We made a big mistake. That’s what started this whole fiasco. And now, looking back on things, that mistake wasn’t nearly as momentous as the bigger mistakes that followed. And so I find myself every weekend; serving food and drinks, washing dishes and sheets, and entertaining my good buddies while they spend two days a week, and sometimes more, fucking my mom.
Every Friday evening just past supper time, when the nervous feeling in our stomachs starts to bubble-up regardless of what we eat; and the after dinner glass of wine has morphed into a bottle, we put away the everyday signs of domestic tranquility, and lay-out the more deviant party treats that are required by our “guests.”
The good china, better linens and luxury lotions are stored away. Old sheets are thrown over the furniture, paper and plastic utensils are brought-out, and the locked cabinet is opened to allow access to all manner of leather objects and phallic toys.
And the most sordid and demeaning moment of all is when the doorbell rings just as night is falling, and I watch my mom slavishly unbutton her blouse while I trudge over to the door, to welcome my “friends.”
My mother has resignedly accepted her vassal fate in a stoic manner. She taught religious training for years, and was terribly conflicted by the lewd and incestuous activity we had been engaging in, for the most part of a year. She allows me liberties with her sensuous body and I have initiated her into the mystifying realm of dom/sub. She has learned that ceding control of her sex routine has increased her libido. And I have developed a new confidence in dominating and conditioning my mom in an exciting method of physical intrigue. Our boring, nearly non-existent sexual routine, has become a spontaneous, try-anything, adventure that has increased and intensified our orgasms. I have gotten used to casually reaching under her shirt, or placing her on her knees for my own enjoyment and reveling in her new subservience. She savored the freedom to experiment and act-out a hidden fantasy life. We fucked constantly. She enjoyed it and often instigated some wild, sensual situations, but she told me once that though she relished the orgasms they provided, her conscience would sometimes bother her. I was also stricken by the obvious taboo of incest and force, (but I worked through it.)
Now there comes a strange twist to our little perversion. A new participant to our game, that has altered the dynamics of our relationship. A major third party has invaded our activities like a virus infecting a computer, and compelling us to accept new rules that have been introduced to the game, without our consent. She believes that this is some awful form of divine retribution for the sin of having sex with her son. She believes that she drove me to this outcome, and that she was enjoying her decadent, deviant thrills a bit too lustily for even “a bad girl.” So she goes through with the new sex-by-extortion, first as a means to safeguard what’s left of hers and my reputation. And secondly as a kind of ashes and sackcloth penance, in which she must punish herself by the same behavior that she wallowed in.
For my part, I am horrified that my blackmailing associates might let it leak, that I’ve been having deviant and incestuous relations with my mother. And for my role in getting my mom caught-up in this monstrous mess. As my punishment, I mostly have to watch and listen to a parade of my fellow school chums, as they take their dirty turns passing my mother around or even worse, when they all gangbang her and force me to literally describe the erotic maneuvers in explicit, pornographic details. It’s sometimes as if I’m watching some horrible game of naked Twister, where body parts are indistinguishable, and at a certain spin of the wheel, my mother gets anointed in sperm. My role is to cheer on the contestants and provide a running commentary on my mom’s physique and her abilities to handle more than one cock at a time. I am often required to express how “hot” it looks to see so many big cocks baptizing my mom in sperm. Or how her tight cunt foams at the thought of how much cum she can guzzle in any one setting. Everyone, (mom included) gets more aroused as the language and descriptions become more raunchy. And sometimes I need to “tell the crusty slut whose gigantic cock she should suck next.”
The first time that I complained; after mentioning that they could easily spread the news of our little tryst, they also threatened to hold me down and shove their big, hard cocks in me. In my defense, my mom offered them access to her tight ass. Now they get a cheap trill out of making me lick her twat after they have each deposited their sticky loads, and I realized that they filmed the encounter, adding to their growing blackmail evidence and furthering their corrupt power over us. I have new masters too!
The entire crazy episode started about a year ago. My mom Crystal, is a high school teacher who has a solid gaziantep escort pornoları reputation as a straight-laced, conservative, single woman, who keeps her emotions and sexual attitudes under wraps. Then a serious legal and financial situation caused an erotic change to come over her. We were able to stem the crisis, but the staggering effect on needing to rely on me for monetary and physical support brought-on a stunning and transformational reversal of her sexual psyche. At first she was like a child having lost her way, but then an entirely unique personality emerged. It started as a reluctant woman almost appearing to repay a debt. Then developed into a lust-crazed submissive, needing only a spark to kindle some deep-rooted, erotic fancies.
I must admit that I took every advantage of the change in roles. And I found the sudden new power dynamic to be sexually stimulating and intoxicating. We fell into a depraved pattern of incestuous, carefree sexual escapades that turned my mom from a repressed, closeted homemaker, into a sensual, ribald dynamo. She continued to dress and act as a no-nonsense, no-frills, school-marm on the job. But at home, after a daring summer of sexual exploration and a startling desire to express her inner-slut, my mom became my personal fuck-toy. And I compounded the sin by encouraging her trampy behavior, and introducing her to various manners of indecent fulfillment. Her sexy, submissive body became my sensual playground. I demanded that she say, “my slutty body belongs to you…” and that, “I worship your cock and love your sweet cum,” and it heightened her pleasure to obey and be abased. She told me that obscene language and the feeling of subordination enhanced the thrill for her. And increased the force of her orgasms. I loved that it pleased her and I thought it only served to increase her beauty.
Crystal has a gorgeous, heart-shaped face with sharply defined cheeks and jawline, and plump, pink lips. She has long, honey-blonde hair that I insist she wear down at home, free from the confining pins and ponytails she fashions for work. And her attire at school purposely obscures her magnificent figure, like painting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. The long muscular legs hidden by knee-length skirts, the firm bubbly ass concealed by layers of fabric that is only noted when she bounces down the halls in four-inch heels, and the full, rounded 38DDs bound and constrained under bra, slip, blouse and jacket.
At home now, my demure wall-flower mother has metamorphosed into a rare and exotic butterfly, sexually charged and anxious to live-out her slave-girl daydreams. And with each passing summer day, we gradually added little bits of erotic excitement to our mutual pleasure. We took turns ordering revealing outfits and purchased vibrating toys and Velcro restraints. There was a weekly movie night, where we watched all genres of x-rated films as we cuddled and groped on the couch. Then we used the images of those movies as inspiration; acting-out various scenes for the next few nights, or researching online sites to recreate as sexual role-play. We also had phone-sex and began to shower together. It was fantastic for both of us.
A year that started so depressingly awful became a bonding and thrilling few months of sexual growth and freedom for the both of us. We knew that it may be considered immoral or inappropriate, but we were in our own home, of legal age, and not hurting anyone.
As the new school year approached for each of us, (my final year of college,) we planned an Autumn “blow-out.” A simple porch party for her friends and mine. My mom and I had different last names that we continued to keep for a few reasons. My father passed away right before I was born and just prior to them getting married. So I kept his last name, and in high school, even in my mom’s class, nobody knew that we were related. She was Miss Caldwell and I was John Rollins, JR for short. This sometimes led to some awkward moments, and I was subjected to hearing some crude remarks concerning my mother’s bodacious figure. Even in her usual frumpy clothes (I’m sure that they were stylish, but what eighteen year-old sees that,) there was no way to hide her curves. I grew to fantasize about her in the most obscene and demented ways.
As time went by after my graduation, we became much less concerned about the names, or about people knowing that we were related. Our acquaintances found it to be a fun story. The remarks continued to be heard but were not as nasty around me, and my mom grew to tolerate and even accept the whispered descriptions of being a sexy MILF. The party put a new spin on things.
Towards the end of a long night of drinking under a hot sun, and long after the older folks had left and my mom went to bed, there were only four of us left. We still drank, watched porn and shared lies about sex. And that was the recipe for the big mistake.
Jimmy escort pornoları and Rich are brothers, and we have been best friends since Little League. Due to sleep-overs and summer camp, these two have always been aware of my mom and were careful and considerate of our secret. Though as they grew older, their leering eyes and lewd, suggestive comments about my mom’s figure and sexuality increased, usually in proportion to how much alcohol they consumed.
Greg was a friend from high school and we continued on to the same university. So we began to hang-out more. In talking about high school, he always mentioned that he would have liked to fuck the Civics teacher, not knowing that she was my mother until they were introduced over a meal. His comments to me stopped also, but I always noticed his lingering looks at her and he exchanged whispering laughs with Richie and Jim when out of hearing.
On this particular eighty-proof night, we were laughing, doing shots, and watching porn that involved the seduction of a MILF by a young guy. They were hooting and exchanging high-fives, bragging about their supposed conquests of older women, when I was dared to reveal if I had ever been with a more mature woman. When I clumsily mentioned that I had, they challenged me to provide details, since none of them had seen me with anyone in a long while.
I don’t remember exactly what I said or which clues I may have dropped, that led them all at the same moment to accuse me of “fooling around” with my mom. But the night ended abruptly and an odd wet blanket of bewildered sobriety settled over them as they shuffled out the door, and an uneasy shudder rumbled through my system. I watched them stumble down the block, mumbling to each other like conspirators to a plot.
Things seemed to settle down after that, until one day we had just finished a basketball game in the park, with a couple of sixers and a pint of varnish remover. Talk again circled around to sex with older women, and my experiences with it. I always believed that I was one of the guys and I never thought that they were just plying me with alcohol and pumping me for answers, but as I said, mistakes were made. And I uttered something stupid.
I see that the hooch acted on me like a truth serum, and I felt the childish need to enhance my reputation as a “ladies man.” One terrible thing led to another, and the accusatory glances mingled with knowing smirks. I felt momentarily relieved when Greggy joked that, “anybody would fuck their mom, if she looked like Crystal.”
During all of this time I was still having sex with my mom. It was something that was just too good to resist, regardless of anyone else’s moral implications. Mom had been nervous and worried at first about expressing her urges and longings to me, (it’s weird that she could strip and suck my cock, first.) We were not in love, and this was not a romantic tryst, and we both knew that it would someday soon, draw to an end. But we were having great sex, a lot of laughs and good times together, and we could trust in each other’s discretion and brought a unique give-and-take to the “affair.” She valued the freedom and release of trying kinky things without embarrassment or judgement, and she was able to live-out sexual fantasies that she had kept repressed.
Mom had grown more and more to rely on my decision-making, her determined attitude was now only her public persona. In her private life she treasured being able to explore a submissive side, and wanted someone to command her to do the things that she really desired to do. She was secure that her secret was safe. And the introduction of the BDSM fascinated her, allowing a chance to act on her wilder passions.
I had not been a virgin, as my friends intimated, but no twenty year-old could measure-up to the erotic fantasies I fulfilled with my beautiful mom, plus came the added lewd drama of incest with a parent. I adored her heart-shaped face with the
pouty pink lips and sharp cheeks. Her eyes were a stunning shade of cobalt, that shimmered when she smiled and I found, would sparkle at the moment of orgasm.
She had mounds of thick, luxurious golden hair that was sprinkled with auburn highlights. She mostly wore it pinned in a tight bun at work, but for me, it was always cascading in heavy waves across her back or lightly touching and hiding the exposed tips of her breasts when she was topless. And those breasts were a sight to behold. Full double-Ds, hardly any sag, brownish nipples the look the size of pencil erasers, and best of all, they belonged to me. I used to masturbate to the forbidden thought of catching her in the shower or witnessing her bikini top sliding down in the pool. I would imagine my hands fondling and caressing the large, warm globes while I gently nipped and bit at the large brown areola and chewed on her rubbery nipples. I could imagine my big cock squeezed in the deep escort gaziantep pornoları cleavage, coated with her saliva, and rapidly gliding between her pliant boobs until I exploded in a syrupy stream of milky goo at her open mouth. Crystal was now, aware of my fascination with her tits and the oral compulsion I needed her to fill. She eagerly and brazenly complied with my wishes and told me she wanted to be my “best little cocksucker.” She would playfully strip at my command or allow me to reach under her clothes, or even tear them from her body when I wanted to “rape” her. She often spent the entire evening topless, sometimes even in the car she would flash me or remove her shirt. We both loved the sensation of my hands cupping and gripping those mammoth tits.
After the bizarre circumstances that led her into the arms of her son, we became more comfortable with the odd predicament, and our roles became more well defined as master and slave-girl. I could not resist the charge of walking in the door and being greeted by my lusty mom, on her knees, topless, and offering to suck me. She liked the titillation of slowly peeling-off sexy underwear to the sultry rhythm of soft jazz, and like a cat, stretching and arching her curvy body in wild gyrations, meant to drive me crazy.
At other times we would watch porn featuring older women in slinky outfits with toys and restraints. We lounged together on the couch and let our hands roam like teenagers. When the passion grew too intense, we would hurry to the bedroom to practice or improve on what we had just watched. The sex was fantastic. Her eagerness and enthusiasm was overwhelming and there was some new spark of imagination every night. She was an avid pupil and wished only to please. It was great. Then came the knock at the door.
It was a Thursday night and mom and I had spent an early evening in a spirited game of role play. I was the lecherous Headmaster at a girls’ school and she was the pig-tailed, bobby-soxed virgin in my detention class. I made her remove her outer-wear and let down her hair. She stood nervously before me in just patent leather shoes and a small bra that was no match for her incredible chest. Crystal’s “punishment” was to lay across my bare lap, as I paddled her plump ass. After a few strokes, her butt began to redden and her hands groped for the thick pole poking at her belly. She twitched under the spanking, and my fingers started to worm their way into her puckered, little rear-end. As she bucked and moaned, her mouth captured my organ and she proceeded to her magical oral arts. I pushed her to her knees and took her head between my hands. My cock drove into her mouth hard and deep. She gurgled and gagged, finally developing a rhythm and inhaling steadily until she drained my rod. I told her that I intended to fuck her ass in the same way I fucked her mouth, she pivoted, quickly presenting her small, brown hole for my pleasure. I crawled between her thighs, gripped her waist, and used her saliva as a lube for my approach. When I settled my cock in her tight hole, I reached for her low swinging tits, and plunged deep inside her hot cavern. We fucked like that, rocking on the carpet, until we both came with a shudder. When I pulled out, a lake of milky semen spilled out of her crack and flowed down her thighs. We rolled on our backs, my cock still pointing skyward, and she took it in her hand, rubbing the sticky fluid up and down my shaft. She hovered over me and swept it into her mouth, to my amazement she sucked and licked it dry.
When she laid back down, strumming her clit with her sticky fingers, Crystal marveled that, “I never dreamed that I would suck my son’s cock after he had been fucking my ass.” She parted her shapely legs and placed two fingers at the entrance to her shaved pussy. She rubbed the small pink nub peeking out from under it’s hood, and slowly inserted the other finger into her wet twat. “I’m such a dirty slut, aren’t I JR? Don’t you think I should be fucked some more? What kind of mother sucks her boy’s cock, and begs for him to rape her ass? Only a whore, that’s what I am, huh? I’m your whore. Fuck me please JR, fuck me good.”
She had discovered that crude descriptions and degrading images of sex enhanced her pleasure, and she reached stronger levels of orgasm when she was put in positions of total submission. So I grabbed a big fistful of her thick hair and twisted it around my fist, dragging her to her knees. I slapped her big tits until they turned hot pink, twisting the erect nipples and forced her head back so that she could only stare into my eyes. Then I drove my cock back into her throat and rammed it back and forth until I pumped my seed. “Take my cock, you whorey cunt,” I scream into her face. Play with your pussy while you suck me. I know you can only cum with my big bone in your slutty mouth. If you want to cum, you better give me the best blowjob of your life. Suck my meat and swallow my load while you finger that raunchy cunt of yours.” I fill her with my salty jizm just as her own thunderous orgasm jolts her entire torso. We slowly collapse on the rug in a sweaty mass of sticky fluids and exhausted parts, gasping for air and smiling ear-to-ear. She staggered up to bed, limping slightly from the extended pounding administered to her backside, but vowing to be recovered by morning.