J Bradley: Mom going down

There was a new quality to Vicky's voice. Some of the coolness was gone, replaced by heat and lust. Her tongue came out and swept over her soft lips, wetting them.

"Aunt Vicky! What are you doing! Ohhhhhh, God – God!" Bruce cried, nearly beside himself with passion.

Vicky was moving her fingers up and down his prick, through the drooling cum. Then she was wiping the hot jism on her face and lips, bathing herself with it. Then she opened her mouth and sucked it down over the head of the big cock and moaned.

Monica watched. She shuddered with lust. Flavor burst through her senses when there wasn't any reason for it to. She watched the image of herself suck down over the big prick and lick the bubbling cum from the eye with the tip of her tongue.

She shook her hand over her cunt and remembered how it had been when she'd sucked Gil's cock all the way the other morning. She swallowed and swallowed as she watched her sister lick and lap all over the wet prick.

"Ahhhhh!" Bruce grunted tightly, tipping his head back with bliss and shock combined.

"Mmmm, I love it!" Vicky cried. She licked her lips and swallowed again and again, running her fingers all over his cock at the same time, petting it and fondling it.

"Oh, Aunt Vicky!" Bruce choked.

"You can see how much I love it, darling – can't you? Oh, Bruce – don't you dare deny Nancy a drink of your sweet young cum! She'd love it too! I know, Bruce – I'm a woman, and I know!"

"Nancy, Nancy!" he cried with an odd sound.

Vicky wrapped her arms around his hips and ass and guided him toward the bed, making him back into it. He sat. His prick jutted and strained from his lap.

"Aunt Vicky – what are you – going to do?" he gasped.

He looked down at her, watching her get to her knees in front of him. He looked down the front of her dress and ogled the pointed, firm tits there, and his prick throbbed again.

"I'm going to take off these messy pants, Bruce," Vicky said. She pulled at them and got them to his knees. She laid her cheek along his thigh and sighed, her fingers cupping his balls and fondling his prick.

"Aunt Vicky!" he gasped, wanting to touch the back of her head and hold her against his crotch, and yet afraid to.

She lifted her head and smiled sweetly and hotly. She pushed at his chest gently. "Lie back, darling. Let Aunt Vicky slip your pants off."

"Ohhh," he moaned, leaning backward. He kept looking, though. His prick strained with unbelievable rigidity. It pulsed with every beat of his heart. Vicky slipped his pants off his legs.

She stood up then. She looked down at him, lying back on his elbows, his legs partly spread, his hot balls bunched into a tight knot under the base of his big cock soaring upward like a waving flagpole.

"What…?" he gasped, the sound more a grunt than a question. He watched her. His cock throbbed and beat. His eyes stared at her hungrily as she reached behind her back to run the zipper down.

"I'm going to take my dress off, sweetie," she said. "It's no fair for you to be lying there with your prick thrusting so beautifully into the air while I'm fully dressed, is it?"

"Ahhhh…" he whimpered. His cock jerked and bucked.

Vicky slipped the red, clinging satin from her shoulders and let it slip silkily from the points of her tits. Bruce stared at her tits and licked his lips. She smiled again.

"There, darling. Now you can look at them all you want to. Look closely, Bruce, and you'll see exactly what your mother's tits look like."

"Ohhhh, God – they're beautiful, Aunt Vicky!" She hooked her thumbs into the material at her waist and pushed. The red satin slid over her hips and fell with a whisper down her thighs to the floor. She stepped out of the puddle it made, and she braced her thighs slightly apart and put her hands on her hips and let him stare at the outline of her puffy-lipped cunt through the transparent panties.

"There's my cunt, darling," she whispered.

"Look at it. Feast your eyes on it. Drink the sight in and remember it. It's just like your mother's cunt."

His eyes bulged from his head. His mouth opened, and he panted through it.

"Aunt Vicky – your cunt… it's… it doesn't have any… any hair on it!"

"Just like your mother's sweet cunt, honey. We shaved it off. Don't you think that's exciting?"

"I can – see it!" he croaked. "I can see everything! Your cuntlips – the crack between them… ohhh, Aunt Vicky, it's not at all like the pusses in the girlie magazines. They've got so much hair that even when they face the camera with their legs open you can't see their cunts, because of all the hair."

Vicky tipped her head back and laughed softly. "Well, you can see all of mine, honey. And your mother's. Here, I'll slip off my panties, and you can see it even better."

She hooked her thumbs in the waist of the panties and pushed. The garment wadded and rolled into a frothy web at her hips. Then it swept over them and slipped down her thighs, and Vicky stood before him in all her shaved, silky beauty, letting him gorge himself on the sight of her curving, youthful body.

Monica could see it all. She couldn't help looking at her sister's gorgeous body herself, knowing that hers was identical to it in every respect.

She looked at her son's face and his reaction to the sight, and the expression was thrilling to behold. It made her wish she hadn't been so prudish. It made her wish she were standing there in front of him now instead of Vicky.

There was lust in his expression – youthful and innocent and eager. There was awe. There was a sense of wonder and amazement and a dizzying something she couldn't quite define.

His prick was like a bar of iron, reaching, stretching, throbbing, pulsing. Monica looked at her son's cock and moaned quietly behind the bathroom door and swirled her hand over her cunt again and again until the sounds of wetness were so loud they would surely give her away.

"Ohhhh, Aunt Vicky…" Bruce whimpered finally.

He couldn't restrain himself any longer. Even if she were watching him, he simply had to grab his prick and start jacking it, before it burst apart and covered them both with the boiling contents of his balls.

"Ohhh, I can't help it!" he moaned. "Aunt Vicky…"

His hand swept up and down his cock. Vicky moved quickly, going between his legs and holding his arm, making him stop.

"Is-is that bad to do, Aunt Vicky? Is that why you want me to stop? Oh, shit – did I do something wrong again?"

"Of course not, Bruce," Vicky said sweetly. "It's exciting to watch you jack your cock like that. But I don't want you to waste all that luscious cum again."

"Waste it, Aunt Vicky?"

"Honey, don't call me Aunt Vicky. Pretend I'm your mother. You can't really tell us apart, you know."

"Sure, I can! She'd never do anything like this with me!" he gasped.

"I think she would. I think maybe she's been a little afraid to, that's all. Just the way you were afraid a few minutes ago. But you don't look afraid any more," she laughed, holding his prick and waggling it, making him laugh nervously.

"You mean you think Mom…?" he started.

Vicky nodded solemnly. "I don't just think, Bruce – I know. She's been peeking at your prick just as hard as you've been peeking at her tits and ass and trying to see her cunt."

Bruce stared at her with disbelief. "But she's got Dad," he said. "That morning he left – I heard them in here fucking! I know that's what they were doing, Aunt Vicky. And then she came out and – and…"

"Honey, that was a long time ago. Weeks. She hasn't had any fucking since then. When Gil goes off for a month at a time like this, she gets very hot, very horny. She looks at you, believe me. And she'd just love to have this big cock far up inside her hot cunt – just as much as you want to put it there."