Moms at the Beach

I woke to the sound of Ann puttering in the kitchen. Andrew was fast asleep. He might fuck like a man, but he still slept like a teenager. I knew I needed to talk to Ann. I put on a short robe and found her wearing skin tight shorts and a sports bra, ready for her morning jog.

"Morning sleepy head. I was wondering when I'd see you. Wanna go for a run?"

That sounded like a good idea. It would clear my head and be an opportunity to chat. I got my shorts, bra, and tee-shirt from my gym bag and changed. And, although I had stripped in front of Ann hundreds of times, I found I was self-conscious. Last night I had fucked her son and listened to her fuck mine, our bodies proclaiming themselves vibrant sexual instruments. Annie seemed to understand, she was also looking at me in a new way. My observation was confirmed a second later.

"Well, I can certainly understand what my boy sees in you. You're fricking gorgeous."

I continued to stretch, thinking about how to respond. Annie's stretch was closer to a dance; her face was joyous.

"You're in a good mood."

"Good mood? I'm in a great mood. I may be in the best mood of my life. I never needed a fuck more and never had a better one. Your boy's amazing. And from the way your were whooping and hollering it sounded like mine is pretty good too."

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. I had none; I wasn't ready to discuss her son's skills in the sack. I managed a plaintive, "Annie...," and she dropped the subject. It was about a mile into our run when I finally said what had been on my mind all morning. "We had sex with each other's kids last night. Doesn't it bother you?"

There was no concern in her eyes. I went on.

"What if they tell someone?"

"Well, honey, we'll just need to give 'em such high quality pussy that they'd never risk losing it by blabbing."

"Ann, I'm serious."

"So am I honey, so am I. Okay, when we get back to the cabin we'll talk to them."

I decided to settle for this small triumph. At the three mile mark we turned around. I got into the groove, listening to the surf and sea gulls, enjoying the soft damp sand under my feet, and, also, thinking about last night. It was, in fact, impossible not to, Annie wouldn't drop the subject telling me in lascivious detail what a wonderful fuck my son was, describing how great her body felt, asking about her boy's performance, bemoaning the months we had gone without when these studs lived under our roofs.

We arrived back to find the twins loading a box in their car. They were wearing bikini tops and shorts. Annie introduced us. Their names were Cindy and Lisa. My impression of the evening before was confirmed: attractive, mid-twenties, deeply tanned, athletic if not athletes. Cindy, the extrovert of the two, told us they'd rented a boat to spread their parents' ashes along the coast. Their family had been regular visitors to the area, but, horrifically, their parents had perished in an accident three years ago. The memories of the beach too painful, the girls had stayed away. This was their first trip back.

Annie gave each a hug, wishing them luck. She also expressed an interest in getting together later; the twins were amenable. Then Annie asked a question I never would have.

"So, how can we tell you two apart?"

The twin's answered by looking at each other's hips. "Miles to go before I sleep," was tattooed on Lisa, "Do not go gentle into the good night," was on Cindy.

"Robert Frost, Dylan Thomas," I said.

"Very good," said Cindy. "Mama was an English professor in Charleston, specializing in poetry. After she passed we got these in her honor."

The girls drove off. I wondered if they'd seen us making out with our sons on the porch last night. What would we say to them about our boys? That we were cougars with some young stuff? I was about to raise the question with Annie when my son shouted, "Hey Mrs. R., Mom. Morning! I made some coffee. Come on up." He was on the porch, wearing a robe, sporting a happy, blissful grin.

Annie responded. "Morning stud. After last night I think you can call me Ann."

"Sure Mrs. ..., Ann. It will take some getting used to."

"Son, pour us some coffee. We'll be right up."

"Sure Mom."

While washing the sand off our feet with a hose I said, "Annie, why are you encouraging him."

Annie was unconcerned. "Oh honey, he doesn't need encouragement, but don't worry, we'll talk to him, we'll have the conversation I promised."

When we got upstairs Steven directed us to the porch, appearing moments later with three cups of coffee on a tray. Annie slid over, patting the spot on the couch she'd vacated. Steve sat between us.

Ann picked up her coffee, took a sip, and got right to the point. "Honey, your Mom's worried about last night. I think she's wondering about two things, whether she's a perv and whether the world will find out." She looked at me. "Do I have it right honey?"

"Uh, yeah."

My son put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my forehead. "Hey Mom, I love you. As for the world finding out, Andy and I don't kiss and tell. If it makes you feel any better, we've been with a few of the neighborhood ladies, some you know. We keep it confidential."

Well, the way Andy had worked me over last night, it was clear he was no virgin. I thought of some of the horny neighborhood wenches I knew. I could imagine a few inviting our boys into their beds.

Steven went on. "Andy and I, and our friends, long ago decided we've got the two hottest moms in town. Since our dads left we've been real proud of you. You've busted your butts to get in shape and, don't worry, we were at the wedding, you have better bods than the brides."

How did he know that was our goal? Annie saw the look on my face.

"Honey, at some point last night I may have blabbed about that."

"Andy and I decided that if we had the chance, we'd take it. Hell, we're not virgins, its not like you took advantage of us. You two deserve to have a man make love to you the right way. And from what I heard, Andy made sure you had a good time."

I had expected a mealy-mouthed explanation, a half-hearted justification for a mistake. Instead I was getting an unapologetic assertion of my desirability, of my right to enjoy what a man could do to me. I looked in the distance, at the water. I wasn't sure how to respond. I wanted to object, but my mind was scrambled. My thoughts returned to the evening before. I'd loved screwing Andrew. He had seduced me. Why was I trying to decide it was wrong?

Steve's hand found the back of my neck, rubbing it, effortlessly working the muscles. I heard a happy sigh. He was also kneading Annie's neck.

"Mom, you're a sexy beautiful woman. Dad's not denying himself. Why should you?"

I kept my head down, letting him massage my neck, my only retort, "Baby, that feels so good." I watched Annie rub his knee with the heel of her hand, the movement unabashedly sexual. I tried to feel offended, but could find no disgust. I remembered their groans, moans, and screams reverberating though the walls last night. Who was I kidding? Listening to them had been a turn-on. My son, his friend, were superb cocksmen. I had screwed her son; she had screwed mine. Who was I to object?

Ann's hand slid up his leg, her thumb on the inside of his thigh. His robe moved, seemingly on its own. It took me a second to figure it out; my son was becoming hard. I stared, frozen, as his erection rose, pushing aside his robe. Ann's hand crept further up his thigh and his penis emerged from his robe, standing full and tall.

My reaction was combined shock and fascination. I should not be looking at this thing; when had my baby grown this thing? It was thicker and longer than Andrew's impressive instrument. Prominent veins ran up its side, pumping blood into it. The head was a dusky brown. His testicles were enormous. I stared at it. Steven's hand moved from my neck to my shoulder, kneading my muscles between powerful fingers.

Ann took Steve's penis in her hand. A drop of fluid emerged from the top, coating the brown knob. When had he sprouted this mast? It was twice the size of his father's.

Ann sensed what I was thinking. "It's strange, you watch them grow up, become men, but never think how this part has grown."

I stammered out, "Yes, yes, you're right, I mean, it, he's so big, I remember...," befor faltering.

Ann picke dright up. "Sharon, honey, how about my boy, does he have a super-sized cock like Steven?"

I stared at his erection. It was, unabashedly, a sexual instrument; the seat of my son's masculinity and power. He had used it on Annie last night as Andy has used his on me, flooding us with animal pleasure, reducing us to our carnal cores.

When I replied there was a definite sexual undertone to my voice, "Oh yes Ann, your son's, its big and beautiful."

Ann continued squeezing my son's member. When another drop of pre-cum emerged, she massaged it into the head of his tool with her thumb. Steve let out a low growl.

"I listened to you two last night. It sounded like my son's a pretty good fuck," Ann said.

I was trying to formulate an answer when Steve's hand cupped my breast. It flashed hot with arousal. In shock, I directly answered Ann's question. "He was fucking amazing. I can't remember coming so hard."

"Your boy was magnificent too. I've never been fucked so well. He also made a bit of a confession."

Ann released my son's penis and took my hand in hers.

"It turns out the boys not only have a thing for each other's mothers, they have a thing for their own."

She placed my hand on Steven's dick. It jumped. She wrapped my fingers around it. It was warm and hard and big.

"Well, I'll see you two later. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about and I think I hear Andy waking up. I'm gonna check on him."

She bounced off the couch and headed into the cabin.

I was mesmerized. I was sitting on a porch facing the ocean, my hand on my son's member. I was not sure what to do, not sure what was right or wrong. The only thing I was sure of was that my son had a big beautiful magnificent cock. Steve slid off the couch with a commanding confident ease and got on his knees. He spread my legs, pulled me to the edge of the couch, and, in a single deft motion, removed my shorts.

"Mom, I've wanted to do this for years."

He licked my clit. A bolt of lightning struck me; an electrical surge washed through my body.

"Uuuuunnnnhhhhhhhhhh..."

He licked my cunt lips and sucked my clittie into his mouth, battering it with his tongue. Arousal surged through me. Any hope of considering the morality of any of this was overwhelmed by the burning need between my legs. Was it the forbidden nature of our liaison, the months of celibacy, Andy kicking down the doors of my inhibitions? Whatever it was, I had never gotten this hot this fast. I wanted to wallow in this outlawed desire.

"Eat me, fucking eat me, fucking eat my cunt, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

My sex pulsed, it was wonderfully alive. Steven's face glowed with joy. He loved eating pussy! His Dad was a reluctant pussy eater; his son, our son, loved it, loved eating my cunt, my hot cunt, my hot steamy cunt, my hot wet steamy fucking hot cunt. He closed his lips on my swollen clitoris and sucked on the little member while his tongue swirled around and around it. He hoisted my legs over his shoulders. I thrust my hips forward, pushing my sex into his face. He gripped my hips, holding me tight to his hungry wonderful mouth.

"Ooooooohhh, Stevie, ooooooohhhhhhh honey," I mewled. He licked my vaginal lips and pushed his tongue inside me, plunging deep into my pussy. Next, he turned to my labia, licking every curve, every crevice, every fold. I jabbered incoherently, "Oh, oh, oh, oh," but the next words caught in my throat. I took a second and then I said it: "Oh son, it feels so good, eat your mama's pussy."

I had acknowledged my depravity, called him my son, stated I was his mother; my sex burned brighter; I gushed cunt cream. Steve glanced at me, his face glistening with my juice, ran his tongue over his lips, and resumed feasting on my cunt. I was a furnace down there, racing towards an orgasm, wanting to come on my son's perfect face.

Steve attacked my clitoris, his tongue teasing, rolling, licking, lifting, battering, poking. He was indefatigable. He loved eating cunt! He fucking loved eating cunt! My son, my beloved sexy son loved eating his mother's hot cunt! I closed my eyes. He plunged a finger, then two, into my fuck hole, ramming them in and out. His pinky massaged my perineum and stroked my asshole.

My head was besieged by sheening shimmering sheets of light. My body went rigid; bolts of pleasure blasted through me; my nipples swelled till I thought they'd burst. I came, but Steve didn't stop; he sucked my clit, pushing me from orgasm to orgasm. I came and came and came again. Finally, my body worn out, I could take no more. I put my hand on his head, whimpering, "Please, please, please stop."

I slumped into the couch for several minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. Finally I said, "Wow." Steven squeezed my hand and stood, his powerful body arising before me. He shrugged off his robe. He was Adonis. He held my hands, said, "Mom, we've got so much to make up for," and pulled me to my feet. With his hands on my ass, he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him.

"I'm going to fuck you mother."

"Oh yes, my beautiful boy, fuck your mother."

I set his dick at the entrance of my pussy and then, inch by inch, my son's massive cock entered me. I was stuffed when only half of his thick dick was inside me, but still he kept coming. Steven took his time, feeding me his cock with agonizingly careful slow progress.

I buried my face in his neck, muttering, "Oh my god," as my sex molded itself to his massive tool. He kept coming; he was all the way inside me. With the full weight of my body pressing down on him, I realized no one had ever been deeper, he was in virgin territory. I loved it, loved being packed full of my son's man meat. His pole scraped the walls of my cunt. When he carried me into the house I flexed my cunt muscles and exploded in a quick powerful orgasm. Lights flashed in my head; my body was consumed by a fire burning with unbelievable pleasure. It was insane, but true; I had become my son's lover.

Steven paused while I came and then, his gloriously thick man-meat buried in me up to his balls, carried me up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once there he leaned me back and I pulled off my shirt and bra so he could feast on my tits, sucking and biting the swollen nipples, his teeth sending bolts of electricity through me. I tilted my head and kissed him; our tongues played wildly with each other. When I pulled away I stared into his eyes and, with a wide silly happy grin plastered across my face, said, "I love you, son."

"I love you too, Mom. I can't believe I'm finally doing it, livin' my dream, fucking you, fucking my Mom. If you only knew how long I wanted this."

He backed me up to the wall. I tightened my legs around him, pulling his cock deeper into my womb. He rotated his hips, moving his dick around inside me, pleasuring spots I didn't know existed. He ran his hard pubic bone over my clit, which was trapped between our bodies. The pleasure was intense, unrelenting. I came in a string of small compact orgasms, each leaving me craving the next.

Steven stepped away from the wall and, holding my ass cheeks, pistoned me up and down his cock. Inch after inch of his magnificent tool moved in and out of me. When it slid out I thrust down, trying to recapture his dick, but he was to strong so I surrendered, letting him control my movements, letting him set the pace. I savored the feel of his powerful body against me, loved the scent of his earthy masculinity.

"Your pussy is so fine, so tight, mother."

"Fuck me baby, fuck me son, give Momma that big hard cock."

He increased the pace. I showered his face and neck with kisses, dug my heels into his buttcheeks, urging him to plough my pussy. My fingernails scratched his muscular back. Steven kept going. When he wasn't nibbling my nipples or kissing the sensitive spots on my neck, shoulders, and ears, he whispered to me, "I love you Mom. I love your hot pussy," emphasizing each point with a sudden jab of his stiff meat. His balls bounced against my ass.

On and on we fucked. As my son plunged his cock in and out of my, his, our cunt, the world shrunk to the two of us. There was only us, locked in this incestuous dance, the pleasure growing and growing. Orgasms wracked my body but Steven kept going and going until finally, thrusting deep, he growled, "Gonna cum, gonna cum, coming, yessss, fucking, unnhhhhhh, Mommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." My son's cock swelled and erupted, filling me with his white hot creamy semen. My cunt muscles clamped down, milking every drop of from him, and then an orgasm detonated between my legs, galvanizing my body with wave after wave of intense erotic incestuous sensation. I wanted to scream words of love and lust for my son and his lovely cock, but all I could manage was a wild bestial wail. The world swirled around me and turned white, the color of perfect pleasure.

Steven lay me on the bed. I was panting. He stepped back, dragging his cock from my happy cunt. I groaned in disappointment and looked at him. He was still hard.

"You're still erect. How is that possible?"

"This thing can go for hours, especially with your sweet pussy to inspire me. You ready to be fucked like a whore?"

Oh yes, I was, I most certainly was.

Steven straddled my body, effortlessly slid back inside - I was full of my juice and the deluge of cum he'd left behind - and began pounding his long hard tool in and out of my pussy. My ass bounced on the bed and my voice rose an octave, "YESSSSSSS! FUCK MEEE, SONNNN! GIVE MOMMMMMAAAA THAT BIG COCKKKK! FUCK MOMMMMMYYY, MAKE HER CUM AND CUM AND CUM. FUCK HER LIKE A WHORE!"

Steven did just that. He was not gentle; it was a hard simple fuck. My son, I learned, was a champion bronco buster, expertly riding his mother's convulsing orgasming body. In and out, slow and fast, twisting his hips, he plumbed the depths of my capacity for pleasure. I was buffeted by electric orgasms, earthquake orgasms, mind-altering orgasms, gasping-for-breath-and-crying-out-in-sheer-joy orgasms. He licked the sweat from my breasts, bit my hard throbbing nipples, kissed my neck and face, and whispered into my ear how he loved his mother's hot tight wet slut whore twat.

Our conjoined crotches, infested with the cream pouring from my cunt, were sticky and sloppy. The air was dense with the scent of pussy juice and fuck-sweat. The walls reverberated with the sound of bodies smashing together. Steven's groans became shorter and more intense; he was going to cum. I dug my nails into his back and begged him to dump another load inside me, told him he was the best fuck of my life, that he could have his mother's pussy whenever however he wanted it. I asked for his cum, I prayed for his cum, I implored him to leave his seed where he'd been conceived nineteen years before. He demanded to know what I was and I told him; I was his mother, his lover, his fuck, his slut, his whore, his cunt. He fucked me harder, our bodies recoiled from the bed, and then, accompanied by a wanton bellow, he came, pouring his seed inside me. The flood of semen coated my womb and, again, I exploded in a mind-shattering orgasm, the powerful fire inside me so intense I feared it would consume my flesh.

Spent, we lay together. It felt so nice, so right, to be wrapped in his arms. We kissed and stroked, fondled and cooed, his strong sensitive hands tripped over my body. He told me how he loved me, how he dreamed of the day when I'd be his. How, when Ann's and my marriage unraveled, he and Andy decided to seduce their moms.