Standard warning before you start:
This story is completely a work of fiction involving sexual relations between family members. All characters are over the age of 18. Also, this story deals with realistic bodily fluids and odors as they relate to sex. If none of this sounds like a turn off to you, then proceed and enjoy.
*
Time seemed to crawl, my attention constantly drawn back to that annoying space between my legs.
It took all the restraint I had to keep from rubbing that sensitive little bud hidden in my panties. A number of times that restraint broke and I'd find myself rubbing myself through the sweatpants I had thrown on that morning. Upon realizing I was groping myself I'd pull my hand away with a disappointed sigh.
Twice I had tried to alleviate the need for release. Both attempts ended in failure and frustration.
The first was just after I had eaten lunch. I had rubbed my crotch while eating a number of times, briefly but with great pressure. I decided that in order to put my mind right I would give myself a quick cum. I hurried upstairs and stripped out of my sweatpants and tank top. With no bra on, the last step was to pull of my panties, the crotch of which was painted with my excited discharge. I stepped out of them and laid down on the bed.
Breathing slowly I ran my hands up and down my nude body. Goosebumps covered most of me, from a mixture of exposed skin and my heightened arousal. A moan escaped my lips as one hand found it's place on a heavy tit and the other slipped down over the prickly hair of my bush and onto my warm wet labia. My middle finger pressed into the cleft between the lips, collecting juice at my opening and then slid up to bathe my engorged clitoris.
I brought my hand away from my breast and stuck my first two fingers in my mouth and covered them in saliva. I returned it to my nipple, smearing the wetness on the hardened nub. Having lubricated my sensitive areas, I started to manipulate them eagerly, my mind replaying previous experiences with my son.
I had a strong vision in my mind of him on top of me. His brow was dabbled with sweat, his short hair tousled. He stared down into my eyes as I glared up into his. We exchanged grins as he bucked his hips at me, his dick sliding into my slippery cunt. With each strong thrust into me, my large tits bounced on my chest.
"Yeah baby, fuck me. Fuck me." I said softly to the empty room.
My finger moved back down from my clit to the gooey opening and slid easily inside. I slid it in and out as my palm ground against my damp clit. My other hand continued it's work on my tit, fumbling and tweaking the nipple.
In my mind he reached out and gripped the tit as he fucked, so I reacted, squeezing it as hard as he would.
"Fuck me, fuck your mother." I purred as the sound of my finger sliding in and out of my juicy pussy filled the room.
My hips rose slightly into the air to meet his thrusts and then it happened: The vision of my son escaped my mind, his cock no longer wedged in my cunt, his hand no longer painfully clenching my motherly tit. Instead my mind was filled with the memory of that taste, the horrible flavor of our combined juices.
My hips fell back to the bed and my sticky finger slipped out of my pussy. I pulled in a big lungful of air, held it a moment and then let it out in a sigh. I released my tit and clenched both fits as anger and frustration ran through me like a train.
"Fffuuuck!" I shouted into the room, my chest heaving.
I slid off of the bed and got dressed, not bothering to clean the froth from my pussy as the panties I put on were already covered in the mess.
I went back to work around the house, trying the best I could to keep my mind off sex but it was hopeless.
The dryer sung it's song to signal it had finished it's cycle. I emptied it and brought the basket of clean clothes upstairs to fold and put away. I opened Mark's sock drawer to refill his supply when I noticed the crumpled box stuffed in the back of the drawer. I pulled the box out and saw it was what remained of the last box of condoms he bought to use with me.
It had been around six months since I divorced his father and it wasn't long after that my son and I first started fucking. It was almost four months before that that my ex-husband and I had stopped having sex. As a result of that I let my birth control prescription lapse. So when Mark finally found his way to my bed, I made him use condoms. I quickly went to the doctor and went back on the pill, but to be on the safe side we continued to use condoms for a couple of months.
Finding the half-empty box of rubbers stashed in his sock drawer took me back to the first night I let him enter me bare. My body flushed with excitement again so I put my work aside again, threw the box back in the dresser drawer and headed for the bathroom.
Again I stripped nude, tossing my clothes into a pile on the tile floor. I lowered the toilet lit and sat on it. Leaning back against the porcelain tank I let out a gasp as the coolness of it pressed against my back.
I wasted no time and pushed two fingers into my still-creamy cunt, rewinding my mind to the first time Mark slid his dick into me without protection. He had plunged with a great deal of eagerness but I was wet and ready for his cock. He didn't last long that first time, feeling the velvety wetness of my pussy against his firm cock. But luckily he remained hard after expelling his first batch of seed into me.
My mind continue to play our encounter. With his heavy balls emptied, he focused on my pleasure. He pushed into me slow and firmly, pulling out quickly and fucking into me again. He kept up this slow but steady pace until he could tell I was getting closet to cumming and then he reached down to grind my clitoris with his thumb.
I mimicked his motions as I sat, spread wide on the toilet, using two fingers of one hand to rub my small nub as two fingers on my other hand slid in and out of my cunt.
The phone rang, startling me from my steamy dream. The first ring came in through the open bathroom door, the phone sitting at my nightstand. I glared at the phone and tried to ignore it, my fingers continuing their work. By the third ring I gave up. I slid my fingers out of my pussy and stood up.
I walked quickly to the phone, my blood boiling with anger.
"Hello?" I said into the receiver, trying to hide the emotion in my voice. The scent of my pussy emanated from the fingers that held the phone.
"Hey. Mark there?" my ex-husband said on the other end.
"No, he's at work." I said, letting some of the sharpness seep into my voice.
He sighed. "I'll call back." He said and then hung up.
I slammed down the phone and went back to the bathroom to wash the juices from my hands, cursing under my breath. I had a strong urge to cry, my unsatisfied sexual needs taking a toll on my emotions.
Before leaving the bathroom I pulled off a handful of toilet paper and wiped down the lid of the toilet, cleaning it of my excitement. I took my balled up clothing and tossed them in the hamper, then went into the bedroom to put on something a bit more sexy than sweatpants.
After rummaging through my closet for a bit I came out with a long grey skirt and a low-cut and tight-fitting blue blouse. I put them on, leaving myself bare underneath. Mark would be home soon and I wanted to be ready for him.
I went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine to settle my nerves. Leaning back against the counter I contemplated what I would do when my boy came home. I finished the first glass, poured another and went and sat at the dining room table.
"Perfect." I said with a smile and then finished the second glass. I was feeling a little loose and went to fill the glass a third time. I heard the faint purr of an engine followed by the slam of a car door. I hurried back into the dining room and, after setting my wineglass aside, I slid my ass up onto the table, crossing my legs as they dangled over the edge. Letting out a quick giggle I picked up my glass and took a nice big gulp, my nerves jingling and my pulse racing.
Mark came in the front door and into the dining room on his way to the kitchen. He stopped and looked at me with surprise. A queer look lit up his face as he looked at me, glancing at my wine glass and up and down my body as I sat on the table. I couldn't help but let out another girlish giggle.
He smiled widely. "What's going on, mom?" He said, chuckling along with me.
I just gave him an exaggerated shrug, my eyebrows raised in a coquettish I-don't-know expression.
He laughed again which made me almost spit the mouthful of wine I had just poured over my lips. He stepped up to the table and placed his hand on my bare calf. He lifted my leg up over the other, uncrossing my legs. I set the glass aside and stared at him, the smile on my face melting into a glazed look of lust.
He then slid a hand up along both my legs, slipping under my skirt until they reached my hips. He smiled again as his hands searched for panties to pull down, finding none. Both hands slid inward and gently rubbed my bare thighs, his fingertips brushing against my wetness, sending a greedy moan from my lungs, my breath strong with wine.
A hand went up to where my skirt met my waist and then slowly slid down through my tuft of hair.
"Doormat." he whispered with a grin. All I could do was groan.
Just before his fingers met my shaven cunt he slid them back away, out to my hips. With his hands firmly gripping my fleshy hips he leaned in and kissed me, his tongue diving into my mouth which I happily sucked. I grabbed his sides and stared into his eyes, panting heavily.
