Despite His Reluctance
Chapter 2: Mitchell

Copyright© 2015 by maryjane

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2: Mitchell - Mitchell and Charleen are teenaged lovers. Donna, his mother, is frustrated because her husband cannot get it up anymore. Despite his reluctance, Mitch helps her out. Charleen's step-dad Jesse misses her mom so much that he does not want to get it up anymore. Despite his reluctance, Charleen convinces him otherwise. What the heck, you don't even need to read the story to know how it ends.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Incest   Mother   Son   Father   Daughter   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Teacher/Student  

"Mitchell?"

"Hi, Mom. How's Dad?"

"He told me last night to get a boyfriend who can fuck me properly. Any suggestions?"

"Did you tell him that you took that advice two years ago?"

"Get your ass over here right now!"

How could I possibly refuse that offer?

I took local streets to get to their house, eschewing the toll road that would have gotten me there ten minutes earlier. I wanted to review the entire history of my love affair with my Mom, as well as my ever growing seriousness with my girlfriend Charleen. As much as I loved the idea of getting off in Mom's bed, in Mom's body, I did not want to cheat on Charleen – not too much anyway – nor did I want to risk injury to my parents' marriage just because Dad's dick had dried up and died.

I had come home one night, two years earlier, before getting my own apartment with Charleen, to find Mom sitting at the kitchen table. It turned out that she had been crying all day. She stood up when she saw me and fell into my arms. Her babbling was incoherent, and all that I could manage to absorb were the words 'daddy' and 'dead'. My hands let go of her and I fell down, hit a chair and then hit the floor. Mom hit the floor directly. As I looked at her, she began to laugh, and as I gathered my strength to scream at her, it slowly dawned on me that I had also heard the word 'cock'. In the middle of my sobbing, I too suddenly began to laugh. To laugh at my mistake, to laugh at the silly sight of the two of us sitting on the floor.

We stood up, still giggling, and began to hug. Though I was wearing slacks, I could feel the wetness of Mom's pussy against my leg. My leg pulled back, instinctively, to hide the growing piece of meat which always reacted that way in the presence of a beautiful woman. For surely Mom is beautiful, always has been, ever since the day that I became able to differentiate the various reactions that a face gives to my brain.

But, from what I read on this website –though I don't really believe it – I was different from most boys. I have never lusted after Mom, never searched through a laundry hamper looking for damp panties to sniff or to use in lieu of a tissue for masturbation. Never did I sneak through her lingerie drawer to feel the soft garments that had covered her skin. Never once did I even think of trying to catch a glimpse of her naked body in the shower, water shining off her body. When I masturbated, it was never with my mother in my brain. As it should be, my fantasies were of women in string bikinis or bent over on hands and knees in some porn flick, offering her two nether openings to a cock twice the size of mine.

She was my mother, for heaven's sake, and mothers are off limits. I had done a satisfactory amount of fucking by the time I graduated high school, but never desired to prong the mothers of any of my friends, not even the mothers who looked like sluts. Jeez, the idea of fucking my mother, or even peeking up her dress, was as foreign, as evil, as the idea of fucking a nun!

So even as I pulled back my leg from the unexpected arousal of Mom's wetness, I also pulled my chest back from her surprisingly sharp nipples. I mean, I had grown very accustomed to and desirous of sharp nips, but I've never been into cheap feels. Only Mom was not treating all this as cheap feels. She pulled my back toward her boobs and with her other hand on my ass, pulled my groin against hers.

"Make love to me, Mitch. I need it, I need it badly."

Shit, no girl or woman had ever thrown herself at me like that. My cock liked the idea, and was sending urgent messages to my brain. I had just come home from fucking Charleen twice, cunt and mouth – no, we hadn't gotten around yet to calling it 'making love'. But at my age, my balls refilled themselves rather quickly, hence the urgent messages. And I did believe that Mom really did 'need it'. From the amount of noise that I regularly heard coming from the master bedroom, I knew that my parents had rabbit blood in their veins. Except, except...

"I can't, Mom."

"Why not, Mitch? Did Charleen suck all the cum out of your pecker?"

"Jeez Mom, I never heard you talk like that before."

"So what? Don't try to tell me that you're a virgin."

"I just can't, Mom."

"So fuck your old lady, dammit. I need cock tonight." I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"I understand, Mitchell. We trained you to be too much of a gentleman. You think that fucking your mother makes you into a mother-fucker. But they mean two different things. All right, at least let me sleep in your bed tonight. I need a warm body."

 
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