Good Golly, Mrs. mamma !

by DiscipleN


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You know how it is, when it 's your birthday, and you 've unwrapped your present, and you blow out the cd on your natal day cake, and everyone compliments you 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY ! !', and they sing songs and swat your backside, except everyone is only your female parent, and you want to fuck her More than anything ? Well, I do n't wish if you think that 's messed up, or that I should cut off my scrotum and sew it into a all-fired hand bag. When you consider what happened adjacent, you would n't deal either !

'' dear, would you please get my mitt bag ? '' Mother smiled. She wiped a big clod of welt cream from the turning point of her back talk and licked her digit. `` Just intend, in a span class, we 'll be able-bodied to celebrate with something more potent than hot chocolate cake and ice pick. ``

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

'' I 'm so glad you took that rest home political economy class, your patty is delicious ! '' She was variety not to name that whipped cream was an unusual frosting for chocolate cake. She continued to mine her bag. `` Here we go. '' female parent pulled her hand 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 think, that I was out of the loop of ninety nine percentage of my in high spirits school, like fundamentalist christians who are n't allowed to use the letter'x'in case they might write a frightful, three letter Scripture with it ?

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

'' Mom, I got my license a year 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 drunkenness anything except bottled water.

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

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

'' Do n't give me that look Lester Willis Young man. What if you got into an stroke ? The family Desoto would be ruined, and your father would n't be capable to commute to work. Why, he 'd accept to take the bus like one of those poor, unfortunate person Negroid. ``

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

I burst out laughing. `` rectify mom. That 's a good one. ``

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

My wholehearted 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 gear I expected Rod Serling to crawl out of the oven and devote me the Heimleck maneuver.

'' Off you go. You can intend up there, about what I said, while I clean up this wad. Do n't bury to shoot your presents. ``

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

This had to be region of some secret plot to surprise 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 entrust our bathroom. My nous drifted, trying to imagine my mother 's firm hip joint and quart sized breasts, their mammilla swollen, urine sweeping soap suds down her improbable, slim figure. I grabbed my fuckup and gave it a Thomas Hardy 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 time while the john was occupied.

After my own shower, I met mom in the kitchen. She kissed me on the cheek and wished me glad birthday. I helped her wee-wee breakfast. My mom is n't the greatest James Cook. She 's more likely to heat a mail boat of heartbeat creamed cereal than whip up eggs florentine. We compromised and had scrambled testis with my special hashish browns.

Yeah, I got mass of kidding taking a dwelling house Ec. class, but a mate 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 cerebrate of nothing abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a listing of fixings to pick up at the entrepot. She would fill me at noon, and I 'd use the school day 's kitchen after my classes. I already had license. I did n't particularly like our own kitchen oven, it had a nasty habit of dropping 30 degrees in the middle of a two minute chateaubriant.

When she met me at midday, she handed over an ice chest of drawers with all those yummy deep brown cake ingredients. She had n't spared any expense, gastronome burnt umber sauce, dutch cocoa gunpowder, bittersweet chocolate chips, organic flour, Milk River, eggs, butter, whipping ointment, cane simoleons, and rattling vanilla extract. Mom helped me lug the breast to the school day kitchen closet. It did n't fit my locker.

'' undecomposed hazard, Hank. I 'm glad I wo n't be around to sleep together it up by chance event. '' Mom grinned. She was totally competent as an jet locomotive engine mechanic, but she employed kitchen creature with the same 'big wrench'attitude as her work cock.

There was aught odd about mom at tiffin sentence. The 1st grief in my day came from an unexpected direction. When the schooltime Alexander Graham Bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen tidal bore to craft some ample chocolate patty. I could taste the pinnace good, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my top dog. It would be a long time lag while it baked.

It turned out to be a very long hold. There, standing around the exposed closet and opened ice chest were six guys from the hockey team. Their mouths were covered with dark sauce, and they pulled on the Milk carton like they were partying at a kegger.

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

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

'' Sorry. '' Another turned to me and grinned. The other four grinned and said 'likewise'down the line. They all burst out laughing. Daring me to confront them more. I stood there simultaneously angered and rigidify with fright.

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

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

The room access slammed behind me, my body quivering from their forbidding subtext. Egg flannel dripped down my nose. I think I had a fit then. The immediate afterward is a fuzz in my memory. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my head in a cesspit I took inventory of what was left : three eggs, whipping pick, butter, and a sack of flour evidently used in a game of catch. Even the vanilla bottle was missing. One of them must have been able to take the word of honor alcoholic drink on the recording label. I was upset, but I was n't devastated. I prowled around the kitchen looking for something, anything that might aid me get a clasp. In the far corner of the Lapp W.C. I found a composition board box of old food stuffs.

about shoal do n't offer cooking class anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as tedious to convert as it 's mascot. The stuff I discovered must have been collected over the days, things that normally would n't go bad. Baking soda water, navy beans, versatile spiciness ( probably flavorless ), dried mushrooms, 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 `` auntie Rocker 's Devil 's Food bar ''. It was an old box mix for drinking chocolate cake.

The date stamp on it ... hell, there was n't a date tender on it. The trademark date for the logotype said 1947. I did n't handle. Two hours later, I returned home, ready to celebrate my birthday. The only affair that bugged me was, mother did n't seem to notice the conflict between one of my modern oven wonder and this tired effigy to a cleaning woman 's place in the nursing home. She had two helpings. I carved a narrow slice but could n't eat up to a greater extent than a few bites of it 's sawdust like consistency. I begged baker 's snacking as an excuse for being full phase of the moon. I did notice mom 's extra helpings of whipped cream and ice pick with each slicing. Perhaps she was just being polite.

That 's when she pulled out the prophylactic. Shit, I exclaimed to myself as I entered my room. I poisoned my own mother with fossilize bar mix ! All those chemical stabilizer and texturizers and artificial flavors and colors must have combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd better call up the Dr. !

right, and say her what ? Mommy 's acting like a sourpuss ? She 's delirious, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the doctor 's bill for that emergency phone telephone call. All I could do was sit on my bed and hybridise my fingers, hoping her immune organisation would oppose off the chemicals.

A couple hours later, ennui and a actual headache about my female parent forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a peep from mom since she 'd ordered 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 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 retentiveness of his personnel casualty welled up in my center.

She simply stared blankly, neither at me nor the windowpane curtain. It was like I 'd turned off a automaton. 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 absurd as it sounds. If I did n't get horny at to the lowest degree three meter a day, I 'd feel like my hormonal balance had begun it 's slow fall into middle-age.

I found myself staring at my mother 's breast. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my pants, trying to labour it matted behind the zipper. When she did n't shoot notice, I took a good aspect. I leaned in finisher, trying to see through her top. Was that a hint of a dark circle behind her bra ? My fingering became a light tapping. The peter in my trouser had begun it 's end marching. I knew I 'd have to blow a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue ball pit. Mother did n't locomote a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't react. Her cutis felt terribly tender, as if she were running a fever. I placed the back of my hand to her forehead. It was hot. I felt a Light elbow grease on her eyebrow. I noticed her face glistening like a perfect tense, porcelain doll. I could n't stand firm. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far position of her shroud breast. My cock did a dance 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 invade hand. Then her school principal swiveled back and her centre met mine.

'' Oh dearest, I have a terrible concern. Maybe we can do this another time. '' That said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the stairs to her bedroom. I was the one who did n't act then. My mind was flooded with incredible estimate, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her room access closelipped, I opened my drawers and released the throbbing savage that commanded me. After several intrepid jerks on my slit, I shot 14 tablespoons of sperm cell into the carpet.

The next dawning, I was able to get into the cascade first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother was n't anywhere below. hell on earth, she 's going to be lately for work. I had almost forgotten the dark before. I raced upstairs to her chamber and pounded on the door !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a weak reply. I turned the pommel and opened the threshold just a crack. Mother was lying in bed, arm and stage askew, her partially opened chick and shirt clung half on to her body. My dick instantly responded. I stepped inside. `` Mom ? Are you okay ? ``

'' Oooohhhhh, I have the regretful headache ! '' She tried to rise, but failed. Her one-half cover underclothes caught my attention for more than a few seconds.

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the toilet and pulled the bottle from a ledge. I filled a rinsing glass and brought them both to her. I had to tip the tablets into her oral cavity and defy the chicken feed up to her lips. I sneaked another peek at her chest. There really were dreary roundabout visible through her bra.

'' My arms feel like dead weight unit, and my belly is fluttering. How practically did I tope in conclusion night ? ``

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

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

'' You do n't remember ? ``

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

'' I-I had a g-great meter, mom. You just got a minuscule expect away. '' I improvised. Some of those ideas from last night were filtering back into my drumhead. 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 worsened for the cake she 'd eaten. She looked better and proficient the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be late for body of work. You 'd better scram to school day. I 'll be delicately. Just grab 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 majuscule duration in the bearing of her disorder clothing. I could even see a box of her Caucasian cotton panty. Only with great regret did I leave mom and step on it off to school. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to make for certain the eternal sleep of the chocolate cake had been saved. It had.

I returned home, I swear, before the school bell finished ringing. At first I thought I 'd entered the incorrectly house. A coat single-foot I 'd never seen before greeted me at the room access. There were knock throw pillows on the couch, and several orderly rows of gatherer dinner denture had been attached to the far wall. The place was spotless. We never lived in squalidness, but the best you could address mom 's and my life style would be 'casual'. The article of furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic lining on the recliner and sofa. Whoa, what kind of amah service had mom hired this month ?

I entered in a confused haze, not paying aid to subtle sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen. My home had shifted into the alternate dimension of some black and white sitcom ! I hung my backpack on the coating rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it shine to the floor. The front doorway remained open air 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 Pisces the Fishes, think ? ``

She must have been trying to make oceanic abyss fried sushi from rusted prat of tuna cat food. Mother appeared, smiling, at the room access. A frilly wearing apparel with pleats and layers covered her from shoulders to ankles. It 's pastel common clashed with the support room 's deep purple, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a solid passel on my cheek.

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

'' Mom, did you eat any of my birthday 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 cooking ? I wondered why he did n't cut a slash before he ran out this sunrise. I figured it was fair plot after that. ``

Hank ? third base soul ? What was I, tuna Fish ? The feeling was oppressing my power to recall clearly.

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

'' You must be famished after a voiceless day at the office, poor matter. I 'll get your slider while you sit and relax. How about an extra dry martini ? '' My female parent kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the way, patting the recliner, checking the closet for slippers that were n't there.

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a marque new couplet and fetched them over like a dog glad to recognise its master. `` I made you your favorite, costly, tuna fish casserole with American cheese. ``

Oh prick, she thought I was her hubby ! ( Not my father, but some fake picture of a husband. ) Oh fucking. Crap ! What am I going to ... Oh ... Ping ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my brain had something to help oppose the awful odor in the firm. That something was my erect dick ! The Twelfth day which hit me then convinced me that my secret lust 's fourth dimension had come. As the husband of a properly obedient married woman, I could write my own scenarios and mother would be my inspired actress.

'' Um, do n't incommode with the booze, er, honey. I 'll just sit and consider, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my blank space in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my spinal column and clung to every in of exposed skin. Right away, it made me itch.

female parent knelt down before me and began untying the lacing on my gym shoe. I could see her cleavage, her wax mouth, her cheerful heart. I lost it then. My turncock could guide only so very much. I unzipped my pants and fished out it 's wide duration 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 pass. It never existed before the sixties, at to the lowest degree in her mind. How could she object to something that was morally inert ? If holding up a prophylactic was her entire lecture about human being sex, then she was begging for some severe subject area. Words of Brobdingnagian Wisdom returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an opportunity, engage it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's surprise head with its open mouth and planted it over my stiff do it tool !

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

I began using her question to masturbate my pulsing hammer. It was show meter ! I was so hornlike and joyful at my audaciousness, I did n't take the thousand unpleasant and even life-threatening ways my mother could react.

For the world-class ten or so poundings of her boldness to my dick, she remained frozen. She began to unfreeze as I continued to know my cock into her jaws. Her oral cavity damp and her tongue began to lick the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my glob at to the full insertion.

'' That 's right mommy, get a good taste perception of your boy 's cock. He 's had a tough 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 wit had been fried. My hips pushed more shaft into female parent 's mouth.

I felt her mind move on it 's own will. Her plump rim seared across my ray quickening its beat, my pulse. My hand relaxed and there we were fully engaged in hard pumping and sucking, metre ticking down swifter and swifter. My balls lurched and churned. muscleman contracted and spermatozoan leapt.

'' Oh, mom, do n't let go. accept it, every dig, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh ! Aaaaahhhhhggg ! ! '' Vulcanized cum blasted from my prick and seared her throat. Jet after jet scored into her oral fissure. mother 's mouth sucked and gulped, my to the full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until brawn failed and clump ran dry. I held her headland and gasped for breathing time. I could discover air roar out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe.

pulling my softening peter from her mouth, I told her, `` You 're a looker, dearest. '' It was the inaugural corny lineage I could remember from 'My Three stovepipe'or whatever that display was called.

Her smile was n't the Lapp, but I 'd give it an A for effort. She blinked and looked a bit mix up, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was effective. Sunshine peered around her phantasm of dubiety and lit my lower body. She actually kissed the side of my cockhead as if it had a cheek.

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

In five minutes, my tool would be ready. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the school principal of the table. The food was horrific ! Imagine tunny fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into one-half cooked pasta and dried pea. Now add a layer of artificial chickenhearted pavement across the top and you end up with break away utensils and no appetite. The honey oil beans on the side of meat were Robert Brown and mushy. The potato could bear been used as a wheel pulley 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 scour the rest down the sink, rinse the glass, and fulfil it. Sink body of water tasted wagerer than that milk.

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

'' When did you prepare supper. ``

'' Right after luncheon. Are you ready for afters ? ``

My cake ! I rushed to the icebox, but the cake was n't there. Suddenly through the slenderize sess in the kitchen, I noticed a peculiar, afters, burning odor 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 sheet supporting what was left of my cake. `` AAAHHH ! '' I screamed when the flat solid seared my fingers.

'' Oh beloved, let me get some butter for that. '' female parent rose delicately and searched the refrigerator. `` I thought the cake would be more delectable warm. ``

Unfaltering, I snagged a towel and finally rescued the bar. It was covered in sear whipped emollient. I despaired to the spot of tears as I set the smoke half circle of cake on the counter.

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

Paying her no mind, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal coating. To my immense relievo, the patty beneath was fine. `` 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 stick my tongue into her backtalk. My dick was gear up for daily round two.

Mother pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder. `` Really, honey you ought to conduct. 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 worse 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 truck ? '' She was holding her read/write head and teetering in the bed. Her only vesture were panties and a bra. The society frock lay on the trading floor next to the bed.

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

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

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

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

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

'' My mouth flavor like it sucked co ..., er pickles, all night long. I do n't desire anything. Make yourself something. '' Then easygoing, `` Maybe a shower is the right thing. ``

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

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

'' look better ? ``

'' A slight bit. ``

I opened the door and peered in.

'' Hey ! Do n't make out in ! ``

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her panties and was fumbling with her bra. Her soft tits hung off her dresser like two small Cucumis melo cantalupensis. No curiosity I was in lust with my mother. I associated close pap with anorexic and fat tits with either fleshiness or silicone. Mom 's were everlasting for me, her teat were also sized in dark easing. That was all I could reap before pulling back behind the door.

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

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

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

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

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

'' Oh, maybe just a collation. A little clams might shake up my appetite. I tell you every time you 're macabre that a little solid food save your metabolism firm. It 's clip to take my own advice. ``

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

For the low gear time, I would be able to measure how long the cake took to invoke it 's outcome. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my dick and shooting a few rope of cum through my female parent 's door, but I steeled myself for the effort.

It took exactly fifteen minutes.

'' Hank, you 'd better not be late for schooling again, or I 'll have to have a talk with your teacher ! Do n't forget to bring in your report card straight to me. I 'll hold a genius waiting for every'A'. ''

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

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

I fumbled for my pecker, pushing my gasp down my leg. I straightened up and gave her a goodness look at my rampant organ.

Just like the previous dark, she froze, this time cattle ranch bird of Jove across her bed, pegleg hanging over the side. I lifted her clothes above her thighs and revealed her white panties. I pulled them down off of her leg and leaped on top of her.

'' My good, 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 rooster where I thought puss was, and I thrust myself inside her.

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

'' Mom, you sure may be late for your period ! '' I answered with a holla and fucked hard dick into unwilling pussy. 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 trade good, female parent ! I can hardly wait to occupy your interior with my backed-up load of sperm ! ''

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

I was running, running my engorged shaft interior and out of the hole where I was born. My lust drove me like a sprinter. I could feel her bitch passage Menachem Begin to lubricate. Her affectionate folds massaged my hammer like no back talk ever could. Our frictioning tissues were soon bathed in mommy cunt succus and son son of a bitch pre-cum.

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

'' Yes, you go right ahead and collect your things. Do you need mommy to repulse you to schoolhouse ? '' I felt her pushing back with her pelvic girdle. snatch sucked pecker deeper with every knife thrust. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My mother suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My whole torso detected the firstly spasms of her own natural chemical reaction. She was getting prepare to squander too. If only I could make it death, but my long repressed lecherousness could be delayed no further.

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

My prick was bursting to industrial plant germ into its home of rootage. I could feel the wave of my orgasm rush up from my incision and down from my mind, 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 egg and blasted the walls of her cunt, forcing jism through the iris of her cervix.

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

Even as I continued to cum, I was tearing at the top of her apparel, 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 clip to be fooling around ! My fuzz, it must take care a-fright. What ever am I going to do with you ? ``

'' I think you should sop up on my tool. '' I stopped engorging my side on her bosom and crawled up over her bankrupt house frock. When my knees reached her shoulders, I fed wet meat into her bewildered afirmament. She sucked.

We spent full day worshiping my pecker. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was black and blue. I shot load after load of salty, hot emollient into her baby Divine until my glob went numb from the try and my dick could n't hold to a greater extent than an inch upright.

The future morning was the Saami, except she woke up with an even worse concern and had bruises all over her torso. I told her she needed to see a doctor. 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 unbalanced one, and she wrote an apology to be absent from shoal for a whole week.

The day after the first assault of my mother, I eased back my fervency and was more heedful about leaving tattletale Deutsche Mark. I did leave my day 's production of incestuous sperm cell in her belly.

We repeated our little play every day for the rest of the workweek. I did n't try to cheat myself. I cut the same sizing of cake slice each meter. It was going to run out eventually, and I did n't need her to be only half drugged. She had every rightfield to cart my ass off to incarcerate and dare my cellmates to plant life their seed inside me. Oh no !

When the last piece was consumed and consummated, I went back to a rigorous diet of whacking off but with ripe memories to cum over. It took a duad weeks before I could assume to deal 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 maintenance daybook at the kitchen tabular array. I could n't end myself. I set the platter on the riposte and walked up behind her. I reached around her shank to cup her knocker, wanting to knead them one last clock time.

Mother spun around, and she slapped my face, hard ! `` Hank ! We may dwell in a fairly loose thinking, modern earth, but everything has it 's demarcation. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the empty bar 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 glad that cake is finally gone. I do n't think it was very good for me. '' She patting the slight but steadily growing hump in her midsection. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that fearful 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 make 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 following yr, maybe I 'll take all sorts of secret in organic fertilizer chemistry. ''