Sonny rode with Lily and her father to deliver the last of the spring petunias, straggly, overgrown plants, to the Circle Market. He and Mr. Folsom hauled the flats out of the station wagon. For once Lily did not help. Wearing a brief pink dress, she remained in her seat, like a princess being waited on.
As they drove off Sonny noted that she was wearing a bra, which made her titties stick out, unnaturally hard cones. But she sure looked beautiful, roses in her cheeks, her glowing eyes feeding on Sonny when she turned his way. She had never looked this beautiful before. It was surprising her father did not notice, and figure that something extraordinary had happened to her.
As always Mr. Folsom was wrapped up in his thoughts. He was a hard-jawed man with powerful hands on the steering wheel, thickly haired arms, and a bull neck developed by ball-playing.
He had a gravelly voice. He asked, "Movie out at eleven? Then you'll be home by quarter after?"
"Yes, Daddy," Lily said.
They would be home at quarter after. No dodging that.
Mr. Folsom took a cigar stub from the car dashboard and bit on it.
He said, "Tomorrow we'll pot the first of the May violets. Sonny, you want to earn some dough?"
"Sure. Unless my mother has something scheduled."
Mr. Folsom nodded.
He let them out at the theater, handing Lily a dollar. He said, "For popcorn," and drove off.
In the lobby Lily took Sonny's arm and cuddled up to him. Kids they knew from school eyed them. Sonny took her to the popcorn machine, not because he wanted some but to let Lily show them off as a twosome.
They sat in the back row. She squirmed into the curve of his arm, looking up for a kiss. He did it gently. Gosh, he sure had learned a lot in a short time. How to brush his lips over hers, wet them up with his tongue, then suck lightly.
She sighed, dropped her head on his shoulder. He reached under her arm and caressed her bra-firmed breast. Lily whispered, "Urn-mm. I like that."
In her ear he said, "But your tit is hard. It doesn't feel right."
"Well, the bra makes my breasts stick out so people will notice them. Anyhow, I'm not wearing panties. That's the important thing."
He slid a hand under her skirt and caressed her furry little pussy. She spread, her legs to let him finger into her honeyed slit.
Her hand climbed over his thigh and fastened on his cock.
The movie was different from any he had ever seen, a wide-screen blast of color about ten miles away. They watched it. They laughed when everybody else did. But it was beyond their horizon and when they left and walked homeward, arms about each other, Sonny had not the faintest idea what they had seen.
They stopped every block to kiss and got home at ten after eleven. Both houses were lighted. They groaned. Five minutes to go.
In the shadows of the big maple tree at the curb between the two houses, they stood together, kissing. He raised her skirt and stroked her cunt lips. She unzipped him and slid a hand inside his pants, squeezing his horny prick.
He whispered, "I'd like to-" "So would I."
"We could go out back of the greenhouse."
"Daddy said I'm to be in at quarter after eleven."
Her hand felt awful good, squeezing and puffing his cock.
He massaged the little bump of her clitoris. She breathed hotly against his neck.
"Tomorrow," she whispered.
"But tomorrow is Saturday. Your dad and my mother will be home."
"We'll figure some way to fuck. Huh?"
"Some way.
Kit had arrived home at eleven.
She stood before a window in her darkened living room, gazing out at the two kids necking in the shade of the tree at the curb.
Thus far her plan to smother her lust for Sonny had succeeded. He and Lily were locked in a tight embrace. Kit herself had a new lover. Furthermore, her incredible drug-aided twist into lesbianism had placed her in a world separate from her son's.
She felt at peace, not at all upset by the mind-blasting experience of making love to another woman. Only one thing had been wrong with the evening. Myra had eventually called Don for supper, and afterward Charley of the fiberglass boat and his wife had come over to play a five-handed card game, a long evening of it, while Kit eyed Myra across the table, wanting more; much more. Each time Myra had winked or made some gesture to show the connection between them, Kit had clenched her thighs together, squeezing in, almost feeling the girl's long tongue lashing up her cunt.
Even now.
Standing there in the darkened living room, Kit raised her skirt and fingered her panty crotchband. Soggy! She groaned.
Kit peeled her panties down and dropped them. She fingered the slippery nubbin of her clit. Soon her hips were wrenching.
She would get an orgasm before Sonny came into the house. Burn off the heat. Then she would be calm.
What were those two doing against the tree trunk? Dry fucking? Fingering genitals?
Kit's hips were jerking hard when she saw Sonny tear away from the shadow of the tree and hurry up the walk toward the front door.
She awakened in a flash. Dropping her skirt she stooped to grab up her panties from the floor, and dashed to her bedroom.
She was seated on the chintz-covered bench before her makeup table, her soggy panties already in the laundry hamper, when Sonny opened the front door.
"Mother?"
"In here, darling." She whipped the cap off the jar of cold cream and swiped up a gob with a tissue. She began cleansing her throat.
Sonny appeared in the doorway. He was in shadow but a glance showed Kit that his prick was stiff She asked, "How was the movie?"
"Fine, just fine. See, Mr. Folsom drove us there, he had to deliver petunias, so it wasn't out of his way. He wants me to help transplant violets tomorrow. He'll pay me"
Sonny was beating about the bush, she thought, talking about the unimportant details of his evening.
That meant he had laid Lily or else had gotten so close to it that he had to avoid the subject.
She said, "A movie date with a girl is not so difficult after all, is it?"
"Gosh, no. And you should have seen how good Lily looked, in a real short pink dress. Guys I know from school just stared at her like they couldn't believe it was her."
Massaging cold cream into her throat and chin, Kit glimpsed her eyes in the mirror. Narrowed. Dark.
Jealous?
He went on, "One of the guys, I talked to him in the men's room, he said, "That chick with you, she's really groovy-looking."
"I know," Kit said. "I told you Lily has lovely eyes."
"Well, and the guy in the men's room said, her shape, too, I mean, Lily's got it all there. That's what he said."
Kit smeared cold cream up her cheeks. She paused before erasing her mascara. She suddenly realized that she did not want to remove her mascara when her son was talking about the prettiness of another female. Mascara was the one essential makeup she used. It had not been smeared. It emphasized the wide, round, lascivious innocence of her brown eyes. She would leave it on.
With fresh tissues she wiped off the excess cold cream.
He continued, "I told Lily how really pretty her dress was. I mean, I always see her in a t-shirt and a denim skirt. She ought to dress pretty more often because of how good she looked."
Kit seized up a hairbrush. She said, "Yes, for her age, her shape is very nice. She bit her lip. She had been about to say something bitchy. Brushing out her hair, she shot a glance at Sonny, leaning against the doorjamb, thumbs hung in his pockets, looking very pleased with himself. And still stiff in the pants. Because he was thinking of Lily? Or from watching his mother's breasts dip and bob as she vigorously brushed out her hair? The yellow dress was cut low in front and the bra was loose enough to provide a display.
He said, "Lily's got a new bikini swimsuit. Tangerine colored, she said. Maybe I'll take her to the pool tomorrow afternoon when we're finished transplanting.
Kit said, "I hope her bikini is not as revealing as my yellow one.
"Well, I haven't seen hers. You mean your real sexy one? Yeah, everybody says you look great in that. Last Saturday when you were sunbathing in the back yard, Mr. Folsom kept staring at you from the greenhouse, like his eyes were out on stems."
Kit smiled; pleased with this, shift in the conversation.
He said, "Lily says her bikini is like three postage stamps."
Kit scowled.
Oh, she had to be the center of attention. She was vain, she could not help it. She did not want to hear another single word about Lily's pink dress, her shape, or her bikini.
Still brushing her hair she asked, "Unzip me, will you, Sonny?"
She would teach him to prattle about some skinny young girl!
"Your dress?" he asked, sounding choked.
"Of course. Unzip and unhook me. I'm tired."
She laid down the hairbrush and watched herself, narrow-eyed. Her face looked pouty in the fluffy nimbus of her hair, a luxuriant copper and gold silkiness. What did Lily have? Black bangs. Very plain!
Sonny appeared in the mirror, blushing.
She would show him that Lily was not the only female in his life!
He fingered her zipper. It scratched open. She touched at her bosom to keep the dress from falling.
He went to work on her bra hooks. His fingers were shaking.
Kit smiled. Oh, he was aware of her, all right, not so blinded with love for Lily that he no longer realized how much he owed his mother.
She expanded her chest to tighten the bra hooks and make it more difficult for him.
She said, "I'm glad you like my yellow bikini. Of course, I have to wear it carefully. If I lean over my bosom just tumbles out. It doesn't cover my breasts as much as support them."
He wrenched savagely at the hooks. At last they were free.
Holding the material to her titties, Kit rose, went to her dresser and took a lime-green nightie from the drawer, then faced her open closet to hang up the dress. There she realized that it was a summer dress, destined for the laundry hamper. She had already taken a hanger from the closet. Her mind felt feathery. Was this the effect of the drug? Hanging up a summer dress! But Sonny would not notice the difference.
She peeled the dress up her body.
Then she realized that she had previously removed her panties and was showing him her bare ass.
God, she thought, am I trying to seduce him?
No, I'm befuddled by the marijuana I smoked, tangled in the dress and bra, taking them off now. Hanging up the dress, standing here stark naked, hearing Sonny breathe hard. He's staring at my nude body- What am I doing?
Rid of the dress, she slipped on the nightie. Oh, God, it was a shorty! Hip length, to be worn with matching panties. They were in the drawer. The garment was as transparent as cellophane, a lime-green was merely tinting her torso.
He said, "That sure is a pretty nightie."
So he was staring!
She could not get to the panties in the drawer without facing him. Her dressing gown was in the bathroom. She would have to bold it out.
She turned and walked toward her bed.
He said, "Of course, Lily isn't as pretty as you are, Mother."
She dropped to the bed, lay on her side facing him, an arm hiding her titties, a hand hung over her pussy.
He said, "Well, it's late. I better go to bed."
But his prick stood out like a pole tenting his pants.
He moved to her. Time for the ritual goodnight kiss. He bent over her.
Something within her spoke, an urge she had failed to subdue.
"Sonny, turn out the light. It hurts my eyes. Then come sit down a moment. I want to talk to you.
He switched off the light.
Moonlight glowed in the window. If only it were darker!
He sat on the edge of the bed.
She thought, What am I doing?
She choked, "Sonny, you have to understand a mother's viewpoint. When her son dates a girl it changes things."
"Like I'm not a little kid any more?" He laughed, sounding self-satisfied. But nervous, too.
"Yes, it's a separation, like having adhesive tape torn off my skin. I'm so lonely. I feel-all alone. I mean, you should go out with Lily. But you see, tonight I was at these people's house, a married couple, just one of me all alone."
Over his thigh she could see the head of his prick stretching his pants.
He asked, "Do you want me to go to bed?"
She could not speak. Her throat was agonizingly dry. A pulse hammered within her.
Sonny bent over her, as though to give her a goodnight cheek kiss.
She gasped, "Lie down a minute. Hold me, Sonny. I'm so-alone-lost. Please?"
He obeyed. She rested her head on his arm, wove her fingers into his shirt. He was fully dressed, in shirt and pants. It would do no harm to let him lie here.
She thought of him kissing Lily. Then something happened, one or both of them moving. His breath touched her lips and she pressed to him, rolling her lips over his, finding his tongue in them, kissing her son like a lover.
Going wild. Her hand gripped his shoulder. Her fingers began walking, marching rigidly, angrily, down his back to his hip. Greedy fingers. She clutched his thigh. Then her hand inched down the curve of it.
She seized his hard cock.
He groaned in bet mouth.
Blame it on the grass she had smoked, or on the delirium of Myra's tongue up her cunt, delicious but not hard-a woman needed cock, yes, a woman had to have her hole filled, and what did it matter whose prick did the job? Her hand was compressing a foot of bone, the heat of it burning right through his pants.
He groaned, "Mother, I can't-stop!"
Her whole belly had knotted up, was gulping at itself, hurting, on fire, clenching painfully.
She rasped, "Take off your clothes! Quick!"
He tore from her, unbuttoned his shirt and flung it away. He unzipped. A curve of cock leaped twanging into view. She had to have it. She clutched her throbbing pussy. So hot, burning- He kicked away his clothes and in the moonlight his lean body was white and beautiful, his man-meat a rigid prong, his scrotum hanging across his thigh.
Kit flung her arms and legs wide and lay waiting.
"Mother, do you want-"
"Yes!" she cried. She tore the nightie up her body, exposing her white belly and the dark muff fringing it, the hair bushing out between her spread thighs, hair masking her slit from her view but not his as he climbed between her legs and his cock dipped down, aimed at her crotch.
She shot a hand to it. God, it was a bone, a concrete club, an iron staff, a throbbing cylinder of, cock, the hardest she had ever touched, capped by a bulbous end like an apple. Bending it down with her thumb, she fingered his fat balls.
It plunged into her.
It went in like a spear, in one thrust sliding right up her gushing hole, swimming in her belly. She was a cavern, a yawning sac, an agonized emptiness into which it slid seemingly without touching her cunt walls.
He came down on her body, filling her split with rampant young cock, a twitching, throbbing prick like a giant, stony banana.
She bowed her back as she threw her arms around him. She reached all the way to his buttocks, dug her fingers in deep, and pulled, drawing him into her, all the way, crushing her spread cunt lips. She jacked up her legs and crossed them over her wrists.
She was jerking, hips wrenching, her cunt sucking at his burning tool.
She was coming already, coming like a tornado on her son s big cock.
The moment Sonny shoved into his mother's cunt he knew that his previous experience had been elementary, childish, strictly teenage experimentation.
His cock lanced into a gaping cavern, to its very depths, his pubes mashing her open, jelly-like twat lips. In the space of a heartbeat the cavern collapsed. Rather, the walls leaped inward from every direction, imprisoning the massive rigidity of his cock in a searing, rolling, fluid tube.
It was a fist composed of a thousand fingers, a multi-tongued mouth, a sump pump gulping at his ball-bat prick.
He felt her fingers dig into his ass, drawing him in, her thighs locked on his waist, her mouth suckering his tongue to her throat. He was balanced on her hot belly and the ballooning swells of her breasts.
He was a man-shape, an angular, bony, jarring length from the middle of which projected a long, iron curve of throbbing meat, being used as simply that, a male of the species.
Kit was not his mother. He was not her son. He was merely a youth coupled with a voracious female in desperate, dying need of a cock in her cunt. She did not know him. He might as well have been a machine or a male whore hired for a single fuck.
That is, he did not know her. His mother's doting tenderness was not present. This wanton, this whore, lived only for his cock.
She tore her mouth from his and shrieked, "I'm coming, coming,coming! Fuck me! I'm coming! Agghh! Agghh! Coming! Coming!"
Her whole body wrenched, tearingly, and her cunt ran in knotty ripples up and down his cock, ringing tight each time her rotating hips rose and paused, lifting him, jerking for a moment before she again fell, her cunt falling loose, while she gathered strength for the next terrible upheaval.
She was suffering, he knew, trying to break something inside her that hurt very badly.
She raised one last time, trembled all over, and then collapsed.
"Coming," she whispered faintly. "Coming, down the hill, down, thank God I'm going down, down. A river."
Her arms and legs fell from him. She lay motionless, looking away from him and breathing very hard.
He choked, "Mother, are you all right?"
Panting, swallowing, she nodded.
Strong moonlight came from the window behind her, brightening her hair but leaving her eyes shadowed, unseeable pits.
He stared into them, seeking an explanation. What had happened? Why was he mounted on his mother's body, his cock buried in her slobbering hole? How had this come about?
Her hand rose to his face and fingertips brushed caressingly over his cheek. This was the first sign that Kit, his mother, existed in the body of the voluptuous stranger he was fucking.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Sorry about what?"
She paused. "I don't know. I'm sorry because I feel guilty. I shouldn't have done it. I was half-crazy because-no, I can't blame anyone. That's the worst of it, there's nobody to blame. And I don't feel sorry enough. I must be an animal. I should be dying of shame."
As she spoke she kept wetting her lips.
"Sonny, I cheat myself so. I find excuses for everything I do, so I can live with the evil inside me. And once I have found an excuse for doing it, I dismiss it, and enjoy it. I'm enjoying it now, already. Already! I should want to kill myself! Instead I want…"
Her voice trailed off. Her arms slid caressingly about his shoulders. And once more her legs lifted, crossing on his back, her heels resting on his spine.
"Do you hate me?" she whispered.
Hate her? He could see into her shadowed eyes now, saw tears, and her habitual doting expression, as always when she gazed at him. The love that had always bound them together was there in her eyes. He could not quite believe that they were naked, he lying on her, his cock up her cunt, not when he looked into her eyes.
He kissed her lips best, Mother." and said, "I'll always love you "Sonny, did you-and Lily-do anything- together?"
He nodded.
"Did you do this?"
She turned away again, frowning, biting her lip. "What a fool I ant."
He guessed she meant she should not have pushed him at Lily the way she did. But that was unimportant. What counted was the slow realization that he was actually here between his mother's legs and that he loved it.
He nuzzled her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Mother, this is terrific."
She turned, glancing sharply at him. "Do you really like it? Being naked with me? Your-penis- inside me?"
He nodded, kissing her cheek.
"You don't feel-strange-about it?"
"I don't know. It's just terrific. I can't explain. I guess all I care is if it makes you happy."
She was silent. Her hands began slowly caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck. Her touch was affectionate, aimless, as though she were thinking of something else.
She whispered, "You don't feel badly about it? Ashamed?"
"No. Just surprised." This was true, though maybe because it had been her doing. Still, he recalled the moment after stripping off his clothes and climbing on the bed between her legs, looking at her open, hairy cunt lips, the glistening flesh of her split. Nobody had made him stick his cock into it.
But that was past. His twitching cock was buried in his mother's belly and his chest was flattening her plump breasts. That's where he was.
She asked, "Did you like Lily better?"
He tried to recall fucking Lily. He could not even imagine it. He could only picture the Lily he had always known, in a denim skirt and a t-shirt, her tits marked on it by dirt from carrying flats and boxes.
Before he could answer his cock gave a surge and he found that his hips were moving, slowly, rigidly. He felt a jogging of his prick deep in his mother's cunt, a hard clicking of his hipbones, an abrasion of his knees against the sheet.
He said, "I'm here. That's all. I'm here."
His voice came out thin, as though drawn through a keyhole. A pulse pounded in his forehead. His cock was swelling up, filling her. He arched his back, drawing his cock slowly out. Air cooled it, telling him how hot her cunt was. His tip rested in the portals, in a pool of oily juice.
He shoved in hard, gasped at the scalding heat engulfing his cockstem.
"Ahh-hh!" he breathed.
She squeezed him and whispered in his ear,
"Sonny, is it good?"
"You're so hot inside!"
"Oh, darling. Oh, you sweet boy. If only you were-not-but darling, you are. And it is such a hard, long thing, the best prick I've ever had in me, really it is. So terribly hard! I just love it."
He moved in long, stiff sweeps, sliding in and out, his scrotum flopping into the cleft of her ass at the end of each stroke. His skin was so sensitive that her ass hairs seemed to etch their curled shapes on his scrotum, and her pubic muff, larger than the hair nest from which his cock sprouted, mashed silkenly at his naked groin. Her broad, plump mound formed a cushion that dwarfed Lily's and the hot orbs of her tits made the girl's seem like oranges. But the greatest thrill was more than the maturity of her physique, the soft, round arms about his shoulders, the lusty thighs cradling him, the ham-like buttocks he pressed against. The best was the liquid violence of her lust, the way her indrawing, squishy cunt expressed the hungers of her entire body.
He wanted to tell her that. But if he spoke he would be distracted by one of a hundred other sensual impressions, the stiff rubberiness of her tit knobs, the strongly female odor of her armpits; the softness of her cheek as he rubbed his chin on it. He thus held his tongue and shortly paused in fucking her to study individually these exquisite sensations.
He fingered a small, dainty, shell-like ear.
She smiled up at him. "You're tickling me."
He pressed his lips to the ear, breathed into it. Kit squirmed all over. Her cunt sucked at his prick.
He mouthed the ear, tongued lightly, whispered, "Does this tickle?"
"You little devil, that makes me squirt inside." Her arms tightened on his shoulders. "But don't stop it."
He laughed. He nuzzled her soft neck. He raised, looked into her eyes and saw all her old affection magnified a hundred times, a thousand smiles crinkling her eye corners.
He said, "You're not sorry now? I mean, sorry that it happened?"
She shook her head. "No, because being sorry would spoil it. You're right, it happened. Like an accident. So there, that's all there is to it. I love feeling you on top of me, your beautiful big thing up my vagina, your balls nestling into my behind. Nothing else counts."
His own doubts were dispersing as she spoke. Still exploring the delights of her body, he raised enough to see her breasts, the swollen caps darkish, gathering shadows, while the white orbs captured moonlight, bright hillocks each leaning a bit to its side. He cupped his hands on them and kneaded the soft, yet firm, flesh, delighting in its resilience, moving the peaks, digging in his fingers.
He whispered, "Should I suck them?"
"Darling, I think you'd better shoot your load into me. Later we can play all sorts of games.
"I'm in no hurry."
"I suppose not." She rapped a finger on his cheek. "Because you screwed Lily and got off your trigger edge. You horny little devil! If I don't watch out, you'll be into every cunt in the neighborhood."
She spoke lightly but he heard the tightness of jealousy in her voice.
She said, "Besides, I'm starting another orgasm and I want us to come together, it would be ten times as good for me. Will you, please, just let it go? Run wild on me?"
He realized that he had a certain power. She was begging him. His mood was to dawdle, tease her, wallow in the voluptuousness of this incredible new experience.
But she soon showed him that she could add muscle to her begging.
Her heels dug into his spine. Braced, she lifted, her cunt slowly closing, at last compressing his cock, then squeezing a ring from the root up the stem to the head, where the ring seemed to palpitate, sucking squishily.
The feel of that wet, fluttering pressure on his cockhead shot down his cock to his balls. His whole body stiffened and jerked.
He reared up, plunged violently back into her.
He gasped, "Mother! Agh-hh! What you're doing!"
"Ride me, honey."
Braced on forearms and knees, he whipped his body in, sliding his prong up her cavern, whacking his balls against her ass.
She gave a cry and armed him fiercely tight. "Sonny, oh-hh! I can feel y our balls swat me! Oh, they're such lovely big balls, such a loose scrotum, swinging like a bell! Rick me long and hard, darling! Hit me with your nuts, please hit me hard!"
He was gasping, his eyes bulging, his body on fire. He speared in and out of her sludging, grabbing, sizzling cunt, terribly aware of his balls, of how they struck and jolted and flames erupted from them into his cock, a horn such as he had never before possessed, a gargantuan cock filling and naming every drooling inch of her cunt.
She heaved in long, wrenching pulls, the big muscles of her thighs and hips and buttocks channeling their strength into the core of her, the gulping cunt milking his prick.
He howled, bucking high, whacking her clit, his loins seeming to splash in her open, jellied cunt lips. An unmoving bolt of fire clawed at the core of his cock, enlarging and tearing as the pounding his balls were taking jolted jism up to pool and seethe and struggle to escape.
"Oh fuck me," she sobbed. "Fuck me, Sonny, shoot your jism into my cunt! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
He blasted and his mother's body arched up, twanging and wrenching, her hairy pubes grinding his, her thighs crushing him. She bit his throat, then flung her head about as she lurched into orgasm.
His charge flew into her and Kit shrieked. He heard the bedsprings creak loudly and the splat of his balls against her ass, the swishing suction of her cunt, even the sound of her heels beating his back.
On his second shot her breath hissed out like the puncturing of a car tire.
Still he fired into his mother's convulsing belly, feeling a terrible joy, a power, in his triumph, in his driving her through the explosive upheaval of this orgasm. His cock spewed into her and her moans weakened, became sobs. His thrusts slowed, pulling noisily from the squishy seal of her hole, returning heavily into her gurgling cavern.
Her limbs fell from him, her whole body jellied.
Still he pumped her. He wanted to be the best lover she had ever known, no matter if he exhausted himself.
His last spurts had dribbled into her, but plumbing her sloshy cunt was still the biggest thrill of his life.
Sonny dreamed that his cock had grown out like a baseball bat, wagging from side to side as he walked. It was heavy but he could bear the weight, and by clenching his ass he made it angle up, pointing at the face of whoever he met.
He awoke in the first pink light of dawn, his prick bone hard.
He was not alone.
On his side, he gazed at a luscious female form, back to him, narrow of shoulder, fine waisted, hip arching strongly.
He was in bed with his mother.
He studied her form, the sprawl of loose red hair on the pillow, coppery strands tangled in gold and mahogany; this was real, not a dream. That was his mother's silken hair, and a small, soft hand was half-concealed by a curled lock of it: He had long known that his mother's hair was not simply red but a mixture, and now he gazed at it, picking out a strawberry hue bright in the dawn light, and dark tangles emphasizing that brightness.
His cockhead reached almost to the cleft in her buttocks.
Yes, they had become lovers last night. After discharging his load he had lain long in her arms, lulled by her caresses and sweet murmurings, until he had fallen asleep.
Now his prick was fully erect, the head inflamed, the skin pulled painfully tight.
Would she want to do it again?
He still did not know why it had happened.
Maybe she had been drinking, had not been herself, had, in a crazy moment of excitement, let him sink his dick into her glorious cunt. Maybe now she would regret it, spurn him, send him away.
Her breathing was even. If he could slip it in without awakening her- He scrunched down on the bed, under her buttocks. He could see the fringe of hair in her cleft, widening, then very thick on her plump pussy lips.
He hipped up to her and fingered his cockhead between the dewy labia. Soft. He pushed, watched his cockhead spread the lips and then disappear inside.
Heat seethed on his throbbing tip.
Her cuntlips had ovaled to the form of his cock.
Then she whispered, "Sonny-"
He jerked, startled by the faint sound in the quiet of morning.
He choked, "Mother, I wanted to-it's so hard it almost hurts-"
Her leg lifted. Her torso curled down: Gazing at the cock half buried within her hairy cunt lips, he saw her small hand appear under her thigh, thumb and forefinger closing on the base of his stem, then nudging, steering him into her hole.
She squirmed, backing to him. His penetration deepened.
She fingered his balls up into the palm of her hand and gently kneaded them.
He pushed in until he was flush against the hot swells of her buttocks.
"Ah-hh!" she murmured. "Sonny, you have no idea how wonderful it is to wake up feeling a cock push into me.
Holding her hip, he pushed deeper. She stiffened, moaning.
His prick was bathed in fire. There were little flutters, very faint movements of her cunt walls.
He stilled, studying the throbbing of his cock in her hot hole.
She said, "I'd love to wake up every morning being fucked. Sonny, you will sleep with me, won't you? From now on?"
"Yes, Mother."
"It will be so easy, no chasing around, knowing that at night you'll shove it into me, sure that when I wake up in the morning you'll be poking at my cunt. Sonny, do you love me?"
"Yes, Mother." He reached up her body to her front and cupped his hand on her breast. On her side, the tit had fallen against the one underneath. He fingered it tip and held the firm weight of it.
"I think you should call me Kit. You're grown up, now."
He frowned. "I don't know." In truth, he was fucking his mother, whom he loved, and because he loved her. To him she was not a woman named Kit.
She said, "Well, call me what you wish. Darling, fuck me a little, a few long thrusts-"
He drew back, then lipped in, sliding it up the curve of her cunt, gasping as the heat closed in. Her response was a shiver, a quick undulation inside, very gentle compared to last night.
He gave her several long penetrations, each time bringing his cockhead out into the coral mouth of her hole, letting it throb there a second before he again drove up into her.
She moaned in gasps that seemed to ooze out of her mouth, breathless, easy, spelling out her satisfaction.
He paused, asking, "Mother, do you like it this way, from behind?"
"Urn-mm! Do I ever! Though, I need pressure on my clit to come.
"Do you want me to get on top?"
"No, darling, I just adore this. And if I want to come, I'll just rub your balls on my clit. If that isn't harsh enough, I'll finger it."
"You mean, like masturbating?" He was surprised.
"Yes. I squeeze it, pull a little, rub it when I'm getting to the peak."
"I didn't know that women did that, I mean, when they're being-fucked."
"I do. I don't know about other women." Then she giggled. "Would you like to see it?"
She continually amazed him. He said, "I guess so. I mean, if you don't mind."
"Then, pull out, but wait. Give me a few more good ones like this. Okay?"
He rammed in, long, hard ones, and.Kit moaned loudly as he flattened her ass, digging in, boring into her, grunting with pleasure at the seething heat now sucking his cock and the lovely softness of her buttocks as he flattened them.
Finally he withdrew and pushed upright. His mother turned on her back and looked up at him, smiling, her eyes misty.
He avoided her gaze. He could not yet look directly at her.
She had spread her legs and inserted a fingertip in the upper part of her slit. He saw the glossy, pink little nubbin bend before the push of her finger.
Her hairy twat lips had spread out, forming an oval about her gash. Between her raised inner lips he could see her-pee hole and below the red rim of her vagina.
His cock gave a violent twitch. A hammering within him connected to his cock. He was very suddenly on fire. A minute ago he had been all calmness, shoving his cock into her from behind as she directed. But now- "Mother, I have to-I'm exploding-"
"Yes, darling." Her legs jacked up, drew back, her knees beside her tits. Her split gaped and her vaginal orifice raised. Below it he saw the knot of her asshole. Her arms reached toward him. "Darling, mount me. Honey, fuck your mother, just climb onto me and slide that beautiful cock into my cunt."
He thrust into her arms. Her hand, flat on her mound bush, turned up and received his cockhead, bent it down as he shoved, and, oh God, he was in, buried in her, flopping down on the mounds of her tits, tonguing into her yawning mouth.
She moaned into his throat and her legs crossed on his back, drawing him in.
He fucked her with jackhammer speed.
Her hip movements matched his, perfectly timed, an insanely fast rhythm, the beginning of a come. Yes, he was going to shoot his nuts off right now!
Feverishly he sucked his mother's mouth, whacked his cock into her squirting hole, felt it grab his rod and wrench it, strip it. Like last night, those thousand inner fingers were jellying as they squeezed and pulled at his cock.
His nuts seemed to rattle against her ass.
He cried, "Mother, I can't hold back! I'm going to shoot off!"
"Let it go, darling! Let it go, just fuck like crazy, screw me right through the bed, pound me, honey! Oh, FUCK ME!"
He was roaring, banging his loins into her juicy gash, his immense prick swishing up her into the suction, withdrawing as though pulling her cunt out with his cockhead.
Her limbs vised him in. Held as though in a fist, he strove with every muscle to blast through, to ease the load in his slamming balls.
Then he reared up and blasted.
"There!" he howled. "I'm shooting off!"
Her panting seemed to fill the room. She jerked frantically against him, her cunt sucking at his flying jism.
She was laughing and crying, moaning and shrieking, raising up off the bed and whacking her wet belly against him.
"Sonny, what a come! I'm coming all the way to my teeth, my toes and fingers! I am coming! Honey, keep on fucking! Yes, fuck me!"
As he blasted he realized what pleasure he was giving her. The understanding of it came in a flash, and he saw how she was thrashing about, heard her shrieks and moans, saw the joy transfiguring her face.
He sank his tongue into her mouth and she sucked it as he delivered his last charge.
There was a moment of silence, all movement stopped.
She held him trapped in her crossed arms and legs as he tumbled downhill from the peak of ecstasy.
Her body softened.
As he panted against her cheek she whispered, "Honey, I've never been so well fucked in my life."