I'm Jen, 42. I'm mom to two sons and wife to Dan. We met in High School, lost our virginity to each other, and never looked back. Been married 23 years. We hit the gym three times a week, which is good. I'm not tall and a bit curvy, so I gotta watch the cals. Dan, the lucky bastard, is tall and thin and can do whatever he wants. When we married we decided that I would stay home and raise the kids.
The kids, well adults now, Dan Jr. Twenty-two, last year of a five-year Masters program. Tall, outgoing, and strikingly handsome, like his dad. Warren? My little man. Tall too, and handsome, but so intelligent and introverted. Eighteen now, he spends his time immersed in literature. He devours the classics. His friends, thank god he has friends, are the same. "The Nerd Herd" I call them. They laugh.
Life is good or was. Dan got promoted, again. But, this time he had to leave town for a month. This was going to be a problem. You see I'm a borderline nympho. Okay, not really, but I love sex with Dan. We're so open and adventurous. Daily, yeah, every day, some kind of sex. More than once a day too. We love it. I'd tell you about all the stuff we've done but that's not why I'm here.
Just after dawn Monday morning I put my exhausted husband on the plane. We'd spent all night writing new chapters for the Kama Sutra.
I went home, back to our room, stripped, pressed my face into the sheets soaked with our love, and masturbated for another half-hour. Told ya. I really didn't know how I was going to survive.
Dan Junior was due home in three days. So, for now, it was just me and my little nerd. Since he kept to his room, I was free to do my mom duties, with a generous helping of self-love. I started wearing sundresses with nothing under them. I had dildos stashed all over the house. Every night Dan and I had facetime sex. I was getting by.
Then, I met the washing machine. Oh, I knew it well, but only as a cleaning appliance, not as my favorite sex-toy. I was doing laundry, I do a lot of laundry. The washer, in the spin cycle, was banging against the dryer. I reached over from one corner to the other to pull them apart. My pussy, constantly wet anyway, pushed into the corner of the pulsating machine. I gasped. The vibrations went through me like ten-thousand volts. I collapsed on the machine, struggled to pull up my dress, not wanting even a millimeter of fabric between my new toy and my pussy. I hugged that Whirlpool like I hugged Dan when he took my virginity in his parent's bed. The hard metal corner pushed into my vagina as I pressed my clit on the stainless steel top. Oh, fuck it felt good.
I came and came. Waves of orgasms. As my new boyfriend ended its cycle, I exploded. A torrent poured out of me, leaving a puddle on the basement floor. I was a sweaty mess, but more satisfied than I had been since Dan left. I might just make it.
I dug out the manual for '"Whirlly"'. I found out just how long each part of the washing cycle took. This became my jam. I'd start a load and set the timer. There I'd be, naked, in my basement, watching the second hand on the clock I put on the wall of the laundry room. I'd hear '"Whirlly"' click into spin and I'd mount him and ride him like a barroom bull.
Of course, I was never real quiet so I watched to make sure Warren was in his room. It was a great setup. Then Dan Jr, came home.
Dan, we called him Junior-real original, I know, didn't keep any kind of schedule, so for the first few days, it was agony. I'd hear '"Whirlly"' spinning away in the basement, calling to me, as Junior helped me paint the spare bedroom room while my pussy drooled. I was dyin. I couldn't take it anymore. The next day as Junior finished the trim painting, and Warren was up in his room, I snuck downstairs. It was time. "Whirlly" was halfway through the spin cycle, it would have to do, I needed this.
I couldn't get naked so I pulled up my sundress and put a pair of clean socks in my mouth. I needed to, had to, cum. I pressed my sex against the cool steel, feeling the vibration in my hip bones. I nestled the corner into my soaked slit and pressed my clit down on the rocking machine. Heaven. The rhythmic rocking milked my pussy. I was so needy, so horny. I hugged my toy and soaked the floor, groaning into the socks.
A clean bath towel fluttered over my head, covering me and blocking my vision. I'd been caught. Only one person knew where I was. The back of my dress was tossed up over my back. Then I felt it. A cock, a real cock, rubbing up and down my slit, spreading my fluids. I was so far gone that I didn't care that my oldest son was about to commit incest. His cock was a little bigger than his father's. He held my hips and plunged in, ah, the vigor of youth. A real cock and "Whirlly"-nypho nirvana.
This was so wrong on so many levels, but we're both adults. He did the towel to objectify me. You're not fucking your horny mother if you can't see or hear her, right? Worked for me. Fact is, I'd been having fantasies of Junior fucking me since he got home. He's just like his dad at that age and me, being in a delicate state, was down the rabbit hole in no time.
The feeling of his cock sliding into my soaked sex was sublime. I could feel the ridges, the fat head as it nearly left my pussy, only to plunge back in, nearly to my cervix. Those hands, controlling my hips. Being taken. The soft feeling of his pants, dropped down to his ankles, rubbing my calf's. Long legs, my juice splashing against them, pressed against mine. Fluid poured out of my pussy as I came and came. I just flopped on the machine and let it happen. He figured out when I was about to cum and he'd ram hard and hold as I flooded over his rigid cock.
As '"Whirlly"' ended, I came. My son buried his wonderful cock deep and jetted my pussy full of cum as I twitched under him. He pulled out and left me gasping on my washing machine.
I had never had a sexual experience like that in my life. The washer, the mystery fucker, knowing it was my son, being taken, held down and fucked. So many sensations, feelings. I was a limp rag. I lay there for a few long minutes, digesting what had just happened. I knew I'd do it again if he wanted.
I came back upstairs, exhausted, but satisfied. Junior was adjusting the wide belt on his crisp new jeans. I heard the shower upstairs shut off. As I walked past Junior, I let my hand run across the flat of his back. He flinched.
"Oh, hey mom. Sorry, had to fix my belt."
Yeah, I bet you did, "That's fine dear. Whatever you want to do is fine with me."
Warren walked in, wearing his standard uniform of sweatpants and a tee shirt as Junior left.
"Mother, what time will dinner be served?"
My nerd son and his unique speech, "Six, same as always."
That night as the three of us sat at the dinner table, Junior was quite chatty.
"Mom, the extra room looks great."
"Thanks. I'd still be painting if it weren't for you. Your color choice was amazing. I'd never have thought of that combination."
My oldest son looked at me, "Yeah, for a jock, I seem to have a knack with color and style. I like helping you with your special project."
The double entendre made my pussy juice. Junior seemed so casual as if we both didn't know what we did today. Such a clever boy. Warren sat and shoveled peas into his mouth.
I got a little reckless, "I may need help with the laundry tomorrow."
