Three-Way Spoon with My Two Sons

If you want to feel loved, try curling up, spooned between your two sons in a big crisp white hotel bed. There is nothing like feeling your eldest behind you. His muscular and firm body pressed against you, his hand lazily on your hip. Feeling his nineteen-year-old younger brother, slighter and more boyish, in front of you with your hand round his waist, is a delicious thing too. Trust me.

Hours before I was far from being so relaxed and comfortable. I was shouting and swearing at the receptionist at the Metropol Hotel, Sedona we had booked as part of our dream family road trip holiday. Do not underestimate how forceful a woman in her forties can get. I pulled myself up to my full five feet four inches, thrust out my impressive chest and, pun intended, gave her both barrels. The problem was the rooms. How had two mysteriously become one? Had my clear instructions to book a double for me and a twin for my two sons, who were unhelpfully standing way, way behind me looking embarrassed, been ignored? I was probably being unreasonable. It was hardly the fault of the mousy brunette in front of me. Clara, it said on her name tag. She was just unlucky enough to be on the desk I guess. As my anger rose, she glimpsed behind me and a smile played across her lips on seeing my boys. I caught my eldest, Hamilton, flash a smile back with his handsome features and sparkling eyes. Now, it seems Clara would go and see what she could do. Men? They get it easy. Damn them.

Minutes later we were being whisked up to an upgraded room by way of an apology. A computer error was to blame apparently. Hamilton was flirting with new best friend Clara all the way. I swear she undid a button of her blouse, flashing more of her smooth milky white, and admittedly cute, tits than was strictly necessary. I took immature pride in the fact that mine were bigger and my cleavage was deeper. I suppose I ought to be proud of my oldest boy. His charm and sex appeal did at least get us a nicer room although one we would have to share.

Hamilton's brother, Scott had none of his older brother's swagger. Still a teenager for another few months, he still had a lot of confidence to build. I felt for him as we made small talk. Why didn't Clara like him, I pondered. A thought crossed my mind. I should intervene for my younger more sensitive son. Put in a word for him. Pimp him out. The thought quickly passed as inappropriate. Besides, his day would come. Busty Clara eventually left us alone with a swing of her hips and wave at Hamilton.

I suddenly realised how tired we were. I told the boys too who agreed. All our eyes turned to the huge, luxurious bed. We coyly prepared for the night. I wish I had packed something different as I changed in the bathroom. My pyjamas had a plunging neckline and left me feeling self-conscious. I couldn't face sleeping in my bra though which meant I skipped from the bathroom to the bed at speed. The boys, just in pyjama bottoms hesitated before joining either side of me.

We all stared at the ceiling for a while, hearing each other breath. I mean there was nothing weird about sharing such a big bed. Was there? There is no denying we felt different though. Odd. Excited? Maybe. I'm not sure how we ended up snuggling up to each other and spooning, but that's how we fell asleep. In each other's arms. Loved. There are worse things.

I can't be sure what woke me. The sun, possibly. A shaft of light through the Metropol Hotel blinds. The noise of a small town waking up. I suspect it was two young men heavy breathing beside me. Were they awake? I couldn't tell. At least I couldn't tell until Hamilton moved the hand that had been resting on my hip up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him. Tighter. His own mother. In my mind, I pictured him doing the same to Clara the receptionist. Half-awake, half asleep I pictured her laying where I was laying. In his arms. Her breasts falling out of pyjama top like mine. His eyes on her. His body aroused. It was a delicious half-dream. I shifted slightly and instinctively pulled Hamilton's younger brother closer to me in turn. My breasts pushing into his bare back. My hand round his waist.

All three of us intertwined. My thoughts turning to taboo sensuality. I joined my sons in breathing more heavily in the semi-darkness of early morning. After a while, Hamilton moved his hand again. Of course, Hamilton, more confident, more assured. I moved my hand forward in response without thinking. His moving upward from my waist. Mine moving round Scott's body. Eventually, he skimmed the underside of my breast with curious fingers and. I, oh God, found his brother's sleeping cock with mine.

I brushed it lightly through the cotton of Scott's pyjama bottoms. It felt warm and ready. What kind of mother was I? Letting one son fondle me and fondling the other myself. I felt Scott squirm against me as his brother gained yet more confidence. His fingers finding a nipple. Teasing it through the material stretched across my chest. Such a delicate touch. We couldn't pretend to be asleep now. We couldn't pretend this wasn't happening. The three of us were being intimate in a way no family should. Still, we didn't stop.

Scott swelled under my touch. I felt my other son's growing erection press into my thigh from behind. I couldn't move through a combination of fear and excitement. How had we got here? I kept stock still as I felt Hamilton's dick slide forward and back. It was only millimetres initially. Soon his whole length felt hot and hard against me though. I wanted him. I wanted his brother too. I was a nasty, filthy mother. Dare I do more? Dare I not?

The decision was made for me as Hamilton paused slightly and undid the button of my pyjama top. The thin silk material fell open giving him full access to my tits. At the same time, Scott's cock grew between my fingers until it felt rock hard, hot and heavy. I slid my hand under the waistband of his pyjamas desperate to touch it unimpeded.

As my hand explored one son, the other shifted his position until his thick, hard cock nestled between the curves of my ass. Honestly, it was as if it was designed to fit. His hips building rhythmically. Our attempts to hide our lust by pretending to still be asleep were abandoned. All three of us moaned and sighed, our inhibitions lost. Then Scott whispered mommy as I circled the base of his cock in a gentle grip. As he did, I felt breath on my neck and then a kiss from Hamilton's lips. I don't think my pussy had ever been wetter by this point. Not in my life. Not with any of my previous lovers. This was without question the single most erotic thing I'd ever experienced. I was utterly lost and out of control. I gripped Scott's cock with my right hand, pulling my pyjama bottoms down urgently with the right. I wanted to feel Hamilton against my skin, I wanted his heat and hardness. God, I was lightheaded as his cock slid back into place. Inches from my wetness.

Both my boys were working towards orgasm. The youngest in my fist, the oldest sliding against my arse, dipping between the cheeks, so close to an incestuous fuck. At that thought, my free hand dipped between my thighs finding my slick wet slit. The three of us moving as one as I went further and found the nub of my clit and let out a long ecstatic moan from the very depths of depravity.

It was Scott, in front of me, who broke the momentum briefly by brushing my hand away from his dick. Initial confusion and disappointed left me quickly as he turned around to face me, bouncing on the soft mattress before leaning in and pressing his lips to his mother's. We made out hard, tongues intertwined. His hard cock, free from my hand, pressed into my stomach as his brother raised the pace too. He pulled back, I heard him moan and I sensed he had wrapped his fist around his manhood. Unashamedly jerking over his mother's body. God, he was going to cum on me. The thought made me kiss his brother all the harder who responded with his fingers. They joined mine at my cunt clumsily. His inexperienced finger fucking making the whole experience feel dirtier and nastier.

I felt my older son stiffen behind me, then heard a moan and warm wetness hit my ass. Jet after jet of stickiness landed on my cheeks, thighs and back as Hamilton pumped over his mother. I pulled Scott close and rocked my hips, riding his hand through my own orgasm. I lost my mind. Eyes rolling, body shaking. A long guttural scream coming from somewhere primeval and shameless.

As I recovered, laid on my back, Scott raised himself to his knees above me. My body flushed red and waiting expectantly for what was to come. Like a good dutiful son, Scott pointed his engorged cock at me. After two or three strokes, he let out a groan of his own and splattered me with ropes and ropes of jizz. My breasts, neck and face were painted. It felt heavenly to be so slutty.

Within the space of a few minutes, the three of us had had the best orgasms of our lives and broken the biggest of all taboos. In the glowing aftermath, we snuggled in a three-way spoon again. My boys with their mother. As I drifted off again, I felt them massaging their cum into my skin. I have never felt happier.