Good Golly, Mrs mama !

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 candles on your birthday cake, and everyone wishes you 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY ! !', and they sing songs and swat your butt end, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to have a go at it 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 bloody bridge player bag. When you consider what happened next, you would n't care either !

'' Dear, would you please fetch my script bag ? '' mother smiled. She wiped a big glob of mop up emollient from the corner of her mouth and licked her finger's breadth. `` Just recollect, in a couple twelvemonth, we 'll be able-bodied to celebrate with something more potent than chocolate cake and ice cream. ``

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

'' I 'm so gladiolus you took that dwelling economics course of study, your cake is Delicious ! '' She was kind not to refer that whipped emollient was an unusual icing for drinking chocolate bar. She continued to mine her pocketbook. `` Here we go. '' Mother pulled her manus out of her womanly rucksack and held up a condom.

'' Do you make love what this is ? '' She gave me a stern look.

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

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

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

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

To this astonishing remark, I said naught. My dad, her one and only husband, was pushing down valkyries and tossing back beers in Valhalla. I believe I gaped.

'' Do n't make me that looking at young man. What if you got into an accident ? The syndicate Desoto would be ruined, and your father would n't be able to commute to ferment. Why, he 'd induce to acquire the bus like one of those piteous, inauspicious Black. ``

'Negroes ?'I pushed my death chair back and seriously considered defecation in my pants. Hell, bootleg guys in the school 's computer club would serve my ass for tri-tip if I ever called them Negroes. And as for a Desoto, was n't he a latino middleweight ?

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

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

My wholehearted express joy caught in my throat and gagged me. I coughed and continued to cough. I could hardly breath with all that freaky in the room. Any second I expected Rod Serling to creep out of the oven and commit me the Heimleck maneuver.

'' Off you go. You can imagine up there, about what I said, while I clean up this hole. Do n't forget to take your presents. ``

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

This had to be contribution of some secret secret plan to storm me on my birthday. I went over the day in my chief, trying to detect a pattern.

I woke up, heard mom showering, and waited in my bed until she 'd left our can. My judgment drifted, trying to opine my female parent 's firm hips and quart sized breasts, their pap swollen, weewee sweeping goop suds down her grandiloquent, slim figure. I grabbed my botch and gave it a hardy wanking, wondering if mother ever wanked her, as I imagined it, puffed out clit. It 's a great way to commence the day and crack sentence while the bathroom was occupied.

After my own shower, I met mom in the kitchen. She kissed me on the face and wished me happy birthday. I helped her take in breakfast. My mom is n't the superlative Captain Cook. She 's more likely to heat a packet of twinkling creamed cereal than party whip up eggs florentine. We compromised and had scrambled eggs with my special hash browns.

Yeah, I got peck of kidding taking a nursing home Ec. social class, but a pair girls went out of their way to help me, although I admit I was n't so endure 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 natal day patty. I could think of null unnatural about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a inclination of ingredients to pick up at the store. She would contact me at midday, and I 'd use the schoolhouse 's kitchen after my classes. I already had permission. I did n't particularly like our own kitchen oven, it had a nasty use of dropping 30 degrees in the middle of a two hour chateaubriant.

When she met me at noon, she handed over an ice chest with all those yummy chocolate bar component. She had n't spared any expense, gourmet chocolate sauce, dutch cocoa gunpowder, Celastrus scandens deep brown chips, organic flour, milk, orchis, butter, whipping cream, cane loot, and tangible vanilla extract. Mom helped me lug the chest to the school kitchen wardrobe. It did n't fit my locker.

'' Good luck, Hank. I 'm glad I wo n't be around to jazz it up by fortuity. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen tools with the same 'big wrench'posture as her work tools.

There was null odd about mom at lunch time. The first grief in my day came from an unexpected guidance. When the school bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen eager to craft some rich chocolate cake. I could taste the tender goodness, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my foreland. It would be a long wait while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long wait. There, standing around the open closet and opened ice thorax were six guy from the hockey team. Their lip were covered with dark sauce, and they pulled on the milk carton like they were partying at a kegger.

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

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

'' Sorry. '' Another turned to me and grinned. The early four grinned and said 'likewise'down the line. They all burst out laughing. Daring me to confront them more. I stood there simultaneously furious and petrified with fearfulness.

Having finished raiding the 'good turn'in the ice chest, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the door. The last one cracked an egg over my top dog. He had the nerve to explicate the obvious.

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

The door slammed behind me, my body quivering from their menacing subtext. Egg whitened dripped down my olfactory organ. I think I had a fit then. The immediate afterward is a blur in my memory. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my mind in a cesspit I took stock of what was left : three testis, whipping cream, butter, and a dismissal of flour evidently used in a plot of catch. Even the vanilla extract bottleful was missing. One of them must have been capable to read the word alcoholic beverage 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 same wardrobe I found a cardboard box of old food clobber.

most schools do n't offer up cooking socio-economic class anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as slow to alter as it 's mascot. The stuff I discovered must have been collected over the days, affair that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda, navy noodle, diverse spiciness ( probably flavorless ), dried mushrooms, powdered sugar, and a few box mixture for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring slipshod joes. At the very bottom, I noticed an ancient looking logo for `` Aunty Rocker 's Devil 's Food Cake ''. It was an old box mix for umber cake.

The date stamp on it ... inferno, there was n't a appointment stamp on it. The hallmark escort for the logotype said 1947. I did n't care. Two hours later, I returned home, ready to celebrate my birthday. The only thing that bugged me was, mother did n't seem to mark the difference between one of my modern font oven wonderment and this tired simulacrum to a woman 's place in the habitation. She had two helpings. I carved a contract slice but could n't unsay more than a few bites of it 's sawdust like body. I begged bread maker 's snacking as an excuse for being full. I did notice mom 's extra helpings of whipped ointment and ice pick with each slice. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the safe. mother fucker, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my way. I poisoned my own mother with fossilised cake mix ! All those chemical stabilizers and texturizers and artificial savor and coloring must hold combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd break call the physician !

Right, and tell her what ? Mommy 's acting like a pouter ? She 's delirious, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the doctor 's neb for that emergency earphone cry. All I could do was sit on my bed and cross my finger, hoping her immune system would fight off the chemicals.

A couple minute later, boredom and a genuine headache about my mother forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a peep from mom since she 'd ordered me to pass on. I found her in the living room, sitting straight up on the lounge, staring at the mantle like a prairie dog.

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

'' Mom, dad died three years ago. '' I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could break down her out of it, but my own retentiveness of his personnel casualty welled up in my heart.

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

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

I found myself staring at my mother 's teat. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing collapsible shelter in my pants, trying to labour it flatbed behind the zipper. When she did n't take card, I took a good flavor. I leaned in finisher, trying to see through her top. Was that a soupcon of a dark circle behind her bra ? My fingering became a light-headed tapping. The dick in my pants had begun it 's death marching music. I knew I 'd have to mishandle a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue ball hell. Mother did n't strike a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't react. Her skin felt terribly warm, as if she were running a febricity. I placed the back of my hand to her frontal bone. It was hot. I felt a light swither on her brow. I noticed her nerve glistening like a pure, porcelain skirt. I could n't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far side of her brood breast. My cock did a dance in my trouser, but it did n't shoot. I was n't that close. I felt her motion then. She looked up first and then at my obtrude upon hand. Then her head swiveled back and her oculus met mine.

'' Oh love, I have a horrendous headache. Maybe we can do this another clock time. '' 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 creative thinker was flooded with unbelievable ideas, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her door come together, I opened my pants and released the throbbing animate being that commanded me. After various Oliver Hardy jerky on my prick, I shot 14 tablespoons of sperm into the carpet.

The next cockcrow, I was able to get into the shower first. When I went down to the kitchen, female parent was n't anywhere below. Hell, she 's going to be late for study. I had almost forgotten the dark before. I raced upstairs to her bedroom and pounded on the room access !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a weak reply. I turned the knob and opened the threshold just a whirl. Mother was lying in bed, arms and legs askew, her partially opened skirt and shirt clung half on to her consistence. My dick instantly responded. I stepped inside. `` Mom ? Are you okay ? ``

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

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the bathroom and pulled the bottle from a shelf. I filled a rinse glass and brought them both to her. I had to course the pad into her mouth and keep back the glass up to her lips. I sneaked another peep at her chest. There really were dark-skinned circles visible through her bra.

'' My sleeve feel like dead free weight, and my abdomen is fluttering. How much did I drink conclusion dark ? ``

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

'' What happened ? I must have been blitzed. Oh Hank, I hope I did n't ruin your natal day. ''

'' You do n't call back ? ``

'' The last-place thing I remember was you blowing out your candles. ``

'' I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a little carried away. '' I improvised. Some of those estimate from last Nox were filtering back into my head. 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 mother was n't all that worse for the cake she 'd eaten. She looked better and in effect the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be of late for employment. You 'd better scram to school. I 'll be amercement. Just grab something quick for dejeuner, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my grownup boy. '' She smiled then, quite incognizant that I was growing great lengths in the bearing of her disarrayed wear. I could even see a quoin of her white cotton panties. Only with great ruefulness did I leave mom and rush off to school. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to make for certain the eternal rest of the deep brown cake had been saved. It had.

I returned rest home, I swear, before the school buzzer finished ringing. At initiative I thought I 'd entered the wrong house. A coat rack I 'd never seen before greeted me at the threshold. There were pink throw pillows on the sofa, and respective neat rows of collector dinner photographic plate had been attached to the far wall. The place was spotless. We never lived in squalor, but the unspoilt you could call mom 's and my lifestyle would be 'casual'. The furniture was rearranged, and there were shaping ocean liner on the recliner and sofa. Whoa, what variety of maid service had mom hired this month ?

I entered in a confounded haze, not paying attending to subtle strait and aroma emanating from the kitchen. My home had shifted into the alternate dimension of some black and E. B. White sitcom ! I hung my packsack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it fall to the level. The front door remained open air behind me.

'' love, are you household ? '' Mother sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the scent hit me.

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

'' It 's fish. Friday is fried Pisces the Fishes, commend ? ``

She must get been trying to hit deep fried sushi from rusted cans of tuna cat food. female parent appeared, smiling, at the doorway. A frilly dress with pleats and layers covered her from shoulders to ankle joint. It 's pastel commons clashed with the aliveness way 's inscrutable purpleness, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a satisfying peck on my cheek.

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

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

Mom gave me a storm looking at. `` Oh, I guess you caught me, ha ha. I doubt Hank likes the cake he made. What could compare to a mother 's home preparation ? I wondered why he did n't cut a slice before he ran out this morning. I figured it was carnival game after that. ``

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

'' Uh, that 's OK, mom. What 's for dinner ? ``

'' You must be famished after a hard day at the position, poor thing. I 'll get your skidder while you sit and relax. How about an additional dry martini ? '' My mother kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the elbow room, patting the recliner, checking the closet for carpet slipper that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a trade name new brace and fetched them over like a dog glad to greet its master. `` I made you your favorite, dear, tuna casserole with American cheeseflower. ``

Oh shit, she thought I was her hubby ! ( Not my founder, but some false icon of a husband. ) Oh fuck. shit ! What am I going to ... Oh ... PING ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my brain had something to help defend the foul odor in the house. That something was my erect shaft ! The Epiphany which hit me then convinced me that my secret lust 's time had come. As the husband of a properly obedient married woman, I could write my own scenarios and mother would be my instigate actress.

'' Um, do n't bother with the booze, er, beloved. I 'll just sit and remember, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my topographic point in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my spine and clung to every inch of exposed hide. rightfulness away, it made me itch.

Mother knelt down before me and began untying the laces on my tennis shoe. I could see her cleavage, her full lips, her cheerful eyes. I lost it then. My peter could take in only so much. I unzipped my pants and fished out it 's replete length through my jockey shorts.

mother looked up and froze. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a idea in her oral sex. It never existed before the sixties, at least in her judgement. How could she object to something that was morally indifferent ? If holding up a condom was her integral lecture about homo sexuality, then she was begging for some sober study. Words of huge Wisdom of Solomon returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an opportunity, adopt it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's surprised header with its loose sass and planted it over my blotto get laid tool !

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

I began using her point to jerk off my pulsing pecker. It was present prison term ! I was so horny and gleeful at my temerity, I did n't consider the thousand unpleasant and even life-threatening ways my mother could react.

For the first ten or so poundings of her aspect to my prick, she remained rooted. She began to fade as I continued to have it off my cock into her jaws. Her sass softened and her tongue began to lick the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my testis at full insertion.

'' That 's right mommy, get a unspoilt sense of taste of your boy 's cock. He 's had a hood day at schooltime. '' I stopped acting like her fanciful husband on purpose. I wanted to make out my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her mind had been fried. My hips pushed more cock into mother 's mouth.

I felt her head movement on it 's own volition. Her plump lips seared across my ray of light quickening its beat, my pulsation. My bridge player relaxed and there we were fully engaged in hard pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My chunk lurched and churned. Muscles contracted and sperm leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. swallow up it, every injection, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my pecker and seared her throat. Jet after jet scored into her mouth. Mother 's mouth sucked and gulped, my full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until brawniness failed and formal ran dry. I held her head and gasped for hint. I could discover air roar out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe.

Pulling my softening pecker from her mouth, I told her, `` You 're a apricot, honey. '' It was the first of all corny line I could remember from 'My Three Beavers'or whatever that display was called.

Her smile was n't the same, but I 'd give it an A for elbow grease. She blinked and looked a bit flurry, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was effective. sun peered around her shadow of question and lit my low body. She actually kissed the side of meat of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

'' Dinner will be set in five moment. '' 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 solid food was dreadful ! Imagine tunny fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into one-half cooked pasta and dried pea plant. Now add a layer of artificial yellow pavement across the top and you end up with split up utensils and no appetite. The greenness dome on the side were dark-brown and mushy. The Solanum tuberosum could have been used as a wheel block, and the milk, even the frigging milk tasted it like it had been pissed in.

'' What did you do with the Milk, mom ? '' I asked as I ran to the sink to flush the rest down the sink, rinse the chicken feed, and fill it. Sink water tasted better than that milk.

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

'' When did you organize supper. ``

'' Right after lunch. Are you quick for dessert ? ``

My cake ! I rushed to the icebox, but the cake was n't there. Suddenly through the thin smoke in the kitchen, I noticed a peculiar, sweet, burning smell meld with the residuum of my mother 's attempt at making phosgene gas. The oven !

A gout of smoking poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot bed sheet supporting what was left of my cake. `` 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 icebox. `` I thought the cake would be more toothsome warm. ``

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

mother reached me and began to chill my blister fingerbreadth with the butter.

Paying her no head, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal grey finishing. To my immense relief, the patty beneath was delicately. `` Um, mom ? ``

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

'' Let 's save the cake for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to vex my spit into her backtalk. My pecker was ready for rhythm two.

female parent pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder. `` Really, dearest you ought to do. I have such a concern. Maybe we can do this another time. ''

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


-- -- -- split -- -- --


The next morning, I could n't tell if mom was sorry off for the drug. She had looked so desolate the day before.

'' Mom are you all right ? ``

'' Oh, Hank, did you get the number of that truck ? '' She was holding her read/write head and teetering in the bed. Her solely clothing were panty and a bra. The society apparel lay on the floor next to the bed.

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

She swatted my hand away. `` I 'm not properly sport, better clear out. How could I have gotten so wasted a bit day in a row. Did I even go into employment 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 Saturday ? ``

'' Sick on a weekend ? filth. Better stay clear, Hank. I would n't require you to catch this thing. There 's a rolls-royce turbofan on afterburner incinerating the interior of my skull.

Closing the door to a discreet, hairline crack, I called to her. `` How 's your appetite ? ``

'' My mouth tactile property like it sucked co ..., er fix, all night long. I do n't desire anything. take in yourself something. '' Then softer, `` Maybe a shower is the right thing. ``

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

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

'' look better ? ``

'' A little bit. ``

I opened the door and peered in.

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

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her panties and was fumbling with her bra. Her soft tits hung off her dresser like two small Cucumis melo cantalupensis. No wonder I was in lust with my mother. I associated tightfitting nipple with anorexics and fat tits with either obesity or silicone polymer. Mom 's were gross for me, her mamilla were also sized in dark moderation. That was all I could glean before pulling back behind the door.

My cock raged to touch them. `` Hey mom, maybe a quick raciness before you begin your day. '' Without looking inside again, I set down on the carpet, the saucer I had been carrying and slid it through the opening. I placed a fresh looking glass of milk, from a new carton, just inside the door.

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

'' Yeah, mom, I even made refreshful whipped cream. The master cream did n't restrain very well. '' I had more cream off waiting for her, inside my pants.

'' You did n't stimulate to worry yourself. My stomach is still kind of queazy. ``

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

'' Oh, maybe just a bite. A small refined sugar might stimulate my appetite. I tell you every time you 're sick that a little food hold your metabolism substantial. It 's time to train my own advice. ``

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

For the number one fourth dimension, I would be capable to mensurate how recollective the cake took to arouse it 's effect. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my hawkshaw 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 improve not be late for shoal again, or I 'll have to ingest a public lecture with your teacher ! Do n't forget to wreak your report straight to me. I 'll have a star waiting for every'A'. ''

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

'' What in mercifulness 's public figure ? '' She cried out.

I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pant down my wooden leg. I straightened up and gave her a good tone at my rampant organ.

Just like the previous night, she froze, this time spread bird of Jove across her bed, pegleg dangling over the side. I lifted her wearing apparel above her thighs and revealed her Edward White 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 drop away in. She was dry. Reaching between us, I aimed my cock where I thought slit was, and I thrust myself inside her.

'' Ooowww ! Hank, are you sure enough you 're not going to be recently for schooling ! ``

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

'' Oohh, it 's so unspoilt, mother ! I can hardly wait to fill your insides with my backed-up payload of sperm ! ''

'' That 's okay, honey. I 'll clean up the mess in the kitchen. You just run along. ``

I was running, running my engorged scratch inside and out of the hole where I was born. My lust drove me like a sprinter. I could experience her cunt musical passage begin to lubricate. Her warm up plica massaged my rooster like no sassing ever could. Our frictioning tissues were soon bathed in mommy cunt juices and son cock up pre-cum.

'' This is bang-up mom ! I 'm fucking you so great ! '' I could n't believe it. I was raping my own mother, and she did n't have a clue about what I was doing to her. Whatever that cake had, it was better than any date rape drug I 'd ever heard of. My dick plunged with mirthfulness. My body was already sweating and twitching. My brass ramped up their joy force faster than ever.

'' Yes, you go right ahead and collect your things. Do you require momma to drive you to school ? '' I felt her pushing back with her coxa. twat sucked shaft deeper with every thrust. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My female parent suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My whole physical structure detected the kickoff spasms of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to waste too. If only I could make it live on, but my retentive quash lusts could be delayed no far.

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

My cock was bursting to plant seed into its berth of origin. I could find the moving ridge of my orgasm rush up from my prick and down from my brain, filling my blazonry and legs and exploding out from my center.

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

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

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

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

'' I think you should suck on my gumshoe. '' I stopped engorging my face on her pap and crawled up over her destroyed business firm dress. When my articulatio genus reached her articulatio humeri, I fed wet nub into her bemuse afirmament. She sucked.

We spent intact day worshiping my peter. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous female parent until she was dim and naughty. I shot load after load of salty, hot cream into her babe Almighty until my balls went numb from the effort and my cock could n't hold more than an inch upright.

The adjacent morning was the Lapplander, except she woke up with an even worse headache and had bruises all over her body. I told her she needed to see a Doctor. I lied to her about an assignment, but before we left I offered her another slice of cake. We never made it out the threshold. In fact I even convinced her I was the sick one, and she wrote an self-justification to be wanting from schoolhouse for a totally week.

The day after the first rape of my female parent, I eased back my ardor and was more deliberate about leaving telling fall guy. I did leave my day 's yield of incestuous sperm cell in her belly.

We repeated our short playing period every day for the rest of the week. I did n't try to cheat myself. I cut the Lapplander size of bar fade each time. It was going to run out eventually, and I did n't desire her to be only half drugged. She had every right wing to cart my ass off to jail and presume my cellmates to plant their ejaculate inside me. Oh no !

When the last slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a rigorous dieting of whacking off but with considerably memories to cum over. It took a couple weeks before I could endure to take the cake platter out of the fridge. ( I told you our firm was n't the tidiest. )

Mother was writing something in her worker 's maintenance diary at the kitchen table. I could n't lay off myself. I set the record on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her waist to cup her tits, wanting to rub down them one last time.

Mother spun around, and she slapped my face, hard ! `` Hank ! We may endure in a fairly devoid intellection, modern world, but everything has it 's limits. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the vacate cake photographic plate to the sink. Mother shook her head. She probably felt bad about having to respond so harshly.

'' I 'm sorry to say it, Hank, but I 'm glad that cake is finally gone. I do n't remember it was very skilful for me. '' She patting the slight but steadily growing excrescence in her midsection. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that atrocious illness, but recently I 've been waking up sick to my belly. It 's almost as if ... ''

'' No, I 'm distressing, mom. '' I interrupted her as I scraped crumbs into a sealable sandwich bag. `` I can make a sound patty than this one. '' I sneaked the bag into my pocket. Tonight I 'd hide them far in the back of the freezer. `` Who knows mom ? When I begin college next year, maybe I 'll learn all sorts of secrets in constitutional chemistry. ''