All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.
*****
Eighteen year old Claude was a young man possessed. He was obsessed with, consumed by, an expanding relational dimension. He sat, thunderstruck, at the rectangular lemon Formica and chrome table in the James' Pasadena kitchen, staring unabashedly at Carla, his barely forty year old mother, as she merrily meandered from counter to sink, stove to refrigerator, clearing the remnants of their breakfast.
Carla was giddily a-glow in a just-fucked rapture, certain, too, that her freshest egg must surely have joined with one of Claude's millions of sperm. He had, after all, spent , not once but three times, without protection, into her eager vagina that very morning, the most fertile day of her current menstrual cycle. "If there's a God, I'll have Claude's child." she swore to herself, looking across the kitchen to her young, virile, Adonis, sipping the last swallow of his orange juice.
When Carla crossed the line, by sneaking into Claude's bed at 2 a.m., she had not known how lost she had been or how ardent her son could be. What had begun as an intended naughty exploration, a sinful self-indulgence, was now an out of control wildfire. Carla's body was a prime unburned forest in the midst of a long drought. Had she thought more about it, she might have realized the danger of building even the tiniest fire for basic warmth. As it was, however, her son's passion was like a Santa Ana wind and the resulting conflagration was awesome to behold.
Carla caught Claude ogling her well-built, fit frame. She blushed like a maiden, but crossed the linoleum and stood proudly beside him. "So, you don't think your Mom is too hard to look at, huh?" She asked, tousling his dark brown hair and grinning, all the while reminding herself that her 6' 3", 210 pound, grown son was, himself, hardly repulsive.
Claude pushed his chair back from the table and spun it around. He spread his knees and captured her with his strong hands, inside her sheer white rayon peignoir, just above the waist of her lime green chiffon baby doll bloomers. He tugged slightly, drawing her close, between his legs. "Completely, NOT!" He answered with a chuckle, licking a drop of orange juice off his lower lip. "In fact, I have a confession: I have been looking at you, and getting hard-ons, for a couple of years." He laughed, dropped his hands to Carla's bottom and quietly held her for a moment before continuing. "Why do you think it was that I asked you not to come to swim meets and watch me race?" He inquired, tilting his head back and staring into his mother's face. He loved its oval perfection, her perfectly spaced eyes, her thin straight nose and full sensuous lips. Everything about her was beyond improvement as far as he was concerned. Merely thinking about her made his dick wiggle in his sweatpants.
"Oh," Carla mused, "I guessed you would be embarrassed to have your mother there, or maybe were afraid I would see a girl in the stands you weren't ready for me to know about." She stroked Claude's neck with her left hand and placed her right hand loose upon his left shoulder, gently squeezing it through his T-shirt. "There were any number of reasons but, I wasn't going to take it as a personal slight." She smiled and kissed the top of Claude's head. "So, why did you?"
Claude coughed and looked down at the growing lump in his pants. "I was afraid, alright," he said quietly. "Afraid that I might look at you and get a boner in my Speedo."
"You mean," Carla chortled low in her throat, while she massaged her son more firmly, digging her thumbs into his trapezius muscles, "Like the one you're building down there right now?" She asked.
Claude flexed his fingers into Carla's cheeks, spreading them inside her thin panties. "I mean exactly like this one," he answered huskily. He slid his right hand up to the middle of Carla's back and his left to the top of her drawers. Pushing his left hand back down, inside the pastel material, he carried her panties over her ass to mid-thigh where gravity sped them into pool at her ankles. He pulled his mother's upper body in against him and raised his lips to meet hers as she lowered her face, hungrily kissing him with an open mouth.
Carla stepped out of her baby doll bottoms and straddled Claude's legs. Still kissing him, hard and deep, she lowered her hands from his shoulders to his waist and stretched out the elastic of his sweats. She pushed while he hiked his ass off the chair, and his grey jersey pants slid to his knees, freeing his erect cock from its soft prison. Claude kicked his legs loose from the sweats and pushed his left middle three fingers deep into Carla's slippery slot.
"Uunnhh, Baby," Carla exhaled, closing her pussy around his wriggling fingers, "That's... uunnhh... SO... NICE!"
Claude's right hand slid between their chests and covered Carla's full left breast. His first and second finger tips plucked at her thick hard square nipple while his spread thumb and pinky worked with his palm heel to palp the firm mound.
"Yeeep!" Carla yipped approval and scooted her hips forward. Claude ducked his head beneath the baby doll top and suckled her right tit, drawing as much of it as possible into his hungry mouth. Carla plopped her cunt down onto her son's fat cock and rocked her ass forward and back on his thighs, slick with her pussy's juice. Claude's displaced left hand squeezed her buttocks. His greased fingers slid between her cheeks and rubbed small penetrating circles around her sphincter. "MMfff!" Carla moaned, as the pressure from his dick merged with that of his fingers in her rosebud. She had always resisted any effort by Ben for anal contact. It had never seemed right to her. "Why is this OK with Claude?" she wondered in the back of her mind, even as she actively squirmed and drove his fingers past their voluntary stopping point. "MMMFFFF!" She moaned more loudly, forcing her rectum onto his fingers to the webbing of his hand and then violently thrusting forward and back. Claude's dick and digits see-sawed as he sucked and mauled her breasts. Carla tilted her head and screamed to the ceiling, "OH MY GOD! YESSSS! YESSSS! OH CLAUDE! FUUUCCKKK MEEEEE!"
Claude was astonished by the outburst as his mother shook and trembled on his lap, coming a flood around his prick and onto his legs. He had been concentrating so hard on giving Carla as much pleasure as possible that he had nearly forgotten he was part of the mix, too. His dick did not forget, however, nor did his nuts. Moments after Carla's screams died away and she clung, whimpering, quivering to his neck, drooling on his T-shirt, Claude felt his balls seize in their sack. He lunged his hips and curled his finger tips. He drew mightily on his mother's right tit as he crushed her left one in his hand and exploded the creamy contents of his testes into her for the fourth time in eight hours.
