Scorn and Reconciliation - Cover

Scorn and Reconciliation

Copyright© 2020 by alwayswantedto

Chapter 3

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 3 - He comes back to a changed mother and pouting father. Trouble in paradise. How will it affect his relationship with his mother?

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Fiction   Cheating   Incest   Mother   Son   Anal Sex   Double Penetration  

Dad was a little groggy the next morning but Mom was bright and cheery. She was wearing a pair of navy blue shorts with a high, hidden-elastic waist. The loose legs were longish, to mid-thigh level, and a little baggy on the legs. But not on the butt. There, the material stretched tightly, clinging to Mom’s slightly sagging, prominent cheeks, making them stand out even more than usual—a treat for male eyes.

Mom’s bare midriff was topped by a short-sleeved, checked shirt tied under her breasts in front. All through breakfast, I couldn’t get the vision of Mom turning, the light behind her creating a silhouette of her breasts capped with jutting nipples perfectly designed for sucking. Of, course I maintained a boner throughout breakfast, my tip tingling with each jarring mouthful of crunchy granola, imagining instead the insertion of a long nipple.

Dad made a haphazard attempt to concentrate on the morning paper. He wasn’t in a good mood.

Mom went out to do her weekly grocery shopping and I tagged along, pushing the cart like I did when I was a kid. Mom appreciated my help and I appreciated her shorts as she wandered from side to side in the aisle in front of me. I was in no hurry and Mom didn’t seem to be either, taking longer than I remembered to decide between different brands of this and that.

I loved it when she read a label. Her head ducked down a bit causing her shoulders to slump which in turn pushed her tits onto her stomach which resulted in a meaty press against her shirt, making her nipples visible underneath. I could see the edge of a light, lacy bra through the gap in the front of her blouse. I liked the way the silky material clung to the round inner side of her breasts. I wondered what it would be like to hold them. Imagining it, I almost knocked an old woman over rounding the corner at the end of the aisle trying to catch up with Mom.

Around the corner, Mom was stretching her head over her shoulder, trying to look at the back of her leg, her hand pulling up the edge of the shorts on her right leg.

“Something wrong,” I asked.

“No,” she replied. “My leg hurt for a minute. I was trying to see if that bruise is still there.”

Before Mom could react, I reached down and pulled the leg of her shorts up.

“Yup, still there,” I confirmed.

“Eric!” Mom pushed my hand away and quickly looked around, looking relieved when she saw we were alone. Her face flushed pink.

At home, I carried the groceries and then helped Mom put everything away. At least, I handed stuff to her. Dad had gone upstairs as soon as we arrived, saying he was going to have a nap and he couldn’t understand why he was so tired.

The last thing put away, Mom said, “I think I’ll have a little lie down too.”

She left the kitchen and I got myself a large glass of milk. As I drank it, I wondered what the evening would bring. Would Mom fondle me again? Would she make me come in her hands? The thought of it made me hard and I had to unzip my shorts to adjust myself. Before I did them up, I wanked myself a few strokes, thinking about Mom’s swaying butt while we were shopping. I resolved to help Mom shop every Saturday.

I rinsed my glass and headed upstairs thinking I may as well browse around the internet or read a book. I was surprised to see Mom lying down on the couch, flat on her stomach. I approached her quietly, not wanting to wake her from her nap.

“Mom,” I whispered.

No answer. I sat on the edge of the couch. It was deep enough to accommodate me beside Mom’s slender form. Tentatively, I lay my hand lightly on the bare part of Mom’s back, below her shirt. She didn’t react so I slowly moved my hand down over the rise of her buttocks, pausing to take the measure of each cheek. Mom stirred. Quickly, I slid my hand down to the back of her legs.

“Wha... ?” Mom queried in a sleep-heavy voice though she had only being lying down for a few minutes.

“I’m just checking your bruise. You said it was sore,” I explained in a hushed voice.

“Oh.” Mom laid her head down on the small pillow that her hands were slipped under. She hadn’t raised her head even an inch.

I played around the bruise on Mom’s right leg, the original one, lifting the leg of her shorts a little to improve my access.

“That feels good,” Mom mumbled. Her legs opened a bit.

I kept circling my finger around her bruise, moving in a wider and wider circle like I had done in the kitchen. I kept it up until Mom’s breathing was deep and even, then I let my fingers stray deep between her legs. I reached high enough inside her shorts to find the passage to the other leg and here, I allowed the backs of my fingers to brush against her panties. Nothing happened for many long seconds and then, her hips lifted almost imperceptibly, pushing the full puffiness of the bottom of her pussy against my knuckles.

Nirvana. I was at the entrance to heaven.

Careful not to move abruptly, I continued in the same timid manner. I let Mom’s lifting, arching hips increase the pressure and then I matched it until we were moving together. My whole being was focused on perfecting that tiny, rubbing motion. She became warmer, and damp. This woman needed to be fucked!

I couldn’t move more within the constraints of Mom’s shorts and, worse, I couldn’t see anything. After a few more minutes, I pulled my hand out of her pantleg to a disappointed sounding sigh from my ‘sleeping’ mother. I put both hands on Mom’s ass, one on each cheek, then slipped them underneath to the front. I fumbled around until I managed to unfasten the waistband. As I tugged her shorts apart, the zipper quietly undid itself. Pulling the shorts around, I dragged them down over Mom’s ass until they were stretched across the back of her thighs. I didn’t have to pull her panties down. They had come along with the shorts.

There it was before me. Mom’s bare ass.

I reached down to fondle a cheek in each hand. Somehow, I knew Mom would remain ‘asleep’. Gently, I caressed her cheeks, squeezing them in my fingers, separating them and sliding my hands together until my thumbs met in a line along her crack. I leaned down and planted a soft kiss on each pearish cheek. Spreading her apart with my thumbs, I stared at her slightly brownish hole, a crinkly little donut, really. I was surprised to find it so clean and before I knew it, I had kissed it.

That brought a quiet “ohhh” from Mom, so I leaned in and did it again, this time flicking my tongue out afterwards for a little lick.

“Mmmmmmm,” was my reward.

I flicked my tongue rapidly side to side, or cheek to cheek, grazing over the outside of her pucker, dragged up in a slow, wet lick, and then pushed the tip inside, the first time my tongue had ever been inside an ass. I was amazed that it didn’t taste awful. It was all right. It was more than all right for Mom because she jerked against my face.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” she sighed.

I sat up and slipped my hand between her legs, palm forward so my fingers could cup her pussy. Mom groaned into the pillow. I dipped a finger inside her wet slit and started to gently frig her cunt, moving my finger back and forth through the little canoe by pivoting on the second knuckle.

The sound of a bedroom door opening upstairs caused me to leap to my feet. I stumbled over the coffee table and when I righted myself, Dad was already at the top of the stairs. I carried on, as if I was going upstairs anyway.

“Uh, hi Dad,” I mumbled as I started up the stairs. “Have a good rest?” Normally, I wouldn’t have said anything, wouldn’t have cared. Dad looked at me oddly and nodded.

We passed and I turned in horror to look over his head, dreading the moment he spied Mom lying on the couch with her pants down, slick and moist between her legs. I was stunned to see Mom lying there, but her shorts were pulled up. Thank god. I must have yanked them up when I stood up, when I first heard Dad. I was dazed and confused. I didn’t remember doing it, but I must have.

I stayed in my room until dinner and then beat it back there as soon as I could. Mom started cleaning up and seemed surprised and not pleased when I didn’t offer to help. I pleaded having an upset stomach and her face softened. It was true. My stomach was full of butterflies.

Man, that had been crazy. What if Mom woke up? Did I really think she would let me finger her just because she and Dad hadn’t shagged for six months? Well, yeah, I rationalized to myself. Dad had told her she really needed it. Maybe she was looking for relief so she could stand her ground with him. She might only be teasing me to satisfy her need to be desired, but last night and this afternoon had proved things could get away from her and I was ready to take advantage.

That night there was no chick flick. Both my parents went to bed early. I overheard Mom suggesting a way for both of them to be relaxed with each other at night until they could get things resolved. Sleeping pills.

“I don’t like taking pills,” Dad countered.

“Neither do I,” Mom replied. “Would you rather stay up all night instead?”

“No.” Long pause. “Are you going to bed like that?”

“Yes. It’s hot, and no, it’s not an invitation.”

“Give me the godamned pill then,” Dad almost yelled.

“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Eric. I don’t want him to know.”

“He knows something’s up. He isn’t stupid.”

“Well, you don’t have to yell.”

“Where are the godamned pills?”

“In the bathroom, same place they were last night.”

I could hear Dad fumbling with the pills, then water running briefly.

“Bring one for me too,” Mom called.

A few minutes later, the lights went out and the night was still. I waited and waited, but Mom didn’t come. Eventually, I realized that she was sleeping, that she must have taken a pill too.

Thoughts of the afternoon flooded through my mind. The picture of her lovely ass, spreading her cheeks and kissing it, licking her little bud, the incredible excitement of her sighs as I dragged my finger through her slit. God. I wanted to do that again.

Why not? She’s right there in the other room. Dead to the world.

No way. She’s lying right next to Dad.

He’s unconscious.

Too risky. If he woke up, I’d be dead.

Do you want to do it? Touch her pussy? Finger her?

Yes. God, yes. I do.

Well?

I can’t. That’s nuts. I’d have to be certifiable.

My muse, my devil, was quiet.

I remembered the pungent smell of her. Her little “ohhhhh”, the way her bum had jerked when I first touched her panties, the wet, slick feel of her cunt.

I was at the door. When had I got out of bed? Go back. Don’t be an idiot.

I was at my parents’ door, traversing the dark hallway with ease. I couldn’t see anything inside but the red dots on the front of Mom’s alarm clock and the faint green outline of the time.

Go back to bed, you moron.

I stepped inside, heart pounding. Slowly, I made my way around to Mom’s side. I stood looking at her as my eyes acclimatized to the darkness. I was comforted by my father’s deep, regular breathing. He was out, for sure. But Mom’s state was harder to determine, partly because of Dad’s noise.

Are you going to bed like that? Dad’s words popped into my mind. I reached down to grasp the sheet and before I knew it, I was peeling it off Mom’s body. She was naked, lying on her tummy, legs slightly parted.

I was done. I knew I was going to touch her. There was no going back now. I stood, breathing rapidly, almost panting. I had to get myself under control. It took me several minutes but I finally managed to do it. Carefully, I kneeled on the bed, easing my weight onto the mattress very slowly. I worked my way between Mom’s legs, urging them further apart to make room for me. I stretched my hand out and touched the back of her thigh.

Nothing. I slid my hand to the side, trailing my fingers over the edge, caressing the inner part of her legs. Nothing. Cautiously, I pushed forward until my fingertips were at the breach, the heavenly gate. I tipped them into her slit. Nothing.

Over the next few minutes, struggling to control myself, I worked a couple of fingers into Mom’s wet pussy. Soon, I was fingering her from behind, trying not to get carried away by the sloshy, squelching sound of my fingers moving inside her.

I wanted to feel her tits but I didn’t want to turn her over in the remote chance she would wake up. Also, I still thought if she did wake up, I could get off the bed and disappear and she might blame Dad, thinking he was taking advantage of her in the night.

I leaned forward and slipped my hands around Mom’s back, squeezing under her chest until my hands slid under her tits. Her nipples were hard and dug into my palms. Gently, then firmly and then hard, I squeezed them in my hands. Mom’s tits. I had my mother’s tits in my hands.

I was leaning on my elbows, just barely keeping my weight off Mom’s back. My chest was brushing lightly across her skin and my shorts were pressed into her soft ass flesh. Bare ass flesh. I realized with a shock that my bare cock was touching Mom’s bare ass. I looked down but it was too dark to see. I still had my shorts on. I could feel the elastic around my waist. My cock had slipped out the front hole in my boxers and was lying on Mom’s ass.

I guess you can imagine how the struggle to put it back in versus rub it along her crack played out? I pushed back and forth in time with the gentle massage of Mom’s tits. God, I wanted to fuck her. This afternoon had showed how much she needed it, and I needed her even more. She felt soooo good.

Oops. I pulled back too far and my cock fell between Mom’s legs. Christ, she was really wet. My cock was nudging at the back of a very slick pussy. A little push forward. Yeah, in her slit. I wished I could. If only I had brought a rubber. Shit. My cock had slipped inside. Just the head. Pull out you asshole. She could get pregnant. Wouldn’t that be hard to explain.

The picture of Mom breast-feeding a baby that somehow possessed my full-grown head made my cock inexplicably stiffen to steel-hard rigidity. I swelled deeper inside her, then, what the hell, I shoved in the rest of the way until I felt my pubic hair plastered against her soft ass. Fuck! I was in her. I was fucking Mom.

A quiet moan made me lift the bulk of my weight off of Mom. Holding myself up on my elbows and toes, I stroked steadily and surprisingly calmly through Mom’s slippery sheath. Just a few more, then I’ll pull out. After another minute of pumping Mom from behind, I promised myself that I would yank out before I unloaded inside her unprotected pussy. Had Mom had her tubes tied? I racked my brain trying to remember if she’d ever mentioned it.

Just a few more seconds now. I can’t spew on the sheet, I’ll never get it cleaned up. Spray on her back, then wash her with a cloth. Yeah, that’s the plan.

Fuck she felt good. I was pushing her ass around and it seemed that, even in her drug-induced slumber, Mom was pushing back to meet me, shoving herself on my cock. Just three more strokes inside her, then I’ll pull out. One. Two.

“Ahhhhhhh, yeahhhhh, ahhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhh.”

Fuck, shit. Stupid cunt. Now what am I going to do?

I had unloaded all my spunk inside Mom. I cursed myself again, but already I was forgiving myself. Mom must have had her tubes tied by now. Man, that was awesome. I didn’t want to leave but I forced myself to get up and I even remembered to pull the sheet up to cover Mom.

An old song played in my head as I cockily strode back to my room. ‘Saturday night is for ... fucking.’


So was Sunday. The day dragged on forever. I maintained a proper relationship with Mom but I couldn’t help hugging her affectionately a few times. She seemed surprised the first time but just pleased after that. As the day wore on, I had several opportunities to view Mom’s wares. As she prepared dinner, she presented her legs by putting her foot up on the side of my thigh, first shaking her shoe off, and asking me what I thought of the new color she was trying on her nails. After dinner, she asked me to help her with the dishes. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her cleavage even though she only had one more button undone than usual.

“Eric?”

“Yes.”

“Your father and I are taking sleeping pills because we’ve been keeping each other awake.”

“You shouldn’t make a habit of that, Mom.”

“I know. It’ll just be for awhile. But we may have trouble waking up early enough for work. Can you make sure we’re up in the morning?”

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