Incest/Taboo The Inheritance

She startled me then, suddenly sucking her breath in and holding it before letting it out. I closed my eyes in case she opened hers, ready to pretend that I was asleep and unaware that her chest was bare. But her breathing only quickened, so I opened my eyes. She was laying the same way but her breasts were rising and falling with her rapid breathing. I felt her legs tense on mine followed by small movements of her hips. She was moving like she had this afternoon. She must be dreaming about sex again.

For several minutes, I watched Mom's breasts heave and her hips buck in tiny movements, feeling her legs tense and release as her hips moved up and down. Her hands moved down near the end, to touch herself, I guess. I couldn't see, but the movement made her arms squeeze her tits together, pushing them up, her nipples stabbing up in the night, longer, stiffer. She was almost moaning, lifting herself into her hands. Finally, a long gasp and she was still.

Her breathing returned almost to normal as she lay there, her legs parted. I could easily have slid my right knee way up between her legs, right up to nudge her pussy if I dared. But I didn't. After a long while, when I was sure she was sleeping, I withdrew my legs, turned around, and went to sleep.
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A striking woman in a dark gray business suit sat in wingback chair next to me in the lobby. She set an envelope down on the highly polished table between us, followed by a headset and something that looked like a memory stick. Seeing my confusion, she picked up the headset and plugged it into the memory stick, let her thumb hover over the raised control near the top of one end until I nodded, and passed both into my hands. Then she left. I inserted one earpiece and pressed the button. Father's voice snaked into my head.

"Very good. Not much action, but I loved it. Took me back years. How you dangled that little pussy of yours in front of me just to keep me at home with that bitch mother of yours. Was it because you didn't want to be poor? Did you think she'd outlive me because she was so much younger, that you'd end up with my money?"

A bout of harsh coughing was followed by a noisy, painful throat clearing.

"All those years. You really were talented, Gwen, a truly great fuck."

His disgusting laugh disintegrated into another bout of coughing. I waited for it to end, well-dressed people wandering by, some chatting and laughing to each other, others busily intent on their business, one or two glancing at the early forties woman sitting alone listening to her music.

"It must rip you apart to know you did it for nothing. How much you debased yourself, even if you really did do it for your dear sweet mother."

This time, the laughter wasn't interrupted by coughing.

"Anyway. I liked it. The envelope will show you how much. Keep it up. It'll get better, much better. As you do."

The recording stopped.

I sat there, my fingers digging into the chair. I don't know how long but a hotel employee bent over in front of me,

"Are you alright? Can I be of any assistance?"

Flustered, I jumped up, "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

I rushed away and reached the elevators before the man caught up with me.

"Is this yours? It was on the table beside you."

He held the envelope out to me.

"Thank you," I smiled as best I could, then stepped inside the elevator which opened just then.

I opened the envelope carefully this time though it was too thin to hold much money. There was a bank draft inside made out to Nick, for half a million dollars. I almost fell down.

Relief swept through me. We could go. Half a million dollars! So I had to give the bastard one more blow job. So what. This and the fifty thousand cash was all we needed. We could just go. Elation burst throughout my body. I could hardly wait for the door to open when the elevator stopped, almost tripping as I rushed to our room and burst through the door, eager to give Nick the news.

Nick wasn't there, and I panicked for a brief moment until I heard the shower. Relief again. If that old prick harmed my son ...

The shower stopped. I wandered over to the window and looked out.

"Mom," Nick's voice startled me. Turning around, I saw Nick holding a towel around himself, evidently surprised to see me. "I was just going to have some breakfast. I didn't know ..."

"Let's have a big one," I said cheerily, "and then go for a drive in your new car.

Nick nodded, smiling at the mention of his new car, and then nodding with more enthusiasm. "Is that insurance for the car?" he indicated the envelope I was still holding in my hand.

"No, it's nothing," I said. "Go on, get dressed. I'll order breakfast."

One more day I thought. If I led Nick on, maybe my father would give us another half million, or even more. It may be worth stringing him along even longer. I could explain things to Nick after we got away from here. A million dollars would surely help him understand. He'd just be confused for one day. I couldn't tell Nick until after because the cagey old coot would smell it a mile away but I knew I could fool him because he already wanted to believe it, that I'd do my own son for money.

I laughed at that. Why wouldn't he? Nick was a good looking guy. I tucked the envelope back into my purse.
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We had a wonderful time driving around all afternoon. Nick loved the old car. We put the top down and wandered through town, touring the upscale neighborhoods before finding an older two lane highway that wound through the hills to a small town that could have existed in a time warp from fifty years ago.

By the time we got there, Nick had long noted the breezy summer shift I had chosen for the drive. I spent a long time with my arms up tying a scarf to hold my hair in place, a very old girl trick. Though I had first used my hands to press the loose skirt close around my legs, I soon 'forgot' and allowed it to billow up, flapping against my tummy several times before pressing it down, eventually giving up and letting it settle down high on my thighs. I spent a lot of time looking at the countryside on my side of the car so Nick could appreciate my legs. I was very thankful for all the time I'd spent on that incline trainer in the basement.

Once, as Nick slowed to drive through a particularly windy section, I kicked off my sandals and raised my legs to put my feet on the dash. I think Nick was torn between letting me potentially mark his new pride and joy and losing a wonderful display of his mother's legs. He chose the latter. I pretended to be shocked at myself for being so improper, lowering my legs and smoothing the skirt tightly around my thighs, but I allowed it to ride higher as we entered the little village, insisting we stop for some ice cream.

I was having such a good time with Nick. I didn't act like his mother and didn't say motherly things. We were like two people, a man and a woman, out on a date. When we pulled into a little roadside diner -- we couldn't see a Dairy Queen -- Nick ran around the car to open my door. I rewarded him with a great flash, seeming to get stuck just after I swung my legs around so he could have a longer look right up to my panties. I'm pretty sure his pants weren't normally that prominent, and I had a pretty close look as he pulled me to my feet.

We had hot apple pie a la mode with tea. Expressing regret at eating so much, I slowed my pace and held my tummy. Nick came to the rescue, stretching his arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, helping me step down the few steps to the parking lot. Of course, he held my hand as I struggled awkwardly to sit in the car and once inside, rescued me again when I had difficulty putting my seatbelt on. After he got it to click in, he had to rearrange the belt for me because it didn't feel comfortable, that is, until he threaded it between my breasts. I surprised him with a quick kiss on his lips to thank him for his help.

He invited me to put my feet up on the way home if it made me more comfortable. I smiled in satisfaction, gratified that my old legs could still induce a young man as handsome as Nick to manipulate a situation just to see them. I put my legs on display and admired the countryside again. After a while I dropped my feet and turned toward Nick, stretching my right foot out to rest on the hump below the radio, bent my left leg so I could put my knee up on the seat and laid back against the door before closing my eyes for a little nap. I made sure my skirt was held back so my panties were visible and stayed like that until Nick warned me that we were near the hotel. I guess he didn't want anyone else to see so much of his mother. Dear boy.
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Mom fell asleep on our first drive in my new car, Grandpa's old 59 Chrysler Imperial Crown convertible -- ragtop is too disrespectful to describe this car. When I first saw the car I fell in love with it but when I opened the hood and looked at the humongous engine, a 413 cubic inch V8, I knew I couldn't afford to move it. But Mom said the car came with free gas for a year and not to worry about it.

Anyway, the car was so comfortable to ride in Mom fell asleep. Not that I minded. She had propped herself against the door and looked fantastic with one bent leg on the seat and the other stretched straight out taking advantage of the huge leg space in this car. With the wind flapping around, Mom had given up on keeping her skirt down so I had quite a show and could even see her panties. I guess if she'd known it was a convertible she would have worn a different dress.

Back in the hotel room, apartment really, Mom talked me into a late dinner, insisting she have a quick bath and time to do her nails before going downstairs. Ten minutes later, she called me into the bathroom. I hesitated near the door while she convinced me that we should order in rather than going out. Mom insisted that I bring the room service menu and that I stay by her side while she made her selections.

"Don't be shy, we're family," she dismissed my nervous awkwardness.

For the second time in as many days I was able to leisurely browse the contours of Mom's naked body, peeking past the menu that sometimes blocked my view of her breasts to focus on her light brown pubic hair wafting with the slight movement of the bathwater.

Not long after I put in our order, a veritable feast complete with a half dozen bottles of expensive wine that was far superior to the inroom stock, Mom wandered out in one of the hotel bathrobes carrying toenail polish with her. I was watching an action movie and she sat at the other end of the couch, her foot tucked in to rest on its edge so she could apply the polish to her toes.

Though I was disappointed that Mom hadn't just worn her nightgown -- after all, we were family -- I realized that room service would be up soon and that maybe she'd doff the robe after dinner. Mom sighed a few times as she worked, having a little difficulty comfortably reaching her toes. She ended up turning to sit sideways on the couch and placing her feet in front of her, almost to my leg. She didn't seem to be worried about getting polish on the black leather couch, which would have been of concern at home.

"Do you think you could do this for me, sweetie? I don't bend as easily as I used to."

I turned to look at Mom, sitting there with a very cute 'please help me expression' on her face, holding a bottle of polish in one hand and the applicator in the other.

"I don't know, Mom," I said, glancing down at her feet, then back up along her legs demurely held close together until I reached her face which she had now rested on her knees.

"Please?"

"But I'll probably mess them up," I complained, not sure why I was trying to talk her out of letting me touch her.

"They're just toes," Mom dismissed my objection. "Come on, help me out."

"But what if I spill on the couch?" I raised another problem which she also summarily dismissed.

"Don't worry about the couch."

I took the polish and the applicator and considered where to start as Mom adjusted a pillow behind her and leaned back, closing her eyes to rest.

"Ahhh, this is the life," she said, a pleased grin spreading across her face.

I dabbed the polish on a toe and carefully spread it around on her nail. For all her fussing about, Mom had only painted one toe. As I started the third toe, Mom's knee swayed over to rest against the back of the couch opening a narrow window through which I could admire the inside of her right leg, from her ankle up to her knee and down again along her thigh until it became too dark to see. Despite having been able to see her bare breasts and even her pubic hair, this casual, illicit exposure still caused a stir in my groin, perhaps aided by the fact that I was touching her and perhaps because of the memories flooding my mind of Mom's legs this afternoon.

I was working on her other foot at the same time. I put the nail polish down on the table and used my left hand to grasp Mom's ankle.

"Keep your foot still or I'll make a mess," I cautioned her.

She didn't respond. The grin had been replaced by a calm, pleasant look. I resumed my delicate treatment of her toenail but soon exerted pressure on her ankle, pushing her leg just slightly outward, away from the back of the couch and her other leg. Yes. Additional light landed on the inside of Mom's right thigh, enough that I could see where her leg first broadened in its flare toward her hip. Another nudge and I could see several inches past that to a curiously uneven edge where I was expecting the clean crease between thigh and pelvis.

Hair? I craned my neck and strained my eyes. Yes, I was sure. It was hair, pubic hair. My cock stiffened. This wasn't wavy, watery hair swaying about like reeds in the sea. This was a thatch of pussy hair, and if I could urge her leg yet further, I would have a full frontal view of Mom's bare pussy for I was now certain she wore neither nightgown or panties. Could I risk such an obvious move?

Of course. How could I not? I finished the toe I was working on and another, just to put enough distance from my last nudge. Then, as I started the last toe on that foot, the big one, I slid my hand above Mom's ankle to the start of her calf muscle while pressuring her leg out, very slightly, hoping the movement of my hand would cover the real movement I sought.

Vunderbar. Like opening a door wider, the light crept toward and past Mom's bare pussy, highlighting it in the center of a precious slot of illumination. Like a piece of art, her bright womanhood was surrounded by a ring of light brown hair which in turn faded into dark oblivion. In fact, there was no need for artificial means to focus my attention there. I almost gave myself away by stopping work on her toe but a slight movement of her head prompted me into action again.

A knock on the door shattered my reverie. Our meal was here.

I returned the applicator to the bottle of polish and struggled to my feet. I looked back at Mom on my way to the door just in time to see her close her legs. Was that just a natural movement, or was she knowingly assuming a more innocent posture because someone else was about to enter the room?

I kept thinking about that little movement while we ate dinner. Mom was very free with the wine, excellent wine that went down easily. By the time we finished dinner we were on the second bottle. While I retrieved dessert from the cart, Mom began browsing the movie listings.

"Let's watch something naughty," she said, selecting the adult video option.

As we ate dessert and polished off the second bottle of wine, Mom browsed through the selections, laughing at the descriptions for each one. She took longer to read one about mature women and wasn't so laughingly critical about it but when she came across one called 'Forbidden Afternoons: Naughty Moms Help Sons With Homework' she didn't laugh at all. She quickly exited to continue browsing, telling me to open another bottle of wine.

I got up to retrieve another bottle from the cart and saw that Mom had returned to the mom movie. She exited it quickly again when I brought the bottle back to fill our glasses but returned while I was pouring. She was reading intently as I handed the glass to her and sat down.

"Doesn't this look silly?" she said. "Of all things." She laughed nervously, but didn't exit the selection this time. "What do you think?" she asked, not looking at me.

I didn't reply, wanting to watch it but not sure that I wanted to with Mom.

"What the heck, it's probably really funny." She pushed the button, confirmed the charge, and dropped the remote on the floor beside her.

Mom did laugh through the first episode, at how contrived the situation was and how quickly the 'mother' absolutely had to fulfill her son's desires. It was kind of comical. Mom began holding her glass out for me to clink every time something happened that she thought was particulary ridiculous. Eventually, I moved to sit on the middle cushion to make it easier for us to clink glasses.

Mom was quiet during the sex scene and didn't interact with me until it was over. During the next episode I noticed that Mom's robe had loosened allowing me to glimpse her assets while her attention was fixed on the movie. I peeked after each clink and enjoyed the movement of her breasts under the robe when she laughed. My view improved each time she raised her hand to sip her wine. It was one thing to see her naked in the bath but this, and doing her nails, was so much sexier because I was sure she was purposely letting me peek, allowing me enjoy her as a woman and not a mother, the way she had that first night at dinner.

In the third episode, the mother teased her son by doing her toenails while he sat on the floor leaning back against a chair watching as his mother worked away, her feet on the edge of the couch. She kept asking his opinion on how they looked and even got him to do her last toe. Mom was again quiet and even seemed to be uncomfortable. When the explicit action started on the screen she drew my attention away from the screen, glancing down to examine her own feet.

"That reminds me," she said, the discomfort if any no longer present, "what were you doing when you did my big toe? It's a mess."

I was only too happy to talk about Mom's feet. If the movie wasn't making her uncomfortable, it was certainly agitating me and discussing her feet was a welcome opportunity to ignore the movie, and particularly this especially relevant scene.

"See?"

Mom swung her feet toward me, setting them both down on the couch between us. I examined her foot and the smudgy mess that I'd made of her big toe, my face flushing I realized I had buggered it up because I was distracted by the shaft of light illuminating her pussy just before the arrival of room service. My face reddened more as I tried to stop the flushing, convinced it made me look guilty of sneaking peeks at her pussy.

"Were you watching the TV while I was napping instead of concentrating on my toes?" Mom teased and let me off the hook at the same time.

"Sorry Mom, " I mumbled, seeking to substantiate the alibi she'd provided.

"Well, then you're just going to have to fix it and finish the others." Mom's voice was commanding but teasing at the same time. "Come on, clean it off. Use the clear stuff," she pointed to the remover.

"Come on," she stretched one foot out to tap it against my thigh, "get started."

I picked up a cotton ball and the remover and opened it, ready to clean the polish off her toenail.

"Oh, I see you know what you're doing," Mom continued, still teasing.

I nodded, eager to get out of her bad books even if she was stringing me along.

"So you must have been looking at something else then," she smiled sweetly.

"No Mom, I ... uh," my face went red again.

"Shhhh," Mom comforted me, "just fix my feet for me. Keep your eye on what you're doing this time. No TV. Especially that naughty stuff," she laughed. "I don't want you getting ideas with all that wine in you," she laughed and laid back, closing her eyes like before.

I soaked the cotton ball in the remover and started rubbing it on her toenail. Mom's eyes popped open.

"Careful, you don't want to get that on the couch, it will stain." Mother was back. "Move closer and put my foot in your lap. Take your jeans off, we don't want to ruin them either. Come on," she added when I hesitated, "we're all family here."

I handed the stuff to Mom, stood and dropped my jeans, trying to hide myself. It was embarrassing because I obviously had a hardon on but Mom didn't comment or even seem to notice. I sat quickly and she handed the stuff back to me, leaning back and closing her eyes again, her foot searching for my lap. I picked her foot up and slid underneath, setting it down on my legs near my knee. Nervously, I started cleaning the toenail.

"Take your time and do a good job this time," she said.

I nodded, though Mom's eyes were closed.

The movie ended by the time I cleaned the polish off Mom's big toe. I completely missed the last scene. So did Mom. As I leaned over her foot to trade the remover for the polish, she picked up the remote and started the movie over again.

"I missed that," she said.

Great. Now I had to paint her nails with her foot in my lap near my cock which I couldn't convince to soften up, while watching a porn movie about sons having it off with their mothers.

As I applied the first dab of polish, Mom stretched her right foot out, the one closest to the back of the couch, and placed it in my lap too, between her other foot and my stiffy. I glanced sharply at her but her eyes were closed, a slight smile sitting comfortably on her face as she wriggled her foot, digging her heel into the crease between my thighs.

This was such an incredible situation. My wine-hazed eyes trailed down Mom's body, along her legs which were bare below the knees because her robe had parted, to her feet. I looked at the TV in time to see a young man kiss and caress the breast of an older woman, supposedly his mother. Mom's foot wiggled in my lap. She was looking at me.

"Don't watch. Do toes." She closed her eyes again.

Berated, I applied the polish, slowly and carefully, as per her instructions.

Mom seemed to be napping but I knew she wasn't. She was listening to the movie and so was I, though I rarely looked up, not wanting to get caught again. The situation was truly bizarre. I was putting nail polish on my mother, naked under her bathrobe, her foot resting in my lap no more than an inch from my boner which was bent uncomfortably inside my jockey shorts, while we both listened to the sounds of a porn movie son preparing to fuck his movie mom. I couldn't help getting hornier and hornier, or to stop my breathing from coming in shorter and shorter breaths.

Mom leaned her right leg against the back of the couch to rest in a more comfortable position, causing her foot to twist toward my crotch and directly contact the bulge in my jockey shorts. Her touch sent shock waves through me and my cock throbbed. She must have felt it against the top of her foot, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she dug her heel further into my right thigh, applying more pressure against my shorts.

I chanced a look at the screen. The son had removed the mom's blouse and was sucking her breasts, one of his hands reaching under her skirt as they leaned against a counter while a man, supposedly the father, was visible pushing a lawnmower around the backyard. Looking down, I realized that I had finished Mom's toe so I began applying polish to the big toe of her other foot, the one nestling against my undershorts. Mom's face had turned toward the TV but I couldn't tell if her eyes were completely shut or not. The sounds made it pretty obvious what was going on. I turned my attention back to my work.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom's hands slip down and undo the belt of her robe, letting it fall to either side. When I leaned over to replenish the applicator, my crotch pressed against Mom's foot and as I leaned back her foot followed, maintaining tight contact with my genitals. Just as I was about to touch the brush to her nail, she rubbed her foot back and forth against me. My cock leapt against her, begging for more.

"Stay still, Mom, or I'll make a mess." My upset voice belied the joy I felt.

"I'm sure you will," Mom laughed softly.

I was stunned. She was making fun of this, making a joke about me coming? I knew she wasn't talking about the polish.

"If you make a mess, you'll have to start over," Mom rubbed her foot across me again.

"Keep still," I admonished her.

"Alright fussbudget," she said.

I had to wait while she twisted over to get her wine glass and lifted her head to take three small sips before putting it back on the table.

"Alright, I'll be a good Mom now."

I started work on her toenail again but glanced at her immediately after, expecting a sudden move. I stopped. Mom's robe had fallen open when she leaned over to get and replace her glass and her left breast was now bare, capped by a not so flaccid nipple standing up about a half inch, a nice brownish, maroon color. My eyes followed the trail of bare skin, between her breasts, past her navel, the nice inset oval kind, over the small pout of her tummy and down the slope to her brown pubic hair. I couldn't really see her pussy because her thighs were closed tightly together and the robe joined just below. Beautiful.

I glanced at the TV as the screen mother moaned. Her son had lifted one of her legs and had just inserted his cock in her. He was moving slowly in and out when I looked back at Mom in time to see her turn her head on her side and open her eyes to watch him fuck her. I kept the polish applicator held high and put my other hand on Mom's calf, slowly sliding it down until I cupped the instep of her foot, the one I was supposed to be painting, the one she was holding against my cock. I pulled it in tighter and pushed my hips out, squeezing her foot between my legs.

I leaned over and tossed the applicator onto the table, switched hands, and starting sliding my left hand back up Mom's leg, along the back of her ankle, over her calf to her knee, and then beyond, parting her robe as I pushed higher, onto her thigh. Mom's left hand dropped from where it had been laying on her chest to the side of her thigh, near the edge of the couch. She was still watching the TV where the son had pulled out of his mom and stepped back so she had room to turn around and lean on the counter. The man could still be seen through the window moving about in the yard.

Since she hadn't said anything and was still watching the movie, I cautiously slid my hand higher, fingers drooping down the inside of Mom's thigh. When I reached the midpoint, Mom's hand suddenly moved and I froze but she merely pushed the edge of her robe on her outside leg to meet the one on the inside, grasping them together in one hand just above her knee and below my hand. She didn't interfere with my hand or give me a disapproving look.

I joined Mom in watching the son line up his very large cock behind his mother who had turned to look behind herself. But where Mom was still and completely focused on the movie action, my attention was on my left hand, moving ever so slowly up her thigh and reaching deeper between her legs. Mom's only movement was to keep her robe closed as my hand moved higher.

Just as the son started to vigorously fuck his mother I moved my hand as far as it would go, making contact with the apex of Mom's legs, its edge firmly lined up with her pussy. Mom made no response. I wiggled my hand until I felt it insert itself between her pussy lips and then let it begin a gentle rubbing motion there. When the son reached up to hold his mom's shoulders while he slammed into her, I pulled my hand higher so my fingers were inserted in her lips and they began a more refined manipulation than the edge of my hand could manage. Mom kept concentrating on the TV, not once acknowledging my action in any way.

The son slipped his hands from his mother's shoulders to grasp her long, wavy red hair, holding it in a makeshift pony tail and gently pulling to tug his mother's face up. Freeing one hand while holding her hair with the other, he grasped her head and turned her face to look directly at the man working outside, presumably his father. The muscles of his legs bulged as he jolted the first of many harsh lunges into his mother from behind, about one every five seconds. It was here, on the third or fourth lunge, that I threw caution to the wind, inserting my fingers into my own mother's pussy.

For several minutes while the movie son's continued his lurches into his mother, I worked my fingers in and out, up and down and side to side in Mom, holding her foot tightly against my cock as I moved my hips to rub up and down her insole. I abandoned myself to the intense feelings coursing through me until I came in my underpants just as the son began heaving faster and moaning in time to his mother's groans, sensing a sudden flood on my fingers at the same time. As the scene faded, I pulled away and Mom closed the robe behind my retreating hand, her hips still moving faintly as if it was still there. She closed her eyes as I lifted her foot away from my soaked shorts.

I wasn't sure what to do but Mom just lay there as if she had fallen asleep so I took my cue and slipped out from under her feet and made my way to the bathroom to cleanup. After putting on a clean pair of shorts, I wandered back into the living room to find that Mom hadn't moved. Picking up my jeans, I decided not to put them back on and took them back to the bedroom where I also removed my shirt and socks before returning to sit on the couch dressed only in my clean shorts. I turned off the TV and gently nudged Mom. She mumbled and did so again when I shook her shoulder a second time.

"Mom," I whispered. No response.

"I'm going to put you in bed," I whispered, standing and stooping over to insert my hands below her shoulders and her knees. I lifted her up and walked her into the bedroom. She was sufficiently aware to slip her arms around my neck. I let her feet fall to the floor but held her against me in a standing position as I reached down with one hand to pull the covers back. Sitting her down on the edge of the bed, I spoke again to explain what I was doing.

"Let's get this robe off. It's too hot to sleep with it on."

I pulled the sleeves off Mom's arms and pushed the robe off behind her back, exposing her naked breasts which swayed and jostled beautifully as they hung from her chest.

"Oh, sorry Mom. I didn't know you weren't wearing a nightie," I lied. "Oh well, just family here, right?" I said as I laid her down on her back, undid her belt and pulled the robe out from underneath her, and threw it onto a chair.

Mom lay with her hair in disarray across the pillow. I leaned down to spread it out even more, admired my handiwork, and then leaned further over, pulling her legs and feet farther onto the bed. Pausing for another look, I pushed one leg even further toward the center of the bed, opening her thighs so I could see her pussy, the hair still damp from my earlier manipulation.

Thinking about the past two days, I realized that I didn't ever want to go home. I didn't want Dad around, though the thought of him reminded me of the father in the movie cutting the lawn while the son fucked his wife hard in the kitchen, and this made my cock stiffen up as I pictured me fucking Mom while Dad worked in the yard, or bent over on their bed while he was having his morning shower. Without thinking, I reached into my shorts and fished out my boner which, though it wasn't, felt as big as the movie son's looked. I stroked it a few times looking down at Mom.

I loved the way her tits were big enough to sit like large blobs on her chest and the way her nipples pointed up toward the roof and off to one side. I wished I could suck them. Abruptly, I pushed my shorts down over my extended boner, down my legs and off. Completely naked, I leaned against the bed, letting my knees rest on the side of the mattress. Leaning forward to put my left hand on the other side of Mom, I gripped my cock with my right and brought it near Mom's tit, letting it hover just above her nipple.

What are you doing, you idiot? Nothing, came the answer. She'll wake up, my brain yelled, but no one was listening. I lowered myself until the underside of my tip barely touched her, grazing over her distended nipple. The touch was so exquisite its hard to believe I didn't come right then. I let my cock slip off to the side, over the soft precipice and down to her torso, keeping it tight to the round swell of her breast so I could tuck it under her breast. I relished the weight of her tit pressing down on my tip, squeezing it against her abdomen and then enjoyed the tingly feeling as I used my cock to push her breast up until it flipped back on top, bending her nipple over until it flicked upright again.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my cock slowly down the gentler slope, watching as it progressed and finally dipped into the hollow below her shoulder. Tempting fate, I let the end rise and pushed in until the tip brushed against Mom's cheek. Leaning in yet more, I guided my cock until its curious head reached the corner of her mouth. I almost jumped out of my skin when Mom's hand lifted from the pillow beside her head and landed on my forearm, slid down to my wrist and then my hand as I jerked back. Mom's head turned toward me, laying sideways on the pillow. I was caught!

I was petrified until my numb mind slowly realized that her eyes were still closed. I was even more stunned when I noticed that her mouth was open in a silent 'O' as if she was waiting to consume something large, like a popsicle. Was she waiting for Dad? Did she do this for him at night when he was finished getting ready for bed and she was half asleep?

I ignored the relentless shrilling from my brain. Deliberately, I pushed forward until my cock wavered at the entrance to that magical cave. Don't, you moron, my brain screamed. I dropped my hand but Mom's slid forward to take its place, lightly holding my shaft near its root. I placed my free hand on the other side of Mom to help take my weight, hanging my head to watch my cock bob around before her sexy mouth. I pushed and the head slipped inside her lips.

Oh, glory! This was worth getting caught. I didn't care. I tried to stay still, to not wake her, but it didn't matter. Mom's lips closed over my head and her tongue, wet, warm and silky, swirled all around it and then her cheek hollowed and she sucked me hard. Oh, god!

As her cheek filled again, the tip of her tongue pressed on the underside of my cock and slid all the way down my shaft as her hand pulled me into her mouth, deep, deep until I bludgeoned against the entrance to her throat. She held me there for a second before pushing me back. Her hand jacked my cock a half times in quick succession and then her lips locked around me again, tongue swirling, sucking hard and pulling me deep inside once more. This time, instead of just holding me there, I felt her opening, felt my tip going in farther, before I was pushed away again.

This was repeated several times. I was near coming and then, deep inside, I felt myself burst through into an inner mouth. I was in her throat. Mom had pulled me into her throat! My cock was lurching, coming. Squirt. I could feel myself being pushed back. Squirt, squirt, squirt. I was jerking, pure reflex, trying to mini fuck her mouth, unloading my sperm. Mother of christ, I had never felt anything this good, nowhere near. Mom pushed until just the tip was inside her mouth, her tongue swirling around and around. Somehow, my cock dredged up some more cum, dribbling it inside her.

Finally, her hand and mouth were still. She was finished, and I was done. I pulled my softening cock out and stepped away. Her eyes were still closed and I would have sworn she was sleeping. Upon closer examination, I noticed a little string of white jism at the corner of her mouth. Delicately, I used my index finger to shepherd it into her mouth, dipping in just beyond her lips. I reached down to gather the covers and gently pulled them over her shoulders, tucking them in around her neck. I leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"I love you Mom," I whispered.

I walked around the bed and slid in from the other side, spooning my naked body against hers.
​

----------------------​

I was awake for a long time after Nick finally fell asleep. I couldn't believe he actually thought he could stick his cock in my mouth and come without waking me, especially after I sucked him. I couldn't help that, it was just reflex. It's been a very long time since I've had such a nice young one in my mouth. But really, to think you could fuck a woman's mouth, that she could suck you, in her sleep? Pullease.

But he acted like he believed it and that was good. Let's face it. He wanted to believe it. He had fingered me on the couch and fucked my mouth in bed, but I had managed to let him think I wasn't aware. Even if he didn't believe it at some level, we didn't have to face up to it. It could be ignored and allowed to fade into our past. After all, I hadn't let him fuck me, so there wasn't anything that couldn't be forgotten. I was sure I could mend things with Nick. Maybe our relationship would be a little different, a little less intimate and more strained than usual, but nothing that couldn't be handled in time.

I knew what I was doing. This was about money, the old bastard's money. It meant sweet satisfaction for me and a good life for my family from now on. I only hoped I had done enough to get the next payment. Then we'd be out of here.

He'd been soft when he first cuddled up to me, putting his arm around my waist, barely touching me so he didn't wake me. It was nice to feel his body so close to mine after such an intimate act. I'd been so bad. It was hard to keep pretending to be asleep, especially when he started getting hard again, stiffening up to press into the crack of my ass. I was toying with the thought of opening myself a little, just to let him slip it between my legs. After all, if he believed he could put it in my mouth without waking me, what would stop him from sliding it underneath my pussy between my legs. But he pulled away with a groan. About twenty minutes later, I could tell he was sleeping.

You'd think I would have gone to sleep then, wouldn't you? I should have. But I couldn't help thinking that tomorrow, after we got the money, we'd be gone. Gone home, and there'd be no chance to be like this again. I turned to look at my son. He was laying on his back, breathing deeply and evenly, the sleep of a satisfied man. I couldn't help snuggling up to him, being just as careful as he had been not to wake him. I watched him, love swelling up inside me, assuring myself that everything would be ok, that I was doing it for him and he'd understand one day.

I kissed his shoulder and put my arm across his chest to give him a light hug. I love you so much, I thought. And then I did it. As I pulled my arm away to turn over I let it trail down from his chest to his stomach, pausing there to marvel at how taut it was. Even there, he had muscles. But I let my hand stray south a little more and my hand slid over his cock.

Gwen, what are you doing? Just playing for a minute. He's asleep. He was soft but even so he had a certain size. He has a nice one, I thought, as I closed my fingers around it, squeezing him in my palm. As my love for my son spread a warm glow through my body I milked his cock until it stiffened and lengthened into the hard shaft that had slipped between my lips not so long ago. I ran my thumb lightly around his tip, on top of the head and under his glans, letting my fingers tickle down his shaft to scratch his balls, kneading them into my palm, then fluttering my fingers up his shaft to circle the head before encircling his cock in my fingers and stroking down to his root.​