It had been about 3 months since I had begun having sex with my step-son, Jason. His amazingly large cock was pleasuring me regularly. My husband, John, had fallen into a secondary role. We still engaged in sex, both alone, and together with Jason, but his role was always subordinate. I was getting fucked more often than I ever had before in my life, and I loved it -- even though some days it was hard to get any strength in my legs, or avoid the soreness an 11" young cock can inflict. But the alternative was what I had before -- a rather dull sex life, nothing spectacular, with an average-hung middle age husband who sometimes suffered from erectile dysfunction and was a serial quick-cummer.
The "drawback" to having a sexual relationship with your step-son, is that at that young age, all they think about is sex, and once they know they have a free ticket, they'll use it anytime they can. Jason had gotten considerably bolder in the last 3 months. He would regularly grope me, fondle me, and hop into the shower with me or any other act that popped into his head at the spur of the moment. I was a free piece of ass at his disposal, almost 24/7. John usually left for work early, and not long after, Jason would crawl into bed with me and awaken me with his kisses and tit-sucking or sometimes just push his massive cock into my pussy, giving me a painful, yet arousing, reminder of our newfound relationship.
Don't get me wrong -- I fucking loved it. I'd never felt so wanted and desired in my life. And how many 50+ year old married women have a young stallion knocking down their doors to fuck them morning, noon, and night? No -- I was loving it, despite the physical exhaustion, the well-worn swollen pussy, sore jaw, aching nipples from his bites and pinches, and even some bruising from some of his more 'enthusiastic' times.
One morning, as Jason was eating breakfast at the kitchen table and I was drinking my coffee -- after one of our regular morning romps -- Jason was skimming his laptop and suddenly paused, then looked over the table at me. "Hey mom."
"Yes, Jason?"
"You like it when dad and I fuck you together? I mean -- getting two dicks at a time like that?"
I paused, looked up from my coffee, and gave him a soft smile, "I do, yes. It's great having the attention of two handsome men." I sipped my coffee and looked back down at my phone that I'd been scanning the latest shoe sales on.
"Cool," he said, and then returned to scanning his laptop screen.
I thought to myself, "What was that about?" Maybe he wanted me more to himself? Doubtful -- he already had nearly free reign to have me anytime he wanted, and took full advantage of it. Maybe he didn't like John's presence as much as I thought he was okay with it. I'd have to just see how things went and, if this situation was getting uncomfortable for him, perhaps we'd have to figure out how to repair it.
About a week later, John had to take a trip out of town for a couple nights. I drove him to the airport, and as he left the car he leaned over to me to kiss me goodbye. He kissed me passionately, his hand reaching down and up my skirt to finger my pussy.
"Don't let my boy wear this out too much while I'm gone." He smiled as his lips left mine.
I smiled back, "It's the monster you created, babe -- I can't help it if I love his big, thick, young cock in my mouth and pussy every chance I get." He smiled. I reached over to him and squeezed his crotch hard. "Besides, when the alternative is this little stick -- you can't blame me for wanting a REAL man inside me, can you baby?" I felt his cock stiffen as I spoke those words, knowing how much his beta-role turned him on.
"You are such a whore -- I love it." He laughed.
"I am... for him." I winked back. He leaned in again and kissed me deeply, giving my breasts a hearty squeeze before opening the door. "Gotta go or I'll miss my flight! Love you!"
"Love y-..." SLAM. The door closed before I could finish my sentence, and I watched as he ran off into the terminal -- likely with a little hard on.
I got home and made myself some coffee and surfed the internet for a while. As the day went on, I realized it was getting to be close to the time Jason would be home. I knew -- especially with John gone out of town -- that the boy would come home and want sex. Not that we didn't have sex when John was around, but I just could imagine he'd want to take advantage of an empty house and have his way with me. So, I went upstairs and picked out a sexy outfit -- hose and garters, and a blue and black bustier with matching thong -- to greet him with. I drew myself a bath and got in.
As I lay there, I thought about Jason coming home. How would he want it? Would he take me hard, or would he be gentle and romantic? Either way was fine with me -- I loved it no matter what. Although sometimes hard meant some painful walking the rest of the night or the next day. I started fingering my pussy in the tub. I closed my eyes, imagining sucking on his massive young cock, starting when it was fully soft and feeling it engorge in my mouth. I imagined my mouth stretching wide to take him in and suckling him softly and gently, until he was close to coming, then bobbing my head on the huge rod until his big load shot off down my throat. Before long, I was shaking in the tub as I rocked out a good orgasm. Afterwards, I laid there relaxing.
At some point, I nodded off for a few minutes and was awoken by music. Jason was in his room, his stereo up loud with some tune he apparently liked. I hadn't heard him come in, and I cursed myself for having fallen asleep and not been downstairs to greet him "properly" as I had intended to.
