Many thanks, once again, to tangentjoker who edited this story.
This part of the John and Carol story can probably stand alone. But for background, I would suggest you read part 1.
This story is fiction. It is about an incestuous relationship. All the characters are aged eighteen or older.
*****
My mother and I had been lovers for a week since the Saturday evening we had acknowledged a desire for each other. A lust that each had kept hidden from the other. Fantasies had been in both our minds for years. Years of lonely masturbation while the lover of our dreams slept in a room across the hall.
We found a deep yearning that could only be satisfied through the sin of incest. But not a sin; not for us. To our lonely selves, it was a joyous meeting of our bodies; of our souls.
We had been insatiable all week. I would wait to hear her car in the garage. I would meet her as she came through the door into the kitchen. I would be naked beneath my robe. My cock would be hard and throbbing. It took all my willpower not to tear her clothes off her. We would suck and fuck until replete and be ready for more within the hour. My nervousness had gone. It had fled with my virginity. At least as far as my mother was concerned.
It was a Friday. The work week was over. We would have each other until Monday morning. We kissed, hard, hot, lots of tongue.
I'll be right back," Mom said.
She went to the bedroom; our bedroom now. I had moved a lot of my things into it. I fixed her a drink while she was gone. Whisky and soda, not too strong and lots of ice. It was her way of unwinding after work. Mom drank very little, but she did like a drink after work.
She returned in a few minutes. She had changed her slacks for a skirt. Her skinny legs were nylon covered. She was wearing the moderate heels she usually wore. She was still dressed in the suit jacket and blouse she had worn for work. She had never changed into a skirt before. I wondered what she had in mind.
She sat in a chair in the living room. I brought her drink. She sipped it slowly.
"It is so nice to come home to you, my love," she said softly. "I've been thinking about you all day. I had a hard time getting any work done. Fantasies, hot dreams of you eating me at work. Visions of you under my desk sucking my pussy while I did bank business."
She smiled then, that beautiful smile that lit up her face. "My panties would be soaked if I hadn't used a pad. My slacks, too. Just before quitting time, I closed my door and masturbated. I sat at my desk with my hand pushed down the front of my slacks and pretended my finger was your tongue."
Mom took another sip of her drink then set it on the table next to the chair. She held her arms open to me, then, as her legs spread wide in invitation.
"Show me what you would have done for your mother under the desk."
I didn't need to be asked twice. I shed my robe. Her talk had made me hot. I loved to eat my mother after she had been working all day. The idea that she had cum in her pants made her all the more desirable.
I fell to my knees between her splayed thighs. I pushed her skirt up, reaching for the panties. I was rushing things, showing no finesse at all. I tugged on the waist, pulling them over Mom's bony hips. She lifted her butt to help.
I pulled them off her feet. I brought them to my face to inhale the perfumes, to taste the juices soaked into the pad. To breathe the fragrance, to lick the sopping pad. To taste of the ambrosia; her juices, her cum, the sweat of her crotch, her piss.
I reveled in it, in my mother's extracts. Mom reached for the panties. Taking them from me she rubbed the pad on me; on my cheeks, on my neck.
She looped them around the back of my neck using them to pull me to her pussy. To lick and suck at her fragrant cunt. Her legs went over my shoulders. Her nylons thrilled my bare flesh. Her heels on the small of my back drummed on my spine as she came with shuddering force.
One hand twisted in my hair. She held me tight to her flowing cunt. I rolled my eyes up to see her, to watch her expression. She was holding the panties to her face, breathing in her essences. She licked at her juices, much as I had done.
She threw them away and pushed me away from her cunt. She slid off the chair to her knees, facing me. We shared a hot, hard, kiss. Her tongue licked her juices from my lips and tongue. She pushed me onto my back to dive on my cock.
She straddled me, pushing her still hot aromatic cunt into my face. Her skirt draped over her ass as I responded to her lust and her heat.
On the living room carpet, we ate each other. Her on top. Me on top. On our sides. She was cumming with screaming shudders. The screams were muffled by my throbbing cock fucking her wet mouth. Waves of orgasmic pleasure tore through her body. Her nylon clad thighs pressed my head. Her hands twisted in my hair as she held me to her cunt. My mother's cunt that I loved so much.
I came with an electric thrill. My cum gushed into her mouth, filling it, overflowing her lips. She came herself as she milked my cum from my hard cock, as her cum flowed over my face.
We collapsed together and lay like that, head to sex. Somewhere I found the energy to turn, so as to lie face to face with her. I watched raptly as she rolled her tongue through my cum in her mouth. Savoring it, loving it, enjoying the creamy slickness of it.
She kissed me to share it. She swallowed, then she licked her juices from my face. I licked my cum from her cheeks and chin.
We lay there until we had recovered enough to sit up. I stood and held out a hand to her. We stood together embracing, exchanging a loving kiss. Loving now that the initial heat was past. Past for now.
"That was hot, Mom," I said, my voice husky with the lust, the thought of what was yet to come. "There was something about you wearing that skirt while we made love. That was a real thrill for me. Please leave it on."
"I thought you would like it. I'll wear it for you," Mom said.
I put my robe on. Mom was still dressed, except for her panties. We sat on the couch together. She with her drink. We talked very little, being content to be close.
Eventually, I had to get up in order to get dinner ready. I liked to cook. Since I wasn't working, it made sense for me to take over that chore.
It was a light meal. Neither of us wanted to overeat. We made some small talk for a while. Mom had shed her jacket but was still wearing her blouse and skirt. As we were sipping our after dinner coffee, she opened the buttons on the blouse to let it fall open. I thought it was hot, the way she did it.
Then I asked Mom something I had wondered about.
"Mom," I asked. "What did you do before? Before last week I mean. You seem to have a healthy sexual appetite. Surely you didn't go without."
I knew part of the answer. I had snooped, after all.
"Oh John," she said. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"
