Chapter 4

I imagined this would only be a one off story and not a continuing series. But, due to popular demand, I wrote a sequel. And, now, a sequel to the sequel of the sequel. We moved past the Halloween theme in the first sequel and continuing in a new, to me, direction in this one. I believe this will be the final chapter in the series.

Since this is my fantasy, in the world of my creation there are no STD’s or unwanted pregnancies. Also, we can assume all my characters enjoy good hygiene and shower regularly even if not mentioned.

Please enjoy.

“Hector, tell me truthfully, have you enjoyed what we have been doing? Truly?”

“Mom, I could not have ever imagined anything better than doing what we have been doing.”

“You wouldn’t want to stop, would you, Hec?” she asked me.

“Not in a million years, Mom, I love being here with you like this.”

“You’re a good looking young man, my son, you could be with anyone you want...”

“I want to be with my Wonder Woman, Mom,” I declared.

“Is there anything more you would wish for, Hector?”

“Yeah,” I said, pausing for a moment. “I wish my Wonder Woman would stop wasting time and suck my cock.”

Things around the house had settled into a routine. Mom would wake me in the morning with a cup of coffee and a blowjob. My breakfast would consist of whatever Mom made me to eat with some pussy for dessert. After school, my mother was my snack. Sometimes I ate my snack, other times I would fuck it. Generally, we would find time during the evening to do something more.

I have to tell you: although I was living the teenager’s dream life, having sex with his own MILF of a mother repeated times throughout the day, I was exhausted. My cock was sore much of the time, rubbed raw as it was. But, Mom was insatiable. She refused to cut back our activities at all. If left to her, she would increase the frequency of our sexual escapades.

At this point in time, I don’t know if the old man, my mother’s alcoholic husband and my father, knew that Mom and I were playing games or not. Sometimes, we would get playful when he was around and could easily have seen us if he were sober enough to open his eyes.

Mom just didn’t give a shit if he knew or not, it seemed. Her play and her teasing of me was getting quite brazen. I don’t know how much I cared about his discovering us either. Not really.

It was a Saturday that events took an odd turn. The old man had gone out golfing that morning, with an early tee time. He spent some time, a lot of it I guess, at the nineteenth hole after completing the round. It was mid afternoon before he made it back to the house in his normal condition, he was soused.

As was his custom, he went upstairs to his bed before passing out. When I came home from shooting hoops with some of the guys at a neighbourhood park, I found Mom in the family room with a glass of wine in her hand and an open bottle at her elbow.

This was extremely out of character for her. My mother was not a drinker. I don’t think she had ever been one but certainly wasn’t now seeing the effects of alcohol on our family. Yet the wine bottle was probably two thirds empty.

Mom was somewhat giggly and playful as I sat beside her on the couch. She had some chick flick from the Lifetime channel on the TV. We watched for a while, comfortably snuggling together.

I was in the corner of the couch lying back with Mom lying against me on her back. My mother’s big tits were so very close to me that I couldn’t deny the urge to fondle them, to play with them.

I pulled her top up so that I would have free access to her beautiful C cups. My mother didn’t wear a bra around the house much these days unless it was part of a set of lingerie. T-shirt raised and braless, I played with those tits somewhat absentmindedly while watching the movie.

Reaching down, I cupped her boobs and bounced them a bit. I squeezed and released her tits, squeezed and released them over and over. I particularly liked pinching her nipples and using them to pull Mom’s tits up and away from her body. My mother had confessed to me one time or another that although this particular nipple play caused her some pain, it turned her on far more than it hurt her.

Between the TV movie and the titty play, neither of us noticed that the old man had come downstairs. It was only the closing of the refrigerator door that announced his presence. He came around the breakfast bar to sit in his customary lazeeboy chair. He turned his bleary eyes towards us, asking what we were watching.

By this time, of course, Mom had pulled her top back in place while my hands were on my mother’s shoulders. My father grimaced and took a healthy swig of his beer when Mom told him what we were watching. He seemed to settle in to watch along with us but I assumed it was more a matter of him getting close to passing out again.

To my surprise, the movie was getting better, and I continued to lie on the couch watching. Mom bent her arms, putting her hands on mine. At some point, my mother tugged my hands down from her shoulders and back to her tits.

My father adjusted his position between snores. His face was no longer aimed towards the TV. His closed eyes were facing my mother and me.

When he first moved, I froze, poised to jerk my hands off my mother’s tits. Mom’s grip on my hands intensified, holding them in place, moulded to her breasts. With no reaction from my father, I returned to playing with my mother’s boobs.

At one point, I leaned down to give Mom a hickey making, sucking kiss on her neck. Mom approved of me putting my mark, my brand on her. She moaned that approval.

Mom decided we needed to get back to where we were before my father interrupted us. Once again, she tugged her T-shirt up, freeing her massive tits for my hands. And, once again, I took full advantage of the free access.

We finished watching the movie, mother and son, cuddled up on the couch, indulging in breast play. While the final credits were rolling across the screen, Mom announced she needed to use the washroom. As she was extricating herself from my paws on her chest, I glanced towards my father.

His eyes were open. He was looking at us. But, I don’t know if he was awake enough or sober enough to know what his wife and son had been doing. I don’t know how long he had been looking at us if that was indeed what he had been doing. I couldn’t remember when I had last heard him snoring.

I looked towards Mom and then back again. His eyes were closed once more. I let out a huge sigh of relief before relaxing against the couch once more.

It wasn’t long before Mom returned from the bathroom. She lay her body down on the couch with her head in my lap. The next movie had already started but it wasn’t catching my attention the way Mom was. She was nuzzling my dick through my sweat pants and even rubbing my nuts.

Within moments of her return, I was sporting a growing hard on. I had my hands on her head encouraging her to play with my dick. My mother really didn’t need much encouragement at the worst of times.

I glanced over at my father again. I had to turn my head in order to see him. I wasn’t sure but it was possible he was just closing his eyes when he entered my field of vision. He was still facing us from his chair but he wasn’t snoring at all. That was odd. By all other indications though, he was asleep.

He had to be asleep. It really wasn’t possible that he could be watching us. Not without yelling or screaming or something. If he knew what we were up to, if he saw his wife and son playing sexual games with each other, he would have to be showing some sort of reaction. Some anger. Wouldn’t he?

Mom drew my attention back to her. She accomplished that by her hands free action on my dick. My mother grabbed my cock through my sweats with her teeth. She was clamping down on my dick, releasing it, and moving further down to begin the process anew.

She couldn’t hold my attention though despite the overwhelmingly erotic play with my dick. I had been a big talker before this, not caring whether my father knew what we were doing or not, but I couldn’t stop looking over to see if he was watching.

I saw his eyelids fluttering, then he sort of squeezed them tightly shut. There was still no snoring. He had to be awake. Had to be. I couldn’t continue like this. Even with Mom’s best efforts, my dick began to wilt. I pushed her aside, swung my legs down, and raced to my bedroom.

Mom followed me to my room wondering why I had run off so quickly. She didn’t bother to knock on my door, just walking right in.

“Hec, what’s wrong? Did I hurt your cock? Want me to kiss and make it better?”

“No,” I responded somewhat curtly.

Lying on my bed, Mom joined me, lying on her side facing me with an arm across my chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Hec. Why did you up and leave like that?” asked my mother.

“It was my father. He was watching us,” I stated.

“No, Hec, he was passed out. Like usual,” she responded.

“Mom, I don’t think so. His eyes kept fluttering closed whenever I looked in his direction.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Hec. He was passed out.”

“He wasn’t even snoring. He always snores.”

“Hec, even if he was awake and watching us, it’s like I told you before, he just doesn’t care.”

“How can he not care if you are playing with someone else’s cock?”

“He would be happy I wasn’t bothering him for sex. And especially that I’m not getting it from somewhere else.”

My mother’s hand drifted down to my cock, just resting on it.

“Who would be the best choice for me to have sex with if not our own son?” she asked while squeezing my cock.

Before I could come up with any kind of answer, there was the sound of a crash from the area of the kitchen. Soon after it was followed by my father yelling for my mother.

Giving me a quick kiss on the lips, Mom went to help him with whatever he broke this time. I remained in my bed contemplating the happenings between my mother and me.

Being with my mother was wonderful. Her blowjobs were extraordinary. I couldn’t imagine there being a better cocksucker in my life than my own mother. I just couldn’t. Nor did I wish to try.

But, I was definitely concerned about my father catching us. He did catch us though. Didn’t he? Or didn’t he? I just didn’t know. What’s the saying? Time will tell the tail? Oh yeah, tale.

When called down for dinner some time later, I saw that it was going to be just my mother and I at the table. My father was still in the family room with his snoring competing with the TV for the highest volume award. The old man had the competition hands down.

It was a quiet meal. Mom and I sat kitty corner from each other at the table focused on our meals for the most part. Mom had changed clothes again. She was wearing a peasant blouse with the puffy sleeves and square cut across the tops of her breasts. I assumed she was wearing a bra. Her skirt was long and flouncy, hanging to about knee level. And, as always, thigh high stockings with four inch heels.

I wanted to stay focused on my meal. I really did. Especially with my father in the other room. Yet, Mom was just too fucking hot to ignore. Mom’s foot moved over to mine and began sliding up and down mine. I couldn’t help but look at her leg snuggled up close to mine.

Her heel was resting on her stiletto, sort of cocking it up on an angle allowing her toes to swivel up against my foot and ankle. My eyes wandered up her leg, admiring the sheen of the deflected light on her stockings. I kept traveling up her leg, realizing that Mom had hiked her skirt up to her hips.

Once my eyes passed the elastic holding her hose in place, I saw that the only covering past that point was the wetness from her pussy Mom had spread with her fingers. Up til then, I had not even noticed that she had a hand under the table.

Once again, my father be damned, I was lost in my mother’s sexy body. There was no trying on my part to remove my admiring glance from Mom’s sexy pussy. The hard part was restraining myself from diving into her cunt face first. I gave up on eating my dinner, dropping my fork with a clang, since what was on my plate couldn’t taste any better than the fluids leaking from my mother.

Mom just smirked at me while she pushed her chair away from the table. She lifted one stockinged leg up on to the table, using it to push our plates away. She added to the extreme eroticism of the moment by pulling her peasant blouse down, freeing her tits.

Although her tits were tremendously alluring, I wanted to eat. I virtually flung myself on my knees between Mom’s spread legs. Using the fingers on one hand, Mom had her labia spread open for me. The bright pinkness of her pussy, shining due to the kitchen light, demanded my immediate attention. So did my own hunger for my mother.

Not wasting any time, my tongue was licking her juice covered pussy from bottom to top and down again. Her taste was better than any fine wine could ever be. Obviously, her little man was standing full and proud, shed of its restraining hood. I put my teeth around it, nipping ever so gently on her clit.

Mom was oohing and aahing, moaning and groaning, at the effects my tongue was having on her. Mom’s hands were on my head, holding me flush against her pussy. Her grip was so tight on my head, I thought she might pop me like a zit.

Just as I was moving my hand towards her pussy, my father groaned. We heard the leg rest of his chair bang down. In a second or two, I was back in my chair at the kitchen table, pulling my plate towards me. Mom still sat with her back angled towards her husband but with her skirt down again and her tits properly covered.

I was wondering when I stopped noticing his snoring. Did it stop or did I just dismiss the noise? I couldn’t put a time to it but I’m sure he had stopped his snoring a few minutes earlier.

My father sort of stumbled towards the back of the island separating the two rooms. He was giving us an odd look as he fought to focus his bleary eyes.

“What are you two doing?” he demanded to know.

“Eating dinner, of course, do you want something to eat?” Mom asked.

“No!” he responded while looking us both up and down as much as he could through his bloodshot eyes and with our bodies mostly covered by the kitchen table.

“You two were up to something!” he declared. “I don’t know what but it didn’t sound like you were eating.”

“Honey, we were just eating our dinner,” stated Mom in a calming voice. “Do you want some dinner?”