lectures continued I slipped into a sad train of thought that maybe I really would have to use this advice to help endear me to other girls. I should have been relieved. It was normal to take out girls one's own age -- it wasn't normal to want to date my own mother, to take her dancing, to ravish her for hours afterward.

I heard mom's text chime. She looked at it hesitantly. "Oh. Your father," she explained. "He's on his way back."

"Any word on dinner?"

"He's far, far too drunk to bring home dinner." Mom rolled her eyes. "You'll have to get something from the village. I'll get the table set. Thanks, honey."

By the time I got back to the villa, dad's taxi pulled up. He practically fell out of it, slurring his words. "Good afternoon, my boy. Hope you're having a good, good, quality time with your mother." In his hand, he had a half-empty fifth of some label-less drink. I could practically smell it on him, even over the fragrant food in the bag I brought from the village.

"Mom's setting up for dinner," I said, trying to avoid him. He pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it at the driver, who sullenly cursed at him under his breath.

"Your mother," said dad, trying to keep straight, "is going to put out tonight."

I laughed and stepped back as he sauntered over to the villa. "Nora!" He crashed through the front door. Mom was standing by the table, setting down some glasses. She was wearing a sun dress again, a simple white one that was longer than her others, falling just to her knees. It was simple, yet elegant. She looked like the wife of a millionaire.

"Fucking hell, Ross," mom groaned and put her hand on her head as she noticed dad making his way into the villa, bumping against the walls.

"Your husband is here," he mumbled, collapsing into a chair and bringing his bottle with him. His other hand reached out and pawed at her ass. Mom almost chuckled, lifting his hand off of her.

We ate dinner while dad tried to regale us with a story about how he almost got into a fight. Through his rapidly switching perspectives, we gathered that he was actually kicked out of another bar after getting too drunk and insulting the other patrons until the bartender could bribe him to leave, presumably with the half-empty bottle. The story took up the entire dinner -- by the time he was done, mom's eyes were practically glazed over.

"Alright, dear," she said, exhausted. "I think it's time for you to head to bed." We all stood up to clear the dishes.

Dad gave his best impression of a slick grin. "I think so too, babe." He sauntered over to mom and put his arm around her, whispering in her ear. Mom made sad eye contact with me, but it really was almost funny, seeing dad try to play cool with mom after all of his ridiculous behavior.

"I mean it," he said, his whisper practically a shout. "I'm going to give you a wild, wild night tonight."

"I think," mom said, pulling herself free, "I'd rather just watch television tonight. I have a headache."

"Me too," dad moaned, lifting his hands to his forehead. He stumbled back to his drink and popped the top, going back to drinking. "What are we watching?"

Mom stared at him, beleaguered. "Whatever's on." The television flicked on and a music show appeared on the screen. Costumes full of glitter, judges in tight suits and sparkling dresses dazzled an excited audience, fast Spanish blitzing from the speakers.

"God, I love this show," he said, practically falling into the living room. He collapsed on the couch that mom and I had just cleaned. It occurred to me that in a way, he was now laying on my spunk. It wasn't a sexy thought, but it was funny. He patted the cushions, staring hungrily at mom. "Come on, Nora. Come to papa."

I settled into the armchair and watched mom try to come up with something, anything that would keep herself out of his grasp. She seemed revolted by him. "I think I'll just sit on Brett's lap," she said reluctantly.

"Have it your way," dad mumbled, closing his eyes. "He's just a little boy." His words dissolved into a slur as the drink pulled his eyes downward.

Mom came over and settled onto me, her soft bottom pressing onto my thighs. Her legs were cool on mine, and her hair cascaded down as her back settled onto my chest. I could see the tan lines along her neck and back, gliding down to the top of the sun dress. Her arm that was out of sight from dad smoothed down along my side and settled on the inside of my leg. She gave it a squeeze and sighed.

I watched as dad listlessly took in the sights and sounds of the show. He wasn't asleep -- that was for sure. He was awake, mindless, just letting the stimulus of the television pass the time for him.

In the meantime, mom's hand moved up and down my leg. I felt myself getting hard again.

"This show is a little boring for me, baby," she whispered in my ear. She brought her hidden hand upward between my legs, and smoothed her palm over my cock through my pants.

"You want some entertainment?" I whispered back. I had a hand that was hidden too. It moved up and felt at the thin cotton of her dress along her lower back, and drifted down her waist to her soft, cushioned hip. She was cool to the touch. "I can give you something."

"Would you?" She asked, whispering.

"Keep it down," dad suddenly said from the couch. Mom froze and I jumped. We watched him like hawks, suddenly aware that if we were going to try anything, we had to be extremely cautious.

"Alright, honey," mom's voice was high artificially, trying to placate him.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Mom turned her face to mine and gave me a soft, silent kiss on the cheek. It was a lovely feeling, the wetness of her lips leaving a cold spot on me. My cock raged upward, pushing against her ass through her dress. She gave an extremely subtle wiggle, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Her hand pressed into my thigh, insistent.

My own hand wound down her leg and gently pulled at the edge, lifting it up and along her hidden leg. I saw her eyes glancing toward dad on the couch, but he was riveted to the screen. His only movement was to uncork his bottle and to take another pull, and after that he was refocused on a new musical number.

On the screen, a girl wearing a dress that seemed almost entirely out of sequins started a hip-gyrating number, the music intense and loud, her dark, full lips mouthing a sultry promise as her curves twisted and cocked back and forth, promising the viewers that any man who had her for the night would receive pleasures unfathomable from her strong, rapidly twisting hips. Dad wouldn't look away. I wouldn't have either, except that I had my own woman sitting on my lap, her own plush hips giving imperceptible movements that shot lovely, pressured feelings on my junk.

Sensing that dad was fully distracted, her hand went up and along her leg, reaching for something under her dress. I saw something small, lacey, black pulling down her leg.

My eyes must have gone wider than the television screen as I realized mom was taking off her panties.

She looked at me, lids heavy, her lips parted. "Your mother's being bad," she whispered at me. "What are you going to do?" Her closed hand moved upward to mine, and her fingers opened. Her panties dropped into my fingers, and I held them, stunned. They were slightly damp, undoubtedly from the place between her legs, which were shining in the light of the television, crossed over mine.

"You're going to touch me," I said. Mom's eyebrows went up in response. "And you're going to spread your legs and let me fuck you while we're on this couch." Her eyebrows went a little higher. But she didn't seem that surprised. It was as if it was what my mother wanted, expected.

"What if we get caught?" She asked, amused. Her eyes traced over dad's distracted form on the couch.

She had a point. I knew dad was stuck on the television, but it wouldn't take much for him to just turn his head and to see what was going on. The heightened risk and excitement cranked up my erection. It was dangerous. It was fun. My own mother seemed to agree.

"We won't," I said carefully, thinking. "Not if you keep quiet." I drew a hand up and traced it along her jaw, and she leaned back, settling against me. I traced a finger against her lips and she opened her mouth, taking my fingers into her mouth. She started to suck on them gently, silently, her eyes on my dad who was still engrossed in the television. My fingers trailed in her mouth and hooked her lower lip while I used my other hand to pull down my pants.

We moved agonizingly slowly, watching dad the entire time. The song on the screen was coming to an end. My pants were low on my hips. I could feel the cotton of her dress against my skin. I saw a hand of hers pulling upward on one side of her dress, baring her thigh, her hip, the tan lines barely visible in the blue light of the screen.

From dad's point of view, it must have looked normal. Maybe if he had turned to look at us, the only clue would have been our uncomfortable shifting, maybe an awkward stare back. But what we were doing was invisible -- mom's dress was mostly down and around her legs. My own legs and pants were hidden by mom sitting on top of me.

Mom kept pulling the side of her dress up. My fingers pulled out of her lips with a barely audible pop and then slipped down, went along her hip, moved up her smooth waist, pushed up her chest and felt that underneath her sun dress she wasn't wearing a bra. My mother's perky nipple was under my fingers while my other hand inched the waistline of my pants downward.

Her own hands brought the edge of her dress all the way up. From where dad was sitting, he might have been able to see a bit of her tummy as the dress pulled upward, but another song started, another lovely girl on screen shook her hips while his eyes dropped lower and lower, his fingers barely clinging to his bottle.

Mom shifted, her hands moving to the armrests. She pushed herself up, slowly, the wood structure making a small creak. She froze, watched dad's non reaction. She looked at me, trembling. She kept rising. Her glorious, plush ass rose up and over my waist -- my cock was out, I was throbbing in my hand as I guided it down, aiming for the soft spot between her legs.

She looked back and locked eyes with me. My mother stared at me as we took in the seriousness of the situation -- I was her son, she was my mother, and I was about to be deep, deep inside her, while her husband, my father, was sitting just feet away, drunk. The excitement was extreme. I could see her flush in the light of the TV. I could also see the faint glimmer of her wetness between her legs as she slowly inched down, her cunny approaching me, inch by inch. I could sense the heat between her legs -- then the humidity in the invisible space, then I could feel the soft, wet flesh of her pussy lips as she smoothly went down.

I was at her entrance. She held her breath, glancing toward my dad.

I heard my dad groan. The song was over. Mom froze completely -- all he had to do to see her propped up just above my cock was turn by about thirty degrees. It would have taken nothing -- he would see us, and a nightmare would begin... but he didn't turn. Instead, he started to snore, his eyes falling shut. The new song started. It was a slow ballad. There was no way he would wake up.

I felt mom's pussy trembling as it touched lightly at the head of my cock. It was hot, slick, the heat and anticipation kept growing, only heightened at dad's interruption.

"Lower," I mouthed to mom, who obediently settled down, taking me in. As her cunny lips slipped around my length, I rolled my head back, soaking in the pleasure that was my mom's cunt, the hot wetness massaging all along my cock as she took me in, inch by inch. I heard her give a slow, slow gasp as I went inside her, until I was all the way in, and she mouthed the words, 'so full,' as she pushed her hips down onto me, her eyelids closing in bliss.

"Move on me," I whispered. Mom wordlessly rocked her hips, and I felt my cock sliding along inside of her as she gave a silent moan. We kept looking over at dad, whose snoring was now constant. It wouldn't have mattered if he had woken up -- even if he looked at us, forcing us to stop, all he would have seen was his wife sitting quietly on his son's lap while his son almost seemed asleep. But while he wasn't looking, mom moved herself back and forth on me, her mouth open as she savored the feeling of her young son twitching inside her.

"This is so bad, baby..." she whispered. The sound was electric.

Mom kept moving on me, but it wasn't fast enough. I brought up both of my hands and grabbed onto her hips, and she bit her lip, waiting for me to take control. I pushed her back and forth on me. A soft, slick sound came from between her legs as I moved her back and forth, making her pussy fuck on my cock, forward and backward. I felt the head of my cock massaging something deep, deep within her, way back, and she felt it too. She bit her lip harder, suppressing a moan.

I moved her on me faster, and I could see her smiling in ecstasy in the darkness. "Oh baby," I heard her words between the wet sounds coming from her cunny as she moved on me. "Use me, baby. Like mommy's your little slut."

I suppressed my own groan as her dirty talk whispered into my ear.

"You like it when you're deep inside your own mother? When you make her feel so, so full with her baby's cock?" I heard her gasp as I pushed deeper. "Oh, honey, you know you're bigger than your father, right? You're touching me in there, so deep, baby... my baby boy with his big, pretty cock..."

Her hips started to gyrate on their own. I felt the pleasure sucking upward through my cock as the music of her pussy juices made their slick sounds, faster and faster. My mother's ass ground on me, the warm musk of her cunt rising around me.

She stiffened as she went faster and faster, barely suppressing a whine. My hand went up and clapped over her mouth, smothering her noises, pulling her backward. The back of her head was pressed against my cheek, the intimacy of our position more than anything I had ever dreamed or wanted out of sex -- and it was with the perfect woman, my mother, while her husband lay passed out just feet away.

Mom started to shudder, the strength of my hand over her mouth seeming to do it for her. She brought her own hand up and pulled my palm off of her mouth, and she brought it down, wrapping my fingers around her neck.

If dad were to wake up and see, it would now be obvious. And mom was making noise, her gasps barely hidden, the slick sound of her pussy fucking on my cock now totally apparent. But I didn't want to hide it. Mom didn't either. She bucked, faster, her core stiffening tighter as she started to rise to orgasm, excited by my hand on her throat, by the risk of her husband laying there, by the fact that her own son was under her, barely keeping his own noises contained. I groaned, biting her neck, hard, until she made an audible gasp. I could feel the cum in me rising. I could feel it starting.

"Mom," I hissed in her ear, while she rolled her head back, her breathing now heavy, each movement of her chest now a tremendous, sexy risk. "Mom. I have to cum."

Mom's hand reached back and grabbed into my hair. She turned her head and kissed me, her tongue pushing into my mouth, her gasping brushing along me, lost in the pleasure.

"Mom!" I tried to make it more clear. It was rising in me. My taint clenched -- I felt something rising from deep within me, my balls were starting to constrict as I felt the pleasure surging forward. "Mom, listen, I'm going to cum."

"Wait, baby," she whispered urgently in my ear. "I'm almost there," her pleasure filled gasps were above the sound level of the television. The light illuminated us, the movement would be apparent -- any man laying there would wake up by now, and see us, writhing in unstoppable pleasure, my cock pushing up against her deepest spot while she ratcheted closer and closer, breaching the tipping point of orgasm.

Mom's neck tensed, then her back, then her hips as she pushed onto me. I could see the strain and effort as she rode on my cock, more urgent than I had ever seen her, as the orgasm climbed up from her pelvis. "Oh, fuck!" Mom's words were harsh in my ears. "Fuck, baby, mommy's cumming!" It was loud, deafening in my ear, I'm sure it was barely a whisper in reality but my eyes shot to my dad, who was stirring on the couch.

I felt my mom's pussy constricting around my cock, and the orgasm suddenly ripped through her. Her mouth opened wide and I felt one of her hands clenching at my hair, so tight I thought she could tear off my scalp, while her other hand went down and gripped on my thigh, her nails digging in, harder than I had ever felt her grip anything. Dad was still moving -- I felt panic, pleasure, as he rolled over, while mom writhed on my cock. I felt the heat go molten around her cunt -- her pussy flooded with her juice and she ground against me, harder, the orgasm taking her completely.

I couldn't hold it in -- I was about to cum too. I could barely see dad's shape, but hoped that somehow he couldn't see anything, that he wasn't awake.

"Mom, please," I begged her, "I'm going to come inside if you don't get up."

I felt it building upward, my cock was throbbing, my balls were clenching -- the cum was surging upward. I felt it, unstoppable, shooting up --

Mom made a reluctant whine as she shifted off of me -- a slick sucking noise shot through the living room as her pussy let go of my cock.

And I came.

My cum shot upward, splashing, casting up her bare lower back, while mom made an infinitely small gasp with each hot, sticky shot of my load that went all up and down her backside, dripping down, rolling onto her ass. I felt myself still convulsing, the power and liquid still rocketing up my shaft. Mom was moving too -- still orgasming.

And dad was still moving.

I clenched my hand around my mother's neck and forced her downward, trying to get her to hold still, but she was still shaking, half-lost in the throes that my cock gave her before she pulled off of me. I pressed my cock against her bottom, and felt my cock melting against her, my cum slipping around on her backside as she grinded against me.

I saw dad open his eyes. He started to roll towards us.

My hand ducked down and pulled the edge of her dress downward, gripping her hip tightly and forcing her on to me harder. It should have been painful, but I was trying desperately to give my mom the message that she had to freeze, absolutely, to avoid any hint of movement.

Dad's eyes flicked upward.

He made eye contact with me.

I must have been panicking because he looked at me with a funny smile growing on his face. It was possible that he was too drunk to see what was going on, to see that his son's cock was pressed against his wife's ass -- cum slick along her back and butt.

Mom and I were hidden by the length of the dress, barely long enough to keep our privates covered, long enough to ensure that in dad's drunken observation that he wouldn't see anything. Or would he? Dad's eyes narrowed. I heard a breath sucking in from the couch.

"You two," I heard him slur slowly, the suspicious tone growing.

Mom was frozen on me. Her eyes were wide, wide open as she tried to keep still, my hot seed dripping down her, smearing against my waist, streaks of it pulling downward along our bodies.

Dad blinked a few times, trying to register what he saw. It was clear -- mom was embarrassed, scared. I was trying to keep myself still but my hands were clearly on my mom's hips. We were flushed and sweaty from what we were just doing, and if dad was at all conscious as mom made her noise before I came on her, then he would have an inkling of what was going on.

"You two," he continued, attempting to sit up. "You're acting so weird. All day, every day, you both are acting so fucking weird." He stood up, half rolling off the couch. Mom held her breath and started to shake on me. I was shaking too. Dad was about to come over and take a closer look. "Brett, you're close with your mother, aren't you? Too close."

He stumbled toward the kitchen, turning on a light, dragging his bottle with him. The light would make it obvious. His new angle would make it even more so -- from where he stood, mom's bare back was visible -- her soft flesh was pressed on my hips, my pants were clearly down. The light would reflect the fluid I had spent, the cum that dripped up her lower back and all along our waists.

But dad didn't seem to notice. He opened the cabinets and grabbed a bag of chips, turned off the television as if we weren't there, and then wandered toward the stairs. I heard him mumbling to himself. "Fucking momma's boy. I'm not jealous, you are. You're jealous." His footsteps plodded up the stairs.

Mom and I sat together in the fluorescent light of the kitchen, our fluids mingling. Mom stared at me, shocked, relieved. She started to shift upward, my cock smearing against her, between the cheeks of her butt. Her legs were shaking. She could barely stand. Her hand went behind her back and she gaped, feeling how much of myself I poured directly against her.

We looked at each other forever, trying to figure out what the hell it all meant. Mom took a deep breath. "I think it's time for you to go to bed. We'll have to talk about it in the morning. Maybe."

She got up, careful. I saw my seed all along her lower back -- and I thought back to our first time on the secret beach, the way the tanning oil looked just like jizz after a pullout. And here was my mother -- my cum all along her back, dripping, gorgeous in the light of the kitchen. She got some napkins and wiped it up, looking at me.

I thought ahead, almost for the first time in my life. About going to bed, by myself. About mom going to sleep on the couch, or worse, going to sleep in the same bed as dad. It was looking like a lonely night unless I could change something.

"Do... you want to sleep with me?" I asked, hesitantly.

Mom gave a light smile. Relief filled her face. She smiled at me with motherly care, as if she were flattered by someone small and adorable, almost as if I were a small child who just told her she was beautiful.

"I'd love to, baby," she said. "But I don't know if it'd be wise with your father around. He'd find some way to make it an issue, I'm sure."

I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. She gathered some blankets from the hall closet, already preparing a spot for herself on the couch.

"Alright," I said, still dizzy from the afterglow. I retreated toward my room. "Goodnight, mom."

"Good night, son," she said from the living room. "I love you."

Those words created a little flame of bliss in me.

"I love you too, mom," I said, meaning it more than I ever meant anything in my entire life. I closed my door, collapsed into my bed, and sank into a perfect and dreamless sleep.​