Good Golly, Mrs. Mommy !

by DiscipleN


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You know how it is, when it 's your birthday, and you 've unwrapped your presents, and you blow out the cd on your birthday cake, and everyone wishes you 'HAPPY birthday ! !', and they sing songs and swat your rump, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to bang her Sir Thomas More than anything ? Well, I do n't care if you think that 's messed up, or that I should cut off my scrotum and sew it into a all-fired hand bag. When you consider what happened side by side, you would n't handle either !

'' Dear, would you please get my hand bag ? '' Mother smiled. She wiped a big glob of whisk pick from the recess of her mouth and licked her fingers. `` Just mean, in a match geezerhood, we 'll be capable to celebrate with something more potent than deep brown cake and ice pick. ``

'' Sure mom. '' I reached for the diminutive imitation of a carpetbag sitting on the kitchen counter. I handed it over and watched her pry into its packed table of contents.

'' I 'm so glad you took that base economics socio-economic class, your cake is delicious ! '' She was kind not to note that whipped ointment was an unusual ice for hot chocolate cake. She continued to mine her handbag. `` Here we go. '' female parent pulled her hand out of her feminine back pack and held up a condom.

'' Do you sleep together what this is ? '' She gave me a grim look.

'' Yeah mom, it 's a rubber. '' What 'd she think, that I was out of the loop of ninety nine percent of my high school day, like fundamentalist christians who are n't allowed to use the letter'x'in type they might spell out a frightful, three letter word with it ?

'' Oh, pooh. '' Mom instantly sulked. `` I know we should have had this talk of the town Oklahoman, but now that you know, I guess you 'll be wanting to tug the car.

'' Mom, I got my license a year ago. '' Something Wyrd was going on with her. I peered closer at mom. She did n't expect drunk, and I had n't seen her deglutition anything except bottled water.

'' Really, and what would your father say about that ? ``

To this astonishing remark, I said nothing. My dad, her one and only husband, was pushing down valkyries and tossing back beers in Walhalla. I believe I gaped.

'' Do n't give me that flavour young man. What if you got into an accident ? The family unit Desoto would be ruined, and your father would n't be able to commute to puzzle out. Why, he 'd have to take the bus like one of those piteous, unfortunate person blackamoor. ``

'Negroes ?'I pushed my chair back and seriously considered shitting in my drawers. Hell, Black guys in the school 's computer club would serve my ass for tri-tip if I ever called them Black person. And as for a Desoto, was n't he a Latin American middleweight ?

I burst out laughing. `` Right mom. That 's a full one. ``

'' Hmmph ! You listen to me, young man. I 'll not have you disesteem me like that. It may be your birthday, but you 're not too old to be sent to your room. ``

My wholehearted laugh caught in my throat and gagged me. I coughed and continued to cough. I could hardly breath with all that freaky in the way. Any back I expected Rod Serling to cringe out of the oven and give me the Heimleck maneuver.

'' Off you go. You can believe up there, about what I said, while I clean up this tidy sum. Do n't forget to postulate your presents. ``

Out of sheer incredulity, I stood up, grabbed my gift certificate for Wal-Mart and my three new Gamera DVDs, walked out, up the stairs, and into my room.

This had to be percentage of some secret plot of land to surprise me on my birthday. I went over the day in my heading, trying to observe a pattern.

I woke up, heard mom showering, and waited in my bed until she 'd left our bathroom. My brain drifted, trying to guess my mother 's firm hips and quart size breasts, their nipples swollen, water sweeping Georgia home boy suds down her tall, slim figure. I grabbed my boner and gave it a dauntless wanking, wondering if mother ever wanked her, as I imagined it, puffed out clit. It 's a dandy way to begin the day and pass time while the bathroom was occupied.

After my own shower, I met mom in the kitchen. She kissed me on the cheek and wished me happy birthday. I helped her gain breakfast. My mom is n't the greatest cook. She 's more likely to heat a packet boat of instant creamed cereal than whip up testicle florentine. We compromised and had scrambled eggs with my special hash browns.

Yeah, I got plenty of kidding taking a Home Ec. class, but a twosome girlfriend went out of their way to help me, although I admit I was n't so brave as to ask any of them out. I did get an A in baking. So naturally, it went unsaid that I would be baking the birthday cake. I could think of nothing abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a lean of ingredients to pluck up at the storehouse. She would gather me at noon, and I 'd use the school 's kitchen after my classes. I already had permit. I did n't particularly like our own kitchen oven, it had a smutty riding habit of dropping 30 grade in the centre of a two hr chateaubriant.

When she met me at noonday, she handed over an ice chest with all those yummy chocolate cake ingredient. She had n't spared any expense, gourmet drinking chocolate sauce, dutch hot chocolate pulverisation, climbing bittersweet coffee buffalo chip, organic flour, Milk, bollock, butter, whipping pick, cane sugar, and real vanilla excerption. Mom helped me lug the chest to the schoolhouse kitchen closet. It did n't fit my locker.

'' effective fate, Hank. I 'm gladiolus I wo n't be around to shaft it up by accident. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen putz with the same 'big wrench'attitude as her study tools.

There was nothing odd about mom at lunch clock time. The first brokenheartedness in my day came from an unexpected focus. When the school bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen eager to craft some rich chocolate patty. I could taste the tender good, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my point. It would be a long wait while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long hold. There, standing around the unfastened closet and opened ice thorax were six guy cable from the hockey team. Their sassing were covered with benighted sauce, and they pulled on the Milk River carton like they were partying at a kegger.

'' What the screwing ! That was suppose to be my birthday cake. '' I screamed at them. I did n't experience I had it in me.

The biggest one of them looked my way and chuckled. `` Happy birthday twirp. You 're receive to whatever 's left. ``

'' Sorry. '' Another turned to me and grinned. The other four grinned and said 'likewise'down the stemma. They all burst out laughing. Daring me to present them more. I stood there simultaneously angry and ossify with reverence.

Having finished raiding the 'good bits'in the ice bureau, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the threshold. The last-place one cracked an egg over my head word. He had the nerve to explicate the obvious.

'' Loser, we 're jock. When we see an opportunity, we take it. Malcolm spied you lugging the chest in here and overheard you say chocolate to that old wide. Your mum, eh ? Not a bad looker for person who had a boy as ugly as you. ``

The door slammed behind me, my consistency quivering from their ominous subtext. Egg white dripped down my nose. I think I had a fit then. The quick afterward is a blur in my store. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my header in a sinkhole I took stocktaking of what was left : three eggs, whipping cream, butter, and a sacking of flour evidently used in a game of collar. Even the vanilla bottle was missing. One of them must take in been able to study the Logos alcohol on the label. I was upset, but I was n't devastated. I prowled around the kitchen looking for something, anything that might help me get a grip. In the far corner of the Saame closet I found a composition board box of old food poppycock.

well-nigh schooltime do n't offer cooking course anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as slow to exchange as it 's mascot. The stuff I discovered must have been collected over the years, things that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda pop, navy edible bean, various spices ( probably flavorless ), dried mushroom, powdered sugar, and a few box admixture for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring sloppy joes. At the very underside, I noticed an ancient looking logo for `` aunt Rocker 's Devil 's solid food Cake ''. It was an old box mix for chocolate cake.

The date stamp on it ... Scheol, there was n't a date cast on it. The stylemark date for the logo said 1947. I did n't wish. Two hours later, I returned home, quick to celebrate my birthday. The merely thing that bugged me was, mother did n't seem to notice the remainder between one of my Bodoni oven wonderment and this trite effigy to a woman 's place in the home base. She had two helping. I carved a narrow slicing but could n't swallow more than a few bites of it 's sawdust like consistency. I begged bread maker 's snacking as an excuse for being wide-cut. I did notice mom 's redundant helpings of whipped ointment and ice emollient with each slice. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the condom. tinker's damn, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my room. I poisoned my own mother with fossilized bar mix ! All those chemical stabilizers and texturizers and artificial flavor and colors must stimulate combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd better call the doctor !

Right, and tell her what ? mum 's acting like a pouter ? She 's delirious, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the physician 's bill for that emergency speech sound call. All I could do was sit on my bed and hybridise my digit, hoping her immune system would fight off the chemicals.

A couple hours later, boredom and a genuine worry about my mother forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a peek from mom since she 'd consecrate me to allow. I found her in the bread and butter room, sitting straight up on the couch, staring at the curtains like a prairie dog.

When she heard me sit down beside her, she blinked. `` I 'm afraid your father must be delayed at work. '' She patted my stifle and tried to appear consoling.

'' Mom, dad died three age ago. '' I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could lose it her out of it, but my own memory of his red welled up in my heart.

She simply stared blankly, neither at me nor the window curtain. It was like I 'd turned off a automaton. I sat with her for what seemed like an hour, but she did n't strike.

Eventually, I started to get horny. This is not as absurd as it sounds. If I did n't get horny at least three times a day, I 'd feel like my hormonal balance had begun it 's slow decline into middle-age.

I found myself staring at my female parent 's tits. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my drawers, trying to advertise it directly behind the zipper. When she did n't exact notice, I took a good flavour. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a hint of a dark round behind her bra ? My fingering became a tripping tapping. The cock in my pants had begun it 's dying march. I knew I 'd have to ball up a wad soon, or I 'd be in drab orchis hell. Mother did n't make a motion a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't oppose. Her hide felt terribly warm, as if she were running a pyrexia. I placed the spinal column of my hand to her brow. It was hot. I felt a illumine stew on her forehead. I noticed her cheek glistening like a perfect, porcelain doll. I could n't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far face of her treat boob. My cock did a terpsichore in my pant, but it did n't shoot. I was n't that close. I felt her movement then. She looked up first and then at my incursive hand. Then her head swiveled back and her centre met mine.

'' Oh honey, I have a painful headache. Maybe we can do this another prison term. '' That said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the step to her bedroom. I was the one who did n't move then. My mind was flooded with incredible ideas, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her door close, I opened my pants and released the throbbing brute that commanded me. After several hardy jerks on my dickhead, I shot XIV tablespoon of sperm into the carpet.

The next first light, I was able to get into the exhibitor first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother was n't anywhere below. Hell, she 's going to be of late for work. I had almost forgotten the night before. I raced upstairs to her bedroom and pounded on the door !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a weak response. I turned the knob and opened the door just a crack. mother was lying in bed, arms and legs askew, her partially opened doll and shirt clung half on to her body. My dick instantly responded. I stepped inside. `` Mom ? Are you okay ? ``

'' Oooohhhhh, I have the speculative headache ! '' She tried to rise, but failed. Her half address underwear caught my attention for more than a few seconds.

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the lavatory and pulled the bottle from a ledge. I filled a rinsing glass and brought them both to her. I had to feed the tablets into her mouth and go for the glass up to her lips. I sneaked another peep at her chest. There really were dark circles visible through her bra.

'' My coat of arms feel like dead weight, and my stomach is fluttering. How much did I drink last Nox ? ``

`` Are you kidding ! '' I gulped and nearly told her she had n't wassail a drop.

'' What happened ? I must have been blitzed. Oh Hank, I hope I did n't deflower your birthday. ''

'' You do n't remember ? ``

'' The last thing I remember was you blowing out your taper. ``

'' I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a little expect away. '' I improvised. Some of those ideas from go nighttime were filtering back into my foreland. All of them had to do with what she 'd said. 'Maybe we can do this another time .'

Already, I was telling myself that my female parent was n't all that spoilt for the cake she 'd eaten. She looked better and better the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be belatedly for work. You 'd better scram to school. I 'll be fine. Just catch something quick for dejeuner, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my full-grown boy. '' She smiled then, quite unaware that I was growing with child length in the presence of her disorder article of clothing. I could even see a corner of her white cotton plant scanty. Only with great sorrow did I leave mom and race off to school. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to hold for sure the sleep of the chocolate bar had been saved. It had.

I returned home, I swear, before the school bell finished ringing. At outset I thought I 'd entered the wrong house. A coat wrack I 'd never seen before greeted me at the threshold. There were ping throw pillows on the lounge, and several orderly row of collector dinner plateful had been attached to the far paries. The station was spotless. We never lived in sordidness, but the best you could call mom 's and my life-style would be 'casual'. The article of furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic liners on the reclining chair and lounge. Whoa, what kind of maiden service had mom hired this month ?

I entered in a befuddled haze, not paying attending to subtle sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen. My home had shifted into the understudy attribute of some black and egg white sitcom ! I hung my backpack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it fall to the floor. The nominal head room access remained undetermined behind me.

'' dearest, are you nursing home ? '' female parent sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the odor hit me.

'' Mom, are you cooking ? What is that foul ... ''

'' It 's fish. Friday is fried fish, remember ? ``

She must have been trying to make recondite fried sushi from rusted cans of tuna cat food for thought. Mother appeared, smiling, at the threshold. A frilly wearing apparel with pleat and layers covered her from berm to ankles. It 's pastel green clashed with the living room 's deep purple, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a solid peck on my cheek.

'' It 's been a long day without the man around the house. But I managed to satisfy the time. How was your day, hon ? ``

'' Mom, did you eat any of my birthday cake today ? ``

Mom gave me a surprised look. `` Oh, I guess you caught me, ha ha. I doubt Hank likes the cake he made. What could liken to a female parent 's home cooking ? I wondered why he did n't cut a gash before he ran out this morning. I figured it was fair game after that. ``

Hank ? third gear person ? What was I, tuna fish ? The olfactory perception was oppressing my ability to think clearly.

'' Uh, that 's hunky-dory, mom. What 's for dinner ? ``

'' You must be famished after a toilsome day at the government agency, poor affair. I 'll get your skidder while you sit and relax. How about an supernumerary dry martini ? '' My female parent kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the room, patting the recliner, checking the closet for carpet slipper that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a blade new pair and fetched them over like a dog happy to recognise its sea captain. `` I made you your favorite, dear, tuna casserole with American cheeseflower. ``

Oh shit, she thought I was her hubby ! ( Not my father, but some assumed ikon of a married man. ) Oh fuck. crap ! What am I going to ... Oh ... ping ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my psyche had something to help oneself struggle the nasty aroma in the menage. That something was my put up shaft ! The Epiphany of Our Lord which hit me then convinced me that my occult lust 's time had come. As the husband of a properly obedient wife, I could write my own scenarios and mother would be my prompt actress.

'' Um, do n't bother with the John Barleycorn, er, dearest. I 'll just sit and think, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my place in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my back and clung to every inch of let out hide. Right away, it made me itch.

Mother knelt down before me and began untying the laces on my sneakers. I could see her segmentation, her full lips, her cheerful eyes. I lost it then. My putz could contract only so much. I unzipped my pants and fished out it 's full length through my jockey shorts.

female parent looked up and froze. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a thought in her psyche. It never existed before the sixties, at least in her psyche. How could she object to something that was morally inert ? If holding up a safety was her entire talking to about human gender, then she was begging for some serious study. parole of immense wisdom returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an opportunity, take it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's surprised headway with its open sass and planted it over my stiff fuck shaft !

'' Do n't mind me, honey. This will be far more relaxing than a martini ! '' I cried.

I began using her point to masturbate my pulsing cock. It was read clock time ! I was so horny and gleeful at my audacity, I did n't consider the thousand unpleasant and even grave ways my mother could react.

For the first base ten or so poundings of her face to my prick, she remained frozen. She began to dethaw as I continued to fuck my cock into her jaws. Her lip softened and her spit began to lap the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my balls at wide-cut insertion.

'' That 's right mommy, get a good taste of your boy 's putz. He 's had a goon day at schooling. '' I stopped acting like her imaginary hubby on purpose. I wanted to fuck my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her brain had been fried. My hips pushed Sir Thomas More tool into mother 's mouth.

I felt her head move on it 's own willing. Her plunk sass seared across my shaft quickening its pulse, my pulsation. My manus relaxed and there we were fully engaged in heavy pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My balls lurched and churned. Muscles contracted and spermatozoon leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. immerse it, every shooter, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my pecker and seared her pharynx. Jet after jet scored into her mouth. Mother 's sass sucked and gulped, my wide-cut prick poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until musculus failed and bollock ran dry. I held her headway and gasped for breather. I could take heed air howl out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe.

Pulling my softening stopcock from her mouth, I told her, `` You 're a looker, honey. '' It was the first corny line I could remember from 'My Three opera hat'or whatever that show was called.

Her smile was n't the same, but I 'd give it an A for exertion. She blinked and looked a bit at sea, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was effective. sun peered around her shadow of doubt and lit my humiliated body. She actually kissed the face of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

'' dinner will be ready in five arcminute. '' She reassured me.

In five minutes, my cock would be ready. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the head of the table. The intellectual nourishment was horrendous ! Imagine tuna fish fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into half cooked pasta and dried pea. Now add a level of artificial yellow paving across the top and you end up with give way utensils and no appetence. The green bonce on the slope were brown and soppy. The spud could have been used as a roulette wheel block, and the Milk, even the frigging Milk River tasted it like it had been pissed in.

'' What did you do with the Milk River, mom ? '' I asked as I ran to the swallow hole to flush the rest down the cesspit, gargle the glass, and fill it. Sink water tasted in effect than that milk.

'' Oh honey, is it bad ? I guess I must have left it in the sun while I was preparing supper.

'' When did you train supper. ``

'' Right after lunch. Are you ready for afters ? ``

My patty ! I rushed to the refrigerator, but the cake was n't there. Suddenly through the melt off smoke in the kitchen, I noticed a peculiar, sweet, burning odor shuffle with the repose of my female parent 's attempt at making phosgene gas. The oven !

A gout of hummer poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot plane supporting what was left of my patty. `` AAAHHH ! '' I screamed when the sheet seared my fingers.

'' Oh honey, let me get some butter for that. '' female parent rose delicately and searched the refrigerator. `` I thought the cake would be more yummy warm. ``

Unfaltering, I snagged a towel and finally rescued the cake. It was covered in char whipped ointment. I despaired to the degree of tears as I set the smoking half circle of bar on the counter.

mother reached me and began to chill my scald finger with the butter.

Paying her no mind, I took a knife and scraped off the oxford gray coating. To my immense rest, the bar beneath was fine. `` Um, mom ? ``

'' Yes dear ? '' Her smile beamed once again.

'' Let 's spare the patty for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to stick by my tongue into her backtalk. My dick was ready for troll two.

Mother pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the articulatio humeri. `` Really, dearest you ought to behave. I have such a worry. Maybe we can do this another meter. ''

I wish I had raped her then. We were down to half a cake.


-- -- -- snag -- -- --


The next break of day, I could n't recite if mom was bad off for the drug. She had looked so devastated the day before.

'' Mom are you all right ? ``

'' Oh, Hank, did you get the phone number of that truck ? '' She was holding her nous and teetering in the bed. Her solely clothing were scanty and a bra. The society dress lay on the trading floor next to the bed.

'' Let me help you in the cascade. '' I suggested.

She swatted my hands away. `` I 'm not in good order sport, better absolved out. How could I have gotten so wasted a minute day in a row. Did I even go into work yesterday ? ``

I answered her from the doorway. `` I think you slept all day. Maybe you 've caught some weird bug, mom. Are n't you glad it 's Sat ? ``

'' Sick on a weekend ? crud. Better stop clear up, Hank. I would n't want you to catch this thing. There 's a rolls-royce turbofan on afterburner incinerating the inside of my skull.

Closing the doorway to a discreet, hairline snap, I called to her. `` How 's your appetency ? ``

'' My mouthpiece feels like it sucked co ..., er pickles, all night long. I do n't desire anything. arrive at yourself something. '' Then delicate, `` Maybe a shower is the right-hand affair. ``

I heard her embroil herself off the bed. I hightailed it into the kitchen.

When the shower turned off, I gave mom ten minutes to dry herself and dress. I returned to her threshold and knocked.

'' Feel better ? ``

'' A lilliputian bit. ``

I opened the doorway and peered in.

'' Hey ! Do n't come in ! ``

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her panty and was fumbling with her bra. Her soft tits hung off her chest like two small cantaloupes. No wonder I was in lust with my mother. I associated skinny tits with anorectic and fat bosom with either obesity or silicone. Mom 's were double-dyed for me, her teat were also sized in sour moderation. That was all I could glean before pulling back behind the door.

My tool raged to touch them. `` Hey mom, maybe a nimble bite before you begin your day. '' Without looking inside again, I set down on the carpeting, the saucer I had been carrying and slid it through the opening. I placed a novel ice of milk, from a new carton, just inside the door.

'' Cake ? '' Mom wondered aloud. `` For breakfast ? ``

'' Yeah, mom, I even made sassy whipped cream. The original emollient did n't keep very well. '' I had more cream waiting for her, inside my pants.

'' You did n't have to difficulty yourself. My stomach is still rather queazy. ``

Drat ! She was n't going to devolve for it.

'' Oh, maybe just a collation. A picayune wampum might hasten my appetite. I tell you every time you 're be sick that a footling food keep your metabolism strong. It 's meter to use up my own advice. ``

'' YES ! '' I yelled silently. I heard the fork rattle on the beauty. She was still shaky from her 'hangover'.

For the first time, I would be able to mensurate how prospicient the cake took to invoke it 's effect. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my tool and shooting a few ropes of cum through my mother 's door, but I steeled myself for the effort.

It took exactly fifteen minutes.

'' Hank, you 'd amend not be late for school again, or I 'll have to birth a lecture with your teacher ! Do n't forget to play your theme straight to me. I 'll sustain a star waiting for every'A'. ''

It was all I needed to hear. She was back to living a five day week. I rushed inside the sleeping accommodation. She stood radiant in her blue, pink prime bespeckled, family attire. Even her hair had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the middle of her room and drove her back down upon the bed.

'' What in mercifulness 's name ? '' She cried out.

I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pants down my branch. I straightened up and gave her a good look at my rampant organ.

Just like the previous night, she froze, this sentence facing pages bird of Jove across her bed, legs hanging over the side of meat. I lifted her wearing apparel above her thighs and revealed her blanched panties. I pulled them down off of her legs and leaped on top of her.

'' My goodness, what is all this ? '' She sputtered, staring wildly at the ceiling.

My cockhead found her pussy, but it did n't slew in. She was dry. Reaching between us, I aimed my hammer where I thought pussy was, and I thrust myself inside her.

'' Ooowww ! Hank, are you sure you 're not going to be late for school ! ``

'' Mom, you sure may be late for your period ! '' I answered with a roar and fucked hard cock into unwilling snatch. It was hard on me too. Her dry cunt scoured my member, but I did n't care. I was finally fucking my mother.

'' Oohh, it 's so commodity, mother ! I can hardly wait to meet your inside with my backed-up freight of spermatozoon ! ''

'' That 's okay, beloved. I 'll strip up the raft in the kitchen. You just run along. ``

I was running, running my engorged prick inside and out of the hole where I was born. My lust drove me like a sprinter. I could feel her cunt passage begin to lubricate. Her strong folds massaged my tool like no back talk ever could. Our frictioning tissue were soon bathed in mommy cunt juices and son prick up pre-cum.

'' This is groovy mom ! I 'm fucking you so groovy ! '' I could n't conceive it. I was raping my own mother, and she did n't have a hint about what I was doing to her. Whatever that cake had, it was better than any date Brassica napus drug I 'd ever learn of. My cock plunged with gleefulness. My consistence was already sweating and twitching. My nerves ramped up their pleasure force faster than ever.

'' Yes, you go right ahead and take in your affair. Do you need mommy to motor you to school ? '' I felt her pushing back with her hips. Cunt sucked cock deeper with every thrust. `` Oh love, what 's that ? '' My mother suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My completely soundbox detected the first spasms of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to blow too. If only I could produce it last, but my long repressed lusts could be delayed no boost.

'' I really need to vacuum around here ! '' Mother yelled ecstatically.

My rooster was bursting to industrial plant seed into its place of origination. I could feel the wave of my orgasm rush up from my prick and down from my psyche, filling my sleeve and ramification and exploding out from my center.

'' I 'm cumming, mom, I 'm UUUNNNNGGGGHHHH ! ! ! COMMMING ! ! ! ! '' My cum rushed out from my balls and blasted the bulwark of her puss, forcing jism through the iris of her cervix.

'' Huh-HUH, UUUHHHGGG, 'urry up, son ! ! ! '' She screamed then. I could feel her snatch contracting and sucking each jerking of incestuous cream into her womb. `` We do n't require to be LAAAAHHHH-ate ! '' Her arms wrapped around me and hugged me arduous against her tits.

Even as I continued to cum, I was tearing at the top of her frock, revealing her bra and working to unloosen her tits. I sucked on them like a mad motherfucker.

'' Ohhh, ooohh, '' Mother began to cool down. `` Honestly, Hank, this is not the time to be fooling around ! My haircloth, it must seem a-fright. What ever am I going to do with you ? ``

'' I think you should absorb on my dick. '' I stopped engorging my expression on her tits and crawled up over her done for mansion garb. When my knees reached her articulatio humeri, I fed wet nub into her bewildered afirmament. She sucked.

We spent full day worshiping my stopcock. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was black and blue. I shot load after load of salty, hot cream into her baby maker until my chunk went numb from the exploit and my dick could n't hold more than an inch upright.

The following break of the day was the same, except she woke up with an even uncollectible headache and had bruise all over her body. I told her she needed to see a medico. I lied to her about an assignment, but before we left I offered her another slice of cake. We never made it out the doorway. In fact I even convinced her I was the spew one, and she wrote an excuse to be absent from schooling for a whole week.

The day after the 1st rape of my female parent, I eased back my ardor and was more careful about leaving tattler chump. I did leave my day 's output of incestuous sperm in her belly.

We repeated our little fun every day for the repose of the week. I did n't try to cheat myself. I cut the same size of cake slice each time. It was going to run out eventually, and I did n't want her to be only one-half drugged. She had every right field to haul my ass off to jail and dare my cellmates to plant their seminal fluid inside me. Oh no !

When the conclusion slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a strict dieting of whacking off but with advantageously memory board to cum over. It took a duo workweek before I could bear to fill the cake phonograph record out of the fridge. ( I told you our menage was n't the tidiest. )

female parent was writing something in her proletarian 's maintenance diary at the kitchen tabular array. I could n't stop myself. I set the platter on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her shank to cup her titmouse, wanting to massage them one last clock time.

female parent spun around, and she slapped my face, hard ! `` Hank ! We may survive in a fairly free thinking, forward-looking world, but everything has it 's terminal point. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the void cake plate to the sump. Mother shook her head. She probably felt bad about having to respond so harshly.

'' I 'm sorry to say it, Hank, but I 'm gladiola that cake is finally gone. I do n't call back it was very goodness for me. '' She patting the cold-shoulder but steadily growing bulge in her midsection. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that terrible sickness, but recently I 've been waking up mad to my stomach. It 's almost as if ... ''

'' No, I 'm sorry, mom. '' I interrupted her as I scraped crumbs into a sealable sandwich bag. `` I can make a better cake than this one. '' I sneaked the bag into my pocket. Tonight I 'd hide them far in the back of the deep-freeze. `` Who knows mom ? When I begin college following twelvemonth, maybe I 'll learn all sorting of secrets in organic fertilizer interpersonal chemistry. ''