21-08-2019, 08:23 PM
It was wide open, covered only by the screen. “Be very quiet, Ben. We’re going to do something very special tonight but you’ll have to control yourself. Are you in?” I nodded. “Good. Get down on your knees.” I knelt before Mom. She came closer, and closer, until her trimmed bush tickled my face. I pressed my nose against her belly and let my tongue slip past my lips, curling up into her furrow to taste hers. Mom’s hands curved around my head and pressed my face against her with gentle pressure. Her hips rotated and she sighed as my tongue entered her pussy. A minute later, Mom was slipping and sliding steadily up and down my face, her fingers gripping my hair tightly. Except for the sound of her breathing there was only the rustle of the trees from the light breeze. I braced my hands on the back of Mom’s thighs but she moved hers down to bat mine away without slowing her churning hips. A new sound entered my ears: Mom’s wet pussy working around my stiff tongue. Abruptly, Mom’s hips went into overdrive. “Oh… oh, oh, ohhh… uh huh, uh huh, uh huh… oh, yes… yeah, yeah, yesssss, yessss, yesssssssss.” Mom was not losing control. Her words were whispered and the intervening sighs muted.
Slowing, her hips were slowing, she was stepping back, falling to her knees, panting heavily, her hands covering her sex, arms closing in front, squeezing her boobs together, back arching, head falling back, looking at the sky. “Yesssss, oh yessss.” Mom flopped forward. I sat back on my heels, cock wavering in front of me, still hard and ready to go. I waited patiently, sure that it would now be my turn. I turned to look back at the bedroom window, suddenly nervous. Mom hadn’t been loud but if Dad was awake, could he have heard her? I couldn’t see any movement or any sign of lightness that would indicate someone standing in the window. I whipped my head around when Mom’s lips covered my cock. She was sucking me, the fingers of one hand now circling my root while the other slipped down the underside of my shaft and onto my balls. I dropped my hands to the side of her head and thrust forward slightly, betraying my eagerness. Mom’s mouth pulled off my cock and my hands were smacked roughly away. Her mouth regained my helmet and slid down my shaft. I kept my hands to myself. Up and down, twisting, sucking, fingers squeezing and stroking, nails scratching, tongue rubbing, flicking my tip, swirling around it, mouth sucking, for so long… oh, so long.
I moved my hands toward Mom’s head but caught myself before I ruined everything. God, I wanted to hold her head, to fuck her face. Why was she teasing me so? I pushed forward, afraid of the response but unable to hold back. No reaction, just Mom’s mouth pushed more firmly over my shaft. I pushed forward again, gently, provoking a gargling sound as my cock pushed against the back of Mom’s mouth, but still no recrimination. I moved my hips steadily, slowly at first, just a bit ahead and back, but fucking just the same. Fucking Mom’s mouth! Fucking her face! I moved so steadily it was hard to realize I was pushing forward in longer and longer strokes and moving faster and faster. The sucking sounds from Mom’s mouth were louder now, as was the wet gargling sound, but I didn’t turn around to see if they were being registered by anyone else but us. This was too good not to focus on it completely. Not a single neuron in my brain was willing to direct its attention elsewhere. How could she take such long strokes in her mouth? Incredible. She was so wet, her mouth and my cock sloppy with saliva, making it so slick. So fucking good.
Faster now, it wouldn’t be long, my hands resting on the top of my thighs, slipping around underneath to help lift my cock into Mom’s face. Oh, god, yeah. Mom’s hands on mine, pulling them away from my legs, toward her, onto her head, clasping them over her ears, letting go, leaving my hands in place, holding her head. I pulled Mom’s face onto my cock, thrusting, holding in, pulling out, thrusting in, holding, oh god… I was coming, coming, coming, leaning over Mom’s head, kissing her hair, keeping her mouth on my spurting cock, mumbling, “I love you, love you, love you.” I was still, chest heaving, gasping for air, cock slipping out, over Mom’s lips, hands running down Mom’s back to her ass, hugging her. Mom was pulling away, her back straightening. I did too. She reached out and took my flaccid cock in her hand and began stroking it. Nothing happened for a minute or too, my manliness failing me, but then it struggled to rise, to once more venture into the breech. Mom leaned over my valiant, half-hard erection and… drooled saliva all over it! She worked it in with her hands, then bent and drooled on it again, then again.
Mom walked on her knees past me. I turned to follow but she stopped, hunched over, knees and calves together. She looked back at me. “Ben,” she whispered. “Yes,” I whispered back. “You have to do this very quietly, understand?” “Yes,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “You’ll have to keep me quiet too, understand?” “Yes.” Now I was really in the dark. Mom turned her face to the ground, reached behind herself with both hands, and pulled her cheeks apart. Ahhhhh, now I understood. Was this what Gwen and Mom had secretly understood? Was there one more statue to make? I crabbed my knees forward, fitting in behind Mom, my cock now rapidly hardening to the consistency of a steel pike. “Spit on it,” Mom’s voice instructed, though I couldn’t see her face. I bent over and spit on my cock. “No, on me.” Oh. I redirected my face and drooled spittle over Mom’s ass where I thought her asshole was. I used my finger to spread it around, searching for the little gateway. My finger slipped right into it. Had Mom prepared for this before she came downstairs? I had seen her anus before and it was a tight little pucker, not partly open like this.
Slowing, her hips were slowing, she was stepping back, falling to her knees, panting heavily, her hands covering her sex, arms closing in front, squeezing her boobs together, back arching, head falling back, looking at the sky. “Yesssss, oh yessss.” Mom flopped forward. I sat back on my heels, cock wavering in front of me, still hard and ready to go. I waited patiently, sure that it would now be my turn. I turned to look back at the bedroom window, suddenly nervous. Mom hadn’t been loud but if Dad was awake, could he have heard her? I couldn’t see any movement or any sign of lightness that would indicate someone standing in the window. I whipped my head around when Mom’s lips covered my cock. She was sucking me, the fingers of one hand now circling my root while the other slipped down the underside of my shaft and onto my balls. I dropped my hands to the side of her head and thrust forward slightly, betraying my eagerness. Mom’s mouth pulled off my cock and my hands were smacked roughly away. Her mouth regained my helmet and slid down my shaft. I kept my hands to myself. Up and down, twisting, sucking, fingers squeezing and stroking, nails scratching, tongue rubbing, flicking my tip, swirling around it, mouth sucking, for so long… oh, so long.
I moved my hands toward Mom’s head but caught myself before I ruined everything. God, I wanted to hold her head, to fuck her face. Why was she teasing me so? I pushed forward, afraid of the response but unable to hold back. No reaction, just Mom’s mouth pushed more firmly over my shaft. I pushed forward again, gently, provoking a gargling sound as my cock pushed against the back of Mom’s mouth, but still no recrimination. I moved my hips steadily, slowly at first, just a bit ahead and back, but fucking just the same. Fucking Mom’s mouth! Fucking her face! I moved so steadily it was hard to realize I was pushing forward in longer and longer strokes and moving faster and faster. The sucking sounds from Mom’s mouth were louder now, as was the wet gargling sound, but I didn’t turn around to see if they were being registered by anyone else but us. This was too good not to focus on it completely. Not a single neuron in my brain was willing to direct its attention elsewhere. How could she take such long strokes in her mouth? Incredible. She was so wet, her mouth and my cock sloppy with saliva, making it so slick. So fucking good.
Faster now, it wouldn’t be long, my hands resting on the top of my thighs, slipping around underneath to help lift my cock into Mom’s face. Oh, god, yeah. Mom’s hands on mine, pulling them away from my legs, toward her, onto her head, clasping them over her ears, letting go, leaving my hands in place, holding her head. I pulled Mom’s face onto my cock, thrusting, holding in, pulling out, thrusting in, holding, oh god… I was coming, coming, coming, leaning over Mom’s head, kissing her hair, keeping her mouth on my spurting cock, mumbling, “I love you, love you, love you.” I was still, chest heaving, gasping for air, cock slipping out, over Mom’s lips, hands running down Mom’s back to her ass, hugging her. Mom was pulling away, her back straightening. I did too. She reached out and took my flaccid cock in her hand and began stroking it. Nothing happened for a minute or too, my manliness failing me, but then it struggled to rise, to once more venture into the breech. Mom leaned over my valiant, half-hard erection and… drooled saliva all over it! She worked it in with her hands, then bent and drooled on it again, then again.
Mom walked on her knees past me. I turned to follow but she stopped, hunched over, knees and calves together. She looked back at me. “Ben,” she whispered. “Yes,” I whispered back. “You have to do this very quietly, understand?” “Yes,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “You’ll have to keep me quiet too, understand?” “Yes.” Now I was really in the dark. Mom turned her face to the ground, reached behind herself with both hands, and pulled her cheeks apart. Ahhhhh, now I understood. Was this what Gwen and Mom had secretly understood? Was there one more statue to make? I crabbed my knees forward, fitting in behind Mom, my cock now rapidly hardening to the consistency of a steel pike. “Spit on it,” Mom’s voice instructed, though I couldn’t see her face. I bent over and spit on my cock. “No, on me.” Oh. I redirected my face and drooled spittle over Mom’s ass where I thought her asshole was. I used my finger to spread it around, searching for the little gateway. My finger slipped right into it. Had Mom prepared for this before she came downstairs? I had seen her anus before and it was a tight little pucker, not partly open like this.
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