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Then, I squirted some directly into her ass crack, let it soak in, then squirted in more. "Oops," I cried as I pressed my fingers in a cupping motion between her cheeks at the bottom of her buttocks, catching the extra fluid and pushing it back up against her little hole. Holding my fingers there, I squirted more fluid in, letting it pool over her rosebud and soak in.
"Roger," she burst out, hoarsely, her voice betraying a hidden excitement.
"Just relax, Mom. I'm almost finished. Just rest now." I pressed my middle finger in, laying it along her rosebud, and slid it gently back and forth, then pulling it up and swirling its tip around her little hole. She hadn't yet realized that I'd been soaking her butt and her little hole in the mazola oil I'd grabbed from the counter. It wasn't the best thing to use, but it was all I had. As I pushed my finger tip into her, she protested again. "It's just part of the massage, Mom, just let me finish."
When I slid my finger all the way in and started slowly working it in and out of her ass, part of the massage routine lost its value. "No, Roger, don't, don't."
"Mom, remember what I said about giving things a chance? Just give it a minute."
I squeezed even more mazola around her hole and pushed two fingers in. She dug her pelvis into the floor, away from my merciless intruders, grunting. I kept pushing in, loving the sound of her grunts, "I can't," she cried, "I can't!"
"You can," I whispered back harshly, "and you will!"
"No, no, don't, Roger, don't."
I pulled my fingers back, and then shoved them in again, pressing deeply into her cheeks. "Yesssss," I hissed. Suddenly, I pulled my fingers out of her, paused, then slid them down along her peritoneum and wiggled them into her cunt.
"Oh, my God, oh my god," she panted. I twisted my fingers around, loosening her up for a minute, them started jamming them back and forth into her, increasing the tempo, pushing in harder, faster. Her panting became ragged. I stopped, twisting around again, then started jamming in more slowly but more firmly. She started grunting again, moving her pussy back against my hand. I was very excited and breathing quite raggedly.
Pushing my hand in, I held it there while I twisted my body with my feet to the left, outside her widespread legs. I leaned my torso down, pressing her back flush to the floor as I aimed my cock and nudged it up against her little hole.
"No, Roger, don't. Wait, wait until tomorrow."
"I can't," I rasped back, and pushed the head in.
"OHHHHH, OHHHHH, UNNNGGHHHH," she wailed as I slid in. She was tight, but slippery, being very well oiled. I pushed all the way in, and fell to my chest laying across her. I stayed still, feeling her tight pucker gripping me, convulsing around the root of my cock. Slowly, I started moving. Out a little, and back. Again. Out and back, again and again. I started pressing in, grinding a little, just a little. Soon, I could hear little grunts with each grind into her cheeks. I started working my fingers in her pussy again, in time with my fucking of her ass. I pulled my fingers out and slid my long finger up to her clitoris and pressed it in there, swirling it about in tiny little circles. She began moving her ass back onto my cock, groaning, moaning and grunting all at once.
I pulled my hand quickly out from between her legs, around her hips and back onto her clit. Lifting myself, I straightened out behind her, between her legs. I moved my cock back between her cheeks, pressing it into to her opened hole. I let it hover there.
"Push your ass back on my cock, Mother."
"Come on. Push back. Fuck me with your ass."
I could feel the muscles in her thighs before she moved. And then I felt the exquisite feel of her round, puckered hole pushing back and enveloping the head of my cock. Suddenly, she shoved quickly upward, exhaling a loud grunt, "UNNNGGGHHH!" followed by many quick shoves in succession. She was going wild! I felt my hand on her clit brushed roughly aside as she replaced it with her own. I reached around and grabbed both her tits, squeezing them hard and pinching the nipples tightly as well. Each time she buried her ass around my cock, I tensed my thigh muscles as hard as I could, bulging my cock into her. We were in a frenzy. This was not tender lovemaking like we'd had that afternoon on the mountain. We were each stealing something from the other. Abruptly, I released my goo in her with explosive force. She began violently twisting her ass around on my cock, frigging herself frantically until I could feel her legs clenching and shuddering uncontrollably. We collapsed on the floor, panting raggedly.
After a long while, Mom blurted out, "You little bastard. What you make me do. You little bastard."
"Be honest, Mom," I countered. "You've had boring fucking all your life. I'm your son, and I know you. I know what you need, and I know what you really want."
A long pause followed.
"You're still a little bastard."
"I know. I'll leave you alone tonight, but I'm having you in the morning. Understand?"
No answer.
"Do you understand?" I repeated.
Quietly, "Yes, I understand."
"All morning," I insisted, "they can't get here until the afternoon."
"All morning," she acknowledged.
The next morning, both Mom and I learned how she could get her mouth down over my whole cock, using copious amounts of saliva generated while I held her head firmly down on me. I found that I could even continue fucking into her as I held her head tight, for a few thrusts, more and more each time. Eventually, I exploded in her face. I hadn't meant too but at the last minute, I couldn't help it, having never done it before. I immediately felt ashamed of myself but she didn't mind. She laughed at the huge amount of come dripping all over her, like it was a ridiculous joke that anything could be left after last night. I laughed too and then pushed the head of my cock back into her mouth. She slowly, sucked and licked it, milking the tip while looking into my eyes until I was soft. Unbelievable!
We cleaned up and had breakfast. Just as I was wondering if I had anything at all left and how I was ever going to live up to my manly demands of the previous evening, we saw riders coming around the bend in the trail, Dad at the lead. My ride with Mom was over.
As we rode back on fresh horses, I wondered about how things would go once we got back home. I no longer wanted to go away. Ever. I wanted to stay and have Mom again and again in all the ways I was starting to imagine.
And then the image of her rocking my head back into the floor popped into my mind, and the way she'd strode back across the room tossing the dish towel down into my face as she walked nonchalantly by, "Clean yourself up," she'd barked.
Maybe, this wasn't going to be so one-sided, I thought, just as Mom twisted around in her saddle to look back at me, the two of us again bringing up the rear. Keeping her eye on me, she smiled and leaned forward to grasp the horse's mane. She was still looking back, smiling, as she lifted her ass up to the edge of the saddle.