J Bradley - Mom going down

"Ahhhhh!" she groaned loudly. "I'm coming, Bruce! Fuck me! Fuck Mom and Aunt Vicky and Nancy and everybody! Fuck them all with your big, blasting prick!"

"I am!" he cried. "Here it comes! Ohhh, God!"

He whimpered and moaned. He ground his hips against her split-open crotch. He rammed his big prick all the way up her body and let the spasms sweep through him again.

His cum blasted and hosed. He filled her cunt full. It ran and spurted from between her naked pussylips and his plunging shaft and coated their thighs and crotches with still another load.

Monica whistled through her nose as she watched them. The tube flew in and out of her dripping cunt. She pumped her hips against it and rolled her clit with her thumb and she exploded with them, her yearning pussy squeezing spasmodically around the big tube until she weaved dizzily and had to sit down.

She panted and watched them through the crack. Vicky had done it. It was over. He was cherried now. He was a stud.

And she was ready and eager to fuck her son.

"Go ahead, Monica," Vicky said with a taunting smile. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm still afraid."

"I thought you were ready now. That's what you told me last night after he went to bed."

"Did you have to fuck him so much, Vicky?" she asked snappishly.

Vicky laughed softly. "No, I didn't have to. I wanted to. He learned very fast. I liked it, darling. And you liked watching, too. I heard you in there, coming and coming. Your cunt must be rubbed raw by now."

"It is," Monica said. "But did you have to do everything? You could have left me something to give him so that it would be new for him."

"Darling, I did," Vicky smiled. She leaned closer to her sister and put her hand out. She cupped Monica's pointed tit through the filmy nightie and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What?" Monica said. "I didn't see anything you left out. You jacked him off, you sucked him clear down your throat, you fucked him, you made him eat your pussy and tits. What else is left, Vicky, for God's sake!"

Vicky smiled again. "The best of all, sweetie." She moved her hand and kneaded gently. "Your ass."

Monica whipped her head around and gasped. "Oh, God!"

"That big prick right up your ass, darling – hosing and squirting, giving you a hot, white enema!"

"Ohhhh…" Monica groaned, shivering wildly.

Her asscheeks clamped together. The squeezing of Vicky's hand was like an electric current through her body. She remembered the huge, stuffing feel of Gil's prick fucking up her ass the night before he left, and she didn't know if she could take that again.

But it wouldn't be Gil's pick this time. It would be Bruce's young cock. Her son's.

"Go on, now," Vicky urged. "Quit stalling. Keep the lights out so there's no chance he'll know. Then go in there and pretend you're me and let him fuck you silly."

Monica shivered again, a small sound escaping her lips. It was so deceitful, so shameless, so perverted. But her cunt was so hot she couldn't stand it any more. And she knew that Bruce would freeze up if he suspected he was really fucking his mother.

Vicky pushed. Monica got off the bed wordlessly. She felt lightheaded. With each step toward the door, there was growing realization that she was on her way into her son's room to fuck his prick into her body.

There was something ancient about it, something with the flavor of a ritual. She felt the film nightie whisper against her bare legs and flow around her naked, round asscheeks and slip against her bald cunt and pouting nipples, and she sucked in her breath with terrible heat flashing through her.

"Go on," Vicky urged. "Don't stop, Monica. Don't stop, or you'll never go."

"I shouldn't."

"You want it. It'll be good for him. It'll be good for both of you. It might even be good for Gil. Maybe he won't feel so superior any more. Like such a stud."

"Gil?" Monica asked, her voice hollow and strange. "Good for Gil?"

"Sure. If he finds out, you'll have a reason. Bruce is tender and gentle. That's why. Maybe it'll make him more tender, less of a raping bull."

"Gil would kill him if he found out." Her voice shook.

"I don't think so. I think he'll have mixed emotions. He'll want to kill, and he'll be proud at the same time. It'll make him think. You're not just a box for Bruce to bang. You're his mother. How much more skill is there in seducing your mother than a hot young cunt? It'll make Gil think."

"But Bruce hasn't seduced me. I'm doing it to him. You did it."

"Gil doesn't need to know that. Besides, maybe he'll quit that damn oil job now – get himself off that rig before he ends up dead the way Stan did. He won't want to leave you home along with Bruce any more. Or maybe he will, I don't know. Better Bruce than catting around behind his back. Maybe he'll look at it that way and be relieved."

"Yes. He might."

Monica stood in front of the door. Her voice sounded very funny to her. While she was talking about Gil, there was a cool remoteness to her thoughts, as if something were about to be resolved between them, as though she were asserting herself for the first time. Enough to make him listen finally.

It would be good. All around, it would be good.

She opened the door and stepped into the dark hall. She walked quickly down it. She didn't knock on Bruce's door. She opened it and went into his room.

There was a gasp. She heard the quick rustle of sheets. In stray light from outside, she saw that he was naked on the bed and that his cock was standing stiffly in the air. He pulled the sheet over it quickly and sat up and looked embarrassed.

"Aunt Vicky?" he whispered.

"Yes," Monica said. Her heart pounded. She shut the door. "But don't forget our little game, honey," she said, trying to use Vicky's words, Vicky's inflections.

"How could I forget?" he whispered.

"Then what are you supposed to call me?"

"Mom!"

She went to the bed and stood beside it. The light came through her nightie. He saw the outline of her body through it, and she shivered with the knowledge that she was nearly nude for him and would soon be fucking him.

"What were you doing when I came in, darling?" She saw the hump in the sheet. She reached forward brazenly, trying to still the trembling in her fingers. Vicky's fingers wouldn't be trembling right now.

"Aw, Aunt – Mom!" he gasped.

She caught hold of his stiff cock. Thrills chased through her body and made her moan.

"Ohhhh, Brucie – you were jacking off, weren't you?"

"Yes! I couldn't help it! I laid here and thought about what we did last night, and I was hoping you'd come in just the way you did! Ohhhh, Mom!" he gasped.

She sat on the bed with him. "You know what to do by now, don't you, honey?" she said.

She shivered again. She was glad he knew. She didn't have the nerve to initiate it beyond what she'd already done.

"You bet I do," he said. "Come here, Mom. I've got a big hard prick. It's right here, and you've got your hand around it, and it wants to fuck into your hot, wet cunt again."

"Do you think you can have a little more control over yourself tonight, Brucie?" she asked.

"I-I can try, Mom."

"Then I'll – ohhh, God, I'll let you fuck me, Bruce!" she gasped.

There! It was out! She'd said it!

"Ohhh, Mom!" he whimpered, reaching for her.

He reached for the tie on her nightie and undid it. Monica helped him. It slipped from her shoulders and bared her pointed, thrusting tits.

He cupped them in his hands and felt them. She gasped and drew in a shaking breath and leaned against him, swimming with heat, her bald cunt running already.

"Ohhh, they're extra hard and big tonight, Mom," Bruce whispered. "The nipples."

"Oh, suck them, darling! Suck them! Suck Mom's tits!"