Mom Never Said A Word ... Well, She Could N'T
This happened a farseeing clock time ago ... and probably would have never happened if my dad had n't travelled so much and my mom was n't as beautiful as she was ... is.
I was 19. She was 37, petite, beautiful, long silky red hair's-breadth that framed the pale skin of her look perfectly. She had lentigo that broke like a out of practice extragalactic nebula across her upturned poke and high brass. I was the apple of her eye, her lonesome youngster. Yes, she doted on me. I was substantial, smart and very popular in gamey schoolhouse ... I was now carving out my spot as a leader among the fresher at the small, private college I went to in Peoria. Nothing remotely intimate had ever bubbled up between us. She was mom. I was son. That boundary had never been challenged, until this night.
Dad was on the route again. My mother, Del, sat next to me on the sofa watching a fairly scary pic. She was wearing this Night dress of her 's that was not very give away, but showcased her body in a very wholesome, yet erotic luminance. She had drank nearly a nursing bottle of red wine by herself as the motion picture crept along. Even though I was only 19, she and my dad was okay with my drinking a few beers here and there, but tonight I had picked up a bottleful of mezcal. What she did n't have sex was that I had picked up a bit of a coke substance abuse at schoolhouse, and in between the drilling view of the revulsion flick, I was sneaking into the bathroom to do a bump or two.
I was getting do it up.
Sitting next to her, I started seeing her as a woman ... .not just as my mom. I could see her nipples pushing up against the framework of her night shirt. Her hair was hanging across her face and, suddenly, it looked so sultry, so calendered, so wooden-headed. Her middle were locked on the screen of the t.v., following every eddy in the plot.
I casually raised my hand and took a foresightful lank of her hair in my hand.
'' Mom, `` I said, `` You want to hear something strange I learned about lady friend at school ? '' I began rotating my hand, coiling the length of her hair's-breadth around my fist.
'' Sure. I can only guess what you 've been learning from those sluts. '' She replied.
'' strumpet ? Why do you call them sluts ? '' I laughed.
'' Instagram, SnapChat, chirrup ; they all compete for followers and ready to do anything to get them, '' she added. `` They 've objectified themselves. All they care about is whether or not someone finds them attractive enough to hit, `` follow. ``
Her eyes had been darting back and forth from me to the television screen as she said this. Gleaming, gloomy black eyes jumping from me to the movie. I now had her hair tightly wrapped around my paw by the prison term she finished her diatribe regarding my female classmates. She had no idea where my capitulum was. Had no idea how the Mezcal had seeped into the benighted recesses of my brain. Had no idea where I was going with the conversation.
'' You 're veracious about all that, mom, but that was n't what I was talking about. I 've learned that some cleaning woman hate to have their hair touched, and others like to have it pulled. '' And with that, I jerked my helping hand around in such a way, that I could finger about of her fuzz child's play more tightly around my fist. `` Which type are you, mom ? Do you freak out when individual touches her hair, or do you like it pulled, like a scalp massage ? ``
'' Ouch, Michael ... .be a little more ennoble. '' Her head fell forward then as I tightened my hairgrip. My go away hand joined my right, and together began to gently tighten her red tresses very tight.
'' I 'll be gruntle mom, but tell me, do you like the way that spirit ? '' I asked, feeling the Mezcal and Cocaine surging through my mind. Her hair felt like forget me drug of silk in my bridge player. ass. I felt stock surging to my tool. Stiffening beneath the harmless cotton of my sweatpants.
'' Any woman would like that variety of massage, Michael, if it was done gently- ''
I twisted my hired hand, pulling her hair more tightly around my hands. `` I 'm not talking about gently, mom. I 'm saying that some girls hate having their hair pulled in any way, and others ca n't get enough of it. '' I pulled my helping hand up so that her face was tier with my own. I was inebriate, and I was looking into my my mother 's sexy middle, glowing blue from the light of the t.v.
'' I 've learned that those that like to have their hairsbreadth pulled, like to be pushed into things. Forced into matter. '' When I twisted my work force this sentence, there was no topographic point for her hair to go. `` I 've learned that when a daughter feels that she has no pick, she can be led to do anything, mom. '' I turned her cheek to look at my genital organ which was now very swollen. `` They ca n't find fault themselves, they have to follow counselling when their hair is pulled this tight. '' I forced her face down to my cock, `` They are not creditworthy for their own actions, mom, they have to do what they are told. '' I pulled my mother 's cheek down to my lap, and rubbed her nerve against my insanely severe cock. `` When I do this to them, mom, they do n't put up much of a battle. They let me do this. ``
The Lophophora williamsii and snow were hitting me now very hard. I angled her lip to the bulge in my drawers, and then pressed down, making her `` buss '' my cock, from the base, all the way up to the tip. `` Why do they let me do that, mom ? Why do they let me force them to suck my putz. '' I turned her face back up to play my eyes, while I quickly untied the chain of my pants, letting my cock relieve. The shaft and question reared up suddenly, literally blocking her case from me. Precum was streaming from the tip and running down the shaft of light in thick, top rivlets. I tightened my grip on her hair and raised her mind up so that I could depend her in the eye.
'' You know what I think, mom ? I think you 're one of those girls who likes to own her hair pulled. That 's what I think. '' She met my eyes but said nothing. Did not resist. Did not fight. Even when I released one of my hands out of her hair, and pushed my finger onto her chin ... opening her mouthpiece. This crashing cunt, I thought, she is going to fuddle a lot of cum tonight. I slid just the very tip of my cock into her mouthpiece and felt her tongue vortex along the head, lapping up my precum. I saw the pass of my cock disappear between her lips, along with much of the shaft of light. I could see her center clearly now. I pulled her down further. I could feel the head of my stopcock extrusion against the back of her throat ... but I was n't stopping there. I saw her eyebrows raise as I pushed her head down on my dick and felt it pop through her esophagus and into the satin heat of her throat. She never said a word ... well, she couldn't.
I can not tell you how amazing it feels to have got your balls bottom out against your beautiful female parent 's undersurface lip. Or the touch when you pull your rotating shaft back and feel the pop of the header of your cock leaving her pharynx. And the look of confusedness, terror and surrender as you tighten your grip in her tomentum and pull her spine to you, feeling the squishy head penetrate her throat over and over again. I can not recount you how hard it is to keep yourself from cumming as you fuck your mother 's throat. I could n't end myself. All my senses were on overload and I felt my cock preparing to give the flood Bill Gates. I pulled my cock out of her throat so that only the tip was lodged between her beautiful lip, and I came. Staring into her eyes, I felt my body clench in sweet excruciation with each volley of cum I released into her mouth. Felt her oral cavity work on me, swallowing each rope of cum I fed to her. We all have that listing of the 10 right coming we 've ever had ... this ranks at the very top to this day.
I was not shy. I did not avoid her after this happened. Most of the time, all I had to do was rest my hired man on berm and she would drift down to her stifle, her mouth undefended and ready to serve me. But, sometimes, I had to wrap her haircloth around my fist and military unit her to her knee. I think she liked that best.
My dad returned domicile a few days later. They went to bed. I was in my room drinking and doing line of business. Around 3:00 am, I crept into their bedroom naked and surd. I raised the continental quilt and skid under it, wedging myself between my mother 's legs. I raped her then. Laying next to my Father. She tried to twist away, but I was already recondite inside her. `` catch. '' I whispered in her ear. I felt her articulatio genus upraise and part, my cock sunk just a little profoundly inside. I covered her lips with my own, and felt her knife slide into my back talk. `` Dirty whore. '' I thought. I fucked her then. Slow. trench. Hard. We came at the Lapp sentence. I felt my mother 's kitty-cat contract around my cock and I filled her with my cum. My god. She became such a strumpet for me. She likes to feature her pilus pulled. She never said a Book ...