I got in about 10:30 Friday evening for spring break from school. I have to admit, it was about 2-hours earlier than planned, but my last class was cancelled, and I headed directly home. I pulled into the garage drive like any other night, entered through the kitchen, dropping my laundry basket , laptop, and back pack. Grabbing a glass of milk, I thought I should let Mom and Dad know I was in safely.
I started back down their wing of the house to let them know I was there. As I approached their room, unmistakable, sexual noises were filling the hallway.
"Oh Jesus Richard," my Mon grunted at my Dad. His grunting told me he was in the middle of pounding her middle aged flesh hard. I stopped in my tracks. I did not want them to know I was home at this moment. But my feet were frozen to the floor. I could not turn, I could not exit my spot. I leaned to listen, my cock growing quickly hard, shoving down my leg.
"Oh my God," I muttered to myself. My big brain fought a battle of respect for them against my little brain engorging my cock to very respectful proportions. Funny how the little brain can dominate these mind games. I crept closer to their door. With their bed along the side wall of their bedroom, I could see him standing at the edge of the bed, Mom's legs wrapped around his hips, her arms spread wide, clenching the bed cover as he repeatedly pounded her body.
"Oh yes my big man," Momma whispered to him. "Fuck me honey, shoot your cum in my body," she continued. "I want to feel you," her voice trailed off as Dad interrupted.
"I'm cumming," shouted my Father. "Take it you bitch," his voice stopped abruptly.
"Yes Richard, I'm your bitch," Mom followed. "Fuck me, cum in me," she uttered. "Yes baby, cum in me," she whispered as Dad slowly ground his body to a halt, pulling savagely against her pelvis.
"So good," Dad muttered. Mom opened her legs, Dad pulled out, leaned to pull his underwear up from one ankle, lifting the other foot to get the shorts in place. Mom rolled over, moving up the bed quickly, lying on her back. In the darkness lighted by her night light, I saw her silhouette with no real definition. "G'night," Dad grunted, flopping on his side of the bed.
Mom lay silently, her legs raised, bent at the knee, spread wide. I listened as Dad's breathing grew deeper, slower. Mom rustled, followed distinctly by movement between her legs.
"Oh baby, make me cum," she whispered. "Yes, lick my cunt! Oh so good baby," she whispered. I could hear her hands, her fingers in her juices. I grabbed my shorts, pulling the leg hem up, lifted my underwear, and freed my rigid cock. I fisted my monster, stroking hard, choking the shaft with each pump up and down. Mom groaned, her body shuddering, interrupting her groan as each spasm of her orgasm raced through her body. Her groan burned my mind, searing the memory deep into the recesses of my silver box room. Her groan tore my senses, my eyes slamming shut, my balls exploding, shooting cum into my shaft. I was not ready, nor had I expected to blow my load. I almost doubled over, covering the head with my hand, trying to catch all the cum shooting from my cock. I turned, moving quickly to the hallway, heading back to the kitchen. Passing the hall bathroom, I leaned to grab a puff tissue, wiping my hand, wiping the head of my swollen cock. I dropped the tissue in the waist basket, pulled up my shorts, and started out of the bathroom.
I could not even think straight. I had cum to Mom's masturbation. "Oh shit," I muttered to myself.
"Oh shit," my mom shrieked. Glancing to my right, Mom had her hand over her heart, her face frozen in a panic, almost a deep scream. "Jason," she shrieked, slapping at my shoulder. "You scared me to death," she continued.
"Hey Mom, I'm home," I voiced quickly. "Had to pee so bad," I let my voice trail. She stepped to me, throwing her arms around me tightly. I could feel her warmth press against me. "So good to have you home for the week sweetie," she said. "Come sit, tell me all about school," she said, grabbing my arm, pulling me toward the kitchen.
"Want some grape juice," she asked? "New studies out, grape juice in one of the top two or three juices that one should drink for heart decease," she continued. "Did you know orange and apple are about the last juices you should drink," she finished. "For heart stuff," she added.
"Mom, slow down," I laughed. She turned from the frig, her mid-thigh length robe lightly tied around her shoulders. Her face was radiant, even flushed. I moved to grab two glasses from the shelf. As I sat the glasses on the counter, Mom moved next to me. I glanced across her body, noting a gap in her robe, her breast showing slightly. Mom glanced to me at that instant, noting my eyes divert upwards to see her stare. Glancing down to see what I saw, she hesitated an instant in pouring the juices in the glasses.
"Goodness son, what are you staring at," she asked? "Your Mother's old saggy boob," she continued, stretching to stand straight. The gap in the robe closed. We had always been open about our bodies, our sex lives.