My doubts immediately forgotten, I cleared the room in three bounds and pulled her into my arms. Our tongues connecting, we moaned in unison as our bodies melted together on the bed. The mattress beneath us creaked and groaned as I rolled mom onto her back and peeled the pink lace from her waist and she welcomed me inside of her with a moan and sweet murmurs of affirmation.
"Come on baby," she said, adjusting self against the pillows, "Momma needs you."
Groaning fervently at her words, I settled in between her legs and sighed in sick delight as I felt her calves wrap around my waist, gently pulling me in as I positioned myself at her entrance.
"You like that sweetie? You like it when mommy talks like that, huh?" She mewled, rubbing a hand across my bare chest as she spoke, "Well... mommy wants... you to... hmm, how should I put it? Mommy needs you to fuck me now."
"Oh fuck," I groaned, pushing past her wet lips and engulfing my length inside of her, "I needed this so fucking bad."
"Me too baby... me tooooooo," she moaned out as I started thrusting, blocking the world out as we began to indulge our darkest desires.
We weren't even twenty seconds in before being interrupted.
*ring* ring*
The ringing of mom's phone on the bedside table snapped us out of our reverie, momentarily breaking our rhythm we glanced towards the bright screen.
"It's your wife." Mom said, reaching for the phone and bringing it to her ear before I could protest.
"Hey Trace, everything okay?" Mom said, giving me a wink and lifting her ass off the bed, rocking her hips to slowly massage my length inside of her. Each circular motion she made sent jolts up my spine, and sent my cock into miniature spasms inside of her.
Seeing light in the corner of my vision, I bit my lip and did my best not to groan out in adulation, or spit any obscenities as she slowly increased the pace, giving me a sultry look which left me unable to resist resuming a slow pace in and out of her as she continued speaking.
"Yes, he's here," she said, reaching out with her free hand to find my own, and placing it on her left breast, something which only served to spur on my increasingly wanton thrusting, "He came to put the finishing touches on that- ughh paint job from yesterday. The spot he left off on didn't get quite... enough. I'll have him check his phone once he's done. He has so much stuff scattered down there I don't even think he knows where it is," she finished with a wink and clenched around my shaft, urging me to increase the pace further and snapping her eyes shut as I obliged.
"Yeah, I'm sorry babe, I know I've been keeping him from you lately, this just has to get done before the new years, and you know David couldn't work his way- way around like- oh! like this."
"Okay my dear, I- I love you too. I'll have him give you a call, promise. I know you two have.... Mmm plans tonight." She finished, struggling to get the words out as I began to fuck her in earnest, being extra careful not to let our skin slap together and make any unnecessary noise.
"No, no. I'm fine, great actually. You caught me in the middle of my yoga, that's... all. Alright, I'll see you soon Trace."
Putting down the phone, mom put her arms around my neck and pulled me in close, cooing as I resumed the breakneck pace we'd been enjoying before the interruption.
"Yes baby, fuck mommy harder. Yes! FUCK!" She cried out, arching her back as the waves of orgasm washed over her, "ohhhhhh yessss!"
"We're so fucking bad, aren't we baby?" She whispered into my ear, accenting her words with a light bite on my earlobe, "Did you ever imagine you- you- ah! ah! ah! ah! Yes! You'd be fucking your own mother while she talked to your wife on the phone?"
I felt a pang of guilt deep in my gut at her words, but was too far gone to do anything about it. Instead, I responded to her with a feverish abandon, taking a nipple into my mouth and sucking it gluttinously, furiously pumping away at her cunt before bottoming out. My legs shook violently as I pumped her full of cum, my mental and physical faculties temporarily abandoning me as my entire being cried out in joy at the sweet release.
However, even with both of our immediate needs and otherworldly commitments satisfied, neither of us were able to rip ourselves away from one another. Never being one for multiple orgasms, I reeled in shock and twisted delight as I found my body willing and ready for more. Time lost all meaning as we writhed and rolled around the bed, ravaging each other's bodies until the brink of exhaustion.
Unbeknownst to us, within a small box under the bed, the leather bound book which set us down this dark path began to hum in sync with the sounds of our dark union.
If either of us had looked at it in that precise moment, we'd have seen it floating an inch and a half from its place in the box, gently vibrating in time with the waxing and waning of the ecstasy assaulting our bodies. Glowing a deep violet, the book was energized, alive.
But of course, neither of us did see it. We wouldn't have, too busy to bother, because mom was laid out on top of me, deep in the throes of climax and struggling to stay conscious as I relentlessly pounded her pussy from below. My arms locked tight around the small of her back as my legs clenched tight, and I once again shot my load deep inside of her womb.
I did in fact leave my cum dripping down her legs, although neither of us paid it any mind. How could we, when we were both fast asleep not ten seconds after we returned to earth? I hadn't even managed to pull out before we lost consciousness. Together.
James' Journal
September 14th, the eleventh day.
Yesterday was... indescribable. I'm really starting to struggle here. Keeping myself grounded is getting more and more difficult, and it's only getting worse by the day. I had a wet dream last night. A fucking wet dream, like a damn teenager.
Maybe it's been a long time, but I sure as hell don't remember wet dreams being so vivid. I woke up hours ago, and I still remember every little detail. Mom bent over a balcony railing, begging for more as I stood behind her rubbing myself, teasing and prodding her entrance. Chuckling, I slipped the head in before slowly pulling it out, again and again and again, her ass pushing back towards me each and every time, begging me to stop my teasing.
I remember every little detail with crystal clarity. Even down to... her eyes turning black... she was bouncing up and down on top of me, growling like an animal as I came inside of her. Her face looked... terrifying, so dark and primal. It was beautiful. It only lasted a second, but I was filled with such joy and desire that I had to... handle things myself the second I woke up.
It didn't feel like any dream I've ever had before. It was fucking terrifying.
Samantha "Mom's" Journal,
September 14th, the eleventh day.
Dear Journal,
My head is in a fog. I do hope this will remain coherent, future me, for you are the unlucky soul to whom these words are destined to one day pertain. My only hope is the experiences we're being subjected to weigh less heavy on your heart than they do mine. That one day, these will be little more than bad memories, one's relegated to only the most thoughtful of long nights, because right now...
I'm becoming a monster. The thoughts... the horrors... the need.... Oh, the needs... I sent my son nudes yesterday, my own
SON.
I sent my boy nasty pictures, and touched myself knowing he was doing the same.
I encouraged him to knowingly hurt his own wife. I encouraged him to... do many bad things, and I did it all with a smile.
I put on lingerie for him, I sullied the sanctity of my marital bed with him. I defiled myself, my marriage, the bond we share, and again, I did it all with a smile. I'll say it once more, I am becoming a monster.
What kind of woman knowingly coaxes someone into her while she's speaking with his wife? Her daughter in law nonetheless? I spoke to that sweet girl while her husband... while my son... and I
enjoyed
it. It
excited
me.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
What kind of
MAN
could do such horrible things?
In sitting here writing this, I feel such clarity. I can see everything happening; I can see how it started, and I see where it's leading. In the here and now, I am me, I have strength. Yet I know now, as I turn the page and set off for the day... I'll be weak. The overbearing weight on my tired soul will return, the devil on my shoulder will let it's voice be known once again, and I'll do things I regret. Henceforth, the only question now is... will this regret last? My shame, my modesty, my sanity, my.... morality?
These are the last bastions of hope I have left in this cruel world. These things which find a home in the regret I feel every night before I shut my eyes, every morning upon waking. Will they too, disappear? As so much else already has...
What is happening to me?
