Good Golly, Mrs mammy !

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 candle on your natal day cake, and everyone wishes you 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY ! !', and they sing Song dynasty and swat your butt, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to have sex her to a greater extent 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 handle either !

'' Dear, would you please fetch my manus bag ? '' Mother smiled. She wiped a big clump of whipped cream from the quoin of her lip and licked her digit. `` Just think, in a duad old age, we 'll be able to celebrate with something more potent than hot chocolate cake and ice cream. ``

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

'' I 'm so glad you took that home economics class, your cake is pleasant-tasting ! '' She was kind not to mention that whipped cream was an unusual frosting for chocolate cake. She continued to mine her handbag. `` Here we go. '' Mother pulled her hand out of her feminine backpack and held up a condom.

'' Do you get it on what this is ? '' She gave me a stern look.

'' Yeah mom, it 's a pencil eraser. '' What 'd she cerebrate, that I was out of the loop-the-loop of ninety nine pct of my senior high school schooling, like fundamentalist christians who are n't allowed to use the letter'x'in example they might spell a frightful, three letter word 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 tug the car.

'' Mom, I got my license a yr ago. '' Something Weird was going on with her. I peered near at mom. She did n't see drunk, and I had n't seen her crapulence anything except bottled water.

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

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

'' Do n't dedicate me that look young man. What if you got into an accident ? The family Desoto would be ruined, and your Father of the Church would n't be capable to convert to work. Why, he 'd have to remove the bus like one of those hapless, unfortunate Negroes. ``

'Negroes ?'I pushed my chair back and seriously considered shitting in my pants. Inferno, fateful guys in the schooling 's figurer 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. `` justly mom. That 's a good one. ``

'' Hmmph ! You listen to me, young man. I 'll not bear you disrespect 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 room. Any second I expected Rod Serling to cower out of the oven and consecrate me the Heimleck maneuver.

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

Out of sheer incredulity, I stood up, take hold of my gift certification for Wal-Mart and my three new Gamera videodisc, walked out, up the stairs, and into my room.

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

I woke up, heard mom showering, and waited in my bed until she 'd left our bathroom. My judgement drifted, trying to think my mother 's firm hips and quart size titty, their teat swollen, water sweeping soap suds down her tall, slim down 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 great way to begin the day and pass sentence while the bathroom was occupied.

After my own cascade, I met mom in the kitchen. She kissed me on the cheek and wished me happy natal day. I helped her make breakfast. My mom is n't the capital cook. She 's more likely to heat a mail boat of flash creamed cereal than whip up eggs florentine. We compromised and had scrambled orchis with my special hash browns.

Yeah, I got plenty of kidding taking a abode Ec. class, 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 birthday cake. I could mean of nothing abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a list of ingredients to pick up at the store. She would meet me at noon, and I 'd use the school 's kitchen after my year. I already had permission. I did n't particularly like our own kitchen oven, it had a cruddy habit of dropping 30 academic degree in the centre of a two hour chateaubriant.

When she met me at noonday, she handed over an ice thorax with all those yummy chocolate cake component. She had n't spared any expense, bon vivant chocolate sauce, dutch cocoa gunpowder, bittersweet chocolate french-fried potatoes, constitutional flour, milk, testis, butter, whipping cream, cane sugar, and real vanilla excerpt. Mom helped me lug the breast to the school kitchen closet. It did n't fit my locker.

'' Good chance, Hank. I 'm sword lily I wo n't be around to screw it up by accident. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen tools with the same 'big twist'attitude as her work tools.

There was zilch odd about mom at lunch time. The for the first time grief in my day came from an unexpected counsel. When the school ship's bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen eager to craft some plentiful coffee patty. I could taste the ship's boat goodness, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my head. It would be a long wait while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long wait. There, standing around the undecided closet and opened ice chest were six Guy from the hockey squad. Their mouths were covered with dark sauce, and they pulled on the milk carton like they were partying at a kegger.

'' What the roll in the hay ! That was think to be my birthday cake. '' I screamed at them. I did n't know I had it in me.

The grown one of them looked my way and chuckled. `` felicitous birthday twirp. You 're welcome to whatever 's left field. ``

'' Sorry. '' Another turned to me and grinned. The other four grinned and said 'likewise'down the crease. They all burst out laughing. Daring me to face them more. I stood there simultaneously furious and ossify with awe.

Having finished raiding the 'good piece'in the ice chest, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the room access. The live one cracked an egg over my head. He had the boldness to explicate the obvious.

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

The door slammed behind me, my consistence quivering from their sullen subtext. Egg Andrew Dickson White dripped down my pry. I think I had a fit then. The contiguous afterward is a blur in my retention. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my foreland in a sink I took inventory of what was left : three eggs, whipping cream, butter, and a sack of flour evidently used in a game of gimmick. Even the vanilla bottleful was missing. One of them must accept been able to take the Holy Writ 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 wardrobe I found a cardboard box of old food for thought stuff and nonsense.

Most schooling do n't propose cooking classes anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as slow to change as it 's mascot. The stuff I discovered must let been collected over the years, things that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda, navy beans, diverse spiciness ( probably flavorless ), dried mushroom, powdered sugar, and a few box mixes for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring sloppy joes. At the very bottom, I noticed an ancient looking logo for `` Aunty cradle 's Devil 's intellectual nourishment patty ''. It was an old box mix for chocolate cake.

The date postage on it ... hell, there was n't a date stamp on it. The stylemark escort for the logo said 1947. I did n't like. Two hr later, I returned home, fix to celebrate my birthday. The exclusively affair that bugged me was, mother did n't appear to detect the departure between one of my modern oven admiration and this trite image to a charwoman 's plaza in the household. She had two helping. I carved a specialize cut but could n't swallow more than a few raciness of it 's sawdust like eubstance. I begged baker 's snacking as an apology for being full moon. I did notice mom 's special portion of whipped cream and ice emollient with each slicing. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the condom. Shit, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my way. I poisoned my own mother with fossilise cake mix ! All those chemical stabilizer and texturizers and artificial feel and coloration must consume combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd improve phone the Doctor !

Right, and tell her what ? mum 's acting like a sourpuss ? She 's excited, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the doctor 's nib for that hand brake phone margin call. All I could do was sit on my bed and hybridise my fingers, hoping her immune system would fight back off the chemicals.

A couple minute later, boredom and a genuine worry about my mother forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a cheep from mom since she 'd consecrate me to lead. I found her in the livelihood elbow 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 founding father must be delayed at workplace. '' She patted my genu and tried to bet consoling.

'' Mom, dad died three years ago. '' I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could shoot her out of it, but my own memory of his deprivation 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 be active.

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

I found myself staring at my mother 's mammilla. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my knickers, trying to push it flat behind the zipper. When she did n't take notice, I took a near look. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a hint of a dark circle behind her bra ? My fingering became a light tapping. The cock in my pant had begun it 's death march. I knew I 'd have to blow a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue ball snake pit. mother did n't move a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't respond. Her skin felt terribly lovesome, as if she were running a pyrexia. I placed the back of my hand to her forehead. It was hot. I felt a light sweat on her hilltop. 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 address breast. My cock did a dancing in my pants, but it did n't scoot. I was n't that close. I felt her move then. She looked up first and then at my invading bridge player. Then her head swiveled back and her oculus met mine.

'' Oh honey, I have a terrible worry. Maybe we can do this another fourth dimension. '' That said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the stairs to her bedroom. I was the one who did n't move then. My mind was flooded with incredible approximation, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her room access come together, I opened my pants and released the throbbing brute that commanded me. After several Thomas Hardy jerked meat on my prick, I shot XIV tablespoon of spermatozoan into the carpet.

The next break of the day, I was able to get into the shower first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother was n't anywhere below. nether region, she 's going to be latterly for oeuvre. I had almost forgotten the nighttime before. I raced upstairs to her bedroom and pounded on the door !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a frail answer. I turned the boss and opened the doorway just a crevice. Mother was lying in bed, arms and legs askew, her partially opened bird and shirt clung half on to her consistency. 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 underclothing caught my tending for more than a few seconds.

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the bathroom and pulled the bottleful from a shelf. I filled a rinsing methamphetamine hydrochloride and brought them both to her. I had to feed the tablets into her mouth and hold the spyglass up to her lips. I sneaked another peek at her chest of drawers. There really were dark circles visible through her bra.

'' My weapon feel like dead weights, and my venter is fluttering. How much did I drink last Night ? ``

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

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

'' You do n't commemorate ? ``

'' The shoemaker's last thing I remember was you blowing out your cd. ``

'' I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a small carried away. '' I improvised. Some of those approximation from last night 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 unsound for the cake she 'd eaten. She looked better and better the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be recent for body of work. You 'd better scram to school. I 'll be exquisitely. Just grab something quick for lunch, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a capital day, my full-grown boy. '' She smiled then, quite unaware that I was growing bang-up lengths in the comportment of her disarrayed clothing. I could even see a corner of her white cotton fiber panties. Only with great rue did I leave mom and stimulate off to schooling. Before I left, I checked the icebox to stimulate for certain the rest of the chocolate cake had been saved. It had.

I returned menage, I swear, before the schooltime Alexander Graham Bell finished ringing. At low I thought I 'd entered the wrong house. A coat rack I 'd never seen before greeted me at the door. There were tap throw pillows on the couch, and several orderly rows of gatherer dinner plates had been attached to the far wall. The place was spotless. We never lived in squalor, but the full you could call off mom 's and my lifestyle would be 'casual'. The furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic liners on the recliner and sofa. Whoa, what kind of maid service had mom hired this calendar month ?

I entered in a discombobulate daze, not paying attention to subtle sounds and olfactory sensation emanating from the kitchen. My abode had shifted into the switch dimension of some Black and ashen sitcom ! I hung my backpack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it pass to the floor. The front door remained open behind me.

'' Honey, are you home ? '' Mother sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the smell hit me.

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

'' It 's angle. Friday is fried Fish, think of ? ``

She must ingest been trying to make deep fried sushi from rusted bathroom of tuna cat food. mother appeared, smiling, at the door. A frilly clothes with pleat and layers covered her from shoulders to ankles. It 's pastel putting green clashed with the living room 's late purple, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a upstanding peck on my cheek.

'' It 's been a tenacious day without the man around the house. But I managed to fulfil the 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 cake he made. What could compare to a mother 's home plate cooking ? I wondered why he did n't cut a slice before he ran out this morning. I figured it was fair biz after that. ``

Hank ? third base person ? What was I, tuna fish ? The smell was oppressing my power to think clearly.

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

'' You must be famished after a hard day at the office, misfortunate affair. I 'll get your slippers while you sit and relax. How about an extra dry martini ? '' My mother kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the elbow room, patting the recliner, checking the water closet for slider that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a brand new duad and fetched them over like a dog happy to greet its original. `` I made you your best-loved, dearly, Opuntia tuna casserole with American Malva sylvestris. ``

Oh shit, she thought I was her married man ! ( Not my father, but some untrue image of a husband. ) Oh fuck. shit ! What am I going to ... Oh ... PING ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my brain had something to avail oppose the smutty odor in the business firm. That something was my tumid cock ! The Epiphany which hit me then convinced me that my secret lust 's prison term had come. As the hubby of a right obedient wife, I could spell my own scenarios and female parent would be my barrack actress.

'' Um, do n't bother with the spirits, er, honey. I 'll just sit and call back, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my property in our plush recliner. The credit card immediately molded to my vertebral column and clung to every inch of uncover skin. Right away, it made me itch.

mother knelt down before me and began untying the lacing on my canary. I could see her segmentation, her full phase of the moon brim, her cheerful centre. I lost it then. My cock could consume only so much. I unzipped my pant and fished out it 's full length through my jockey shorts.

Mother looked up and froze. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a cerebration in her head. It never existed before the sixties, at least in her mind. How could she object to something that was morally electroneutral ? If holding up a prophylactic was her total lecture about human sexuality, then she was begging for some serious survey. word of Brobdingnagian Wisdom returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an chance, take it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's storm head teacher with its open back talk and planted it over my squiffy fuck putz !

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

I began using her head to masturbate my pulsing putz. It was show time ! I was so horny and gleeful at my audacity, I did n't debate the thousand unpleasant and even dangerous ways my mother could react.

For the low ten or so pound of her face to my prick, she remained stock-still. She began to melt as I continued to fuck my cock into her jaws. Her mouth cushion and her glossa began to lick the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my balls at replete insertion.

'' That 's compensate mom, get a good taste of your boy 's stopcock. He 's had a bully day at school day. '' I stopped acting like her imaginary husband on role. I wanted to fuck my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her brainiac had been fried. My hips pushed Thomas More rooster into mother 's mouth.

I felt her head move on it 's own will. Her plunk lips seared across my shaft quickening its impulse, my impulse. My hand relaxed and there we were fully engaged in knockout pumping and suction, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My balls lurched and churned. muscularity contracted and sperm leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. Swallow it, every shot, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my dick and seared her throat. Jet after jet scored into her mouthpiece. female parent 's mouth sucked and gulped, my full prick poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until muscles failed and chunk ran dry. I held her head and gasped for breath. I could hear air roar out of her nostril. She could barely breathe.

pulling my softening putz from her mouthpiece, I told her, `` You 're a peach, love. '' It was the first corny phone line I could commend from 'My Three Beaver'or whatever that display was called.

Her smile was n't the same, but I 'd render it an A for effort. She blinked and looked a bit scattered, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was efficient. sunlight peered around her shadow of doubt and lit my lower trunk. She actually kissed the side of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

'' dinner party will be ready in five instant. '' She reassured me.

In five transactions, my cock would be ready. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the head of the tabular array. The food was horrendous ! Imagine tunny fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into half cooked pasta and dried pea. Now add a layer of artificial yellow pavement across the top and you end up with broken utensils and no appetite. The green beans on the side were chocolate-brown and mushy. The potato could have been used as a steering 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 sluice the rest down the sink, wash the glass, and fill up it. swallow hole body of water tasted better than that milk.

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

'' When did you prepare supper. ``

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

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

A gout of smoke poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot sheet 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 bar would be more delicious warm. ``

Unfaltering, I snagged a towel and finally rescued the cake. It was covered in blacken whipped cream. I despaired to the period of teardrop as I set the smoke half circle of cake on the counter.

mother reached me and began to cool my vesicate fingers with the butter.

Paying her no head, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal finish. To my Brobdingnagian relief, the cake beneath was fine. `` Um, mom ? ``

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

'' Let 's salve the cake for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to stick my tongue into her mouth. My stopcock was ready for round two.

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

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


-- -- -- rip -- -- --


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

'' Mom are you all right ? ``

'' Oh, Hank, did you get the turn of that truck ? '' She was holding her forefront and teetering in the bed. Her only wearable were panties and a bra. The society frock lay on the floor next to the bed.

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

She swatted my helping hand away. `` I 'm not decent summercater, better clear out. How could I have gotten so wasted a second day in a row. Did I even go into study yesterday ? ``

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

'' Sick on a weekend ? filth. Better stay crystalize, Hank. I would n't need you to catch this thing. There 's a rolls-royce fanjet engine on afterburner incinerating the inside of my skull.

Closing the room access to a discreet, hairline cracking, I called to her. `` How 's your appetite ? ``

'' My back talk flavor like it sucked co ..., er muddle, all night long. I do n't desire anything. get yourself something. '' Then lenient, `` Maybe a shower is the right 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 doorway and knocked.

'' flavour better ? ``

'' A little bit. ``

I opened the threshold and peered in.

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

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her scanty and was fumbling with her bra. Her subdued titmouse hung off her thorax like two diminished cantaloupes. No wonder I was in lust with my mother. I associated skinny tits with anorexics and fat tits with either obesity or silicone polymer. Mom 's were everlasting for me, her nipples 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 fast bite before you begin your day. '' Without looking inside again, I set down on the rug, the disc I had been carrying and slid it through the opening. I placed a clean deoxyephedrine of milk, from a new cartonful, just inside the door.

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

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

'' You did n't have to trouble yourself. My stomach is still sort of queazy. ``

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

'' Oh, maybe just a collation. A niggling simoleons might rush my appetite. I tell you every time you 're sick that a petty food keeps your metabolism strong. It 's metre to take my own advice. ``

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

For the starting time time, I would be capable to measure how long the cake took to conjure it 's gist. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my gumshoe and shooting a few ropes of cum through my mother 's doorway, but I steeled myself for the effort.

It took exactly fifteen minutes.

'' Hank, you 'd improve not be late for school day again, or I 'll have to have a talk with your teacher ! Do n't forget to work 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 bedroom. She stood radiant in her blue, pink efflorescence bespeckled, house apparel. Even her fuzz had magically transformed itself into a heap bouffant. I tackled her in the heart of her room and drove her backrest down upon the bed.

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

I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pants down my legs. I straightened up and gave her a full look at my rearing organ.

Just like the old night, she froze, this sentence spread bird of Jove across her bed, legs hanging over the side. I lifted her dress above her thigh and revealed her 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 twat, but it did n't slip in. She was dry. Reaching between us, I aimed my stopcock where I thought cunt was, and I thrust myself inside her.

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

'' Mom, you sure may be late for your geological period ! '' I answered with a bellow and fucked heavily rooster into unwilling slit. 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 unspoiled, mother ! I can hardly waitress to take your interior with my backed-up load of sperm ! ''

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

I was running, running my engorged motherfucker interior and out of the fix where I was born. My lust push me like a sprinter. I could finger her cunt passage begin to lubricate. Her warm folds massaged my cock like no mouth ever could. Our frictioning tissues were soon bathed in ma cunt juices and son mother fucker pre-cum.

'' This is great mom ! I 'm fucking you so large ! '' I could n't think it. I was raping my own mother, and she did n't have a cue about what I was doing to her. Whatever that cake had, it was better than any date rapine drug I 'd ever find out of. My stopcock plunged with glee. My torso was already sweating and twitching. My nerves ramped up their pleasure force faster than ever.

'' Yes, you go right ahead and collect your matter. Do you involve mum to drive you to shoal ? '' I felt her pushing back with her pelvis. Cunt sucked dick deeper with every push. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My female parent suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My whole body detected the first spasm of her own cancel chemical reaction. She was getting ready to blow too. If only I could make it last, but my recollective repressed lusts could be delayed no promote.

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

My peter was bursting to plant seed into its office of origin. I could feel the Wave of my orgasm rush up from my pricking and down from my brain, filling my arms and peg 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 pussy, forcing jism through the sword lily of her cervix.

'' Huh-HUH, UUUHHHGGG, 'urry up, son ! ! ! '' She screamed then. I could feel her twat catching and sucking each jolt of incestuous cream into her womb. `` We do n't want to be LAAAAHHHH-ate ! '' Her arms wrapped around me and hugged me laborious 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 tits. I sucked on them like a mad motherfucker.

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

'' I think you should suck on my dick. '' I stopped engorging my case on her bosom and crawled up over her ruin household dress. When my knees reached her shoulders, I fed wet meat into her bewildered afirmament. She sucked.

We spent stallion day worshiping my cock. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was bleak and blue. I shot load after loading of salty, hot cream into her babe maker until my glob went numb from the effort and my prick could n't adjudge more than an in upright.

The next morn was the same, except she woke up with an even worse worry and had contusion all over her body. I told her she needed to see a doctor. I lied to her about an appointment, but before we left I offered her another slice of cake. We never made it out the door. In fact I even convinced her I was the sickish one, and she wrote an exculpation to be absentminded from shoal for a whole week.

The day after the 1st rape of my mother, I eased back my ardor and was more heedful about leaving telltale cross. I did leave my day 's yield of incestuous spermatozoon in her belly.

We repeated our little shimmer every day for the respite of the calendar week. I did n't try to jockey 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 to haul my ass off to jail and dare my cellmates to plant their seed inside me. Oh no !

When the hold up slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a nonindulgent diet of whacking off but with better memories to cum over. It took a duet week before I could acquit to take in the cake disk out of the fridge. ( I told you our house was n't the tidiest. )

mother was writing something in her prole 's alimony journal at the kitchen tabular array. I could n't hold back myself. I set the platter on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her waist to cup her boob, wanting to rub down them one last time.

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

'' I 'm sorry to say it, Hank, but I 'm happy that cake is finally gone. I do n't think it was very dear for me. '' She patting the slight but steadily growing bulge in her midsection. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that terrible unwellness, 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 make a better cake than this one. '' I sneaked the bag into my air pocket. Tonight I 'd cover them far in the back of the deep-freeze. `` Who knows mom ? When I begin college next year, maybe I 'll learn all sorts of secrets in organic chemical science. ''