Ian Stuart: Home-Made Loving

His hand was beating slowly but steadily, his cock growing harder and thicker at the same time. Her cunt was leaking clear fluid, her juices flowing as she dreamed of some sexual activity. One of her hands ran slowly down her body and came to rest at her clit, and delicately her forefinger and thumb began to rotate the little bud. He watched it grow and then harden under her fingertips caressing it, and then she began to hunch, gasping a little in her light slumber as she reached toward a small, sweet, dream-induced climax. He was about to come. Looking down he saw her panties and, seizing them, he wrapped them about his huge cock and began to beat again, the purple knob streaming clear sticky liquid out of the little slit on the point. He gasped and began to hunch into his fist. Then he came! He threw back his head, almost agonizing in the pleasure of it. Through slitted eyes he watched his mother's cunt quaking as she came again and again in her dream. She pulled up her legs and held them wide apart, as her hand reached deeply into her cunt and began to move in and out of the juicy hole. His sperm gouted out of his cock into the panties, filling them with the steaming semen. Finally it ceased flowing and he relaxed. Wiping himself and milking down to get all of the cum out of his cock, he tossed the panties to the floor where he had found them and then backed slowly and carefully out of the room. Mara raised up and looked at the door when she heard the latch dick. She hadn't been sleeping at all, but had heard the weak board in the floor beside the door creak as he entered the room, awaking her from her light doze. She had wondered what he would do and decided to fake sleep.

Through slitted eyes, the gleam of her eyes masked by her long lashes, she had thrilled again at the sight of his slowly gathering and growing hard-on, even though he had just finished jerking off. She had seen him cum all over the shaving mirror. Her heart had beat fast and hard as she watched it thicken and lengthen until she was now sure that her son had a thicker and longer cock than his father had ever had. It was white, with blue veins running underneath the skin; the knob was heart-shaped and huge, nearly big enough to fill a teacup. As his cock hardened and lengthened, the prepuce slowly slid back the shaft, unfolding down over the rim of his cockhead, until the entire knob was free and clear. As she watched him jerking off, his fist moving faster and faster, making his balls bounce against his nearly hairless thighs, she nearly gave her awakened state away by sprawling and opening her arms to him, taking him to her and fucking him until that hot sticky cum spurted deep inside her yearning cunt. But she had continued to fake sleep and had merely opened her legs wider so he could get a good look at her pink-lipped, juice-emitting cunt.

She had gasped lightly as he did, as he raised upon his tiptoes and wrapped her panties about his swollen rod and then groaned as his semen spurted again and again into the nylon cloth. She nearly fainted as she came lightly, three times, one right after the other, merely from watching him and delving upon her innermost feelings. Once the head of his cock jerked free from the cloth and a slug of his cum missed the panties and leaped across the space, landing upon her thigh. He never noticed, and when he was gone she slowly and carefully wiped it upon her fingers and then into her mouth, tasting it tenderly, savoring the sea-salt taste, the aftermath of passion-aroused maleness. When he had gone long enough, she rose and dressed, used the bathroom, pissing a hard, amber stream, making it splash and resound in the bowl. She knew he could hear her, for his room was through the wall, and she could often hear him moving around in his room while she was brushing her teeth, sitting on the stool, or dressing. Then she went to the kitchen and soon had a plate of eggs and bacon waiting for him and called him to breakfast. “Hi, Mom.” He came into the breakfast nook and seated himself at the table.

“Morning, son. Did you have a good night's sleep?” “Sure did, Mom.” He attacked the eggs with gusto befitting a growing boy-and he was more than a boy, she knew now, having seen the fullness of his manhood thrust out before him in his curled fist. She ached to take it in her own hand, but she knew this was wrong and it would undoubtedly frighten him. No, she had no incestuous thoughts toward her handsome young son, she told herself, while her nipples hardened as she recalled the bulging sac of his balls and the high spurt of his creamy cum as she had watched him jack off. And deep inside her cunt the juices started flowing again until she felt the crotch of her panties soaking wet. Thirty minutes later she watched him as he raced down to the island shore, clad only in his skimpy swimming trunks. His hefty bulge showed strongly, and she was aroused again as she became aware of its hugeness. She needed to be filled. She was a small woman, but her body structure was such that she was able to take a large cock with ease. Long or short, she had always been able to absorb them. One time, she loved to recall, a teacher kept her after school and showed her a huge erection, at least nine inches long, and bet her she wouldn't let him put the great, pulsing head of it into her cunt. He had fingered her before and knew that she had fucked many times. In the dimly lighted schoolroom, she had lowered herself into his lap, placed the huge knob between the slickened lips of her cunt, and settled slowly upon him, spreading easily to him, until she had all of him thrust deeply inside her hot, quaking cunt. He had come then and spurted his thick semen deep into her body, loving her as she had never been loved to that tune. Since then she knew she was built to take big cocks. Morning chores did not take long. She finished them and took a long, cool bath, then donned her most brief bikini and went to the patio to sun. She could hear Tim down at the lakeshore humming to himself. Rising once, she looked and saw him busy gathering boards. He had a hammer and some nails. He was at the eternal task of the boy near water, building his own raft to sail away to unknown adventures around the next bend. That he had a perfectly good canoe, a small flat-bottomed boat with a motor, and the family motor launch, twenty feet long and fast-this did not matter. The raft was the thing of adventure that called to every boy and Tim was no different from any other. Once, glancing at the patio where he could see his mother reclining with a towel over her eyes, he looked all around and, feeling secure, he slipped his big cock out of the leg of his bathing trunks and pissed a hissing stream at a bug rolling along the sand.

Shaking the drops off, he skinned it back and felt the tingle of enjoyable lust. He had come twice this morning already, but still he was horny. He might go behind the bushes over there in a few minutes and jerk off again. Boy, he sure could use that juicy cunt of Millie McFadden, once his next-door neighbor. He'd put it in as far as it would go and spurt right up to her navel. He put his cock away and went back to the occupation of building the raft, but some of the enthusiasm had gone out of it. His thoughts dwelt upon the sight of his mother's cunt as it had lain before him that morning. Hairy with pink lips, gaping to show darker-colored tissue, and the little hole in there. His cock would be just about right, he reasoned, for he imagined every cunt that had been the issuing portal of a child as being stretched out of all reasonable tightness. He had yet to fuck a mature woman who had had issue. He sighed. Probably would be a long time, too. His cock had swollen until his crotch was uncomfortably tight. Guessed he had better go jerk himself off again so he could be comfortable. Now and then Mara would raise her head and look for her son. He was a good swimmer but her motherly instinct caused her concern when he was around the water alone. She saw his shoulders disappear through the bushes and knew he was going into them for a minute of relief. She lay back with a sigh. If only she could get relief! She rubbed her clitoris through her bikini panties and felt the thrill race up her loins and into her body. She was horny and needed the thick, long cock of a man pushing and pulling in and out of her. She breathed deeply and squeezed her legs together at the thought. Mike had been an excellent fucker. He would make her cry with the intensity of their mutual climax. He had been a good provider, soldier for hire, employed by the leaders of those small wars in Southeast Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. He was a planner, a mapper. He worked out the war to the tiniest detail and then went out and recruited the men needed for it, men he knew personally, experts in war, as was he. And they, led by his expertise, would swing the balance of the conflict in the direction of the power paying them.

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