The following story is a complete work of fiction and fantasy. All characters involved in sexual activity are over the age of 18. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Thank you for reading; and please take the time to vote, the authors do appreciate it.
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Elliott Cox would have liked nothing more than to quietly go home. Just go home, go to his room, and jerk off a load fantasizing about his mother. It was Friday afternoon, and he wanted to get started. He wanted to see how many loads he could pump out thinking about his mom before he had to go back to school Monday morning.
He knew he'd be making good use of his mother's bra and panties that he'd stolen from the laundry hamper the day before. He was already picturing running his tongue up the inside of those silky panties, drawing out as much of her sweet nectar as he could. This was Elliott's main fantasy, the one that drove him crazy—eating out his mother's perfect pussy for hours on end. He loved watching porn videos where sexy MILFs were lying back, their legs spread wide open, while a younger male was on his knees between those sexy legs, his face and tongue buried in that hot, mature cunt.
This is what Elliott dreamed of more than anything else, servicing his mother orally, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. And as far as he was concerned, she didn't have to do a thing for him in return, other than let him pleasure her, and allow him to feed from her flowing juices. He was fine with that. And even though his mother was the sexiest woman he'd ever seen, a gorgeous woman who he knew any man would love to have his way with, he knew that slavishly servicing her ripe mature pussy would be enough for him—more than enough. He'd worship that hot wet cunt as long as she'd let him, with nothing in return for him other than the perverse gratification he'd get from pleasing her.
He loved everything about his mother, from her honey-blonde hair and pretty face to her massive 34E tits, from her waspish waist and sensually-flared hips, to her curvy bum and full creamy thighs, all the way down to her dimpled knees, toned calves, and slender ankles. Even her dainty little feet were sexy, but he knew it was that mysterious pussy hidden beneath her clothes that he'd spend all his time worshipping.
One of his favorite fantasies was coming home from school—on a day just like this—to find his mother in the kitchen waiting for him, dressed in a tight black turtleneck sweater. The sweater would be molded to those amazing tits of hers, the vertical ribs of the turtleneck flowing in and out sensually around the pronounced mounds of her huge breasts. That sweater would be accompanied by a gray, slim-fitting business skirt that ended at mid-thigh, giving him a teasing glimpse of those lush, full thighs of hers. When it came to those thighs, he just knew that the skin of the inside of them would be luxuriously soft, just like a baby's bottom. Her tanned legs would be bare all the way down, and he always pictured them with some kind of cream on them, which would give them a subtle oily sheen that made them look dead sexy. Her feet would be clad in 4" high-heeled pumps with wickedly-pointed toes—shoes that would make his cock hard just by looking at them.
"Oh, you're finally home from school," she'd say as he'd walk into the house, setting down his knapsack and joining her in the combination kitchen, dining room, and family room. She'd sidle over to the dining room table as she talked, a lock of lustrous blonde hair falling provocatively over one eye. Her hand would come up and brush it back as she smiled at him coyly, the look in her eyes telling him she knew every lurid thought that went on in that perverted young mind of his.
"I...yes, Mom, I came home right away, just as you like," Elliott would reply, his eyes roaming hungrily up and down over his mother's stunning body, the tight sweater and skirt emphasizing her shapely hourglass figure. He could see the outline of her heavily-structured bra beneath the sweater, but even with a bra on, her big nipples were still casting teasing shadows on the tightly-stretched black fabric, sending a little jolt of arousal to his midsection. He'd never seen any woman with tits as perfect as his mother's.
"That's a good boy," she'd say, shifting around so her backside rested on the edge of the table, her straightened arms supporting her as she leaned back slightly. Facing directly at him, she'd place her sexy high heels a little more than shoulder width apart, causing the skirt to be drawn tightly across her full thighs, the hem provocatively rising up an inch or two. "Would you like your after school snack now?"
She'd accompany her question by giving Elliott a bewitchingly teasing look, which sent shivers tripping down his spine. He could feel his heart pounding with anticipation as he melted under her penetrating gaze, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Yes, please."
His mother would smile, a sinfully wicked look on her face. "All right then." She'd shift back on the table, perching her bum fully on the edge. Elliott stood perfectly still and watched, breathing now in ragged little gasps as she looked up at him and beckoned him with a crooked finger. "You know what to do."
Elliott would obediently nod and step forward, reaching for the arm of the dining room chair that she'd moved away from the end of the table. He pulled the chair closer, right in front of her. He carefully slid in between the front of the chair and her dangling legs, taking his seat. He looked up at her in anticipation, knowing what was coming next.
And his mother didn't disappoint him. With a beguiling smile on her face, she'd draw her legs up, placing the bottom of each sexy shoe on the arm of the chair. "That's my sweet boy, now it's time for your snack." As she finished speaking, she slowly let her knees roll open to each side.
Elliott's gaze would be drawn to the inviting darkness between her thighs as the tightly-stretched hem of her skirt rose higher. He caught a brief glimpse of her silky panties, and then more as her legs opened wider and her skirt rose higher.
In the dream, she was always wearing white panties. Elliott stared between her gorgeous legs as if mesmerized, his eyes feasting on her glorious womanhood. Her silky panties were stretched tightly over her prominent mound, cupping it provocatively. The front of her panties was always damp, soaked to the point where the whiteness was almost translucent. He could clearly make out the fullness of her lips beneath, the seeping richness of her juices making them clearly visible through the sodden fabric. His eyes followed upwards, and he could have sworn he could even see the prominent bulge of her clit, causing a small teasing shadow to fall on the damp material.
But besides what he could see, what he loved even more was her luxuriously alluring scent. As she spread her legs, the subtleness of her warm womanly aroma had started to flow over him like a comforting cloak. It wasn't nasty or dirty-smelling, just the pure sensual fragrance of a beautiful woman—a beautiful woman whose dripping pussy was in need of servicing.