Chapter 22: Keeping It Going

What a weekend!

What a fucking weekend!

When we woke Saturday morning, I could barely keep my eyes open, and Jenna had a hangover banging around her skull that matched the soreness my cock had pounded into her pussy. It turns out that orgasms are the best cure for both ailments, though, to help soothe Jenna’s soreness, I spent the morning caressing her swollen folds with my fingers and tongue, using nothing but the gentlest of caresses on her body.

We barely left my room the entire day, and Jenna stayed upstairs the entire time, only visiting the restroom to clean up while I made the trips downstairs for food and water. Mom and Dad didn’t say much to me—not that I saw them often—and when I did see them, they were always together. My mother surprised me Saturday evening by sending me a text that read, May I fuck your father tonight?

Holy shit, I had thought. Mom actually asked me for permission.

Yes, I sent back before Jenna pulled me back into my bed.

Later that night, I said to Jenna, “Get on your hands and knees and spread your legs wide.”

Jenna did as I instructed, and I grabbed onto her hips and pulled her knees to the end of the bed. Bellow me; her ass cheeks and pussy lay spread open, hanging golden on the outside and pink down the centerline. Her pussy lips formed a beautiful, pale, upside-down butterfly covered in a dewy film.

“How do you feel in this position?” I asked after Jenna shivered while I looked down upon her.

“Vulnerable,” she whispered. “Open. It’s like I have no power. I’m just waiting...”

“Waiting for my cock?” I asked, smiling and dragging my forefinger through the crack of her ass.

“Mm,” Jenna hummed, “yeah.”

“This is the bitch’s position.”

Jenna laughed. “I’m a bitch?”

“A sexy bitch.” I feathered the pink meat of her pussy with my fingertips and wondered if my time with Mom was about to get me into trouble.

“Yeah?” She asked, shaking her ass up and down in a tight, rippling twerk. “You gonna fuck me like a bitch, Daddy?”

I groaned, and after wetting my cock with the lips of Jenna’s dripping cunny, I held her still and slipped my prick into her snatch, giving her the fucking a sexy bitch deserved. Afterward, she said, “Get down like I was.”

“What?” I asked.

“On your knees.” Jenna stood beyond the edge of the bed with her hands behind her back and a smile on her face. She looked sweet and innocent as she batted her eyelashes and swayed her shoulders front to back. “Tell me how it feels to be on all fours.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, sitting up in the center of my bed. “I’m not doing that.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

It took some more convincing and some bratty pouting, but eventually, I found myself on my knees at the edge of my bed with my feet and shins hovering in the air. After several pushes against my spine, I dropped onto my hands, and after several nudges against the insides of my thighs, I spread my knees for her. God damn it, but it felt weird to be in that position.

“How’s it feel?” Jenna asked, putting her hands on my ass cheeks.

“As you said,” I whispered, “vulnerable.” I shivered. “Exposed. Open. Like I’m surrendering myself to you.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jenna whispered. “When I do it, it makes me so wet. Your cock is getting hard again.”

I laughed as my dick turned rigid while hanging below me, the head angled toward the bedspread beneath me. I felt big, with a rubber-like hardness that could yield but not bend.

“Do you like the taste of my asshole?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah.” I licked my lips. “Why?”

“I want to try something that I saw online.” She spoke in a quiet voice, not a whisper, just quiet. “Something dirty.”

A chill ran through me as Jenna slid her hands down my ass and over the backs of my thighs. Her right hand slid to my balls, ringed them, stretched them, which made goosebumps dot my skin, then she continued forward and gripped my cock. Her left hand replaced her right hand on my sack, and a cold ripple of adrenaline resonated through my body. My precum dripped, and Jenna collected it with her fingers and jerked the sticky fluid over my dick.

“I can get on my back and—”

Jenna’s breath warmed my asshole right before the tip of her tongue pressed against the smoothness of my rim. After that, I grabbed onto my bedspread, turned my mind off, and allowed Jenna to take me to new, unimagined heights of pleasure. The one thought I had was: Mom would love doing this to me... if I made her.

Since Sunday was our last day together, we spent the morning fooling around, talking, and eating in my room. We were wondering if we should shower when Mom knocked on my door. I knew it was Mom because while Dad was allowing me to have fun with my fifteen-year-old girlfriend, he didn’t want to come anywhere near us.

“Come in,” I said after Jenna, and I pulled on a pair of shorts, and Jenna pulled a blanket over her breasts.

My door opened enough for Mom to stick her head in. She looked around, inhaled deeply, and said, “Open your windows and let the air conditioner, or a fan, run through here.” She shook her head, and her gaze shifted from me to Jenna and back to me. “I’m going to spend my day getting ahead of next week’s workload.” She gave me a serious look. “But I want you two to take a shower. It smells like”—her stare slid from me and focused on Jenna— “pussy in here.” Mom pulled her head from the room and shut the door.

“God,” Jenna said, her cheeks turning pink and getting rosier by the second. “Why does your mom have to be so blunt? Does she hate me now?”

I shook my head and crawled onto my bed, pushing down my shorts. “She’ll never hate you,” I said. “But you’re another woman having sex in her home. Imagine how that feels?”

Jenna shrugged, then she frowned and said, “Oh, no ... What do you think my dad’s going to say when we fuck at my house?”

“I don’t care what he says,” I said, sighing and pulling the blanket from Jenna’s body. “Mom wants us to shower, but I think that we can get a little dirtier before we do, don’t you?”

“Your Mom,” Jenna said. “She’s not my mom.”

“But if she were, I’d fuck you anyway.”

“Ooh,” Jenna hummed, puckering her lips and narrowing her eyes. “You’re nasty.”

We spent the last hour before she had to go home making slow, passionate love. We didn’t rush. We didn’t experiment. We didn’t see what felt good. We shut our mouths, ended the dirty talk, and I stroked her pussy channel with long thrusts, using my entire cock to massage her insides. Jenna came several times, her last orgasm shaking her body as I shot the last of my load into her pussy. We had five minutes to spare by the time we had finished coming.

Six o’clock came, and Mom knocked on my door as Jenna’s phone rang. Her dad was on the other end of that call. She showered by herself, and I followed, then I walked her to her house next door. We kissed before she went inside, and I went back home to rest, but mentally, I prepared myself to fool around with Mom should the moment come. But the moment didn’t come. Mom went to bed with Dad even though he had taken his sleeping pill early in the night. I thought about texting my mother, and I thought about getting her and dragging her to my room, but in the end, I decided that I’d rest for the night and see her in the morning. We had agreed that our affair would go on, hadn’t we?

My mind spun as I fell asleep. My mother was no virgin. My mother was looking for casual sex with someone she loved. My mother wanted adventure and everything that she wasn’t getting from Dad. Mom wants you to make her do things. That was my last thought before I fell asleep. When I woke, my first thought was, All right, Mom, I’m going to make you do things today—naughty things.

It took me several minutes to decide if I wanted to go downstairs naked or clothed. That was a hard choice, but I stripped down to nothing, took a soapy shower, dried myself, and I didn’t put anything on as I headed downstairs. It was past eight in the morning, and I had heard the soft rumble of the garage door opening and closing, so I knew my father had left for work.

Would Mom be naked?

I hoped so.

Had Jenna’s visit hurt feelings?

I hoped not, but I mean, I think I knew ... it must have.

Did Mom remember our drunken fuck on the couch after I had taken Jenna’s virginity? My shoulders tightened, and my heart sped up as I headed downstairs, taking each step one at a time and using slow, heavy movements. Please, Mom, I thought, no drama.

Mom wasn’t in the living room, so I turned right at the stairs, swung around one-hundred and eighty degrees, and walked straight to the kitchen through the shortcut hallway. My cock, hanging heavy on my sack, thickened with each step. I took a deep breath as my heartbeat swelled. What kinds of thoughts were running through my mother’s head?

I stepped into the kitchen and walked straight to the marble island. Mom sat at the breakfast table as she always did in the mornings, reading the paper as the sun shined through windows and sprinkled her in brightness. She looked clean—angelic—her skin glowed, and the color of her makeup held a subtle, yet vibrant, beauty. She had done her hair up in a bun again, but with long strands hanging down her back. They looked unintentional but were too stylish not to be on purpose. An off-the-shoulder satin crop top covered her body, stopping just below her breasts, and a small pair of tight, satin boyshorts hugged her lower body.

I took a deep breath and asked, “Did you remember not to wear your panties?”

The right side of Mom’s lips twitched, pulling into a smile that she quickly hid. She ruffled her paper, set it down, and turned toward me. Mom scooted her butt to the edge of her seat and spread her knees wide. With her left hand, she reached down to the right side of her crotch, curled her fingers into the leghole, and pulled the fabric to the left. The sun-golden meat of her pussy came into view, her folds pressed together, looking thick and tasty and making my cock go fully hard between one moment and the next.

“Good,” I said.

Mom fixed her shorts. “Now that you have your teen pussy to play with, I guess you don’t need to make me do anything anymore.”

I hoped this was a game.

“That’s not true.”

“How so?”

“I only get Jenna from Friday evening to Sunday evening,” I said. “If I try to touch her any time before or after, her dad might decide to press charges against me.”

“Maybe.”

“And,” I said, “there are things that I can make you do that Jenna won’t do.”

“Dirty things?” Mom asked, dropping her chin and giving me a big, doe-eyed pout.

“Too dirty for a teenager.”

“Like what?”

“Come over here; I’ll show you.”

Mom stood and walked toward me, her body taller but smaller than Jenna’s. She had more grace and less bounce—less shape—though my cock throbbed just as hard for her body as it had for Jenna’s. An ache pulsed through my balls, and the image of my testicles filling with cum shot through my mind. Cum for my mother, I thought, and she was going to get every sticky drop of it.

My hands came up as Mom reached me. I put my right hand behind her neck, and my left hand found her side and slipped around and down, pushing beneath her satin shorts and riding the crack of her ass to the cleft between her thighs. Mom gasped as I cupped her soft pussy from behind, finding her clam damp and the slot between her lips sticky with dew.

“You’re already ready for me,” I whispered, looking into Mom’s eyes as the underside of my cock settled against her stomach.

“Like a good bitch,” Mom whispered. Her eyes searched mine. “Am I good bitch for you?”

“The best,” I said, my words coming out with a groan as I pressed my lips to my mother’s. Our mouths melded together, sliding and turning, then our tongues slipped forward and touched. Wetness greeted me as I pushed my tongue into my mom’s mouth.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Mom moaned as I sawed my fingers through her pussy lips. She grunted and rose to her toes as I hooked my middle and ring fingers into her snatch and pulled her upward. After several minutes of pussy stroking, I lifted her into the air, my fingers still inside her. Mom spread her legs, circling them around my waist and trapping my cock between her pussy and my stomach. She locked her ankles together, and my fingers stayed buried in her muff, only deeper than before, her wet folds turning mushy beneath my touch.

“Like that, bitch?” I asked, my lips moving against hers as the underside of my shaft pressed against her clit.

“Yeah,” Mom moaned, her face trembling as I massaged her insides with my digits. “What things are you gonna make me do, baby?” Mom bit her lower lip as she ground her clit against my cock with side-to-side hip motions as I stroked her from behind. “Dirty things? Nasty things? Naughty things?”

“Very,” I whispered, licking a vertical line across her lips. “Come on.”

I carried Mom out of the kitchen and through the living, putting her on our couch. I curled my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and tugged them from her body, the effort pulling her legs straight into the air. Mom crossed her arms and took hold of her shirt’s hem, taking it off as her small feet fell to the floor. She tossed the shirt over the back of the couch and looked up at me with a wild smile on her face and a playful light in her eyes.

“I want you to eat my asshole.” My heartbeat rose, knocking against the underside of my chest with a beat that sent chills throughout my body. “Jenna did it yesterday.”

“The little bitch,” Mom whispered.

“It felt great,” I said, “but there was a lot of laughter involved. She’s too young to take it seriously.”

“I can do better, baby,” Mom said, scooting to the edge of the couch. “I promise.”

Jesus, I thought. Mom loves this. How had she kept this side of her suppressed for so many years?

“Show me,” I said.

“Sit down, baby,” Mom said, sliding off the couch onto her knees.

I sat, and Mom placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed. I sank back. She grabbed me behind my knees and pulled, and I slid my butt toward the edge of the couch. She urged my legs up, and I lifted them. A strange sensation passed through—this position was weird—and a light, hollow buzz swam through my limbs, making them want to shake. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing as I held my legs up, back, and wide, giving my mother’s mouth access to my cock, balls, and asshole.

I’m not going to do this position often, I thought as Mom’s tongue pressed against the bottom of my scrotum and licked upward. I moaned as my face twitched with pleasure. Mom’s tongue traveled up my sack, around it, then up it again, not stopping until she rolled her mouth over my glans and took my mushroom tip into the warmth of her mouth.

“Oh, shit,” I moaned.

“Mmm,” Mom answered with a thick and wet accent.

I kept my eyes closed and my legs up, thinking, Pornstars do this all the time; it’s no big deal! Meanwhile, moans left my lips as my mother covered my cock and balls in her drool and jerked me off at the same time. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere, on my cock, on my balls, the inside of my thighs and lower, finding my asshole and taking my rim for a ride as she jerked off my wet prick. She used a featherlike touch on my backdoor, then wiggled her lingual muscle against my asshole, then feathered me again—her intensity bringing tingles to my skin. The tip of my dick started to itch with the need to come.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned.

“Yeah, baby,” Mom whispered, her lips never leaving my skin. “You’re making Mommy do dirty things, baby. Making me lick your ass like this...” And she licked my ass, my toes curling, and my fingertips digging into my skin. “What would your father think?”

I gasped.

Mom never tried to replace her finger with her tongue—I would have freaked out—and her tongue proved to be more than enough to get my pulse racing. My balls tightened within minutes, and that swirling itch of pleasure continued to dance atop the tip of my prick. I wanted to grab my knob and squeeze. Mom jerked me faster as my cock swelled, and her other hand rose to massage my balls in a caress that made me whimper.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I moaned, my voice trembling and the darkness behind my eyelids exploding with color. I dug my fingertips into the backs of my knees. “Mom, fuck. I’m gonna come hard, Mom. Fuck, Mom. Fuck-fuck-fuck—Mom!”

“Umm,” Mom uttered as she took the head of my cock between her lips and sealed them shut. She never stopped jerking me off or rolling my balls within her fingers. I came, the cum within me seemed to explode from my tip, and Mom sucked it down, drinking it fast and quick. The sounds of her throat gulping down my jizz filled my ears.

I released my legs as my body turned to liquid. Only my orgasm remained, and it continued until I had no pleasure left within my body to give, leaving me an empty husk that could only tremble. As I lay panting and trying to regain my breath, I opened my eyes. Mom had stood, and she was smiling down at me as burning embers backlit the green of her eyes.

“I didn’t just get ahead of my work yesterday,” Mom whispered with a hungry tremor. “I finished today’s work completely.” She turned and started to walk away. “I’ll be upstairs. Your room or mine?”

“Mine,” I said as my pulse slowed and my breathing calmed. “Always mine during the day, where you belong.”

Mom uttered a throaty, excited laugh and went upstairs. I sat on the couch, thinking about what naughty, nasty, and kinky things I should make my mother do next.

I didn’t have many options when it came to getting kinkier with my mother. I didn’t own any toys, straps, restraints, plugs, or dildos—dildos! I went upstairs, turning to the right and walking to my mother’s room as my cock stayed semi-hard against my sack. Inside, I looked in her bedside drawer, where her dildo lay next to a palm-sized bottle of lube. I grabbed them. Before leaving her room, I stopped and looked at my parents’ bed and their bedside drawers.

So much trust between my parents, I thought. As the words lingered in my mind, a chill ran down my spine. Did I count as a betrayal? No. A mother can’t cheat on her husband with her son, right? Yeah, right.

I turned and left the room. Whether it was a betrayal or not, I wasn’t going to stop, and if one day I discovered my own son fucking his mother or even my mother, I’d say, “Way to go, son. Way to go.”

“What the hell is wrong with me,” I said as I reached my bedroom.

Mom hadn’t closed the door. She was on my bed, near the edge, standing on her knees with her hair atop her head, held by two braids that seemed to have no end as they swam through her sunlight hair. How long had I been downstairs? She had grabbed two of my belts. One lay crosswise on the bed in front of her knees. She had folded the body over itself the way a pissed-off father might before he threatened to spank his daughter, and the other she had wrapped around her neck like a leash, the long end pulled forward and hanging over her left shoulder.

“Well,” Mom whispered, looking at the dildo in my hand. “What have you come here to make your mother do now?”

I sighed as I dropped my eyes between my mother’s legs. She was standing with her knees spread, and the point of her blonde pussy glistened, ending in a wet, pink line that the sunlight pouring through my bedroom windows lit from behind.

“Everything,” I said and walked forward with my heart thumping and my cock swelling.

Our mouths met, our tongues danced, and I dropped onto the comforter in front of the belt laid out in front of my mother’s knees. My right hand grabbed onto Mom’s makeshift leash and pulled, not hard, but Mom reacted as if I had.

“Uh,” she groaned, tilting her head back and arching her spine as she pushed her hips forward. I pressed my lips harder against hers, and I brought my left hand forward, cupping her silky pussy and pushing my middle finger into the dewy slickness between her cunny lips.

“Have you been a bad girl, Mom?” I asked, the words pouring out of me with no thought behind them. “Has my mother been bad?”

“Yes,” Mom whispered, nodding her head and looking up at me. Her eyes looked big and glazed, as though she were drunk, and her movements had a slow sensuality that reminded me of walking in a dream. “I have.”

My cock rose from my sack, turning rock-hard and pushing into my mother’s stomach. Mom’s hands came up, grabbing my shaft, one atop the other, and she started a double-fisted jerk over my cock. I looked down, moaning, and so did she, opening her mouth. Her spit landed atop my knob a second later, and her hands rolled over it, pulling the saliva down my shaft toward my balls. Mom jerked me fast and hard, producing sticky-wet music as she drooled more of her spit over my prick.

“Ah, you fucking bitch,” I moaned.

“Yeah,” Mom said in a rough voice. “I’m a dirty, naughty bitch who needs a spanking.”

I laughed, thinking, I was getting to that! But what I said was, “You’ve needed a spanking for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Too long, baby.” Mom’s words trembled. “It’s been at least eighteen fucking years since your father last hit me.”

“Hit?”

“Spanked,” Mom whispered, “but it sounds so fucking hot to say ‘hit.’”

I nodded my head as I slid a second finger into my mother’s slippery muff. She was so soft and warm on the inside, and the deeper I went, the slicker and hotter her insides grew. There was another world within my mother’s pussy, made of tenderness and gooiness and elastic softness that made me tingle down to my very soul.

“Get on all fours,” I ordered in a harsh whisper.

Mom pouted, but she let go of my cock and turned to her left, dropping down onto her hands in front of me. I pulled her leash, first to my right, then forward and away from me, having to stretch my arm and lean my upper body over my mother. The belt loop tugged on her neck, and she turned away from me, crawling around and forward until she had presented me with her little feet, her sexy pussy, and her small ass.

I dropped to my knees, my instincts taking over. Mom’s small feet seemed spotless. My mouth descended, my tongue came out, and I watched—a silent observer—as I placed the tip against the sole of Mom’s foot and licked upward.

“Ooh,” Mom gasped, her words light, airy, and trembling.

I licked her foot again, concentrating on the center, and Mom’s entire body trembled. I grabbed her foot, lifting it, her knee bending, and I took several of her toes into my mouth. (Thank god Mom kept her floors in pristine condition.)

“Shit,” Mom hissed. “Oh, baby, no, they’re so sensitive—oh my god!”