Mommy's Incestuous Deal
Mrs. Umayyah
"Faizel," I smiled as my eldest son leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, a hungry smile on his dusky face. He had such bold eyes, staring at me like he wanted to feast. On his own mother.
I loved it. Beneath my dress, my pussy grew hotter, remembering how hard he fucked me an hour ago. A shiver ran through me, my hips swaying as my nipples hardened. I stirred the fish stew I had simmering all day for dinner.
"I need to talk to you," I said, covering the stew and setting the wooden spoon on a towel.
"About?" he asked, sauntering into the room, so tall and strong, his muscular body stretching out the t-shirt he wore. "Is that hot pussy in need of being taken care of?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Do not forget to whom you're talking to."
He grabbed my hips, pulling me to him. I felt the bulge of his cock. "My sexy mother." His hands slipped around me, squeezing my ass. "If it's not your pussy, what?"
"I need Carter out of his house Friday night," I said. "Leyla's spending the night with Kimmy, and she can't have him around."
"Oh, whoring out my sister to Carter's dad?"
"Maybe. But either way, Carter needs to be out all night."
"And how do I do that?" Faizel asked. "Only one thing could guarantee that he's not there: pussy."
My cunt tightened while my stomach swirled. My lusts boiled through me. This was to make more money to replace what I lost with my gambling addiction. Nothing more. Having sex with a young stud like Carter was just a...a bonus. Something I shouldn't enjoy.
But I knew I would.
"Ask him if he'd pay $200 to have sex with me," I said, knowing I could trust my son. He loved me.
Faizel grinned, squeezing my ass hard. "I'll need Leyla for something on Saturday."
"What?" I asked, his cock so hard, rubbing against me. If my husband wasn't about to get home, I'd help my son with his erection problem. I'd relieve that ache in his dick.
"I want to have Leyla be gangbanged by my friends."
I trembled at those words, picturing my nineteen-year-old daughter being fucked over and over by young studs. Their cum pouring out of her ass and pussy and coating her body. Her dusky tits swaying as they dripped with jizz. Her black hair matted. Her dusky face flushed, smeared in spunk, and bursting with pleasure. The little slut would love it.
"Your friends have to pay $50 for the privileged," I said. "A group discount for her normal rate." And then I shuddered. "And there might be another girl, too."
He squeezed my ass hard. "Oh, really?"
"Really," I smiled, my arms slipping around his shoulder. My son was so sexy. I wanted him in me right now, fucking me so hard.
"I'll talk to Carter," he said, pushing me backward until I pressed into the stove. I could feel the heat of the burner through my dress, caressing my back. My
hijab
rustled about my face as Faizel rubbed my skirt.
"Your father's almost home. You have to stop."
He just gave me this smile that he knew I wanted him. Was wet for him. I shuddered, feeling so owned by my son at that moment. Then he pulled away. "I got a date with Svetlana anyways. She'll take care of me."
"Have her deep-throat you," I said. "She should do that much for my son."
He laughed as he walked away, shaking his head.
I shuddered, turning back to check on the stew when my other son, Jalal walked into the room. My baby boy hugged me from behind before I could even move, rubbing his hard dick into my ass. I groaned. Why did I have to have two sexy sons?
"Mom," Jalal said. "I need you so badly."
"Your sister's available," I said. "Your father's almost home."
"I'd rather have you," he said.
I shuddered. "Tonight. While your father's enjoying your sister."
He kissed my cheek and darted off, shouting, "You're the best mom."
I smiled at that.
Not long after, my husband came home. I greeted him as he walked in. He looked like Faizel, older, matured, and with a thick, black beard. He had a weary look but an eagerness in his eyes as I walked up to him.
It wasn't for me.
"Good evening, my husband," I said, kissing him on the mouth.
"Mmm," he groaned. "Something smells good."
"Your favorite stew's been cooking all day." I smiled then casually added, "Oh, and the sleepover at Kimmy's is all set and ready."
"Sleepover?" Karim frowned at me.
"Yes, Friday night." I gave him a look. "I told you last week. Don't tell me you forgot."
He shrugged. He forgot these sort of things all the time. Of course, I was lying about this one. "What's this sleepover?"
"Leyla is spending the night at Kimmy's house. I'll be chaperoning them. Making sure they don't get up to any trouble. Both her parents are out of town."
"Have it here," my husband said, a twinkle in his eye. Was he thinking about Kimmy? She was an innocent thing. So demure and virginal. I'd ensure my husband had a taste of her pussy, too.