J. Russell - Mother_s ass

"I'm something special, huh, Mom? Boy, I know some things to do!" He placed his hands in her armpits and lifted, sliding her more nearly erect. "I'm ready now, Mom. I thought this up by myself!"

He pressed against her, laying his cock in the cleft between her boobs, his thighs shoving up and in against the fullness of her globes. Raising her hands, he placed her palms on the outer slopes of her boobs and pushed until her flesh closed over the base and lower shaft of his cock. His balls rested against her solar plexus, bumping when she inhaled. His cock reared from between her tits with its head touching the point of her chin.

"See, Mom? Room service! Boobs and mouth at the same time! Okay?"

Despite the revulsion she experienced at his egotism, she throbbed from the combined stimulus of the pulsing warmth between her boobs and the heady scent of the bulb at her lower lip. "Okay, Son," she murmured. A spasm of desire seized her and she grunted. "Yes! Yes, Danny!" She lowered her face, her mouth opening widely to envelop his cockhead.

Her son pumped his hips slowly, his shaft sliding freely between the foamy surfaces of her boobs and his cockhead rubbing a path along the roof of her mouth to the arch of her throat. The tip of her tongue jabbed into his slit, exploring the quivering walls, and she sucked frantically. He pumped faster, a recurrent tremor betraying his growing agitation. Helen kneaded the sides of her tits without being conscious of the act and pushed them to present her nipples to the friction of her son's belly.

Danny bent his neck abruptly, resting his chin on his chest and gritting his teeth audibly. His cock pulsed and steaming, thick jism welled into the back of Helen's mouth. She gulped, swallowing his cum as fast as he pumped it, the sweet-sour flavor making the back of her jaw buzz. She had a moment of detached realization that she wasn't going to come and an immediate surge of satisfaction in the knowledge. Her dazed condition cleared abruptly, leaving her alert and calm.

When Danny's prick softened, she was content to allow her own passion to cool without resolution. She sucked his cockhead dry and removed her hands from her tits. Danny continued to lean against her for a time, then slid back into the water to rest.

"Whew!" He grinned wearily at his mother. "Whew! Some fuck, Mom!"

She returned his gaze coolly. "Danny, it's time we started treating that word with proper respect."

"Huh?" He stared.

"Fuck is a powerful word. It's short and pungent and earthy. Its sound sort of reaches down into a person's guts and makes them feel like what it means. It loses all that if it's used at the wrong times or with the wrong meaning. Understand?"

"I guess so." He shook his head slowly.

Helen pressed the drain lever and rose to her feet. She reached across to the towels and handed one to her son, sponging at the water that coursed down her own body.

"Hey!" Danny protested. "You said I could dry you!"

"You can. I'm just getting the worst of it so I won't make a big puddle on the floor."

"Oh." Danny toweled himself rapidly and clambered out of the tub.

Helen accepted her son's help as she stepped out and stood quietly while he fondled her through the towel. His hands aroused her, even through the thick terry-cloth, and she made no effort to resist the impulses that coursed through her. She permitted herself to squirm when she felt like it and to thrust her pussy harder against Danny's hand when he dried it, frankly parting her thighs to heighten her pleasure. But when she was dry and Danny had tossed the towel aside, she vetoed his attempt to resume his feeling-up.

"Huh? But, Mom!" Danny looked deeply puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"You're looking forward to another two hours of sex, I suppose."

"Well… Well, aren't we going to?"

"No."

"Why not? Aw, shit, Mom!"

"Danny!" she drew herself erect. "That'll be all of that kind of language."

"But gee, Mom! What's all the fuss?"

"No fuss. Just time we understood each other. Time to find out where each of us stands."

He attempted to divert her. "Rather lay," he said with a grin.

"Of course!" She smiled. "Look, Danny. You've got to learn a lot yet before you can spend all your time on sex. Maybe by then you'll know better. The point is, this thing of ours got started in a sort of misunderstanding. When you found those doors open and barged in on me, you made some remark about having had the wrong idea about privacy. Well, modesty's another word that has something to do with privacy. Privacy and modesty mean just about the same thing in this house now as they did before that day."

"The same kind of off-limits things, Mom?"

"Yes. You caught me at the very worst spot in a changeover of my ideas and… well, values. I'm not going into that with you, but things were so confused I let you assume things that weren't true. And I let you make plans that aren't going to get carried out."

"Like what plans, Mom?"

She saw an edge of fear in his expression. He knows he's about to lose something he thought he had sewed up, she thought. She felt a pang of sympathy, but her obligation was clear. "Like your idea we were going to play sex games every time the coast was clear… that you had a license to play sex games with me whenever you felt like it. It's not going to work that way. You lucked out about getting a real-life demonstration of what Mr. Duffy was talking about. You even got to try out some pretty wild ideas of your own. But that's as far as it goes. I get my sex from your father, and I like it. When it's time for you to get yours, you're on your own. I'll answer questions. I might even listen to fantasies sometimes and tell you how they affect me – or whether I think they're possible. But I'm not going to be a guinea pig for you."

"You mean, like Smokey?"

She smiled again. "Like Smokey. Incidentally, if you do find a girl who's willing to try that, she might like it better the first time if you can work it so she's on her back. She'll have less psychological blocks to overcome and more erotic contact with the animal."

Her son's eyes widened. She realized he was speculating – that he must suspect she'd continued that line of research without his knowledge. But she wasn't concerned; she expected him to harbor some residue of erotic notions about her from now on.

"The fact is, Danny, I might even let you play with me once in a while. That's not a promise, and you shouldn't count on it, but it isn't impossible that I might feel like it someday. In the meantime, you'd better get a good look at me right now, because I'm through posing for you."

Helen had Art to herself that evening. Danny climaxed a restless afternoon by requesting permission to eat at a pizza place downtown and see one of the new movies, and she was quite willing to agree. Before he left, Danny brought up the subject of the donkey again.

"Don't get mad, Mom, but I was wondering."

"What?"

"Well, most people don't get around donkeys very much. Do you think dogs would be as likely to do that as Smokey was?"

She hesitated. "Probably," she replied at last.

"Mom, was he good?"

She felt a flush rise to her face. "Yes. Very good."

"Hmmm."

He had been gone only a few minutes when Art got home, and Art had seen Danny.

"I saw Dan crossing a vacant lot about six blocks from here. Where's he going?"

She told him.

"Oh." Art's voice sounded lighter. "How come you're all dressed then?"

She sniffed. "Seems to me there was something about people being modest." She grinned at his pained expression. "Look, hon," she said. "I had a chance to take a good look at myself while you were with Van this afternoon. I decided I'd swung like a pendulum. I was a first-class Victorian – a Grandma Farrell – until I realized I was going to lose you that way. So I went to the other extreme – a no-holds-barred nympho. Well, I think I know what I am, now."