Bonding Modern Era 03

I give one last look at into the bedroom where my husband and his grandmother were wrapped around each other, consumed by love and lust.

As I close the bedroom door and walked away, the weight of the emptiness inside me feels too heavy. I had just given up my magic bond with my husband so his grandmother could bond with him. A gift from me to her.

In the world where women could bond with any man, but only one man at a time, and could command him to cum anytime anywhere, my bloodline is special. I can bond with multiple men. And for someone like me, losing a bond, even if willingly, takes a massive emotional toll.

The void inside me needs to filled. Still naked, as I always am when at home, my feet automatically take me to my son's room. Finding it empty only adds to my desperation. Sighing, I look around at the untidy room, and begin picking clothes from the floor and throwing them in the laundry basket. After a thought, I pick my son's t-shirt and put it on.

The shirt is too tight over my 34D, and only comes down to my midriff. But covering myself wasn't the point. Right now, I crave physical connection and smelling my son on me is the next best thing.

I decide to wait for my son in his bed. What twenty-year old wouldn't want to come home and find his mother sprawled in his bed, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else? But the cries of pleasure from the next room is making me more needy by the second. Any other day, I'd have joined my husband and his grandmother. But not that day. I want it to be a special day for those two.

Unable to ignore the moans anymore, I push myself off the bed to look for my son's headphone. It's noise cancellation might do the trick. That is, if I find the headphones. "Ugh..." escapes my lips when I fail to find it. Well, I decide to wait for my son downstairs, in the living room.

I pick a sharpie from my son's table, and leave the room. Tweaking my nipples with one hand, and with other, fucking my pussy slowly with the sharpie, I go down the hallway, down the stairs, and slump onto the living room couch.

A noise from the kitchen, like a cupboard was closed. I sit up, my ears at full attention. I walk around the couch to peek into the kitchen.

My son! He's already home!

I pull the sharpie out of my pussy, let it fall to the ground, and rush to my son.

"Mom, I thought you were up--" he begins to say, but his words get interrupted by my mouth on his.

I kiss him, with all the love of a mother, and with all the lust of a sex starved woman.

The dynamics of the kiss with my son is different compared to me kissing other men. The only way I could explain it is... with others, I drank their kiss, but with my son, I feed him my kiss. I know it makes no sense when I try to put my feelings into words.

I snake my tongue into my son's mouth, feeling his warm, wet tongue dance around mine. When I pull away, I flick my tongue on his lower lip, take a deep breath, and kiss him again.

With my mouth still on him, I move my son away from the kitchen counter and towards the dining table. Breaking the kiss, I push him onto a chair and stand with my legs on either side of his.

My son's face is just a few inches away from my glistening, heat emanating pussy. His eyes scale up my 5'10 body barely covered by his t-shirt, and meets my eyes.

"Mom... you have that look on you," he says.

"Oh..." I say, grinning. A wicked grin. I take off the t-shirt and throw it away. "And what kind of look is that?"

"The look that says you're hungry for cum."

I wrap my arms around his neck, and lower myself on his lap. I hump him once, rubbing my pussy on the bulge in his pants.

"And what's wrong with that look?" I ask.

"Nothing, except that I was on my way out to meet some friends at the bar."

"Mommy can make better drink than any bar," I say, lowering my head for another kiss. But instead of kissing, I hover just above his lips, and drool into his mouth.

"You like my drink, don't you?" I say. I hump him again, this time slower but pressing my pussy down harder. I feel his jeans rubbing on my naked pussy. "I'll make you an even better drink if you put your cock in my..." I lean closer to his ear and whisper "...Mommy's cunt."

I feel my son shiver.

He tries to kiss me, but I pull back, teasing him. Then I say, "Drink..." as I stick my tongue out and dip it into my son's mouth.

And drink, he did. He suckled on my tongue hungrily. After a long kiss, we pull away, panting.

"Mom, I'm saving up for my girlfriend," he says. "You promised her you'd let me creampie her--"

"Cum..." I say. His cock began throbbing and pulsing in his jeans as he spurts out his cum. He closes his eyes and buries his face between my breasts.

I had just invoked my magical bond with my son and commanded him to orgasm. And his body had obeyed. I feel his hot breath and muffled moans, feel his cock bulge pulse under my pussy, and feel his hands grip my ass tighter.

"There it is," I say. "Cum for Mommy. Don't hold back. Your cum belongs to me."

When his orgasm subsides, my son lifts his head to meet my eyes. I keep his face still nestled in my valley, so his chin is now between her breasts. I admire his handsome face. It's so much like his father.

"You're bonded with me," I say, more to myself than to my son. "I have you. You're mine."

My words must have clicked something in his mind, because my son's expression changes to concern. He looks at the ceiling. The master bedroom is right above the kitchen.

"I saw great-gran's car outside, so I assumed you guys are in your bedroom," he says.

"Yes, she is upstairs with your dad," I say, combing my son's hair with my fingers.

"Did you give up your bond with dad?" he asks, cautiously.

My face shrinks. "Yes..." I say.

"Oh mom, you must be devastated," he says, and raises his head to kiss me.

I bend my neck to meet his lips. This time, the kiss is slow and passionate and full of love rather than lust. We take turns sucking on each other's lower lips and tasting each other's mouth. His tongue slips into my mouth and I accept it and keep it there for a few seconds. It feels comforting, as I melt on my son.

When we end the kiss, we stay close, silent and breathing the same air.

"I wanted to let your great-gran bond with your dad once again and to relive their passionate memories," I say. "I'll take him back once she leaves tomorrow."

"That explains you being extra touchy about my cum."

I smile and comb his hair in a motherly fashion. "Never tell me not to make you cum. You're mine, baby."

My son licks my cleavage a few times then bites on the spot. That's his way of marking me.

I respond with humping him.

My pussy reminds me I'm still hungry and it needs a cock. I lift myself to undo the buttons on his jeans. He pushes up to his feet, lifting me by my ass. I wrap my legs around his bare waist and pull him for another kiss. The motherly love is already getting overshadowed by my carnal lust.

My son kicks his jeans and underwear away, kneels down, and continues kissing as he places me on my back on the kitchen hardwood floor. His cock is already hard again and is poking my pussy.

I use my legs to pull him in me, slowly, feeling his cock open my lips and push past, into my warm and wet and hungry pussy. I pull him in me until our bodies are pressing tight against each other. I can feel his heart beat against mine, feel his warm breath on my face, and we stay like that, eyes closed, lips touching and savoring the moment.

"You're home," I whisper. "You're in mommy's pussy. You're home."

My son begins his thrusts. It starts slow, but slowly he increases the pace.

My moans get louder and louder. There is no need to hold them back. "Yes, come home, baby." I say, out of breath. "Come home to me. Deeper. Call me, baby."

"Mom... oh mom..." he says, matching his thrusts.

"Keep calling me. Don't stop."

"Mom... mom..."

Hearing my son call me with overflowing lust sends tingles through me, and I squirm under his weight. I'm getting ready to tug the magic bond with my son, and feel him cum in the deepest part of me. Through the fog of lust clouding my mind, my son's words comes, seemingly distant.

"Mom... make me go primal," he says.

The very magic that gives me the special ability to bond with multiple men, also gives me the ability to reach into men, loosen their inhibitions, and bring out their innermost primal nature. Once unleashed, I would have to brace through the rough wild fucking. There would be no channeling the raw lust, no controlling my feral son. Good for me, I'm made for roughness. But not so good for my son. The magic would leave a physical toll on him. He would take days to recover his sexual appetite. For all practical purposes, he would be sexually useless for the next few days.

Part of me wants to use the magic bond, but another part calls me 'selfish'. My son was looking forward to seeing his girlfriend. I couldn't do that to them.

My son picks up on my inner turmoil. "It's okay, mom," he says between thrusts. "You need this... my girlfriend... will understand."

I hesitate.

"Do it, bitch..." he says. "Let me treat you... like you're some whore in heat."

My son always knew the loveliest thing to say. That makes up the decision for me. All my hesitation melts away and I prepare for the wild fucking to come.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down. His mouth is now breathing against my neck. I tighten my legs around his waist, stopping his thrusts.

I lick his ear once as I mentally reach for the bond, and start pulling it. "Let go of your inhibitions, baby. Let go of shame. Feel my lust flow into you. Feel your raw manly physical strength. Overpower me. Feel my lust, son." I emphasize the word 'lust' and 'son'.

The magic are not yet complete, and already, I could feel its effect on my son. His breathing gets heavier. He's grunting now. His hot breath against my neck is now mixed with spittle.

"Feel my lust flow into you, son. Feel my lust flow into you, son." And then, I complete the magic. "Come son, rape your whore mother's cunt."

My son snaps. All of his remaining self-control turns into pure animalistic urge to fuck. He bites my shoulder, trying to break free, trying to thrust his hard cock deeper and harder into his mother.

I groan with pleasure, but manage to keep him pressed against me. That did little to stop my son from his attempts to fuck me. Even his incomplete attempts at humping are strong enough that the two of us begin to slide on the hardwood floor with every thrust. A few times, lifts the both of us and slams me on the floor as he thrusts into me.

He thrashes, growls, continues his humping, and finally manages to free his neck from my arms. His face is full of primal lust. He grabs me by the hair and yanks my head to one side. With his other hand, he grabs my breast and pulls it the opposite way.

I scream, then it turns into laughter. "Yes!... Harder!"

Pleasure is coursing through me. Every inch of me feels my son's power and roughness. I try to stop us from sliding further on the floor but I fail. His need to go deeper into me is pushing us towards the kitchen counter. I lift my hands to stop my head from hitting the lower cupboard. The act exposes my armpits and my son bends down to bite.

He is fucking me with long rapid thrusts, like a machine with no regard of the fleshy hole under him. Each thrust sends shivers through me, shakes every part of my body, and makes me yearn for more. I shout encouragement, with no care of who might listen. Let them hear.

Then his body tenses. With one last deep thrust, my son's rock hard cock goes all the way into me.

I moan aloud as I hit my orgasm. At the same time, hot cum pumps out of my son's cock and into the deepest part of me. My pussy drank it all. I can feel his cock throb and pulse. Like a second heart beating inside my pussy.

Finally, my son collapses on me. His cock is still twitching and spitting the last few load of cum. I wrap my arms and legs around him, and the two of us remain like that for seconds and minutes, gasping of air, until he passes out from exhaustion.

I slowly slide out from under him and stand up. Wobbling a bit, I make my way to the living room, my pussy leaking a trail of mixed cum on the floor.

I bring two cushions and a thin blanket from couch. Placing a cushion under my son's head, I was about to lay down, but remember something. I crawl on all fours to the dining table where my son had kicked off his clothes. I pick his underwear and study the puddle of cum from earlier.

I bring the underwear back to my sleeping son and lay down beside him. Throwing the blanket over the both of us, I admire my son's handsome face. A soft kiss on his lips, and I rest my head on his chest. I then put the cum stained part of the underwear into my mouth, suckle on it, and with another hand grab my son's soft, slimy cock. Listening to his breathing and heartbeat, I too fall asleep.

I feel satisfied... for now.