"Now slide it out of your mouth while it's still hard and wet. Kiss the tip and then feed it into your hot, little cunt. And tell me exactly how that feels, Mom."
She hesitated too long, so I had to slap her across the mouth, THWAP! Not hard enough to loosen teeth but loud enough to get her attention, and leave a small reminder on her rosy cheek. "Do you need another lesson or are you ready to do as you're told? I can make this more difficult for you, if you won't behave."
"I'm so sorry Master. Please don't punish me." She whimpered softly and lightly trembled as her hand haltingly guided my sloppy, shiny cock between her pink folds. And then with a little pressure from her hand, and her hips stretching wide, she forced my thick shaft, inch by inch, tightly into her long-empty snatch. She sucked in her breath and moaned abit, as she was still getting used to the sensation of a man's large, solid cock filling her most sacred chasm. "Is that good Master? I only want to please you. I love having your big cock inside me, even more than I love sucking it for you. Please fill me up and fuck me all night long."
"That's better slut-mom, now tell me about your skanky pussy." I wanted to break her down, and I knew by the way she winced and squirmed that to her, crude, coarse language was just as taboo as fucking her son.
She stopped again, her eyes wide open and a bitter curl on her lips. Then she saw me raise my hand and stop the rocking motion of my cock in her hole. She knew another harsh lesson was imminent. She blurted out, "my pussy has been so empty for all these years. Finally I've found the big cock I always wanted. I'll trim my bush or shave it bald. Whatever you like best. And I'll suck your cock and coat it with my saliva or lube, to ease it into my tight cunt. I'll never fuck anyone else ever again. My pussy belongs to you Master. My whole body belongs to you. My pussy, my tits, my mouth, anything anyway.
I was satisfied at the moment with that answer. Her training is taking hold. I'm turning my mother into my sex-slave. Time for my reward. I had her laying on her back completely naked, her legs spread wide inviting my entry. And she had already learned to squeeze her mammoth boobs and offer them up to me, for my pleasure.
I hoisted her ankles around my neck and shimmied in closer to her tight snatch. My hands reached for those two gigantic tits, as they flopped loosely atop her chest, and I plunged my straining cock deep inside her hot box. I instructed her to rub her pouty clit as I banged away, and then I kneaded those fleshy pillows. With my thick cock driving inside her and her soft tits bouncing in figure-eights on her torso, I had to reflect on how this all began.
It was just the two of us. My mom Maryanne, a widowed homebody and myself. She was in her mid-forties, about 5'7", a tad overweight, with shoulder-length blondish hair. My bastard father had thankfully died before he could make anything official with his slutty mistress. So we were able to keep the house and live comfortably these past few years. My mom's sister would drop by once in a while for visits or dinners, but it was mostly just us in a small home on a quiet street.
My mom was a good mother. Caring and doting but kind of meek. She was plump with sagging, heavy tits and a round, soft rear-end. Around the house, she wore loose tees and baggy shorts, often without shoes or make-up and usually with her hair down or in a ponytail. I certainly never thought of her in a sexual way and though occasionally I caught a glimpse of her nipples on a cold day, or her generous cleavage as she leaned across the dinner table, I at no time, tried to catch her in a compromising position. It's funny how you never think of your mother as a sexual being. It didn't enter my mind that my mother could ever have fantasies or desires beyond being a wife and mother. And to imagine that she would sometimes think about oral sex or spankings seemed like an insult to me. I figured big tits and a warm, tight pussy were wasted on old broads.
I'm a few years past high-school and can't find steady employment so I work for a friend doing odd jobs. Some days moving furniture, others shoveling snow or patching roofs. I'm about six-foot and one-ninety. Sturdy but not particularly well-built. I have dirty-blonde hair like my mom and the same light blue eyes. My shoulders are wide and my arms are strong but I have a slight beer-gut and I admit to being abit lazy.
As I've grown older and we got used to spending so much time together, our relationship seemed to become more like roommates than family. I was the bread winner and paid the bills, doing whatever chores and repairs as needed. She shopped, cooked and cleaned and we often played cards or watched movies until bedtime.
After awhile she took to calling me "the man of the house," or "master of the keep." And I sometimes referred to her as "my serving wench," or "the chamber maid." These terms were meant in jest and were often accompanied by a friendly smack on the rump or an obsequious bow. And there were many instances of her massaging my aching shoulders or me rubbing her tired legs. Looking back now, I see a lot of physical contact and sexual innuendo.
I would sometimes draw her a warm bath with fragrant oils and she would make my bed and lay out new clothes that she had purchased for me. So we innocently caught each other in various stages of undress and often made jokingly lewd, or obscene remarks and comments on our anatomy.
One night I passed her in the hall as she was heading towards the bath. She had a big towel wrapped around her otherwise naked body, and as I stepped aside, I playfully tugged at the bottom of it. For a moment it slipped down past her big tits, fully exposing her puckered, pink areolae. She scrambled to cover herself and blushed deeply red, then scampered into the bathroom nervously laughing. From behind, I could see her ass-cheeks bounce as the towel was cinched higher up her body, and then she quickly closed the door.
Two things occurred to me then. First was that before, she had always worn a gown and robe at bedtime. Secondly, she had only turned to smile awkwardly and blush. There was no rebuke or scold. I didn't think much more about it but the image remained seared in my mind. My mom allowing me to see her big breasts, whether by accident or not, and the sight of her bare ass as she wobbled down the hall. It was the first time that I could remember actually picturing what my mother looked like nude.
For the next few days I began to visualize her body beneath whatever she had on. I watched as her flimsy bras tried to contain her double-d's. Climbing stairs, my eyes bounced with each shift of her ample butt-cheeks. Her bare legs revealed large, taut muscles at her calves and thighs that I had never noticed. And when she stood on her toes reaching for the top shelves, I spotted those nice legs and the small shirt riding up to expose her muffin-top belly peeking over her shorts. Then further up, those big boobs stood out proudly, the erect nipples poking through the thin cotton. And they shook like Jello as she landed softly on bare feet.
I found my cock getting hard while I watched her and getting stiffer still, when I stole away to my room to digest these emotions. I pounded away at my rigid rod with an image of an older woman kneeling before me, and a deviant desire to control and rape her.
I know I'm not sexually attracted to my mother. But does my swollen cock know better? My mom is not flaunting herself infront of me all of a sudden. But does my cock see hidden signs through all that? There are no incestuous thoughts flying between us. Then why is my cock always so damn hard when I see her now?
One day after work, I was indulging in my favorite pastime. Sitting at an outdoor bistro sipping a beer and watching the pretty ladies. Then another revelation hit me like a hammer. I was looking past the young ones and zoning in on their moms or other older women in the court yard. I spied the droop of a slightly heavier bust line. I noticed their laughlines or the crowsfeet around their worn eyes. The heavier walk but a more obvious mature appearance. I was filled with visions of tearing the shirt off of one of those older gals and shoving my cock up her tight pussy. I could hear her plead with me to rape her horny ass. Then she would drop to her knees and beg to be allowed to suck me.
And another odd bolt hit me. These young girls may possess something that the older ones no longer have, but the MILFs have something now, that the young ones can never imagine. I don't know what "that" is. But it's like a nurturing instinct combined with a care-free sexual dynamic. So that if she finds the right young guy who sparks her motherly side, he can bring out the devilish feelings she has hidden away. This is the kind of jumbled logic that I often use to make sense of my primal urgings. Instead of visiting a psychologist to confirm my diagnosis, I went to the local porno gallery. I should not have been surprised to find an enormous section devoted to incest, mom/son and various age- and dominance pleasures.
