"Stories 18+" Embracing the MILF Within

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Stories 18+ Embracing the MILF Within
I looked at the display on my phone. It said one word.

Mom.

"Hey! I was just going to call you!" I laughed, answering it. Most of the time, that might be just a way to deflect guilt, but in this case, it was true.

"Well, let me hang up then! I don't want to miss your call!" she giggled, then went quiet. For a second, I thought she might have actually hung up, until I heard her snort, and laugh again. "Damn! I almost had you!"

"You did!" I nodded. "Hi Mom."

"Hello, darling," she replied. "So? Why were you calling?" 

"You called me," I corrected her.

"True, but you said you were going to, so go ahead," she said softly. I knew from experience not to try and out-flank her.

"Okay," I smiled, knowing I'd never find out just why she called. "I was just wondering if you'd like some company for a few weeks this summer?" 

"Hmmmm, well, let's see... I'll have to check my schedule," she bluffed. I could almost hear her smile. "Of course! I'd love to see you! It's been far too long since I saw my baby boy! When are you coming?"

"How does three weeks sound?" I asked. "I'm almost finished the project I'm on, and I could use a break when I'm done. I really need to just get away."

"Well, I have the perfect place for you to get away to," she bubbled. "Come home, here, and let Momma take care of you. I'm going to spoil my baby!"

"Now, Mom... don't fuss. I'm all grown up now. You don't need to go overboard," I suggested, knowing full well it would fall on deaf ears.

"Nonsense!" she giggled, brushing my words aside. "I have to clean your room! I've been meaning to have a little more work done. Paint, hedges, that sort of thing. No time like the present."

"Mom?" I interrupted her. "Please. Don't do all that on my account. I'm coming home to see you, not my room."

"Whatever you say, darling," she answered. 

I knew there was nothing that would stop her from doing whatever she wanted to do. Especially from thousands of miles away. I gave her my flight information... yes, I was already booked. I knew she'd say yes. What mother wouldn't?

"Oooooooooo, I'm so excited!" she gasped. "I just can't wait to see you! I'll be at the airport to meet you! My baby's coming home!" 

What can I say? She's my Mom, and she loves me. I love her, too. I only hoped she didn't overdo it.

***

My flight was delayed a few minutes, but other than that, was quite enjoyable. There was a slightly older couple sitting next to me, and they were happy to talk, but didn't impose on me. The wife was in the seat right beside me, and told me all about their kids, and the vacation they'd been on. I was more than willing to listen. It gave me an excuse to look at her.

I'd guess she was in her forties. Maybe older, if her husband was any indication. Anyway, she was one very attractive woman; blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a pleasant personality, and a really nice pair, on display in the open neckline of her blouse. She laughed a lot, and her laughter set those boobs jiggling. 

The only real indication of age was found on her face, where a few lines and tiny wrinkles contradicted her youthful personality and sexiness. Since her husband was content to sleep through most of the flight, Daphne, as we'd been introduced, turned to me to pass the time.

I have to admit, I began having very intimate thoughts about her, as we laughed and chatted. She had a flirtatious nature, and a habit of touching my arm while talking to me. I'm sure she saw the frequent glances that I cast down her blouse, admiring the creamy smooth curves of her full breasts. My fantasies wandered away with her to the restroom, where we'd satisfy each other's immediate physical needs in the cramped confines.

I was ears deep in her presumably very wet pussy when her words brought me back to reality. She was smiling at me, awaiting an answer to a question I hadn't heard. I could hardly tell her the reason; somehow, I didn't think she'd understand that I had mentally undressed her, and we were fucking each other madly in my mind.

"I'm sorry, I missed that," I smiled, gesturing to the constant drone of jet noise in the cabin.

"I said 'what is taking you east?'. I gather you live back where we started?" she repeated.

"Oh. Yes, I live out west," I nodded, still lost in her cleavage. "My Mom. That's what takes me east."

"Nothing serious, I hope," Daphne asked, her concern genuine, as she touched me again.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," I shook my head, dismissing the thought. "Just visiting. I've got time, and I haven't seen her much lately. We talk all the time, but face to face, in person time, has been pretty short. It's been years, actually. I feel a bit guilty about that. I didn't mean to ignore her. Time just got away from me."

"I'm sure she knows that," she smiled. "We mothers have a sense. It is nice to hear from our kids, though. Makes us feel appreciated." 

Oh great. Now I really felt guilty. Not for my Mom; that guilt was being dealt with by this trip. This was different. By reminding me that she was someone's mother, too, she made me regret the lust I'd been feeling since we started talking. At least I wouldn't need to hide my bulging crotch with the pillow, anymore. 

My Mom is a blonde, too. Not the platinum variety, but simply a dishwater blonde, kind of an average colour. 'Average' might get used to describe my Mother in many ways, but none of them should be seen as disparaging her. It was just a case of average, as opposed to exceptional.

She was slightly taller than average, but not tall. Dad was slightly shorter than average, so Mom almost never wore heels, at his insistence. She was maybe a little prettier than the average Mom, and a little bigger up top, but not overly so. She was always complaining about her weight, a bit more than average, but she wasn't fat. She was just average, but she was my Mom, and I loved her.

Dad? Well, he was pretty average, too, except he was a little below it. As I mentioned, he was short-ish. He also failed to measure up as a father, and as a husband. He cheated on Mom, more than once, and she still stood by him. Why? I may never know. He died in an accident, which might be seen as karmic retribution, since he was a bad driver as well.

At least he was insured, and Mom was financially stable, if not comfortable. 

I heard the engines throttle back slightly, as we started our descent. Daphne elbowed her snoring husband, bringing him to life, and everyone prepared for landing, closing tray tables and fastening seatbelts. Daphne continued to read her book, spotlighted from above by the overhead light.

I swear, she must have known that the book wasn't the only thing being illuminated so perfectly by the small, intense reading light over her head. Add a little turbulence, and her jiggling boobs made that cleavage impossible to ignore. I didn't even try. I'd probably never see her again, anyway. Some moderate ogling seemed the least I could do. 

A relatively smooth touchdown followed, and after taxiing to the terminal, everyone did what they always do at the end of the flight... stand up and wait impatiently while the jet way is maneuvered into place. I shook my head, and remained seated, casually watching as Daphne and her husband retrieved their belongings from the overhead bins. Mmmmmm, those boobs, made more prominent by her reaching up high.

I saw the subtle smile at the corners of her mouth, knowing she was still attractive enough to get the attention of a younger man, such as myself. She didn't mind me watching, and even had one last flirty gift for me. As the passengers started to shuffle forward, she leaned over, and gave me a direct look down her blouse. Her bra cradled those soft globes, and showed me just a hint of areola.

"Enjoy your visit with your mother," she said softly in my ear. "it was nice talking to you, and passing the time together." She smiled, and joined her husband, leaving me to digest the lovely view burned into my memory.

I was among the last off the plane, and as I emerged from the gate, the crowd was quite thick, milling about without direction, as crowds tend to do. I cast a look around, hoping to see my Mother, who had said she'd meet me, but I didn't see a familiar face.

What I did see, through a crease in the crowd, was a great pair of legs, and a sexy, four-inch heel dangling off perfectly painted toes. Whomever the owner of the legs was, she was sitting, legs crossed, presumably waiting for her flight. The legs held my attention for some time, appearing and disappearing as the throng went by. I caught a flash of red hair through the crowd, as well, something I would normally have wanted to investigate further. I have a bit of a thing for redheads... but, I wasn't here to look for women.

Just one, actually. Mom. I pulled my phone out, and sent a text, while I walked slowly through the terminal.

I'm here. I sent. Where's a good place to meet? I stopped in front of the large, lighted map of the airport, looking for a bar or restaurant that might be a good landmark.

I'm at the gate, came the reply, seconds later. I didn't see you. Lots of people. Thinning out now though.

Stay there. I'll come back, I typed, and reversed direction, dragging my carry-on bag behind me. As I neared the waiting area, I started looking for her again, scanning the seated and standing gathering for a familiar blonde, and a familiar smile. I didn't see her.

Are you at the right gate? I don't see you, I sent.

Well, I see you, she sent back. Tag! You're it!

Hide and seek? Really? I asked.

Just seek. I'm not hiding, she replied. 

Fine, I thought, beginning to walk among the formation of semi-comfortable chairs. I came around a corner and encountered those legs again, and the red hair above, but I was looking for a blonde, so I moved on without looking further.

Ooooo, so close! my phone told me. Turn around.

I looked up from the message, and turned. The redhead was smiling at me, legs crossed casually, phone in hand, finger poised over the screen.

That's no redhead... That's my Mom! Well, you know what I mean...

"Mom? Wow! You look great!" I gasped. As she stood up, I noticed another change, besides the hair colour. A change that became more obvious when she pounced, and hugged me.

"Jeremy! Welcome home, honey!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck, and crushing me against a chest that seemed much fuller than I remembered her being. Much fuller. I wrapped my arms around her, and picked her up, causing a squeal of delight. She kicked her feet excitedly, sending her shoes flying. "I've missed you so much."

When I put her down, she ran her hands over her jacket and skirt, smoothing them in place. She needn't have, as her clothes were very form-fitting, and her form filled them nicely.

"What do you think?" she asked, posing for my inspection. She shifted from one pose to another, like a model.

My eyes started at the bottom, following her legs upward. Her calves were very toned and firm looking. The skirt, which hugged her hips and thighs, ended just above the knee, and showed how slim her lower half was. Above, the matching jacket completed her business suit, giving her a very sophisticated, professional look. The red hair looked good on her, as well.

Am I missing something? Ah, yes... Where did those come from? Sitting high and proud on her chest was a pair of boobs that would make a stripper proud. There's no way I missed those while growing up. They had to be a recent addition. They were covered by a chic, white blouse, buttoned to her throat. 

"I, um, I love the hair," I smiled, "and you look great in that suit."

"That's it?" she giggled, unbuttoning the jacket, and striking a profile. "Nothing else?"

"Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere else," I offered, buying time to think. Hey, Mom... really looove your new tits. Just how big are those puppies, anyway? 

A tug from below rescued me, as a little boy, returning one of Mom's shoes, got her attention. Mom dropped quickly to one knee, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Thank you so much!" she smiled, hugging the child, and collecting her shoe. When she stood up, she turned to me. I had found the other shoe, behind me, and handed it to her. "Come here. You get another hug, too."

This time, she didn't leap on me, instead merely wrapping her arms around me and holding me against her. I felt that soft pressure again, and it felt good.

"You don't mind if I take you out for dinner, do you, honey?" she asked, sitting to put her sexy heels on again.

"Not at all," I smiled. "Airline food hardly qualifies as edible. I could eat."

"Good," she nodded, picking up her purse. "Let's go!"

We made small talk as we walked, and I tried not to fixate on the attractive bounce her steps induced in her breasts. We wound our way through the crowds, stopped at the baggage claim, and eventually found ourselves in the parkade. Mom extended her hand, and a car ahead beeped.

"Hey! What happened to the Buick?" I asked as we stopped behind the silver Lexus.

"I still have it," Mom smiled, opening the trunk with another button. "This is my company car. It's much nicer."

"Company car? I thought you were only working part time?" I asked.

"Yes, I was, but things changed," Mom said. "The man I was assisting got himself into a bit of hot water with management, and was asked to leave."

"They fired him?" I wondered.

"Something of an understatement, but yes," she replied. "I was asked to take his place. They wanted me pretty bad. Nice raise, and the car... It's actually been a lot of fun."

More things I didn't know about my mother. I knew she had a marketing degree from college. I knew she hadn't used that degree, marrying my father soon after graduating. I knew she had gone back to her maiden name after my father died, making it easier to use her degree, and I knew she had started part-time with a local company, selling advertising time on three local TV stations. I didn't know she'd become such a success at it.

The car was very comfortable, and again, we kept our topic of conversation light during the trip. Soon, we arrived at Laurent's, a very popular, very high-end restaurant it had never been my pleasure to frequent.

"Here? We're eating here?" I asked. "I hope you made a reservation."

"Just leave that to me," she smiled, pulling to a stop at the valet station. She tipped the mirror, checking to see she was presentable, and fluffing her hair. What she did next made me do a double-take. Before she opened the door, and stepped out... she popped the top three buttons on her blouse.

I'm sure the valet got quite an eyeful as he helped her out of the driver's door. Seconds later, she was on my arm again, and we were walking into the lobby.

"I've brought a few clients here for dinner," Mom said. "They can do me a favour in exchange. But just in case..." she giggled, popping another button, "... I'll break out the big guns!"

I stayed in the background, watching my mother flaunt her augmented assets in the maƮtre de's face. His eyes lit up when she bent to get his attention. Her blouse was open to a point just below her boobs, so he was getting a view of her cleavage that might kill a lesser man. A brief conversation followed, during which, his eyes never left her chest. She smiled, and gestured me to follow.

"Works every time," she whispered, taking my arm again. We found ourselves seated in a relatively quiet part of the busy restaurant, and I sat across from Mom. Even from this angle, her tits were stunning, and a major distraction.

"Mom?" I asked. "Can you put those away?"

"What? These?" she smiled, hefting them in both hands, and showing me even more of the smooth, rounded curves for a few brief seconds. "No. I guarantee, we'll get much better service if I don't."

As if on cue, the waiter appeared out of the woodwork. He was extremely attentive, and conveniently placed himself over Mom's shoulder as he took our orders. He was quickly off to the kitchen, and Mom smiled at me.

"See? Told you so," she laughed. "I'm sorry if I'm a distraction, but it's become a favourite game of mine. You still haven't asked me about them. Is now a good time?" 

Clearly, she wasn't going to just let it go. She wanted to explain the changes she'd made, no matter how embarrassing I found the conversation. 

"Fine," I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes. "Gee, Mom. You look different. What did you do?" 

"Oh. Try not to sound so interested, will you?" she chastised, crossing her arms angrily. "You haven't seen me in how long? My life has totally changed, and you act like you don't care." She looked away, upset.

Damn. I hate it when she's right. It was time for me to buck up, and remember it's not always about me.

"Mom?" I asked softly. "Please understand. It's not that I don't care. It's just a difficult subject for a boy to discuss with his mother. But you're right... We do have a lot to catch up on, and I can't pick and choose. Please. Tell me everything. I mean it. I love you, and I want to know."

"Thank you," she smiled, relaxing visibly. "You've grown into a fine young man. Your mother must have taught you well."

"Yes, she did," I smiled, reaching across to take her hand. "She's also very beautiful. Even more than I remember. There must be a story behind that." 

"Yes, there is," she smiled. "It is rather personal. Are you sure you're ready?"

"No," I giggled, "but I'll survive. Tell me everything. Just be gentle, okay?"

"Of course, darling," she nodded.

The waiter was back, bringing drinks and bread, and getting another peek down my mother's blouse. I watched her pretend she didn't know her tits were so interesting. It really was a game for her. Once he was gone, she began her tale. 

Ten years ago, I was home for Dad's funeral. I'd been home three times since, but those were mostly in the first five years. She'd been alone for too long, although I did find out she wasn't always alone. She'd had a few boyfriends, her own age or older. That had led her to a gym near her house, where she worked hard to lose some weight, and tone her body, with great success. Still, there was a problem with those last few pounds, and she used the services of a personal trainer to focus on those.

He was a muscular young guy, who, well, how do I put this? In addition to time in the gym, he apparently provided personal training of an extremely personal type. Still don't get it?

He fucked my Mom. Repeatedly, and very energetically.

"He called me his little MILF," Mom giggled. "I didn't even know what a MILF was. When he explained it, I wasn't sure if it was an insult or a compliment. I did know he made me feel very good in the bedroom, and we kept meeting for our workouts, both at the gym and at my home. That's when I found out her was doing the same with other women. I fired him."

"Good," I nodded, trying not to picture my mother in that situation. I had long known what a MILF was, and like most younger men, it was a favourite fantasy. I just never thought of MY mother as the 'M' in MILF. 

Until now. Mom continued.

"I started checking out more porn on the internet, and I found thousands of MILF videos!" she gasped. "Did you know they were so popular?"

"Um, yeah," I answered. "I've seen a few." It was only a lie of scale.

"Well, I hadn't," she smiled, "but I sure have now. God! They're so exciting! I just can't help picturing myself when I watch them!" 

I was starting to regret asking her to tell me everything. I thought discussing her boobs was going to be the most sexual point of conversation. Now she was revealing her inner desires in a way I hadn't anticipated. My mother, the horny MILF, ready, willing and able to bed a young stud, for her own pleasure. 

"I can see you're surprised," she said, shaking her head. "Am I not allowed to have feelings of that sort?"

"Of course, you are," I replied. "It's just new to me."

"Jeremy, I've done my job," Mom said, confidently. "When your father was alive, I stood by him, when most women wouldn't have. I was faithful, and didn't stray, even when he wasn't. He wouldn't let me have a job, despite being qualified. He didn't let me wear high heels, because it made him feel short. He forbade me to dress in a sexy or feminine way, because he said it was unseemly for a wife and mother to flaunt her body. Yet I stayed, and did my job as a wife. I raised you. You're a grown man. While I'll always be your Mother, you don't need mothering, anymore. I've done my job as your parent. I don't see myself ever being married again, and I'm certainly not having any more children. I'm fifty-one years old, and it's time I lived for me. You're not a child. I'm sure you can understand that."

I didn't immediately respond. It wasn't because I didn't understand. I just wanted to find the right words.

"Mom, you were the best parent I could have ever hoped for," I said softly. "Dad was very lucky to have you, and you're right... it is your turn. You don't owe anyone, including me, an explanation. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you did."

"Thank you, darling," she said, her eyes moist.

"So... what made you decide on cosmetic surgery?" I asked, now genuinely curious.

"Well, that's a story of its own," she smiled, wiping her eyes. "I wanted to rid myself of those last few inches, so I was seriously considering liposuction. Losing weight had left me with some loose skin on my tummy, too, so that's a tuck."

"And, um, the other part?" I asked. "Your breasts?"

"Yes. My breasts," she giggled. "Another casualty of losing weight. You don't remember this, of course, but when I was nursing you, I was quite a bit, um... shall we say larger... than I had been up top. I liked it. So did your father. I'm not sure who drank more of my milk; my beloved son, or my aroused husband. He turned out to be a major boob fancier. Unfortunately, he didn't always fancy mine."

"I didn't know that," I shook my head.

"Anyway, at my age, I didn't want to go through all the pain of surgery more than once," she continued. "So, I had the whole package done at once; suck, tuck, and boob job. At the last appointment before the surgery, I decided to go a bit bigger. What do you think of them?"

She may as well have given me express permission to stare at her chest. We knew the maƮtre de liked them, and the waiter, too. Apparently, my opinion mattered to her. She correctly read my reluctance.

"Oh, come on..." she cajoled. "Pretend I'm not your mother. Do you like my breasts, or not?"

"Alright, I'll tell you," I relented, and let it out. "I think you look fantastic. If you weren't my mother, I'd be all over those like a fat kid on a smartie. Do you think your appearance has had an effect on your success at work?"

"You'd be all over them, huh?" she giggled. "Yes, I'm pretty sure my boobs are helping me sell. I'm not dressing as a nun. They're a part of my tools. I can sell ice to Eskimos."

"Well, male Eskimos, anyway," I laughed.

"A few women, too," she winked.

"Oh, Mom," I smiled. "You're a bad girl, aren't you?"

"Not always, but when I'm bad, I'm better," she added, paraphrasing the infamous Mae West. 

***

For the first week of my visit, I mostly just relaxed, making occasional trips in Mom's Buick to visit some of my old haunts. I was alone through most of the day, as Mom was out at work. 

I found myself trying to picture her, dropping in to talk to some local business owner about their advertising plan, and how they might want to add other media to that plan. I could see her, so professionally dressed, in all aspects but one. Did she start out, as she did when she met me at the airport? Was she fully buttoned up, letting only the size of her breasts entice the client? I imagined her, meeting resistance, and very covertly dispatching first one button, then another, giving the business owner something they would have difficulty saying 'no' to. 

I did wonder just how far she'd go to make a sale. Hanging her tits out to get better service in a restaurant was one thing, but putting a crowbar in someone's wallet was a whole other animal. Getting used to the thought of her as a sexy, buxom older woman was difficult enough. Adding 'slut' to that designation was going to take some effort. 

At home, during the day, I'm ashamed to say I succumbed to curiosity. I lasted a few days before it became unbearable, but eventually I knew I would have to do it.

I'd have to snoop in Mom's bedroom.

Standing in the doorway, I realized I'd been here before. Many years ago, an equally curious young me had taken advantage of solitude to get a first look at women's undergarments. Bras and panties were new to me, and other than the pictures in catalogues, I'd never seen either, let alone touched them. In Mom's drawers, I got my first exposure to them. Mostly utilitarian, and far from sexy, I still found them rather exciting. Holding a bra in my hands for the first time, I rubbed it against my face, and read the tag. 36C. Whatever that meant.

Now, I noticed how much the room had changed. This was truly my Mother's room, no longer that of both my parents. New carpet, new paint, new furniture, and most notably, a new bed that was decidedly not meant for only one. The huge king-sized mattress dominated the room.

Still, habits are hard to break. I had a feeling her lingerie would be in the same drawer, even if the whole dresser was new. I opened the appropriate one, and was greeted by a flash of rainbow colours. My hand extracted a lacey, burgundy bra, and rolled it over. The tag. I needed to know how big she was now.

Oh my god. 34G. My dick twitched.

The drawer next to her bras held panties to match. These were not the plain, white, granny-panties she used to wear. Various styles, cuts and fabrics, there were several thongs among them. My dick twitched again, and a small part of my subconscious tried to remind me the woman I was having mildly sexual thoughts about was my mother.

I sat on the bed, and opened the bedside drawer. A book, and various sundry items. Closing the top one, I opened the lower drawer. My cock woke up fully, beginning to swell.

"Fuck," I whispered, reaching in to pull out some of the contents; Condoms of various brands, lubricants, and several sex toys, including a dildo nearly the size of my forearm. 

Mother or not, I was having a hard time controlling the images that had begun racing through my mind. I could see her, dressed in sexy lingerie, with those big tits barely covered by the cups of her bra, and her ass nearly bare in a thong. She was backing away, beckoning me toward her, onto the bed, where she spread her legs. The tiny thong was tugged aside, and she began to feed the monstrous dildo into her pussy while she moaned in pleasure. 

"I'd rather have a real cock," she pouted, "like yours. I haven't seen you naked since you were a child. How big is your penis now, anyway?"

I shook my head. The room was empty, but my imagination was not, and I started to regret this little investigation of her room. Things were awkward enough before I found out the details of her body and sexual proclivities. Now I knew, and I couldn't un-see it. My cock was almost painfully hard at the pictures in my imagination.

I had no choice but to deal with it. I guessed correctly that Mom's computer might have a few MILF videos saved on it, given that she had admitted to finding them so exciting. They weren't terribly difficult to find, as she had no reason to hide them. My cock was in my hand, and I was getting close to cumming when I found the video that must have been her favourite, based on the play count.

I could understand why she liked it, as it featured a redhead... a MILF named Janet Mason, who was about her age, if somewhat more ripped and less busty. Not that she had small tits, mind you. Watching her enhanced DDs bounce and jiggle as she fucked her young stud on camera was more than enough for me to substitute my mother in her place, leading to a very enjoyable release of sexual tension. The streak of cum ran fully three feet across the kitchen countertop, but was easily cleaned before Mom came home. By the time she arrived, I was relaxing in the backyard, in her hot tub.

"There you are!" she smiled, walking out of the house. Even fully dressed, her high-heeled gait caused a jiggle impossible to ignore. "You know, I haven't used this thing in a while. It looks like a great idea. I'll be right back."

Oh god, please don't tell me she's coming back naked, I thought. Seeing her in a bathing suit would be bad enough. I tried not to imagine what might be her idea of a bathing suit, given her new body. I'm sure it wasn't anything like the conservative ones my father had required. 

The answer didn't take long to become clear. With minutes, Mom was back, toting a tray with two frosty drinks on it. As for her attire, the suit she wore was a navy-blue one-piece that fit her body like a second skin. It was cut high on the hips, but not too low in front, so that only a few inches of cleavage were visible. It looked great on her, and she looked great in it.

"Here you go, honey," she said happily, leaning over to offer me my drink, and a better view of her tits. I took both the glass and the peek, then watched her slip into the water across from me. "Mmmmmm, that does feel good. It was a long day."

"A successful one?" I asked, sipping my drink.

"I think so, but I'm not quite sure," she said softly, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "I actually have to get dressed again, and go back out in an hour or so. I have to take this client to dinner. He's being cagey. He'll only sign if I agreed to go out with him."

"Really?" I asked, watching the bubbling water fountain up around her breasts. It made them quiver. "You're okay with that?"

"It's getting easier," she replied. "Don't worry. I'm not about to let him do anything I don't want him to, and if I get a commission out of it, that's great."

"Uh huh," I nodded. "So, just what is it you want him to do?"

"Well, he's cute, and handsome, and single," she smiled, still with eyes closed. "I can think of plenty of things that might be fun." She opened her eyes, and looked down at the stream of bubbles spitting out the top of her suit. "Hee hee! That tickles! The bubbles are coming up between my boobs!"

I can think of something I'd like to put between those boobs, I thought, refraining from comment. 

***

Laying in my bed... Well, in the bed that was in my former room, which was now the guest room, so had a much larger bed than that of my youth... I stared at the ceiling. My mother was out on what could only be seen as a date, despite her insistence that it was business. Dates, in my experience as a man, were undertaken with one goal in mind. 

Her comments in the tub had done nothing to ease my mind. Nor had her choice of dress for the evening; a slinky, tight, little black number that hugged her curves and made her look like sex on a stick. High heels to match, she was clearly dressing to attract attention from her client, who actually came to pick her up.

He wasn't much older than me. Driving a BMW. Successful looking.

Did I mention he wasn't much older than me? He wasn't. 

I had finally fallen asleep before she got home, but sounds from the hallway woke me. 

First it was just a thump, an indication someone was there, and since I had no reason to fear a burglar, I figured it was her. I was almost ready to get out of bed to see how her 'meeting' went, when I heard her voice.

"Follow me, stud, if you want to play with these," she said quietly, but not quietly enough. There was a pause, then an enthusiastic reply.

"Whoa! You're damned right I want to play with those!" the aforementioned Mr. Stud exclaimed. "Jesus, Olivia! They're even bigger than I thought!"

"Well, get in here, and show me what you've got for me," Mom implored. There was a click, as a door closed... her bedroom door... and I thanked god I hadn't walked out into the middle of that. My imagination was bad enough; there's no way I wanted to actually see my mother and another man preparing to do the nasty.

Or, maybe I did, because my ears were straining to pick up the sounds of sex wafting through the silent house. I heard clearly feminine moans, and obviously masculine groans, before I picked up something that was totally unambiguous.

"Yeah, suck my cock, baby," the male voice grunted. "Damn! You're so fucking hot!"

Well, thank you so much for putting that image in my head, I thought, pulling my hard dick out of my underwear. For the second time today, I was jerking off to images of my naked mother, but this time, I had the benefit of an additional audio track. I listened to them complimenting each other in the next room, and stroked myself slowly, extrapolating the activities with a combination of MILF videos from memory, those from Mom's computer, and the sounds I could decipher.

"Oh god, yes! Fuck me! Gimme that big cock!" Mom growled. My hand sped up for a short time, then slowed to a maintenance pace.

"Oh, shit! I'm cumming!" she gasped, a few minutes later. The declaration was accompanied by a gutteral moan of pleasure, and a few squeals of urgency.

The one that set me off was a couple of minutes later, when I heard her direct her lover again.

"Yeah. Come on, baby. Let me wrap my big tits around your cock, so you can fuck them. I know you want to. Do it. Fuck my tits, and cum all over them."

"Oh, fuck!" I grunted through clenched teeth, as my dick erupted, shooting cum all over myself. Yeah. I liked that idea. I liked it a lot. 

I mopped up the mess, tossing the tissues in the toilet of the en-suite bathroom, and laid down again. I relaxed, taking deep breaths and feeling the post-orgasmic warmth wash over me. The darkness enveloped my mind, and I fell asleep, even as my mother urged her lover to fuck her harder and faster. 

***

The morning sunlight and incessant chirping of birds chiseled their way into my slumbering brain. As my eyes opened and I saw the unfamiliar ceiling... different from mine on the west coast, anyway... I realized where I was, and remembered the events of last night.

I had been spared listening to the extended details of Mom's business dealings by fatigue, but now my curiosity returned full force. Was he still here? 

Well, at least that answer was easily obtained. I opened my door silently, and peeked out. Mom's door was closed, so I stepped out into the hall, and took a few steps toward the rest of the house, when I stepped on something.

Looking down, I saw her bra, tangled in my toes. It was a black one, and probably looked fantastic on her. I stepped around it, leaving it where she discarded it on their hurried path to the bedroom. Ahead was one of her shoes, and then the other. I could picture them arriving, and Mom tempting him in by unzipping her dress, and unhooking her bra, letting her breasts free as an invitation, just in case 'get in here, and show me what you've got for me' wasn't enough.

Pulling the curtains aside, I saw no BMW in the driveway, nor on the street, so I felt pretty certain he was gone. I headed to the kitchen, and started the coffee. I'd let Mom sleep for now. 

I was on my second cup of coffee, and deep into a decision, when I heard her door open. It took a few seconds for her to traverse the house. 

"Good morning, Jeremy," Mom said, walking past me on the way to the coffee pot. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she had her bra in her left hand, presumably having picked it up along the way, and tucked it into the pocket of her shimmery satin robe. From the jiggle under the silvery material, I would guess she wasn't wearing anything else. No panty lines marred the curves of her firm behind. Two bumps poked at the fabric over her breasts. I sat back, behind the table, fighting the urge to just walk over and grab her. 

'Don't think of me as your mother', she had said, when she insisted I give my opinion of her new, buxom profile. Well, it was working, especially after what I heard last night, and who she was being so noisy with. 

"What would you like for breakfast?" Mom asked, taking her seat across from me, coffee cup in hand. She sat very carefully, but her robe still slipped a little, showing me several inches of cleavage, until she adjusted it to cover up.

You. I want you for breakfast, I thought immediately. It surprised me, just how quickly I jumped over that line, blurry as the line was. Yet, she sat, smiling at me, sipping her coffee, while in my head I imagined her screaming with joy as she had last night.

I must have answered her, because she was suddenly up, and bustling around the kitchen, while I sat and watched. She had to re-tie her robe several times, because her ample curves were simply too much for the slippery fabric to contain. Before I knew it, there was a plate of food in front of me, and Mom was back in her place, with a plate of her own.

"I'm starving this morning," she smiled tucking into her serving of bacon and eggs. "I don't know why."

"Really?" I said quietly. "I have a pretty good idea why." 

"I'm sorry... What was that?" she asked, pausing with her fork full.

"I just said I might know why you're hungry," I laughed. "I also heard the guy who you worked up your appetite with. You had fun, didn't you?" 

"You heard us?" she giggled, poking the bacon on her plate. "I'm sorry about that. I think I had a bit too much to drink last night. I didn't mean to be so loud." 

"Well, you weren't the only one being loud," I told her. "Apparently, your friend found your actions very agreeable."

"Oh, god!" she gasped, covering her face with her hands. "Really? You heard that?"

"Mmmmm hmmm," I nodded.

"Fuck!" she groaned.

"Yes, that too," I smiled, enjoying her discomfort a little. It was only fair that she feel what I had been feeling.

The room grew quiet, and we ate in silence for several minutes. I could see the wheels turning in her head, until she finished and picked up her plate, turning her back to me. She set about washing her dishes, and the cooking implements. I sat for a moment, then stood, taking a place behind her.

I put my plate on the counter beside the sink, and leaned close, brushing the hair away from the side of her neck. My right hand came to rest on the side of her hip, and as I caressed the outer edge of her hip and thigh, I kissed her neck.

"Ohhhh, Jeremy," she said softly, her hands bracing against the sink. "I'm not sure that's an appropriate way for a young man to touch his mother."

"Oh, no, I'm sure it's not," I agreed, kissing her neck once more. My left hand landed on her shoulder, and I could feel her shiver. "Definitely not appropriate for a son, but most understandable between a man and a beautiful woman. You asked me not to think of you as my mother. You said I don't need mothering anymore, and you're right. If you were any other woman, I'd be trying to get you into bed."

"But... I'm not any other woman," she breathed, leaning against me. I nuzzled her neck, and she moaned quietly. "It's wrong, Jeremy. It's so wrong. I'm your mother."

"You did your job. Now, you can just be Olivia, a very attractive woman, who has caught my eye," I replied, still pecking at her neck. My right hand slid aft, palming her firm behind, while my left went forward, wrapping my arm around her waist. "I love you, Mom. I always have, and I always will. I think we could be great together, but if you don't think we should go further, we won't. I'll let you go, and none of this ever happened. Is that what you want? If you want me to stop, I'll stop. It's up to you, Olivia. Am I stopping?"

I held her, one arm snug around her sculpted midsection, and one hand on her ass, caressing softly, awaiting her answer. I kissed her again, just under her ear, causing another shiver of arousal. I knew the battle she was waging. Until this morning, I was fighting it myself. My left hand slid upward, until I cupped her right breast for the first time. She moaned again, and her head lolled back.

"Oh, fuck... No," she shuddered. "Don't stop. Take me, Jeremy. Take me to bed, and make me yours. I need you."

"That's my girl," I smiled, as she turned in my grasp. Her movement dragged the front of her robe open, and I caught a brief glimpse of her spectacular breasts, bare and so very alluring, before she buried her face in my chest. I wrapped both arms around her, holding her close, and felt her body flinch as she sobbed. I let her weep for a minute, rubbing her back and shoulders, until she finished, and remained silent in my arms.

"What was that about?" I asked, touching her chin with my hand. She tilted her head back, and smiled up at me.

"I just realized..." she began, her eyes moist, but happy. "I said I didn't want to be married again, and I don't. I said I wasn't having any more children, and I can't. But..." she smiled again, "... I just realized that I DID want to be loved, again, and it occurred to me that I already was, by a wonderful man, who would never hurt me. You said if I were any other woman, you'd be all over me? Well, if you were any other man, I'd let you. In fact, I would probably be chasing you... so strong, and handsome, and caring. I can't believe some other woman hasn't snapped you up already."

She leaned back a bit, exposing her chest to my eyes again. Her breasts were incredible, and with the red hair and new, slimmer body, she really was a whole new woman. Still my mother, but so very different than the one I remembered.

"So, if I'm going to be 'just Olivia', and you can be 'just Jeremy'," she giggled, watching my eyes roam her purchased pulchritude, "I think we should see just how good Olivia and Jeremy can be together."

"And just how bad Olivia can be?" I asked, smiling down at her.

"Oh, yes... That too," she breathed, tiptoeing up. "I can be very good at being bad."

I met her halfway, pressing my lips to hers. I'd kissed my mother thousands of times, but always on the cheek. Her lips were soft, and moist, and they kissed back, parting eagerly to allow our tongues to explore, while my hands did the same, grasping and groping her everywhere. She moaned, and returned the favour, grabbing my ass.

"Mmmmmm, bedroom, now," she sighed, when we paused for breath.

"Absolutely," I replied, and scooped her up in my arms. She giggled, and rested her head against me.

"How very gallant," she smiled. "Your mother taught you well."

"Yes," I chuckled. "She's a very modest woman. I'm not sure she knows just how beautiful she is, and always has been."

"Maybe you could tell her, in some subtle fashion," she giggled. "Or, you could just take her to bed, and fuck her brains out. Either one would be fine." 

"It's always good to have options," I nodded, carefully weaving through doorways and across the house. Down the hallway, we arrived at her bedroom door. "Last chance to change your mind," I told her.

"After you carried me to this point?" she asked, with a raise of her eyebrow. "No one has done that since your father, and he only did it over the threshold. Jeremy, you're just confirming my choice by being so considerate, and giving me a chance to retreat. I don't need one. I'm sure. Olivia is absolutely certain... but your Mother is a little nervous. She hopes she doesn't disappoint you."

"As if you could," I smiled, stepping into the room. I gently placed her on her feet, and her robe chose this moment to slip off her shoulders. She made no effort to stop it, letting it pool around her ankles, to stand nude before me.

"This is me," she said softly, her voice a quiver of desire. 

If I wasn't already hard, that would have done it for me. She sure didn't look like a fifty-one year-old mother of one, and I, being the one, took in the view with a curious mixture of excitement and guilt. Excitement was winning. 

Being a young man in the internet age, I'd seen more than a few minutes of porn, so had also seen a few scars from the surgeon's knife. But, as medical science had advanced, so had the techniques of those surgeons. The scars got smaller, and were better hidden. By doing it all at once, Mom had only one scar; the long one, from hip to hip, caused by the tummy tuck. Even that one was very thin, and faded. It would normally be hidden by her panties, or a bathing suit, but since she was wearing nothing but a nervous smile, it was visible, if only slightly. 

She was beautiful, even more so nude. The bra she had worn held her breasts high, and made them look unnaturally round, but without it, they hung just a little, taking on a more natural teardrop shape. Still huge, of course, and oh so enticing, especially when crowned, as they were, with the large, dark areolas and thick, erect nipples of a past mother. I didn't remember suckling from those nipples as an infant, but I looked forward to doing it now. 

Right now.

I stepped closer, and knelt, bringing her breasts to a convenient tasting level, which I immediately took advantage of, grabbing both large globes with my hands and latching onto her left nipple. 

"Mmmmmm, that's my baby boy," Mom sighed, ruffling my hair with her fingers as she pulled me tight to her body. "I love being suckled. Always have." 

Moored to her left breast, I gnawed and sucked her nipple furiously, bringing it to its fullest excited length. I loved the rubbery feel of her erect nub between my teeth, and under my tongue. I could hear her moaning softly in enjoyment, especially when my hand released her right breast and slid down her side, coming to rest on the side of her thigh. As my hand slid around and up between her legs, she shifted position slightly, making room for my fingers by spreading her stance wider. What I felt was nearly enough to make me abandon her succulent breast to investigate further, but I remained moored to her nipple happily.

Mom's pussy was very wet, and very smooth, and her lips were very loose and floppy. My fingers explored the warm, wet cleft, and found the large, stiff nub that was her clitoris. When I touched it, Mom's legs quivered, and she moaned deeply.

"Oh fuck, if you're gonna do that, I might need to sit down," she groaned. "My legs are a little shaky when I'm excited, and believe me, I'm very excited." 

Mom pulled back slightly, extracting her nipple from my lip lock with a distinct 'pop'. She perched on the edge of the bed, and spread her legs for my viewing pleasure. I smiled.

I'd had a girlfriend once, who set me straight about the colloquial terminology for a woman's sexual apparatus. Breasts, for example, were titties when they're small. Boobs, jugs, knockers... that sort of thing... were designations reserved for the larger versions, and she proudly sported a pair that qualified, as did Mom's new pair, as knockers. That girlfriend also had a similar rating for vaginal attributes. A girl with thin, tight lips on her sex had a pussy; cute, feminine, and conservative. She had the other end of the scale, as did Mom; a vagina surrounded by thick, dangling, distended lips, and dripping with arousal. Add a clit of epic proportions, and you have not a pussy, but a cunt.

Oh, what a cunt.

Mom leaned back on her elbows, and lifted her spread legs high. I looked up from between her legs, and saw her smile. 

"Do you like my vagina? Would you like to taste it?" she purred.

"Oh, yeah!" I nodded, shuffling forward on my knees. I leaned close, inhaling her surprisingly sweet scent, while I gave her juicy gash a closer inspection. I had never seen anything so sexy, even in movies. Her inner labia pouted out, long, swollen, and nearly purple in colour. Not a hair was in sight. A small patch of bright pink interior peeked out through the gaping, dripping wet lips. I just had to lick it. 

"Mmmmmm, yes darling, lick Momma's pussy, like a good boy," she moaned, laying back on the bed. She crossed her ankles behind my head, and grabbed a handful of my hair, just to be sure I wasn't going anywhere.

Like that could happen...

Mom's syrupy juices were delicious, and I dipped my tongue as deep inside her as it would reach, opening her lips wider with each lick. She continued to moan softly, enjoying the attention, eagerly awaiting my eventual touch to her clit, which was standing up, begging for contact. I made her wait.

"God, Jeremy, that feels good, but... Oh, please... Do it... My clit, please? Suck on my clit? Oh, honey, I need it so bad," she pleaded, writhing under my tongue.

Well, all you had to do is ask...

I swirled my tongue around the stiff bud, and pulled it up between my lips.

"Oh, fuck! YESSSS!" she hissed, through clenched teeth. Her grip on my hair tightened. "Yes! That's what Momma likes! Momma likes to cum. Make me cum, Jeremy. Eat my pussy, and make me cum. I want to cum all over your face. Would you like Momma to cum all over your face?"

"Mmmmm hmmm," I moaned, nibbling her clit dutifully. I slipped a finger into her drenched cunt, then added a second, slowly sliding them in and out while I gave her clit a severe tongue lashing. Amongst her moans, I could hear quiet words of encouragement and urgency. Her thighs quivered, and I knew she was getting close. Those words of encouragement grew into screams.

"Oh god! Oh yes! Fuck, yes, do it! Uh huh, just like that. A little more. Oh, fuck, honey, I'm gonna cum! Oh god! Fuck, so good! I'm gonna cum! Oh! Oh! Oh! OH! OH YEAH! I'M CUMMING, BABY! YOU'RE MAKING MOMMA CUM! OH FUCK! UHHN! UHNNN! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK, YESSSSSS!"

Mom's body twisted as the orgasm hit, but she kept her grip on my head, and I kept my grip on her clit, even when she gushed sweet juices. Only after her body wilted did I let go, and lick her clean, perking up her body at her chest, which rose and fell with each desperate breath. Her nipples looked like hat pegs, and I kissed my way up her body to resume exploring them when I was done between her legs.

Done for the moment, at least. I still had every intention of introducing her cunt to my extremely hard cock.

Mom's hands pulled at my shirt, wanting to feel bare skin against her, and I quickly yanked it off over my head before returning to her breasts.

"Mmmmmm, you like them, huh?" she asked.

"Not at all," I quickly smiled, and latched on again. I just loved gnawing on the rubbery teat. Perhaps I did as a baby. Maybe someday I'd ask. 

While I nursed, Mom reached around, running her hand up my back from my ass to my shoulders, then back down. On the return trip, her fingers slid under the waistband of my shorts, coming to rest on my bare rump.

"You're certainly not a skinny little boy, anymore," she smiled. "I saw your chest in the tub yesterday. You're in great shape, honey."

"So are you," I replied, switching breasts.

"Thank you dear," she giggled, "but I paid for my shape. I've got receipts, and everything. You like what you see?"

"Mom, I love what I see, and I love you," I said softly, looking up from her chest so she knew I meant it.

"And I love you, honey," she nodded. "I'd love to see what you've got for me. Please? Show me, honey?"

Mom's eyes fell to the bulge in my shorts as I stood up from between her legs. I saw them open wider in surprise, and she smiled.

"My god, Jeremy, really? Is that all you?" she asked, putting one hand to her mouth. The other instinctively reached out, and palmed the warm lump. "May I?"

"Take my cock out, Mom," I told her. "I want you to."

Her hands shook a little, as she unsnapped the front of my shorts. She rolled them down over my hips, inch by inch, carefully freeing my shaft, until it sprung loose, long and straight, inches from her face. 

"Oh, Jeremy," she whispered, and inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of the pre-cum that leaked freely from the tip of my cock. "I'm really going to like this. Damn, honey! Your father was never this big. Where'd it come from?"

"Don't know," I replied, flexing it and bouncing it in front of her eyes, which never left it. She was mesmerized. "Don't care. It's here, and it's yours."

"Yes," she smiled, licking her lips. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or the dick, as the case may be. Such a nice dick."

Mom wrapped her hand around the thick shaft, and pumped it a few times, then squeezed. A fresh drop of clear fluid oozed out, and she sighed.

I sighed too, as her mouth opened wide to swallow me. I felt her tongue swirl around the head, and she sucked hard, pulling me deeper into her warm, wet embrace. She began to slowly bob her head, while I stood, fingers entwined in her luscious red hair.

"Yes, Olivia," I groaned. "Suck my cock." 

She paused, and pulled back for a moment, leaving my saliva coated shaft for her hand to stroke.

"Mom. Call me Mom. It's so nasty. Besides, you made Momma cum with your tongue. It's only fair that Momma return the favour. Cum for me, honey. Let Momma suck your big, hard cock, until you shoot that lovely, sticky juice down my throat. I want my baby boy's cum in my mouth. You can do that for me, right?"

She didn't wait for an answer, especially one so blatantly obvious. Her mouth once again enveloped my cock, managing to gulp down almost half of it before it hit the back of her throat. Subsequent attempts claimed a little more, as I shoved past her gag reflex. At last, she took the whole thing, her lips tight around the base, sucking furiously.

"Oh, Mom, you wicked, wicked woman... That feels incredible!" I grunted, fucking her face gently. Her hands, no longer needed on my cock, grabbed my ass, directing the pace of my strokes into her throat. "So fucking good. I'm getting close, Mom. Are you ready?" 

She squealed in delight, and patted my ass, telling me to go for it. With her head in my firm grasp, I humped her mouth, feeling saliva drooling out past her lips, and dripping off my balls. The fuse was lit.

"GNNAAAHHHHHNNNNNNNOHMYGODDDD!" I groaned, spewing deep down her throat. She pushed back, sliding my cock partially out, and milking it with her hands while her cheeks hollowed with her effort. Her eyes looked up into mine, so blue and perfect, while I exploded, over and over, filling her mouth with hot semen that she swallowed happily. Amid my noises of release, I could hear her moaning her enjoyment. Finally, I was empty, but she kept sucking. If anything, she sucked harder, driving me past that oversensitive point. I realized at last what she was doing; keeping me hard. It worked.

"Oh god, that was so hot!" she gasped, laying back now. A thick string of spit hung from my cock. "Fuck me, honey! I need it so bad! Fuck Momma hard!"

My cock seemed to have a guidance system of its own, and easily found her juicy receptacle, sliding deep inside her with one long stroke.

"Yes, that's it baby," she moaned, wrapping her legs around my waist. "Fill Momma's pussy with that beautiful cock. It fits so nicely. Now fuck me, honey. Fuck me hard, and fast, and deep, until I scream."

No son ever had such pleasurable chores to perform. I did as she asked, pounding her into the mattress, while she screeched in delight, and clawed at my back. I felt her body quake as she came again, and again.

"Oh god, yes, honey, you're so fucking good!" she groaned. "Don't stop! I love it!"

I loved it, too, but I felt like a change in position might be in order. I pulled out... she whimpered... and directed her into position on all fours. Her whimpers changed to moans of anticipation, as I lined up and skewered her again. I grabbed her hips, and resumed thrashing her cunt as before. 

"Yeah, that's it, baby! God! You go so deep like this!" she gasped, lowering her upper body to the bed, leaving her ass high. "I'm gonna cum again!"

From my point of view, well, I just loved fucking doggy style. It felt fantastic, of course, as her slippery pussy gripped the full length of my cock in a rippling, muscular embrace. The added benefit, obviously, was that I could watch my penis spitting those thick, floppy lips wide open. I always found that sight very exciting, even when the pussy in question wasn't that of my mother.

This? Well, this was off the charts. If she hadn't given me that spectacular blowjob earlier, I'm certain I would have already pumped her full of incestuous semen. As it was, I managed to last this long.

But no longer. 

"Fuck! I'm cumming!" I groaned. Mom lifted her shoulders, pushing back against me while I spurted deep inside her.

"Mmmmmm, yes, cum in Momma's pussy," she moaned, undulating her hips against mine. "So nice and warm."

I was done, and I withdrew, collapsing on the bed beside her. She rolled on her back, dipping her fingers into her spunk filled vagina, and licking them clean. 

"I, um, I think I've blown my nomination for mother of the year," she panted, catching her breath. Her chest heaved and quivered, attracting my hands.

"Well, you'd certainly get my vote," I laughed, palming her tits.

"I can't believe I just fucked my son," she smiled, rolling on her side, and propping her head up on her elbow. "Even worse, I liked it. I can't wait to do it again. I must be the worst mother in history. Good thing no one else knows."

Her hand reached out, and grabbed my sticky, exhausted cock, stroking it gently. It twitched in response to her touch. 

"Damn. Such a nice, big cock," she moaned. "You wanna go again, right?"

"I might need a few minutes, but hell yeah!" I grinned. "Just try and stop me. I'm gonna fuck you all day and all night, until I have to go."

I watched her smile fade, as she realized I was only here for another two weeks. Her happiness had an expiry date.

Or maybe not. I rolled on top of her, while she looked away, trying not to cry. 

"Mom, look at me please?" I asked. It took her a few seconds to gather the courage, but she did meet my gaze. "I do have to go back, but I don't have to stay there," I told her. "If you want me to, I can move back here. I'll just restart my business in this area. Would you like me to come home?"

I saw the joy return to her face, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me tight against her body. She grabbed my head and kissed me hard, sucking my tongue passionately, and moaning softly. Her kiss was aflame with desire, and my cock responded, stiffening rapidly.

"Yes, please," she smiled, when we at last parted. "I'd like that, very much. There's one other thing you can do for me, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Anything," I nodded. "Anything at all."

"More," she moaned, spreading her legs wide again. "I want more. Fuck me, honey. Stick that big, beautiful cock in my pussy, and make me scream again, and never stop. Can you do that for me?" Her hand reached down, finding my now fully erect cock, and pointing it at the target. She arched her eyebrows suggestively. "That, and take out the garbage."

"Right," I smiled, pushing inside her smoothly. "I'll get to the garbage, later." 

"Mmmmmm, yes," Mom sighed. "Much, much later!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeremy and his mother, Olivia would seem to have some catching up to do.

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