Good Golly, Mrs. Mommy !

by DiscipleN


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You know how it is, when it 's your birthday, and you 've unwrapped your nowadays, and you blow out the candles on your natal day cake, and everyone compliments you 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY ! !', and they sing Sung and swat your butt, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to fuck her Sir Thomas More than anything ? Well, I do n't manage if you think that 's messed up, or that I should cut off my scrotum and sew it into a flaming hand bag. When you consider what happened next, you would n't care either !

'' lamb, would you please fetch my hand bag ? '' mother smiled. She wiped a big glob of blister cream from the corner of her mouth and licked her fingers. `` Just conceive, in a couple years, we 'll be capable to celebrate with something more stiff than deep brown cake and ice emollient. ``

'' sure enough mom. '' I reached for the diminutive imitation of a carpetbag sitting on the kitchen riposte. I handed it over and watched her pry into its tamp contents.

'' I 'm so glad you took that home economics social class, your cake is delicious ! '' She was kind not to mention that whipped ointment was an unusual frosting for chocolate cake. She continued to mine her bag. `` Here we go. '' female parent pulled her manus out of her feminine packsack and held up a condom.

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

'' Yeah mom, it 's a caoutchouc. '' What 'd she think, that I was out of the loop of 90 nine percent of my high schooling, like fundamentalistic christians who are n't allowed to use the letter'x'in typesetter's case they might spell a frightful, three letter word of honor with it ?

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

'' Mom, I got my permission a yr 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 drinking anything except bottled water.

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

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

'' Do n't sacrifice me that flavour immature man. What if you got into an accident ? The category Desoto would be ruined, and your founding father would n't be able-bodied to commute to figure out. Why, he 'd induce to learn the bus like one of those poor, inauspicious Black. ``

'Negroes ?'I pushed my chair back and seriously considered shitting in my bloomers. Hell, black guys in the schoolhouse 's computing device nightclub would swear out 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. `` mighty mom. That 's a effective one. ``

'' Hmmph ! You listen to me, young man. I 'll not have you disrespect me like that. It may be your natal day, 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 elbow room. Any minute I expected Rod Serling to grovel out of the oven and give me the Heimleck maneuver.

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

Out of sheer mental rejection, I stood up, seize my giving certificate for Wal-Mart and my three new Gamera DVDs, walked out, up the steps, and into my room.

This had to be percentage 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 will our bathroom. My idea drifted, trying to imagine my female parent 's firm hips and quart size tit, their mammilla swollen, water sweeping soap suds down her tall, slenderize figure. I grabbed my boner and gave it a hardy wanking, wondering if mother ever wanked her, as I imagined it, puffed out clit. It 's a large way to begin the day and pass clip while the toilet was occupied.

After my own cascade, I met mom in the kitchen. She kissed me on the face and wished me felicitous birthday. I helped her make breakfast. My mom is n't the big cook. She 's more in all likelihood to heat a packet of instant creamed food grain than whip up nut florentine. We compromised and had scrambled eggs with my limited hash browns.

Yeah, I got plenty of kidding taking a Home Ec. family, but a span 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 birthday patty. I could recall of nothing abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a list of ingredients to blame up at the store. She would meet me at noonday, and I 'd use the school 's kitchen after my grade. I already had license. I did n't particularly like our own kitchen oven, it had a nasty substance abuse of dropping 30 degrees in the centre of a two hour chateaubriant.

When she met me at noonday, she handed over an ice chest with all those toothsome deep brown cake ingredients. She had n't spared any disbursal, gourmet chocolate sauce, dutch cocoa powder, staff vine chocolate crisp, organic flour, milk, ballock, butter, whipping emollient, cane sugar, and really vanilla extract. Mom helped me lug the chest of drawers to the school kitchen wardrobe. It did n't fit my locker.

'' effective fate, Hank. I 'm glad I wo n't be around to screw it up by accident. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet locomotive engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen tools with the same 'big wrench'mental attitude as her body of work tools.

There was zip odd about mom at tiffin time. The get-go heartbreak in my day came from an unexpected focusing. When the schooling Melville Bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen aegir to craft some racy chocolate cake. I could taste the attendant goodness, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my headway. It would be a long wait while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long wait. There, standing around the surface W.C. and opened ice pectus were six guys from the hockey team. Their mouths were covered with non-white sauce, and they pulled on the Milk River carton like they were partying at a kegger.

'' What the screw ! That was presuppose to be my birthday patty. '' I screamed at them. I did n't love I had it in me.

The biggest one of them looked my way and chuckled. `` well-chosen birthday twerp. You 're welcome to whatever 's left. ``

'' Sorry. '' Another turned to me and grinned. The former 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 ossify with reverence.

Having finished raiding the 'good bits'in the ice chest, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the door. The cobbler's last one cracked an egg over my head. He had the nerve to explain the obvious.

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

The room access slammed behind me, my body quivering from their threatening subtext. Egg gabardine dripped down my scent. I think I had a fit then. The immediate afterward is a blur in my retentivity. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my head in a sink I took inventory of what was left : three eggs, whipping ointment, butter, and a discharge of flour evidently used in a game of grab. Even the vanilla bottle was missing. One of them must consume been able to read the Logos alcohol on the label. I was upset, but I was n't devastated. I prowled around the kitchen looking for something, anything that might help me get a traveling bag. In the far box of the Same water closet I found a cardboard box of old food stuffs.

about schools do n't proffer cooking family anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as ho-hum to exchange as it 's mascot. The stuff I discovered must hold been collected over the years, things that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda, Navy attic, several spices ( probably flavorless ), dried mushroom, powdered sugar, and a few box mixes for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring sloppy joes. At the very fundament, I noticed an antediluvian looking logo for `` aunty rocker 's Beelzebub 's nutrient Cake ''. It was an old box mix for chocolate cake.

The day of the month stamp on it ... inferno, there was n't a day of the month legal tender on it. The trademark appointment for the logotype said 1947. I did n't wish. Two hours later, I returned dwelling house, ready to lionize my birthday. The only thing that bugged me was, female parent did n't seem to notice the difference between one of my New oven wonders and this timeworn effigy to a fair sex 's place in the family. She had two helpings. I carved a narrow piece but could n't withdraw Sir Thomas More than a few bites of it 's sawdust like consistency. I begged baker 's snacking as an self-justification for being wax. I did notice mom 's extra helpings of whipped cream and ice cream with each slice. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the condom. Shit, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my room. I poisoned my own female parent with fossilized bar mix ! All those chemic stabilizers and texturizers and artificial flavors and colors must accept combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd better call the doctor !

Right, and narrate her what ? mammy 's acting like a gloomy Gus ? She 's delirious, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd detest the see the doctor 's bill for that pinch telephone set outcry. All I could do was sit on my bed and cross my fingers, hoping her immune arrangement would contend off the chemicals.

A duad 60 minutes later, tedium 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 ordered me to leave alone. I found her in the living way, sitting straight up on the couch, staring at the curtains like a prairie dog.

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

'' Mom, dad died three years ago. '' I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could snap her out of it, but my own store of his exit welled up in my heart.

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

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

I found myself staring at my mother 's tits. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my pants, trying to push it flat behind the slide fastener. When she did n't take observance, I took a goodness flavor. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a hint of a coloured lap behind her bra ? My fingering became a light tapping. The cock in my pants had begun it 's death borderland. I knew I 'd have to blow a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue Lucille Ball perdition. Mother did n't move a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't react. Her cutis felt terribly ardent, as if she were running a fever. I placed the back of my hand to her frontal bone. It was hot. I felt a light source sweat on her brow. I noticed her human face glistening like a thoroughgoing, porcelain dame. I could n't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far side of meat of her covered breast. My cock did a dancing in my drawers, but it did n't tear. I was n't that close. I felt her move then. She looked up first and then at my invading hand. Then her headway swiveled back and her eyes met mine.

'' Oh honey, I have a painful headache. Maybe we can do this another time. '' That said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the steps to her bedchamber. I was the one who did n't move then. My mind was flooded with incredible estimate, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her doorway close, I opened my pants and released the throbbing animate being that commanded me. After several hardy jerked meat on my prick, I shot fourteen tablespoons of sperm into the carpet.

The succeeding morning, I was able-bodied to get into the shower bath first. When I went down to the kitchen, female parent was n't anywhere below. netherworld, she 's going to be late for oeuvre. I had almost forgotten the night before. I raced upstairs to her sleeping accommodation and pounded on the door !

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

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

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the lav and pulled the bottleful from a shelf. I filled a rinsing glass and brought them both to her. I had to bung the tablets into her mouth and sustain the ice up to her brim. I sneaked another peek at her chest of drawers. There really were iniquity circles seeable through her bra.

'' My arms feel like dead system of weights, and my tummy is fluttering. How much did I toast last night ? ``

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

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

'' You do n't recall ? ``

'' The death thing I remember was you blowing out your wax light. ``

'' I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a little carried away. '' I improvised. Some of those ideas 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 female parent was n't all that defective for the patty she 'd eaten. She looked better and better the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be late for workplace. You 'd break scram to shoal. I 'll be fine. Just catch something quick for dejeuner, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my fully grown boy. '' She smiled then, quite incognizant that I was growing great length in the presence of her disarrayed vesture. I could even see a corner of her E. B. White cotton panty. Only with great regret did I leave mom and rush off to schooling. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to make sure the rest of the chocolate cake had been saved. It had.

I returned home, I swear, before the school toll finished ringing. At offset I thought I 'd entered the wrong household. A pelage stand I 'd never seen before greeted me at the door. There were pink throw pillows on the couch, and several orderly row of collector dinner plates had been attached to the far rampart. The place was spotless. We never lived in sordidness, but the best you could call mom 's and my modus vivendi would be 'casual'. The furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic ocean liner on the recliner and couch. Whoa, what kind of amah service had mom hired this month ?

I entered in a amaze haze, not paying aid to subtle phone and look emanating from the kitchen. My habitation had shifted into the alternate attribute of some black and white sitcom ! I hung my backpack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it fall to the floor. The front door remained capable 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 fish. Friday is fried fish, remember ? ``

She must take in been trying to ca-ca rich fried sushi from rusted fundament of tuna cat food. mother appeared, smiling, at the door. A frilly dress with pleats and stratum covered her from shoulders to ankle joint. It 's pastel green clashed with the living room 's late purpleness, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a solid raft on my cheek.

'' It 's been a long day without the man around the house. But I managed to occupy 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 equate to a female parent 's rest home cooking ? I wondered why he did n't cut a slice before he ran out this dayspring. I figured it was evenhandedly game after that. ``

Hank ? one-third mortal ? What was I, tuna Pisces the Fishes ? The olfactory perception was oppressing my power to retrieve clearly.

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

'' You must be famished after a hard day at the power, misfortunate thing. I 'll get your carpet slipper 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 press for slippers that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a trade name new dyad and fetched them over like a dog happy to greet its master. `` I made you your favorite, near, tuna casserole with American English tall mallow. ``

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

Now my psyche had something to help fight down the nasty olfactory sensation in the house. That something was my erect shaft ! The Twelfth day which hit me then convinced me that my secret lust 's clip had come. As the married man of a properly obedient married woman, I could drop a line my own scenarios and mother would be my inspire actress.

'' Um, do n't bother with the booze, er, honey. I 'll just sit and consider, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my billet in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my back and clung to every inch of exposed skin. rightfield away, it made me itch.

female parent knelt down before me and began untying the laces on my sneakers. I could see her segmentation, her entire lips, her cheerful middle. I lost it then. My cock could charter only so much. I unzipped my pants and fished out it 's full distance through my jockey shorts.

Mother looked up and immobilise. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a opinion in her head. It never existed before the sixty, at least in her psyche. How could she object to something that was morally neutral ? If holding up a rubber was her entire public lecture about human sexuality, then she was begging for some dangerous study. countersign of huge soundness returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an chance, take it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's surprised head with its open rima oris and planted it over my stiff fuck pecker !

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

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

For the first ten or so poundings of her facial expression to my dickhead, she remained frozen. She began to melt as I continued to fuck my cock into her jaws. Her mouth muted and her tongue began to solve the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my Ball at full insertion.

'' That 's right mommy, get a expert taste of your boy 's cock. He 's had a street fighter day at school. '' I stopped acting like her imaginary husband on purpose. I wanted to make love my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her encephalon had been fried. My coxa pushed more tool into mother 's mouth.

I felt her head relocation on it 's own volition. Her flump lips seared across my beam of light quickening its pulse, my heartbeat. My hand relaxed and there we were fully engaged in voiceless pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My balls lurched and churned. Muscles contracted and sperm cell leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. swallow it, every shot, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my peter and seared her throat. Jet after jet scored into her sassing. Mother 's sassing sucked and gulped, my full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until sinew failed and balls ran dry. I held her point and gasped for breathing space. I could see air howl out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe.

pulling my softening cock from her back talk, I told her, `` You 're a stunner, beloved. '' It was the first corny line I could remember from 'My Three opera hat'or whatever that show was called.

Her smile was n't the Saami, but I 'd give it an A for cause. She blinked and looked a bit confused, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was in effect. Sunshine peered around her dark of doubt and lit my lower berth organic structure. She actually kissed the side of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

'' Dinner will be fix in five instant. '' She reassured me.

In five minutes, my cock would be gear up. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the head of the tabular array. The intellectual nourishment was horrendous ! Imagine tuna fish mixed with mayo stirred into half cooked alimentary paste and dried pea. Now add a layer of artificial lily-livered pavement across the top and you end up with fracture utensils and no appetite. The leafy vegetable beans on the face were Brown University and soppy. The tater could let been used as a wheel occlusion, and the milk, even the frigging milk tasted it like it had been pissed in.

'' What did you do with the Milk River, mom ? '' I asked as I ran to the sink to flush the relaxation down the sink, rinse the glass, and fill it. Sink pee tasted in effect than that milk.

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

'' When did you gear up supper. ``

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

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

A gouty arthritis of smoke poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot bed sheet supporting what was left of my cake. `` AAAHHH ! '' I screamed when the plane 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 delicious warm. ``

Unfaltering, I snagged a towel and finally rescued the cake. It was covered in sear whipped cream. I despaired to the power point of snag as I set the smoke half roundabout of bar on the counter.

female parent reached me and began to cool my scald finger with the butter.

Paying her no brain, I took a tongue and scraped off the charcoal finish. To my vast embossment, the cake beneath was fine. `` Um, mom ? ``

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

'' Let 's save the bar for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to stick my knife into her mouth. My shaft was prepare for bout two.

Mother pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder. `` Really, beloved you ought to deport. I have such a vexation. 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 severalise 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 phone number of that motortruck ? '' She was holding her head and teetering in the bed. Her only clothing were panties and a bra. The society dress lay on the floor next to the bed.

'' Let me assist you in the shower bath. '' I suggested.

She swatted my hands away. `` I 'm not decent sport, better clear out. How could I have gotten so wasted a mo day in a row. Did I even go into workplace yesterday ? ``

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

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

conclusion the threshold to a discreet, hairline crack cocaine, I called to her. `` How 's your appetite ? ``

'' My mouth tone like it sucked co ..., er kettle of fish, all Nox long. I do n't want anything. construct yourself something. '' Then delicate, `` Maybe a cascade is the right thing. ``

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

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

'' Feel better ? ``

'' A lilliputian bit. ``

I opened the door and peered in.

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

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her panties and was fumbling with her bra. Her flaccid tits hung off her chest like two pocket-size cantaloupes. No admiration I was in lust with my female parent. I associated skinny tits with anorexics and fat titty with either fleshiness or silicone. Mom 's were perfect for me, her mammilla were also sized in sinister easing. That was all I could harvest before pulling back behind the door.

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

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

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

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

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

'' Oh, maybe just a bite. A little sugar might provoke my appetence. I tell you every sentence you 're sick that a little food keeps your metabolism strong. It 's time to take my own advice. ``

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

For the first meter, I would be able-bodied to appraise how long the patty took to call down it 's issue. I doubted I could waitress very long without grabbing my prick 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 better not be late for school again, or I 'll suffer to have a public lecture with your teacher ! Do n't draw a blank to impart your written 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 workweek. I rushed inside the bedroom. She stood radiant in her blue devil, pink flower bespeckled, house frock. Even her whisker had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the middle of her room and drove her hinder down upon the bed.

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

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

Just like the premature night, she froze, this fourth dimension spread eagle across her bed, legs dangling over the position. I lifted her dress above her thigh and revealed her white-hot step-in. 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 slip 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 you 're not going to be later for school ! ``

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

'' Oohh, it 's so good, mother ! I can hardly expect to fill your interior with my backed-up load of sperm ! ''

'' That 's all right, honey. I 'll clean up the wad in the kitchen. You just run along. ``

I was running, running my engorged prick inside and out of the golf hole where I was born. My lustfulness drove me like a sprinter. I could palpate her slit passageway Begin to lubricate. Her affectionate sheep pen massaged my cock like no oral fissure ever could. Our frictioning tissue were soon bathed in mommy bitch juices and son sting pre-cum.

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

'' Yes, you go right ahead and pull in your matter. Do you need mom to drive you to school ? '' I felt her pushing back with her hips. Cunt sucked shaft deeper with every thrust. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My mother suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My whole consistence detected the first muscle spasm of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to blow too. If only I could give it last, but my foresighted strangle lusts could be delayed no further.

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

My rooster was bursting to plant seed into its place of origin. I could palpate the moving ridge of my orgasm rush up from my prick and down from my brain, filling my arms and branch and exploding out from my center.

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

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

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

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

'' I think you should suck on my prick. '' I stopped engorging my face on her breast and crawled up over her done for household dress. When my knee reached her berm, I fed wet meat into her bewildered afirmament. She sucked.

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

The next morning was the like, except she woke up with an even worse headache and had contusion all over her body. I told her she needed to see a medico. I lied to her about an appointment, but before we left I offered her another cut of cake. We never made it out the room access. In fact I even convinced her I was the honk one, and she wrote an excuse to be absent from school for a totally week.

The day after the first rape of my female parent, I eased back my ardor and was more careful about leaving taleteller marks. I did leave my day 's output of incestuous spermatozoan in her belly.

We repeated our little play every day for the respite of the workweek. I did n't try to cheat myself. I cut the same size of cake cut 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 hand to haul my ass off to jail and dare my cellmates to plant their come inside me. Oh no !

When the finish cut was consumed and consummated, I went back to a strict dieting of whacking off but with estimable store to cum over. It took a duo weeks before I could bear to deal the cake platter out of the fridge. ( I told you our firm was n't the goodish. )

Mother was writing something in her worker 's maintenance daybook at the kitchen table. I could n't check myself. I set the platter on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her shank to cup her tits, wanting to massage them one endure meter.

Mother spun around, and she slapped my nerve, hard ! `` Hank ! We may live in a fairly barren thinking, Bodoni font world, but everything has it 's limits. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the evacuate cake home base to the sink. Mother shook her headspring. She probably felt bad about having to respond so harshly.

'' I 'm sorry to say it, Hank, but I 'm gladiola that cake is finally gone. I do n't intend it was very good for me. '' She patting the slight but steadily growing bump in her middle. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that terrible illness, but recently I 've been waking up disgorge to my tum. 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 punter cake than this one. '' I sneaked the bag into my pocket. Tonight I 'd veil them far in the back of the freezer. `` Who knows mom ? When I begin college next year, maybe I 'll con all sorts of secrets in organic chemistry. ''