Mark Jacobs: Sucker for mom

Sheila Davis smoothed her hands down over her silken sides and rested them on her naked hips, smiling seductively and admiring herself in her full-length mirror. She felt silly standing there all alone in her bedroom and practicing the comely smile that she had steadfastly refused to use on a man for three miserable and fuckless years, but she had been seized by the urge to see herself at her luscious best again, and the urge had been much too powerful to resist.

Sheila had managed somehow to cram her huge tits into a tiny bikini top, although the overflow of yielding tit-flesh was almost obscene. She had left her bottom off, not that the skimpy garment would have covered much of her beautiful ass anyway. She felt seductive as she stood there half naked, her tits barely covered, looking at her furry dark-haired cunt. She shook her head and tossed her long soft black hair until it fell over her naked shoulders and cascaded over her barely-covered bulging breasts.

Sheila was amazed to discover that her sensuality seemed to be coming to life again after three years of no cock. She knew what had triggered her sudden reawakening. Her sixteen-year-old son Terry was with her again after a three-year absence, and it was he who had caused the itch of lust to stir her pussy.

Sheila had felt herself coming to life again after such a long and restless sleep the moment she had seen her son striding down the ramp at the airport three weeks earlier. She felt herself being slowly consumed by the intense heat of her naked lust for her son.

As much as Sheila hated to admit it, she knew deep down inside her that she was wildly in love with her handsome young son. She knew how dirty and depraved her love for him was, knew perfectly well that her love for the boy went far beyond a mother's natural love for her only child. Her pussy positively blazed with passion for the boy.

Sheila always felt dizzy whenever he was near her. At times she could hardly breathe when he paraded around the beach house in various degrees of undress. She had almost fainted on several occasions when he had flashed his cunt-melting young grin at her.

Sheila had caught herself staring at the big soft-looking bulge of Terry's crotch the moment she had seen him leave the plane at the airport, and had been immediately filled with shame at her lewd behavior.

So far she knew that Terry hadn't noticed her ogling at his cock. He was so tall, so muscular, so handsome, and he moved with such controlled power that she felt her cunt warming whenever he was near her.

Sheila had lived without a man, and without her son, for far too long, but it had been necessary under the circumstances, and she somehow knew that Terry understood and forgave her for his three years without a mother.

Sheila had been too unstable after her stormy divorce from her husband Blake to devote to her son the time and attention she had known Terry would need at such a sensitive time in his life.

At the urging of friends and relatives, she had sent Terry off to the Bradford School for Boys for three years. Terry had grown to young manhood in the three years at Bradford. She had given them a sensitive and confused thirteen-year-old boy and they had returned a young stud in his place. At sixteen he was the perfect image of his father, whom Sheila still loved in spite of herself. She was filled now with the urge to mother the child she had missed for so long.

She saw in the boy all of Blake's good qualities and none of the bad. He had Blake's boldness, but not the cruel streak that had gone with it. Her son knew how to flash his boyish grin and make a girl's heart flutter, and he knew that if he could make a girl's heart flutter he could make her cunt flutter too. Blake had had that same cunt-warming grin, but had used it far too often on far too many other women.

Sheila had had ample opportunity to observe her son's way with girls. In the three weeks since he had been home he had already managed to sweep a beautiful young girl off her feet and into his arms. Sheila knew that Bradford was an extremely liberal school, so liberal in fact that it was often the object of heated social criticism.

Of course she had no idea what sexual liberties the male students at Bradford actually took with the girls at Carleton, an all-girl institution only a stone's throw from Bradford, but she did know that those liberties had been taken often enough to teach her son more than the fundamentals of fucking. She knew these things because she had watched Terry putting into practice the things he had learned in his three years at Bradford.

She had watched her son fucking on the beach!

She flushed when she thought about how dirty her spying was. But she hadn't been able to resist watching Terry and his girl friend Wendy on the sandy beach. She had been spying on them for several days now, and the more she watched the hotter her lust for her son had become.

As she stood before her mirror and admired her naked form, she began to realize that Wendy really wasn't any more attractive than she was, although the girl was sixteen and Sheila was thirty-six. The years had been good to Sheila, at least physically. She still had what it took to excite men. She still had the huge free-flowing tits that her husband had loved to lift and fondle so lustily. She still had the gently sloping thighs that hid the fuzzy nest of her fragrant and responsive cunt, the thighs that Blake had loved to stroke, the cunt that he had loved to fuck.

She had everything it took to captivate a man, if only she could bring herself to try again after such a painful divorce experience.

When she thought of the joys she had experienced in Blake's bed, her cunt began to moisten between her slightly spread legs. She had to have cock now! She had to feel something rubbing against her clit and the tender lips of her pussy! She had to have something in her cunt, even if it was her own fingers!

She held her breath and reached down between her long lithe legs, stroking the mound of her cunt. She felt her pussy tingling inside as her fingertips stimulated the sensitive flesh. Her cunt began to twitch as her fingers played over her pussy-flesh.

She had to see Terry and Wendy! She couldn't wait another minute. She ran to her dresser and removed the binoculars she had been using for her spying, still pressing the fingers of one hand against her moistening cuntlips. Hardly able to breathe, she ran into the living room and sat herself on the sofa in front of her huge picture window. The view of the ocean was always breathtaking, but now her breath was taken away by a wilder and even more awe-inspiring sight. She had found them!

Sheila had known just about where to point her binoculars.

Terry and Wendy usually fucked in the same spot on a big bright orange beach blanket, which was easy enough to find on the white sand of the beach. Sheila's beach house was far enough away from the other houses in the area to afford Terry and Wendy enough privacy for their hot-fucking activities, although she somehow got the impression that privacy was the farthest thing from their horny minds.

Wendy was a hot-assed little cunt, and Sheila knew it. Sheila was a bit jealous of her too, although she tried to hide her true feelings. She writhed when she considered how Wendy was monopolizing Terry's time, but she endured the agony for the sake of her son. Wendy was a nice enough girl, she knew, if only Terry wouldn't spend so much of his time with her.

Wendy was on vacation and was staying at her Aunt Sally's place, although she seemed to be staying with Sheila and Terry as much as with her aunt. But even though her feelings about Wendy were mixed, Sheila had to admit that she gave her the opportunity to stroke her sweet cunt leisurely while she watched her son in action.