Heather Brown - Mom_s boy hunger

While I pantingly watched, the words of Mr. Farraday concerning my son and his troubles came back to me: "Shower him with love," he had said.

And what, I told myself, is a purer expression of love than sex?

Why hadn't I seen it before? This was the perfect moment I had been waiting for to show Don how much I loved him. There could be no more effective therapy for my son's dangerously low self-esteem than sex with his mother.

What better way to show my son how much I loved him than by letting him fuck me?

Bolting upright, I quickly stripped. Whatever inhibitions I had remaining were dissolved by the sight of my own naked body. My tits were a blush and heaving, my cunt flexing hairily. The pussy juice was trickling down my quivering thighs.

I was totally primed to fuck my son. All at once it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. How had I been so blind as to ignore this course of action?

Yanking open the door I stood nude before Don. You should have seen his face.

"M-M-Mom," he stammered.

I didn't say anything at first, deciding that under the circumstances actions would speak louder than words. Going to the toilet, I knelt before my son, took his hard-on in my hands, and crammed it into my mouth.

He gasped. He gaped. Panted and swooned.

But, believe me, inside, I was doing the same thing.

Don's cock wasn't nearly as large as the others I'd been sampling since I'd launched my secret life. But its sweetness more than made up for it. God, it was like sucking on a stick of candy.

I orally took it all the way down to the root. And when there-was still plenty of space left in my mouth, gobbled up his balls. They were so smooth and round-like sucking on a pair of stones drawn from a river-bed.

All the while my son was looking at me as though I were an alien from outer space. And I can't say that I blamed him. After all, probably the last thing a kid expects when he retreats to the bathroom to jerk-off is for his mother to suddenly appear in the nude and begin sucking his cock.

However, radical measures have to be taken by a mother when her son is in emotional peril. Before I was finished with Don, I would make certain he knew I was taking this action for his own good. Not to mention mine.

Let's face it, once I had my lips around it, my son's prick stood on its own merit in my estimation. Now that I knew how sweet it was, I'd have broken my back to suck him off even if he'd been the picture of mental health.

I'd planned to get into the fucking right away, but now I'd decided on a detour to the big event. Why not have Don come in my mouth first? After all, as a teenage boy he had to have more than enough sperm for multiple ejaculations. I'd nurture my stomach before I had my cunt irrigated.

My squeezing lips began traversing virtually the entire expanse of my son's twitching boner. From hilted penetration I want to merely mouthing the heart-shaped head, and then back again.

Up and down. Back and forth. Sucking, sucking, sucking. Fucking Don with my mouth and loving it!

He still seemed to regard me as a Martian, but now his expression of incredulity was increasingly punctuated by a series of sharp gasps. Clearly, the orgasmic tide was rising within his loins.

Come! Come! I mentally implored. Jesus, I wanted his sweet young spunk so badly.

His cock lurched in my mouth so I hilted it for imminent eruption. With the head lodged in my gullet, Don exploded in a liquid cataclysm.

His cum was like molten lava mixed with sugar. It practically tore the roof off my skull and gave me diabetes at the same time.

When I'd sucked Mr. Farraday's prick, I'd been able to swallow every drop. But not with my son. It was just impossible. There was too much of the wonderful stuff.

My stomach got fuller and fuller. Finally it could hold no more and rebelled with a violent contraction.

The jizz came up like vomit. All of a sudden I was retching all over my son, showering him with his own semen.

But he made no move to get away. Still too stunned, I guess. Can't say that I could blame the poor kid.

While he sat on the toilet goggle-eyed and ripping, I began to crawl up on him. It was a slippery ascent, but I gained traction by digging my nails into him. Before he could react I was sitting straddle-legged on his lap, kissing him and rubbing his still-erect cock against my hairy pussy.

My tongue plunged down his throat, while my labia and clit simultaneously chafed his manhood. Mmmmmm, I couldn't wait to feel him inside me.

I was still soul-kissing him as I reached down for his cock and began fitting it into my cunt. I hoped I could constrict my muscles enough to make it a tight fit.

Don only had about six inches of phallic meat, and his tool was slender, but I was more than up to the challenge of creating the conditions for a perfect fuck. The sinews in my twat became like the strands of a noose, closing theft diameter until space was at a premium.

"Tight enough for you, honey?" I ended my kiss and nibblingly asked in his ear.

He tried to speak, but words were still an impossibility for him. No matter-I would provide, the verbal arousal for both of us.

"Fuck me, son," I obscenely crooned. "Fuck Mom as hard as you can. Move your dick inside me. Wiggle your ass like I'm wiggling mine."

He complied without hesitation. His libido had totally taken over the functions of his body. His mind may have still had some doubts about incest, but physically he was gung-ho.

While he fucked me, I stuck my tongue in his ear and imagined I was tickling his brain-making it as much of an erogenous zone as his more obvious ones. I wanted him with me all the way.

Then I took his hand and clasped it to my breasts. I craved his inexperienced fingers massaging my grown-up tits.

Taking my nipples and pinching them. Making them even harder than they were already. Black and blue if need be.

When his fingers found those magically protruding buds of incredibly tactile flesh, his reaction was divinely predictable. Yes, he squeezed them-one nipple and then the other. Hard…

It hurt so good.

Below, we were humping up a storm. Through the sterling adaptation of my pussy, Don's adolescent cock seemed as thick within me as any man's. Hell, as any stallion's.

Maybe penetration wasn't all it could be, however my womb seemed to come down to meet the head of his stabbing prick. When my cervix opened, my spasming uterus was as engorged with hard-on as it would have been with a foot-long specimen.

My hands were still free, so I decided to do a little fooling around with his balls. Those smooth spheres that were busily manufacturing the liquid platinum which would be the icing on this fuck. Maybe if I pumped them vigorously enough they would double their creamy output.

However, once I had seized his churning nuts, I was not inclined to stop my exploration. After all, didn't something delicious lay beyond his scrotum?

My index finger slid past his gonads into the sweaty crevice of my son's ass.

His anus was there waiting for me. Pouting.

I couldn't actually see it, of course, but there was nothing to stop me from closing my eyes and imagining it: Round. Red. Still free of the ravages of age. A cherry.

I gently poked inside. Mmmmmm, such warmth and tightness.

My finger wiggled and the tight orifice spasmed. Below I could feel the throbbing lump of my boy's suddenly gown-up prostate gland. When approached in this fashion, the male anatomy yielded interior treasures that were almost the equal of the female's.

The slant of my digital probing became angled downward. I wanted to test Don's prostate to the ultimate, forcing the gland to trigger the production of so much cum that my cunt would eventually explode from the onslaught.

Then, at what I gauged to be precisely the right moment, I curved my finger into a hook. An eagle's talon.