Incest/Taboo Nora in the Sun

Mom was changing in the bathroom, with the door locked. I waited anxiously for her, sitting on the bed, wearing the best I had. A pair of chinos. A button up shirt. Leather shoes. I even had product in my hair thanks to the mirror next to the bed. I did everything I could to look decent for my mom -- even if it meant it looked like I was a sex obsessed college kid trying to go a big boy dance club for the first time.

I heard the bathroom door clicking. Her hair dryer had been quiet for a few minutes, so I could only guess that she was ready, in as much as any girl could be ready when it was still light out.

But hot damn, mom was more ready than any girl I ever thought I'd see.

The first thing I noted were lips -- dark, red, a highlight against the soft curve of her chin. Flush, tastefully rouged cheeks. Dark eyes with lashes that were darker. Long, long hair that curved down in careful curls. Mom's lovely neck, the elegant lined collar bones of a queen, soft, light shoulders that held hints of tan lines.

And she wore a dress that could put any girl to shame, forever. Following the contours of her body, it curved up and around her in a way that made her ass look incredible -- firm, wondrously curvy, while tightening around her waist in a way that highlighted just how much she had tried over the years to keep fit. The dress itself was black, but it was woven through with gold colored threading that drew upward from her hips and along her sides, emphasizing the curve of her breasts. Low cut. High thigh. It made her legs look even longer than usual. Dark nylons stretched from her little shoes, and all the way up.

It looked like she came off the cover of Cosmopolitan -- dripping with sexual appeal. Like sexual royalty.

Mom looked at me expectantly. "Well?"

"Gorgeous," I admitted.

Mom gave a soft smile that broke the illusion, and once again, she was my mother. My sweet, lovely, beautiful mom. Except she was intensely sexy, and we were completely alone in a place that not even my dad knew about. Feelings swirled in me -- I wanted to hold her hand, to bend her over, to kiss her on the cheek, to fuck her senseless, to tell her I loved her, to make her scream in orgasmic delight, to tell her she was a great mom. All these things spun around me in a vortex. I couldn't decide what I wanted more.

It was time to take her dancing.

"Ready?" I asked, holding out my arm.

"Ready," she said, grinning.

We rode the elevator down, standing next to each other, her bare arm pressing lightly on my side, entwined in my own arm. Everyone we passed did a double take -- I wasn't sure if it was because mom was obviously much older than me, or if it was because she was so ethereally beautiful.

A short taxi ride took us into downtown Cancun, where we went to dinner, sipping wine, eating light food, eying each other through the entirety. There was a nightclub close by. Our thoughts were on it, and we kept our conversation minimal -- only a comment about the vinaigrette, the flavor of the oils, the delicate taste of spice and wine. Mom's eyes were so dark, so lovely. Between bites, her hand would move up to her cheek and her fingers would lightly touch at her ear, as she turned, looking at me, pondering.

My mother kept glancing at my arms. My neck. My chest. Time moved in slow motion as she drank one glass of wine. Then another. Her cheeks went pink as she finished it.

We finished, and she paid. The waiter glanced between us several times as he took mom's card, processing our age difference and the way we looked at each other.

We stepped out and walked down the street -- a nightclub was only a couple blocks away. Mom linked her arm in mine as we walked up to the bouncer, who did a single up and down look at mom's lovely curves under her dress, and then nodded, letting us in.

"I guess there's perks to having a mother like me," said mom in my ear as the club swallowed us up, the music deafening, the lights flashing, a crowd of gorgeous girls and well dressed men, blending together in a haze of drinks and dance.

The next hour was a blur -- Mom and I alternated shots with mixed drinks, periodically moving to the dance floor, where the gold thread shimmered on her -- her hair swinging back and forth, the elegant quality of her dress and makeup making her look leagues above the rest of the girls on the dance floor. Occasionally somebody would come up to my mom, offer her a drink. Guys with slicked hair. Open shirts. Watches. Mom put her hand up to each one and drew close to me each time. Elegant. Purposeful.

It felt so, so good to see them so disappointed.

After a round of tequila shots, mom and I got close on the dance floor and moved with slow purpose. It didn't matter that the pace of the music was high -- that mixed forms were grinding on each other, the scent of sweat and booze and the spice of bodies permeated the air. We moved close to each other, melting together -- I felt myself getting harder as she pressed the indent of her hip on me, pulling her arms around my neck, looking at me with dark, dark eyes.

"Do you want to get out of here?" A line I used at parties. Now boldly used on my mom -- my mother. If it were just two years ago, I would have asked her if she would just get out of my room, but now I was asking her to leave this club, with me, to go... somewhere else. Somewhere more private. A room.

Mom smiled at me. I could tell she felt like a girl in college again -- drunk, free, without a care. Her pink cheeks and her dark red lips mouthed the words, "let's go." We grabbed one more round of shots and stumbled out, drunk, the color and sound of the nightclub fading and the jealous looks of dozens of men in a line we completely skipped passing us by.

The taxi ride was a quick one back. Mom watched me from her seat, leaned back against the window, a finger gently hooked in the corner of her mouth. Our ears rang from the volume of the club, but when we exited the taxi by the entrance to the resort, the soft sound of the surf emerged, and we walked, warm, dizzy from the alcohol, urgently into the hotel.

I opened the door to our room as mom leaned against the wall, trying to keep her head upright. She looked at me, knowing what was coming. What we were about to do. Knowing that despite the fact that I was her son, we were about to touch.

To do more.

My mother's face didn't seem to have the guilt that it did before. It was flush with alcohol, with expectation. She had a look of acceptance -- drunk, loving acceptance.

We stumbled in as the door opened -- her body pushing against mine accidentally. I caught her side as she fell against the wall, trying to keep upright. The door closed, and we were entwined, were pressed together. I could feel her breath on my neck, my knee between her soft, lovely legs. Mom's breasts were pushed against my chest -- she looked up, her eyes half glazed. Her lips open. A forbidden look on her face.

"Hey, Brett," her words whispered through her dark red lips. "What are we doing here?"

"We're back at the resort," I replied, surprised that she'd even ask.

"That's not what I meant," she said. Mom smiled. "We're in this room, alone, and my son is awfully close to his mother, isn't he?"

I looked down. The straps along her shoulders were so thin. I drew a hand up and pulled one down, over her arm. She moved a hand upward and pulled down the other one. "What are we doing, Brett?" She asked again. Her hands went up and smoothed upward along my core, up my chest. Her breath smelled like tequila and warm sugar and cinnamon.

Her fingers left me, went to the top of her chest. Lightly touched at the top of her dress. Hooked under it. "What do you want me to do, Brett?"

"Take it off," I breathed.

Mom pulled the edges down by an inch. Her soft skin looked so white and pale. She looked up at me mischievously. "How much?"

I reached up and took the edges from her. Pulled it down at my own pace. She took in a deep breath as my fingers dragged down her breasts, peeling away the fabric, the mounds of her breasts pushing upward through the dress, her fragile, pale skin only barely colored. Soft, coral colors emerged. Her areolas were there now. A trembling pink.

Mom moved closer to me, pulling me against her hip. She bit her lip, feeling my knee pressing against her apex. "Baby, what are we going to do?"

I reached down, grabbed under her legs, lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around me and pressed her cheek against mine. I carried her to the bed. Threw her down. She made a soft squeal as she fell onto the sheets, her arms stretching out, light fingers gripping the fabric. She looked up at me, her legs crossed. Her eyes shining.

My mother lay on the bed before me. Her dress was hiked up along her legs. I could see the nylons reaching up, her hips barely covered by her skirt. Her fingers traced along the bottom of her dress, and she lifted it by a mere inch, watching my reaction.

"Take it off," I ordered.

"That's no way to talk to your mother," she sighed, lifting it another inch. The lacy black of her panties were now visible under the nylons, the smoothness of her hip just above their edge now bare. The glimmer of mom's sensitive white skin was blinding in the dark. "You first," she added. Her eyes tracing over my cock as it made a visible imprint against my pants.

I unbuttoned my shirt while mom watched. Her breathing grew more obvious as the shirt fell. I unbuttoned my pants, let them fall, and mom's eyes snapped to my cock as it sprang up. "Ohh..." she sucked in a breath. "I must have given you those genes, because that cock is so, so pretty."

"Take off your dress," I ordered her again. My cock ached, even though it was free -- it wanted to satisfy her, to go into the mouth that had just complimented it.

"Whatever you want, baby," she sat up on the bed, pulling the dress up and over her face. It climbed past her waist, the pale skin of her tight tummy now visible, and then went up and over her chest. Her heavy breasts dropped, the nipples bright pink. The dress drifted back, her face again visible. It fell behind the bed. Mom now sat, leaning on one arm in the bed, topless, only the sexy nylons and panties left.

I felt my cock reacting, throbbing. My heart pounded in my chest -- I couldn't help myself anymore. I couldn't control it -- I needed her. I need the rest of her naked, now, I needed to be inside her. Now.

I rushed forward, jumping on the bed, leaping over mom, grabbing her arms and forcing them to either side of her head. She looked at me, wide eyed. "Brett..." her breath brushed against my neck as I moved my face close to hers. "What are you going to do?"

I want it, mom," I said, unable to stop myself. "I need it. I need it now."

She looked at me with earnest, heated eyes. "Take it," she whispered.

I let go of her arms, reached down, pulling on the nylons with an urgency and strength I forgot I had. They strung off of her, her panties going with them, and her legs, long, firm, lovely, pale, opened for me. I could see her pussy in its prettiness, the perfect lips, the pink slit, a jewel of a nub. She was already wet -- soaked, the lips red with arousal.

I pulled forward, my cock brushing against the inside of her leg. I brought myself up to her, forcing her legs wider, moving closer to her. She was already whining, even her breath begged me to enter her. Mom stared at me, as I felt the slick warmth between her legs make contact.

I pushed the head of my cock against my mother's pussy and watched as her eyes widened. Her mouth opened. I slipped in, the wetness guiding me, the heat inside her swallowing up my cock, and I sank in, pushing hard and she rolled her eyes back, the pleasure of my entry overtaking her. "Fuck, Brett!"

"Mom," I groaned as I started to fuck, making slick noises in and out of her. Her cunt felt impossibly tight, clenching on me. I didn't hesitate. I drove in and out of her, making the fullest use of my length, her gasps timing with the movement of my cock as each push inward made her writhe. I pushed in and held it, and mom sighed, shaking, tense.

Then my mother's phone rang. Dad's ringtone.

Mom's eyes shot open. We stopped, looking at each other, completely interrupted, entirely stuck as the ringtone went on, and on, and on. I felt my cock stirring inside mom -- she was still reacting to the sensation, still tense, impaled, but the phone was interrupting everything. She seemed frozen.

It stopped. But the voicemail chime didn't go off.

"Maybe he's given up?" I asked. In response to my ridiculous hope, the phone went off again from mom's purse. She looked at me, hesitant, mildly horrified.

"I have to answer it," she said reluctantly.

"No you don't."

"He very rarely calls twice," she replied. "Your father only gets insistent like this when there's an emergency." She started to shift. My cock pulled out of her as she pulled back, trying to get up.

I felt my blood boiling. "Or when he's really angry," I tried to reason with her. "Fuck him. He's been such a fucking prick the whole trip -- let him deal with it." The phone went on urgently.

"He might be in trouble, and if that's the case, I'm his wife, you're his son, and we'll need to do something about it," mom said, firm, as if everything we were doing over the last day never happened -- as if I were just a brat that didn't give a shit about his dad. She went over to her purse, pulled out the phone, and answered it. I got off the bed and stood by it, waiting, impatient, frustrated that mom was bowing to dad again like this.

"Ross?" She hit an icon on the screen and put her husband on speakerphone.

"Nora, for fuck's sake," dad's voice carried harshly and loudly, making both of us wince. Mom eyed me as we detected more annoyance in dad than emergency-related urgency. "Do you have any fucking idea how rude it is to ghost me like that?"

"Somewhat," said mom, rolling her eyes. She looked so incredibly sexy, hip cocked, a hand around her waist, completely nude, talking on the phone with her husband while his voice went on in an agitated rage.

"Where the hell have you been? And where the fuck is Brett?"

Mom pursed her lips as she hesitated. I couldn't imagine her not having some kind of plan, some kind of lie prepared. She was too smart, too forward thinking to let something like this slip.

"Hello?" Dad's voice sounded like nails.

"Chetumal isn't that big, Ross," mom said, her voice even. "I thought you would have run into us by now, what with all your drinking." She looked at me, her mind clearly running gears. She looked down at my cock and made a quick blink. An idea was forming.

Dad went quiet. "You're still in Chetumal?" He finally asked.

"Where do you think we went?" Mom's voice drew out sarcastically, her stare fixated on my cock. "It's not like we would have flown back." She stepped over to me. Looked up at me. Back down to my cock. Her hand left her waist, her fingers trailing up the length of my cock.

"I have no fucking clue, Nora -- I wake up, there's no note, no explanation, and you're gone all fucking day without answering your phone."

Mom's fingers curled around me. I felt myself getting harder in response, little sparks of pleasure going up my shaft as she smoothly moved her hand up my cock, then down.

Dad's voice continued while mom jerked me slowly. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you. For a few minutes today I figured you guys were kidnapped by the fucking cartel or something."

"I didn't know you cared, Ross," Mom murmured. I felt my cock twitching in pleasure as she started to jerk me faster. She looked up at me, watching me as I listened in.

"I don't feel like paying a ransom, Nora. Or for insurance, every time I go on vacation," dad's lecture went on as a mischievous glint appeared in mom's eye. The way she looked at me was strange. It was almost like the way she looked at me when we were in the kitchen, and dad was giving mom a hard time from the couch. It was exactly the look mom gave me before...

In real time, while my dad's voice hammered through the phone, my mother dropped to her knees, her lovely nakedness now below me, her face approaching my waist while she jerked at me. She looked at my cock more closely, hardly even listening to dad, entranced by the way I was reacting to her touch. She was breathing, focused, thinking, watching the way the head twitched and flexed as she jerked me off faster, watching as my hips involuntarily moved as I felt the pleasure my own mother gave me while dad was on the phone.

"Oh Ross," my mom interrupted dad's rant, which stopped abruptly. "It can't be that bad." Her tone was calculated. Precise. Barely a hint of bitch.

"Can't be that bad?" Dad's voice rose and mom smiled, getting the exact reaction she wanted out of him. And then she locked eyes with me, looking up... and then she moved forward and in a fluid motion took my entire cock into her hot, wet mouth. She must have gotten the exact reaction she wanted out of me too because she started smiling even as dad's voice got louder from the phone.

I couldn't even hear what he was saying, but he was definitely talking, now angry. But the volume was covered up as mom's mouth sucked on me, her hand on the base of my cock, still jerking me lightly as her mouth slicked over me. I couldn't help it -- I started moaning as mom's saliva coated my length, as I felt surges of pleasure and power while mom's tongue moved up and down the underside of my shaft.

Dad went on for what felt like minutes, the seconds stretching as mom grew artful with the way she was blowing me. Dad's voice carried through the hotel room while the gentle sound of wetness came from mom's movements, while I shook with pleasure at the way her tongue curled around my cock, the way her hands went lower and gently cupped my balls. Her tongue went over my head, swirling in a circle, a lapping noise obvious as dad's voice slowed. I realized if I could hear the sound, so could dad. He was on speakerphone.

I looked down at mom and mouthed, "we need to be quieter," as if we were just two kids hiding from parents. But mom looked up at me, defiant, sucking harder, jerking faster, trying to elicit a reaction out of me while the juicy sounds of her mouth on my cock grew louder. She got her reaction. I felt the power of a train running through my taint, running up my cock as the pleasure increased tenfold, mom's enthusiasm and the excitement of my dad actually hearing the noises multiplying everything I was feeling by leaps. I shuddered, trying to keep my vocals suppressed, but a groan escaped me as I got lost in the wet, hot sensation of my mother's lovely mouth.

"Nora?" Dad's voice was different. "Nora, I'm hearing something on your end."

Mom sucked on me, hard, and then pulled her head back. My cock popped out of her mouth with an audible sound, the exact kind you could hear from porn -- the unmistakable sound, the one that could not be confused with anything else. Dad went quiet.

Mom paused for a second, a thin trail of her saliva connecting my cock to her lower lip. She looked up at me and held the phone closer to her. "What is it, Ross? Are you inside or something? Because I can hear you loud and clear."

"No," dad said, suspicious. "You said you were with Brett, right?"

Mom's mouth went back up to my cock. She licked at my head, and moved a hand up my legs, feeling my hamstrings and then going up and holding me by my backside as she guided my hard, throbbing cock between her lips again. As it filled her slick mouth, she made a sound of affirmation. "Mhm." The hum buzzed over me, everything about the situation making my cock flex involuntarily.

She pulled back, purposefully letting as much spit cling to my shaft as possible. Multiple trails of it now followed along her lips, the wet, sticky noise painfully obvious.

"You're not... somewhere else?" Dad sounded nervous. "What are you doing, Nora? Where are you?"

Mom took her sweet time, licking my cock, the slick sounds of her lips slipping up and down making their way to the phone, which was right next to my cock. Then she pulled her mouth back, the suction on my cock head making another wet pop. The kind of sound that was unmistakable to any man who had ever seen a porno. Dad heard. Dad would know exactly what that sound was. He was quiet for unending minutes while I knew he would think about that sound, about his wife's evasiveness. Mom smiled as she made a sigh. "Ross, I'm with Brett. He's right here."

Dad's voice was high. More concerned than I had ever heard. "Put him on, Nora. Is he actually there? You didn't answer my question, Nora, where are you?"

"A restaurant," mom sighed innocently. "Where do you think?"

"Nora, it's one in the morning!" Dad sounded panicked. "What the fuck am I hearing on the phone, Nora? God damn it, answer me!"

"I'm enjoying something..." mom's voice was sultry, slow. Intentional. "...very tasty. Really, Ross, I'm in the middle of something here."

"Nora?!" Dad was practically shouting. "Nora, where the fuck is Brett? Put him on. Put him on, right fucking now, if he's really even with you."

Mom said nothing as she slipped her mouth over my cock again, a slight moan escaping her as she narrowed her eyes, savoring the precum that leaked from my tip. She made sure to make a slight slurping noise as she made sure her movement was as wet with spit as she could possibly make it. I shuddered, glorying in the sensation.

"Nora? Nora?!" Dad really was yelling now. Actually panicked. Afraid of what his wife was doing with something in her mouth.

Mom looked up to me and passed me the phone. "For fuck's sake, Ross. I can't enjoy a meal? Brett. It's your dad," she explained, acting annoyed.

I opened my mouth to greet him but mom immediately took my cock into her mouth, sucking with her hot, wet mouth, pouring her saliva over my shaft, moving her head back and forth more quickly than before, grabbing my hips as leverage as she fucked her face over my length, making my knees buckle. "Hey dad," I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was practically impossible. "What's up?"

"Oh." His voice dropped immediately. "Brett. It's you. Huh." He sounded confused. But relieved. "I thought... Well, it almost sounded like... Never mind. Where exactly are you guys?"

"Uhh..." I tried to think of something but mom's mouth moved over me faster and faster. I tried to break through the haze of sensation that mom plunged me into, and wildly came up with a dumb lie. "Some restaurant. I have no idea." Smart.

"Oh," Dad's voice came through, unsure. "You alright, Brett? You sound... different."

"I'm really fucking hammered," I said, trying to keep my speech under control as mom drew me in deeper, pulling the entirety of my cock into her mouth, the head bumping against her throat, which was already working and tightening around me. "Fuck, mom, I mean dad," I blinked, trying to correct myself. "I'm just... they have this tequila here, it's really wet, I mean, it's really hot... I mean, I'm just fucked up right now." Mom made eye contact with me, a smile almost visible on her face as she strained to take every last bit of me as far into her as possible. She pulled back as I finished my ridiculous excuse, her mouth popping off of my cock again, streams of her saliva falling from her mouth in lines. She was gasping.

"You both sound... fucking ridiculous," complained dad. "Put your mother back on the phone." I passed the phone to mom, who stood back up. In a fluid motion, she turned around, leaned forward, putting her elbows on the bed, pushing her ass out to me. Her head turned slightly to look behind her.

"Hi Ross, go ahead," she said, still catching her breath.

"You're both drunk off your asses, aren't you," dad said, back to ranting, once again unaware that anything was going on.

In the meantime, mom's ass shifted from side to side, her calves flexing as she lifted one side, and then the other, as she teased me and tried to get me to put myself inside her. Her eyes were dark, her cheeks flushed from the deepthroating, from the tension and excitement of having dad on the line. "We may have had a few cocktails," mom said, emphasizing the word cock by pushing her ass back, her eyes begging me to come closer.

I stepped behind her. In the light of the bedroom, I could see much, much more of her body, her behind than when we were on the docks. Her pale, ample cheeks were wide, sure, but they were so firm, so tight and fit for her age, her legs deliciously sweeping downward with flawless skin.

And her cunny presented itself there, slick, a darkened pink. Her legs spread out and mom opened herself for me, each cheek still moving up and down as she did everything she could to allure me to herself -- to bring my cock to her, to fill her in a wild and seductive dance that most men could only dream of witnessing.

I obeyed her desire and pushed the head of my cock against her entrance. My mother looked back, her eyes a mystery, but the forbidden and insane nature of our incestual consummation filling her gaze with a wild lust that couldn't be hidden. Or controlled. Mom pushed back, making a soft whine.

"A few cocktails?"

Mom opened her mouth, begging me, the look on her face, in her eyes, completely shattering my inhibitions. I had to be inside her. I needed it -- I needed to drive deep in my mother's cunt. She turned to face forward again, just as I pushed forward, mounting her, her voice barely starting an answer as I drove into her cunt with a single thrust, the slickness allowing her pussy lips to give way -- and as I fucked into her, her breath caught and she made a noise, like an animal in heat. I saw her back tensing, her head throwing back, her hair whipping up and along her back as she arched in uncontrollable pleasure, unable to control herself as I put all of me deep inside my own mom.

I didn't hesitate. I started fucking -- and I slammed against her over and over, the pleasure driving me insane, mom making noises that she could only suppress by clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Hello? Nora?" Dad's voice came from the phone which was now laying on the bed, just out of reach from mom's hands, one tight over her mouth, the other gripping the sheets as I made her squirm with pleasure on my cock.

"Ross?" Mom's voice carried, shaking from the sheets. "What - did - you - say?" Each word was emphasized by a hard slapping noise that our bodies made as I slammed into her, over and over. Mom's shaking hand went up, reaching for the phone, shaking as I fucked her harder and harder, her suppressed cries slipping from between her fingers. She tapped frantically, trying to hit the speakerphone button to turn it off. I couldn't control myself and animalistically fucked her harder, groaning, grunting, the pleasure of her tight cunt wrapped around my cock, slick, her feeling and excitement causing her to drive her hips back, grinding herself onto me, sending me farther and farther. In her last attempt to simultaneously take me deeper into her and to somehow hit the speakerphone button, her hand knocked the phone just out of reach.

"Nora?" Dad didn't quite sound suspicious, but he did sound confused.

That sent me farther than before -- I felt tightness, deep in my core, rising up from my balls, a tight clench in my taint, while mom tensed up along with me.

"I'm..." Mom was trying to hide her gasping, her body tensing and releasing and tensing, grinding desperately on my cock, her breath shuddering in and out, over and over while the orgasm started to build, deep, tightening around her womb. "Hey, Ross? We've got... ugh... we've got to go. It's coming. I -- I mean, the bill is coming. We'll talk tomo-" I adjusted my angle upward to hit her G spot and mom's voice stopped immediately -- her mouth opened wide as she felt my head grinding against that secret, special spot, and she started to shake, her hips trembling, her arms shaking, letting her downward as they tensed, weakened, tensed again.

"Nora?" Dad's voice came from the phone, more lost and confused than suspicious. "Hello? Nora?"

But mom was gone -- I pushed even deeper, my cock nearing her cervix, and her orgasm snapped through, and she made a whining scream that she forced into the white covers. I felt her cunt shaking, tightening, her whole body collapsing in tremors as I mercilessly fucked her, every pounding motion driving the orgasm higher. Her hands shot out to the blankets and her nails dug into them, and she pulled them to her, pulling the sheets clear off the corners of the mattress while her back arched, her body sinking into the bed, the orgasm taking every shred of consciousness she had and instead throwing her into explosive ecstasy.

I was almost there too -- I felt like my cock was about to explode -- I was a runaway train, the woman I had just conquered was shaking, orgasming underneath me, the slickness of her cunt was unbearably lovely in its feeling, and the animal in me was driving forward, ready to impregnate the woman I had just taken in front of her mate. I thought about mom's talk -- looked at her as she stared at me, both of us knowing exactly what was coming. As I fucked, harder, I wanted in some space of my mind for her to ask me to stop, but she only looked back, receptive, begging, asking with her dark eyes, lost in ecstasy.

I felt myself tensing -- my balls tightening, a bellow rising in me as I prepared to release all of my cum into my mother's womb. "I'm gonna..." I moaned through gritted teeth. "Mom..." I could barely make the sound. She looked at me, desperate, only timing herself more closely with each thrust.

Mom's ass pushed up and back, pushing deeper onto me, her reddening face turning to me more clearly, her lips silently begging, a half conscious plea in what I could only see as a blinding pleasure. We were out of control.

I was going to cum inside her.

Inside mom.

"Nora?" Dad's voice was small on the phone.

"Brett," mom sobbed in unimaginable pleasure. "Do it. Please, Brett."

"Nora?" Dad asked again, as if he couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Oh, please, Brett..." Mom's words seemed to echo as she strained back, the orgasm multiplying, her mouth opening wider. My gorgeous mother, who gave birth to me, who tucked me into bed until I was ten, who got me Christmas presents every year, who was orgasming harder than I had ever seen or imagined a woman could orgasm, was begging me with everything she had. She wanted it. She wanted my seed. Her eyes looked upward into mine, her body shuddering uncontrollably, her only desire was to have me enter her womb again.

It rose. Power, strength, contraction, every ounce of energy in my balls, shooting upward. Mom made a soft, open mouthed scream as she arched back.

And then it happened.

Power, unlike anything I had ever felt before, rocketed through my pelvis and I came with explosive force, the head of my cock shooting endlessly, deep inside my own mother -- and she made a half cry, unable to let any air out while she took everything, deep, deep into her. The heat and sensation was more intense than anything I had ever felt, ice shards shooting up my spine, into my head, my vision almost went white -- it was like a bomb exploded, and far inside my mother, within the womb from which I entered the world, my cock spurted jizz deep, deep inside, while she creamed all over me, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.

I heard mom make a single noise, a noise of acceptance, a noise of wordless pleasure, a begging sound as she took in her son's cum with unbearable delight. Mom opened her mouth, soundlessly screaming in beautiful, intense, sexual agony, feeling as my seed pumped upward into the deepest parts of her womb, the hot stickiness coating her insides, while she convulsed all over my cock, the head pushing against a secret spot far, far in the back.

Dad's voice came through the phone again. I could barely hear it.

I was so dizzy with the feeling of mom's spasming cunt and my own orgasm that shocked everything into stillness, the warmth of my jizz melting everything around my cock. Mom was shaking in front of me, still reveling in the strength of her own orgasm. I couldn't even make out dad's words -- I was so far gone. All I could tell was that the tone of his voice was confused, annoyed, completely unaware of what had just happened.

The phone then beeped three times, letting us know he had hung up.

I realized my vision was blurry, but it started to focus back up as I felt some sense of reason returning to me. The lust, the drive was retreating as I felt the heat of my mother's cunny around my cock as it gave a few last pulses, dripping the last, delicate ounces of my semen into her womb.

I realized I was gasping for air. As was mom. We were covered in sweat, breathing extraordinarily hard. Trying to get our oxygen back. I pulled myself out of her, slowly, her whole body going through a whole new set of shivers as my length drew itself out, making a sticky pop as it pulled free of her cunny. Long, long strands of my semen trailed between my cock and her pussy.

I almost fell to the ground, propping myself up against the hotel wall, beholding my handiwork.

Mom lay on the bed, still trembling. Her soft, lovely form shook, her cheeks were a bright red, while my semen was pouring from inside her in pale, white rivulets. Bits of makeup were pressed into the sheets around her face. She seemed listless; still lost in the edges of the earthshattering orgasm I gave her. Unaware. Gone. Beyond pleasure and orgasm. Breathing deeper, heavier than I had ever seen her.

After a few moments, she lifted her head, turned weakly, looking at me with awe. My cum still dripped from inside her cunny, pooling along her leg, onto the sheets.

We didn't say anything to each other. Mom dragged herself up and leaned against the headboard of the hotel bed, trembling. Her breasts were so beautiful, but there were red indents where the intensity had pressed her lovely, pale skin into the folds of the sheets she created when she pulled at the corners. I had never seen my mom so disheveled before. Semen still dripped from within her. She seemed aware, shocked, almost horrified, but she was too weak to do anything about it. Her consciousness returned to her in slow waves. As did mine.

I realized with its fullness that I had just come inside my own mother.

We looked at each other forever. My cum continued to drip from inside her, while I leaned against the wall, stunned at the obvious facts.

Mom looked down between her legs. Back up at me. Then back to between her legs. "Oh, god, Brett." Her voice was a whisper. Not of regret. Not of shame. Just... awe.

"Mom," I said, now processing everything. This was far beyond anything I had ever experienced, even with the girls in college. I had always used a condom or pulled out, and while those had their own separate risks, I had never cum deep inside a woman before. But my own mother lay before me, my seed spilling from inside of her. "I just... I just came, mom." I swallowed my throat now dry, the risks of our consent now becoming very real. "I did it inside you."

"I know," she said, now lucid. Staring at the silvery liquid between her legs.

"Mom..." I struggled to form the words. "Is there... any chance of..."

"I don't know," she said, unsure. "It's been a long time since I've... had anyone... do that inside me." Her fingers drifted down and she touched at it, at the slickness that still flowed. It really was more cum than I had ever brought forth in my entire life.

I simultaneously realized that mom had been having protected sex with dad since I was born. There was a reason they stopped at three kids total -- and there were methods to ensure that the number of children stayed there, but what we did flaunted all of that. Mom's fingers shone with the silvery slickness of my seed.

"Do we need to do anything?" I asked, starting to panic.

Mom shook her head, thinking, but still unsure. "I don't think so. I can get a pill. But I don't know if we need it. I'm not exactly young anymore." She looked at me. "Listen, Brett. The way those pills work, I can take it up to seventy-two hours after... after the fact. So calm down."

I nodded and tried to control myself.

Mom made a half smile as she watched me. "We're crazy, aren't we?"

I nodded again.

She shakily slid off the bed, standing. I wanted to go over to her and help her, but I was too weak. The way I came, the subsiding panic, all this made my knees shake, and I felt like if I left the wall, I would pass out.

"I'm going to clean up, and you're going to get this place tidy," mom said, immediately collected, delegating tasks again. "You're going to fix the bed. And then we need to get to sleep."

"Alright," I said without any resistance.

Mom went past me, her hand stretched out, tracing along my hip, up the length of my cock which was soaked with her juices and my semen. She felt the fluids and gasped softly, still moving, until she moved beyond me and stumbled toward the tissues. My cum streaked down in trails along the inside of her leg. I fixed the bed, barely enough strength to move from corner to corner. When mom finished wiping her cunny, my semen still seeming to pour in a slow drip from her, I had already been collapsed in the center of the bed. I felt exhausted. I didn't even have the strength to turn to her.

Mom turned off the lights and slid into bed. Her naked skin pressed against me, soft, her sweat drying and cooling in the dark.

I turned over and held her. Held my mother in my arms for long, long moments. Her breathing was slow. My seed was inside this woman. My mom. The thought of it was driving me insane. But at the same time, I felt an incredible bliss that I had never had before.

"Brett," she said in a whisper. "Are we crazy? I mean, really."

"We have to be," I said.

"I like it," she said. "I like being your mother. I also like having you inside me." I wondered how she felt about the liquid between her legs. What it could do.

I couldn't believe that we really had gone that far. I knew that there was a chance, even if mom was older, even if there was a pill. The thought of the future and all of its strangeness was so... extreme. But it blended with the soft afterglow, the feelings I had in my heart. If she became pregnant... then...

I took a deep breath as I thought the insane thought that maybe I did want there to be a child of mine inside her. I shook my head. Crazy. Just crazy.

Mom sighed. The mature, elegant, collected woman I always knew gave a warm shiver. It was the kind that girls made, only when they felt safe. It was so strange to hear it coming from her as she lay in my arms. "Good night, Brett." Those words were so... bright. It made my core light up, made the moment magic. Like I was a kid again, but mixed with the conquering fulfillment of having made my mother mine, of having put a part of myself inside her. It was a strange moment. A moment I knew so few men in their lives would ever experience.

Feelings welled up in me. I didn't bother to stop them.

"I love you, mom."

My mother was quiet for a second. She snuggled closer. I felt her warm fingers, pressing against my cheek, just like when I was little.

"I love you, Brett."

Her voice was pure.

We fell asleep.​