full Golly, Mrs mammy !

by DiscipleN


-- -

You know how it is, when it 's your birthday, and you 've unwrapped your presents, and you blow out the taper on your birthday bar, and everyone indirect request you 'HAPPY natal day ! !', and they sing songs and swat your cigarette, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to fuck her 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 hand bag. When you consider what happened next, you would n't care either !

'' Dear, would you please bring my hand bag ? '' female parent smiled. She wiped a big clump of lather cream from the turning point of her mouth and licked her fingerbreadth. `` Just think, in a pair long time, we 'll be able to celebrate with something more strong than deep brown patty and ice cream. ``

'' sure as shooting 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 capacity.

'' I 'm so glad you took that home political economy course of instruction, your patty is delicious ! '' She was kind not to remark that whipped cream was an unusual ice for chocolate cake. She continued to mine her purse. `` Here we go. '' Mother pulled her mitt out of her feminine rucksack and held up a condom.

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

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

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

'' Mom, I got my licence a year ago. '' Something weird was going on with her. I peered penny-pinching at mom. She did n't look sot, and I had n't seen her swallow anything except bottled water.

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

To this astonishing remark, I said nil. My dad, her one and only married man, was pushing down valkyries and tossing back beers in Walhalla. I believe I gaped.

'' Do n't hand me that tone young man. What if you got into an chance event ? The family Desoto would be ruined, and your forefather would n't be able-bodied to commute to mould. Why, he 'd have to film the bus like one of those miserable, unfortunate Negroes. ``

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

I burst out laughing. `` mighty mom. That 's a good 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 joke caught in my pharynx and gagged me. I coughed and continued to cough. I could hardly breath with all that freaky in the way. Any second I expected Rod Serling to fawn out of the oven and give me the Heimleck maneuver.

'' Off you go. You can cogitate up there, about what I said, while I clean up this mickle. Do n't block to aim your presents. ``

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

This had to be part of some secret plot to storm me on my birthday. I went over the day in my head, trying to find a pattern.

I woke up, heard mom showering, and waited in my bed until she 'd go out our bathroom. My mind drifted, trying to imagine my mother 's firm hips and quart sized tit, their nipples swollen, water sweeping soap suds down her magniloquent, slight pattern. I grabbed my boner and gave it a Oliver Hardy wanking, wondering if mother ever wanked her, as I imagined it, puffed out clit. It 's a great way to set out the day and fling 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 make breakfast. My mom is n't the greatest cook. She 's more likely to wake a packet of instant creamed cereal grass than whip up eggs florentine. We compromised and had scrambled egg with my special hash browns.

Yeah, I got plentifulness of kidding taking a Home Ec. category, but a couple girls 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 natal day bar. I could retrieve of aught abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a inclination of ingredients to clean up at the store. She would meet 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 riding habit of dropping 30 degrees in the middle of a two hour chateaubriant.

When she met me at noon, she handed over an ice bureau with all those yummy chocolate cake ingredients. She had n't spared any disbursal, gastronome umber sauce, dutch cocoa powder, staff vine coffee bit, organic flour, milk, eggs, butter, whipping pick, cane sugar, and substantial vanilla excerpt. Mom helped me lug the chest to the school kitchen closet. It did n't fit my locker.

'' skillful chance, Hank. I 'm glad I wo n't be around to screw it up by fortuity. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen tools with the Lapp 'big pull'attitude as her work instrument.

There was nothing odd about mom at dejeuner meter. The commencement grief in my day came from an unexpected direction. When the schoolhouse bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen bore to craft some plenteous chocolate cake. I could taste the pinnace goodness, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my head. It would be a long delay while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long wait. There, standing around the assailable closet and opened ice chest were six guy wire from the hockey team. Their backtalk were covered with dark sauce, and they pulled on the Milk River carton like they were partying at a kegger.

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

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

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

Having finished raiding the 'good moment'in the ice chest, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the doorway. The endure one cracked an egg over my head. He had the brass to explicate the obvious.

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

The doorway slammed behind me, my soundbox quivering from their threatening subtext. Egg white dripped down my scent. 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 caput in a sump I took stock of what was left : three eggs, whipping cream, butter, and a sack of flour evidently used in a plot of haul. Even the vanilla extract bottle was missing. One of them must have been capable to read the word 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 same loo I found a cardboard box of old solid food stuffs.

Most schooltime do n't tender cooking grade anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as irksome to alter as it 's mascot. The material I discovered must give been collected over the geezerhood, things that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda, Navy noggin, various spiciness ( probably flavorless ), dried mushroom, powdered dinero, and a few box premix for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring haphazard joes. At the very bottom, I noticed an ancient looking logo for `` Aunty rocker 's Satan 's Food Cake ''. It was an old box mix for chocolate cake.

The appointment pestle on it ... hell, there was n't a date postage stamp on it. The trademark date for the logo said 1947. I did n't care. Two hours later, I returned home, ready to celebrate my birthday. The but thing that bugged me was, mother did n't seem to notice the departure between one of my modern oven wonders and this banal effigy to a woman 's situation in the home. She had two helping. I carved a minute slice but could n't swallow more than a few bite of it 's sawdust like consistency. I begged baker 's snacking as an excuse for being broad. I did notice mom 's extra helping of worst cream and ice cream with each fade. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the safe. dirt, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my room. I poisoned my own mother with fossilised cake mix ! All those chemical stabiliser and texturizers and stilted tone and colouring must have combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd improve call the doctor !

Right, and tell her what ? Mommy 's acting like a sourpuss ? She 's excited, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the doctor 's beak for that emergency phone birdcall. All I could do was sit on my bed and cross my fingers, hoping her immune organization would crusade off the chemicals.

A yoke hr later, boredom and a genuine worry about my mother forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a peep from mom since she 'd rank me to leave. I found her in the living 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 sire must be delayed at work. '' She patted my stifle and tried to look consoling.

'' Mom, dad died three year ago. '' I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could snap her out of it, but my own memory of his going welled up in my sum.

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

Eventually, I started to get horny. This is not as nonsensical as it sounds. If I did n't get horny at to the lowest degree three prison term a day, I 'd sense like my hormonal rest had begun it 's tardily downslope into middle-age.

I found myself staring at my mother 's knocker. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my trouser, trying to tug it flat behind the zipper. When she did n't take on notice, I took a unspoiled look. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a speck of a black circle behind her bra ? My fingering became a light tapping. The peter in my pant had begun it 's death borderland. I knew I 'd give to blow a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue clod infernal region. Mother did n't make a motion a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't react. Her tegument felt terribly warmly, as if she were running a fever. I placed the rear of my hand to her forehead. It was hot. I felt a light elbow grease on her brow. I noticed her face glistening like a perfect, porcelain doll. I could n't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far side of her comprehend breast. My cock did a terpsichore in my pants, but it did n't photograph. I was n't that close. I felt her move then. She looked up first and then at my obtrude upon hand. Then her head swiveled back and her eyes met mine.

'' Oh honey, I have a wicked headache. Maybe we can do this another time. '' That said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the steps to her bedroom. I was the one who did n't move then. My psyche 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 animal that commanded me. After several sturdy jerks on my prick, I shot fourteen tablespoonful of sperm into the carpet.

The next forenoon, I was able-bodied to get into the exhibitioner first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother was n't anywhere below. sin, she 's going to be former for work. I had almost forgotten the Night before. I raced upstairs to her bedchamber and pounded on the threshold !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a weak response. I turned the knob and opened the room access just a scissure. Mother was lying in bed, subdivision and stage askew, her partially opened skirt and shirt clung half on to her body. My dick instantly responded. I stepped inside. `` Mom ? Are you okay ? ``

'' Oooohhhhh, I have the worst headache ! '' She tried to rise, but failed. Her half covered underwear caught my attention for to a greater extent than a few seconds.

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the bathroom and pulled the feeding bottle from a ledge. I filled a rinse Methedrine and brought them both to her. I had to tip the tablets into her sass and harbour the trash up to her brim. I sneaked another peek at her breast. There really were dark circles visible through her bra.

'' My arm feel like utter weights, and my stomach is fluttering. How much did I drink concluding night ? ``

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

'' What happened ? I must take in been blitzed. Oh Hank, I hope I did n't deflower your natal day. ''

'' You do n't remember ? ``

'' The end affair I remember was you blowing out your candles. ``

'' I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a little have a bun in the oven away. '' I improvised. Some of those ideas from last Night were filtering back into my brain. All of them had to do with what she 'd said. 'Maybe we can do this another meter .'

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

'' Oh, I 'm going to be late for work. You 'd better scram to school day. I 'll be fine. Just grab something quick for tiffin, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my grownup boy. '' She smiled then, quite incognizant that I was growing large length in the bearing of her disarray clothing. I could even see a corner of her white cotton panties. Only with great regret did I leave mom and rush off to school. Before I left, I checked the icebox to make for certain the rest period of the chocolate cake had been saved. It had.

I returned home plate, I swear, before the schooltime bell finished ringing. At first I thought I 'd entered the wrong sign. A pelage rack I 'd never seen before greeted me at the door. There were pink throw pillows on the couch, and respective orderly rows of collector dinner denture had been attached to the far wall. The seat was spotless. We never lived in squalidness, but the best you could forebode mom 's and my modus vivendi would be 'casual'. The piece of furniture was rearranged, and there were credit card liners on the reclining chair and couch. Whoa, what variety of maid service had mom hired this month ?

I entered in a baffle haze, not paying attention to subtle sounds and smell emanating from the kitchen. My home plate had shifted into the alternate dimension of some black and whiteness situation comedy ! I hung my backpack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it come down to the floor. The front room access remained open behind me.

'' Honey, are you nursing home ? '' female parent sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the olfactory sensation hit me.

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

'' It 's Fish. Fri is fried fish, remember ? ``

She must have been trying to name deep fried sushi from rusted toilet of tuna cat food for thought. female parent appeared, smiling, at the threshold. A frilly dress with plait and layer covered her from articulatio humeri to ankle. It 's pastel gullible clashed with the bread and butter room 's deep purple, Oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a solid raft on my cheek.

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

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

Mom gave me a surprised look. `` Oh, I guess you caught me, ha ha. I doubt Hank likes the patty he made. What could compare to a mother 's home preparation ? I wondered why he did n't cut a piece before he ran out this dawn. I figured it was evenhandedly biz after that. ``

Hank ? Third person ? What was I, tuna fish ? The olfaction was oppressing my ability to think clearly.

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

'' You must be famished after a hard day at the place, poor affair. I 'll get your slipper while you sit and relax. How about an supererogatory dry martini ? '' My mother kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the way, patting the lounger, checking the closet for slippers that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a stigma new pair and fetched them over like a dog glad to greet its master. `` I made you your preferent, lamb, tuna casserole with American high mallow. ``

Oh shit, she thought I was her hubby ! ( Not my father, but some fictitious image of a husband. ) Oh shtup. dogshit ! What am I going to ... Oh ... Ping ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my brain had something to help fight the nasty olfactory perception in the theater. That something was my put up prick ! The epiphany which hit me then convinced me that my secret luxuria 's time had come. As the husband of a properly obedient wife, I could write my own scenarios and female parent would be my enliven actress.

'' Um, do n't nettle with the booze, er, honey. 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 rachis and clung to every in of exposed skin. rightfulness away, it made me itch.

mother knelt down before me and began untying the laces on my fink. I could see her cleavage, her full lips, her cheerful middle. I lost it then. My peter could take only so a great deal. I unzipped my pant and fished out it 's full moon length through my jockey shorts.

Mother looked up and froze. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a thought in her mind. It never existed before the 60, at least in her mind. How could she object to something that was morally indifferent ? If holding up a condom was her entire talking to about human sex, then she was begging for some grievous study. Words 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 head with its unfastened mouth and planted it over my soused love tool !

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

I began using her head to masturbate my pulsing cock. It was bear witness clock time ! I was so aroused and jubilant at my audacity, I did n't consider the M unpleasant and even dangerous ways my mother could react.

For the first ten or so pounding of her face to my prick, she remained flash-frozen. She began to dethaw as I continued to fuck my tool into her jaws. Her mouth dampen and her tongue began to cream the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my clump at to the full insertion.

'' That 's right mummy, get a good sense of taste of your boy 's dick. He 's had a hard day at school. '' I stopped acting like her imaginary husband on purpose. I wanted to fuck my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her mind had been fried. My pelvic arch pushed More peter into mother 's mouth.

I felt her nous move on it 's own volition. Her plump backtalk seared across my lance quickening its impulse, my pulse. My hand relaxed and there we were fully engaged in hard pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My Lucille Ball lurched and churned. Muscles contracted and spermatozoon leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. Swallow it, every dig, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my peter and seared her pharynx. Jet after jet scored into her mouthpiece. Mother 's mouth sucked and gulped, my full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until muscleman failed and bollock ran dry. I held her head word and gasped for breath. I could hear air roar out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe.

pull my softening cock from her mouth, I told her, `` You 're a Prunus persica, dearest. '' It was the 1st corny stemma I could remember from 'My Three Beavers'or whatever that show was called.

Her grin was n't the same, but I 'd give it an A for effort. She blinked and looked a bit confused, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was good. sunniness peered around her shadow of doubt and lit my lower body. She actually kissed the side of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

'' Dinner will be ready in five mo. '' She reassured me.

In five proceedings, my dick would be ready. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the head of the table. The food was horrendous ! Imagine tuna fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into half cooked pasta and dried peas. Now add a level of artificial yellow paving material across the top and you end up with intermit utensils and no appetency. The commons beans on the slope were brown and mushy. The murphy could suffer 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 respite down the sink, wash the glassful, and fulfil it. sink H2O tasted ameliorate than that milk.

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

'' When did you gear up supper. ``

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

My cake ! I rushed to the refrigerator, but the bar was n't there. Suddenly through the thin Mary Jane in the kitchen, I noticed a peculiar, sweet, burning olfactory property sundry with the sleep of my mother 's attempt at making phosgene gas. The oven !

A urarthritis of smoke poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot canvass supporting what was left of my cake. `` AAAHHH ! '' I screamed when the weather 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 delightful warm. ``

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

mother reached me and began to cool my blistered digit with the butter.

Paying her no mind, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal covering. To my immense relievo, the patty beneath was o.k.. `` Um, mom ? ``

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

'' Let 's write the cake for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to hold fast my tongue into her sass. My shaft was make for rung two.

mother pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder. `` Really, dear you ought to behave. I have such a headache. Maybe we can do this another time. ''

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


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


The side by side morning, I could n't tell if mom was tough off for the drug. She had looked so devastated the day before.

'' Mom are you all right ? ``

'' Oh, Hank, did you get the number of that motortruck ? '' She was holding her head and teetering in the bed. Her only habiliment were panties and a bra. The order attire lay on the story next to the bed.

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

She swatted my hands away. `` I 'm not decently sport, ameliorate solve out. How could I have gotten so wasted a 2nd 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 Sabbatum ? ``

'' Sick on a weekend ? filth. Better stay decipherable, Hank. I would n't desire you to bewitch this matter. There 's a rolls-royce turbofan on afterburner incinerating the inside of my skull.

closing the door to a discreet, hairline wisecrack, I called to her. `` How 's your appetency ? ``

'' My mouth flavour like it sucked co ..., er jam, all night long. I do n't desire anything. make up yourself something. '' Then diffuse, `` Maybe a cascade is the veracious matter. ``

I heard her drag 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 room access and knocked.

'' Feel better ? ``

'' A little bit. ``

I opened the door and peered in.

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

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her panties and was fumbling with her bra. Her lenient tits hung off her thorax like two small cantaloupes. No curiosity I was in lecherousness with my mother. I associated skinny nipple with anorectic and fat pap with either obesity or silicone. Mom 's were perfect for me, her nipple 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 bite before you begin your day. '' Without looking inside again, I set down on the rug, the saucer I had been carrying and slid it through the opening move. I placed a brisk glass of milk, from a new cartonful, just inside the door.

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

'' Yeah, mom, I even made fresh mop up cream. The master cream did n't go along very well. '' I had more emollient waiting for her, inside my pants.

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

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

'' Oh, maybe just a morsel. A piffling kale might stimulate my appetite. I tell you every time you 're gruesome that a piddling solid food keeps your metabolism strong. It 's meter to shoot my own advice. ``

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

For the initiative time, I would be able to quantify how retentive the cake took to invoke it 's issue. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my dick and shooting a few circle of cum through my mother 's doorway, 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 consume to own a talk of the town with your instructor ! Do n't forget to bring your report straight to me. I 'll have 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 blueing, pink prime bespeckled, family dress. Even her fuzz had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the heart of her room and drove her plump for down upon the bed.

'' What in mercy 's epithet ? '' She cried out.

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

Just like the old night, she froze, this clip banquet bird of Jove across her bed, pegleg suspension over the side. I lifted her dress above her thighs and revealed her E. B. White scanty. 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 snatch, but it did n't slip in. She was dry. Reaching between us, I aimed my cock where I thought cunt 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 yowl and fucked hard stopcock into unwilling kitty. 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 serious, mother ! I can hardly waitress to fill your inside with my backed-up load of spermatozoon ! ''

'' That 's all right, honey. I 'll clean up the mess 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 thirst drove me like a sprinter. I could finger her cunt passage begin to lube. Her warm sheepcote massaged my cock like no mouth ever could. Our frictioning tissues were soon bathed in mammy cunt juices and son prick pre-cum.

'' This is great mom ! I 'm fucking you so great ! '' I could n't think it. I was raping my own female parent, and she did n't have a clue about what I was doing to her. Whatever that cake had, it was better than any appointment rapine drug I 'd ever pick up of. My shaft plunged with glee. My body was already sweating and twitching. My nerves ramped up their joy power faster than ever.

'' Yes, you go good ahead and roll up your things. Do you demand mommy to drive you to school ? '' I felt her pushing back with her hips. Cunt sucked cock deeper with every thrust. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My female parent suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My unscathed organic structure detected the beginning cramp of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to bluster too. If only I could make it endure, but my long muffle lustfulness could be delayed no further.

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

My cock was bursting to plant cum into its place of pedigree. I could feel the undulation of my orgasm speed up from my shaft and down from my brain, filling my branch and wooden leg and exploding out from my center.

'' I 'm cumming, mom, I 'm UUUNNNNGGGGHHHH ! ! ! COMMMING ! ! ! ! '' My cum rushed out from my Ball and blasted the walls of her twat, forcing jism through the fleur-de-lis of her neck.

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

Even as I continued to cum, I was tearing at the top of her clothes, revealing her bra and working to publish her nipple. 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 hair, it must look a-fright. What ever am I going to do with you ? ``

'' I think you should suck on my dick. '' I stopped engorging my typeface on her pap and crawled up over her ruined house dress. When my knees reached her shoulder joint, I fed wet meat into her baffle afirmament. She sucked.

We spent entire day worshiping my cock. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was bleak and blueness. I shot load after shipment of salty, hot cream into her baby maker until my balls went numb from the effort and my dick could n't view as more than an inch upright.

The future morning was the same, except she woke up with an even tough vexation and had contusion all over her dead body. I told her she needed to see a medico. I lied to her about an naming, but before we left I offered her another fade of cake. We never made it out the door. In fact I even convinced her I was the sick one, and she wrote an excuse to be absent from school for a whole week.

The day after the first rape of my mother, I eased back my ardor and was more careful about leaving revealing crisscross. I did leave my day 's production of incestuous sperm in her belly.

We repeated our slight romp every day for the rest of the hebdomad. I did n't try to chouse myself. I cut the same sizing of cake slice each prison term. It was going to run out eventually, and I did n't require her to be only half drugged. She had every right to haul my ass off to put behind bars and dare my cellmates to plant their seed inside me. Oh no !

When the last slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a strict dieting of whacking off but with better storage to cum over. It took a couple on weeks before I could abide to postulate the cake platter out of the electric refrigerator. ( I told you our house was n't the tidiest. )

Mother was writing something in her worker 's care journal at the kitchen tabular array. I could n't blockade myself. I set the disc on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her waist to cup her tits, wanting to massage them one in conclusion time.

mother spun around, and she slapped my facial expression, hard ! `` Hank ! We may live in a fairly spare thinking, modern world, but everything has it 's limits. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the empty cake shell to the sink. Mother shook her school principal. She probably felt bad about having to react so harshly.

'' I 'm disconsolate to say it, Hank, but I 'm glad that cake is finally gone. I do n't think it was very good for me. '' She patting the slight but steadily growing bulge in her midsection. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that severe illness, but recently I 've been waking up sick 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 prepare a better cake 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 succeeding twelvemonth, maybe I 'll see all sorts of closed book in organic chemistry. ''