commodity Golly, Mrs. Mommy !

by DiscipleN


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You know how it is, when it 's your natal day, and you 've unwrapped your presents, and you blow out the candles on your birthday patty, and everyone wishes you 'HAPPY natal day ! !', and they sing Sung and swat your butt, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to fuck her more than anything ? Well, I do n't care if you think that 's messed up, or that I should cut off my scrotum and sew it into a all-fired bridge player bag. When you consider what happened next, you would n't care either !

'' Dear, would you please fetch my hand bag ? '' mother smiled. She wiped a big glob of trounce cream from the box of her lip and licked her fingers. `` Just think, in a couple years, we 'll be able to lionise with something more potent than deep brown cake and ice cream. ``

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

'' I 'm so sword lily you took that house economics form, your patty is delicious ! '' She was kind not to mention that whipped emollient was an unusual frosting for deep brown bar. She continued to mine her purse. `` Here we go. '' Mother 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 cogitate, that I was out of the eyelet of ninety nine percent of my senior high school, like fundamentalist christians who are n't allowed to use the letter'x'in case they might write a frightful, three letter of the alphabet discussion with it ?

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

'' Mom, I got my license a class ago. '' Something Weird was going on with her. I peered confining at mom. She did n't front inebriate, and I had n't seen her drinkable anything except bottled water.

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

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

'' Do n't give me that aspect Loretta Young man. What if you got into an chance event ? The phratry Desoto would be ruined, and your sire would n't be able to permute to work. Why, he 'd have to ingest the bus like one of those inadequate, unfortunate person Negroes. ``

'Negroes ?'I pushed my chairman back and seriously considered shitting in my pants. Hell, black guys in the school 's computer baseball club would dish 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. `` justly mom. That 's a good one. ``

'' Hmmph ! You listen to me, youthful 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 secondment I expected Rod Serling to crawl out of the oven and give me the Heimleck maneuver.

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

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

This had to be part of some hush-hush plot to surprise 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 leave alone our bathroom. My mind drifted, trying to imagine my female parent 's house hips and quart sized tit, their nipples swollen, water sweeping soap suds down her grandiloquent, slim figure of speech. I grabbed my foul-up and gave it a hardy wanking, wondering if mother ever wanked her, as I imagined it, puffed out clitoris. It 's a enceinte way to get the day and walk time while the bathroom was occupied.

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

Yeah, I got plenty of kidding taking a Home Ec. year, but a match 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 suppose of nothing abnormal about my mom this morning.

I gave my mom a list of ingredients to blame up at the shop. She would encounter me at midday, and I 'd use the schoolhouse 's kitchen after my classes. I already had permit. 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 hour chateaubriant.

When she met me at noontide, she handed over an ice chest with all those scrumptious drinking chocolate cake constituent. She had n't spared any disbursement, epicure cocoa sauce, dutch cocoa powder, staff vine chocolate micro chip, constitutive flour, milk, nut, butter, whipping ointment, cane sugar, and genuine vanilla extract extract. Mom helped me lug the pectus to the schooling kitchen closet. It did n't fit my locker.

'' Good luck, 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 engine shop mechanic, but she employed kitchen tools with the same 'big wrench'attitude as her work tools.

There was zilch odd about mom at tiffin time. The first grief in my day came from an unexpected way. When the schooltime bell finally rang, I dashed to the kitchen eager to craft some plentiful cocoa cake. I could taste the tender goodness, smell the warm, intoxicating scent in my head. It would be a retentive wait while it baked.

It turned out to be a very hanker postponement. There, standing around the open closet and opened ice chest were six Guy from the hockey team. Their mouths were covered with drab sauce, and they pulled on the milk cartonful like they were partying at a kegger.

'' What the screw ! That was suppose to be my natal day 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. `` Happy birthday twit. 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 furious and lapidify with care.

Having finished raiding the 'good chip'in the ice pectus, they filed past me, laughing all the way out the room access. The last one cracked an egg over my heading. He had the nerve to excuse the obvious.

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

The threshold slammed behind me, my body quivering from their threatening subtext. Egg white dripped down my intrude. I think I had a fit then. The immediate afterward is a blur in my memory. I jumped up and hollered, cursing them. I cursed myself more. After washing my head in a cesspool I took armory of what was left : three ballock, whipping emollient, butter, and a sack of flour evidently used in a game of pinch. Even the vanilla extract bottle was missing. One of them must have been able to translate the word alcohol 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 adhesive friction. In the far corner of the Lapplander press I found a composition board box of old food stuffs.

to the highest degree schooling do n't offer cooking classes anymore, but Mammoth H.S. was as slow down to change as it 's mascot. The material I discovered must have been collected over the years, thing that normally would n't go bad. Baking washing soda, navy beans, various spices ( probably flavorless ), dried mushroom cloud, powdered lucre, and a few box mixes for stuffing, baking chicken, and flavoring squashy joes. At the very tush, I noticed an ancient looking logo for `` Aunty Rocker 's Devil 's nutrient bar ''. It was an old box mix for umber cake.

The date legal tender on it ... hell, there was n't a date stamp on it. The trademark date for the logotype said 1947. I did n't care. Two hr later, I returned household, ready to lionize my birthday. The solely matter that bugged me was, female parent did n't appear to acknowledge the difference between one of my mod oven wonders and this old-hat effigy to a woman 's seat in the family. She had two helpings. I carved a nail down gash but could n't immerse more than a few bites of it 's sawdust like consistency. I begged baker 's snacking as an alibi for being full phase of the moon. I did notice mom 's extra helping of lash ointment 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 way. I poisoned my own female parent with fossilise cake mix ! All those chemical substance stabiliser and texturizers and artificial flavors and colors must have combined into a hella-psychoactive drug ! I 'd meliorate address the doctor !

Right, and evidence her what ? mama 's acting like a sourpuss ? She 's delirious, under the influence of bad cake ? I 'd hate the see the doctor 's account for that pinch phone birdsong. All I could do was sit on my bed and cross my fingers, hoping her immune system of rules would fight off the chemicals.

A couple hours later, tedium and a genuine worry about my mother forced me out of my room. I had n't heard a peep from mom since she 'd grade me to leave. 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 oeuvre. '' She patted my knee and tried to see consoling.

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

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

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 times a day, I 'd find like my hormonal balance had begun it 's slow down diminution into middle-age.

I found myself staring at my mother 's mamilla. She still had n't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my pant, trying to advertise it flat behind the slide fastener. When she did n't bring placard, I took a good look. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a tip of a dark circle behind her bra ? My fingering became a light tapping. The cock in my pants had begun it 's death march. I knew I 'd make to bollocks a wad soon, or I 'd be in blue ball hell. mother did n't move a muscle.

I touched her arm, but she did n't react. Her skin felt terribly warm, as if she were running a feverishness. I placed the back of my hand to her brow. It was hot. I felt a light fret on her brow. I noticed her face glistening like a perfect, porcelain doll. I could n't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far side of her overlay breast. My cock did a dance in my knickers, but it did n't shoot. I was n't that close. I felt her move then. She looked up first and then at my encroach upon hand. Then her head swiveled back and her center met mine.

'' Oh dearest, I have a fearsome headache. Maybe we can do this another metre. '' 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 idea was flooded with unbelievable theme, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her room access close, I opened my pants and released the throbbing beast that commanded me. After several Thomas Hardy jerks on my prick, I shot fourteen tablespoon of sperm cell into the carpet.

The side by side morning, I was able-bodied to get into the shower first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother was n't anywhere below. Hell, she 's going to be belatedly for piece of work. I had almost forgotten the Night before. I raced upstairs to her sleeping room and pounded on the door !

'' Hhuhnn ? '' I heard a weak reply. I turned the knob and opened the room access just a crack. female parent was lying in bed, weapons system and legs askew, her partially opened skirt and shirt clung half on to her body. My pecker instantly responded. I stepped inside. `` Mom ? Are you okay ? ``

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

'' I 'll get you some ibuprofen. '' I rushed back to the toilet and pulled the bottle from a shelf. I filled a rinse shabu and brought them both to her. I had to feed the pill into her mouth and hold the glass up to her sassing. I sneaked another peek at her breast. There really were dark circle seeable through her bra.

'' My weapons system feel like short system of weights, and my tummy is fluttering. How a great deal did I drink endure night ? ``

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

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

'' You do n't recall ? ``

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

'' I-I had a g-great clip, mom. You just got a short carried away. '' I improvised. Some of those thought from hold out 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 worse for the patty she 'd eaten. She looked better and wagerer the more I looked at her.

'' Oh, I 'm going to be late for work. You 'd better scram to school. I 'll be ok. Just grab something quick for lunch, and I 'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my grownup boy. '' She smiled then, quite unaware that I was growing large lengths in the presence of her disarray clothing. I could even see a corner of her Edward White cotton panties. Only with great regret did I leave mom and race off to school. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to make for sure the eternal rest of the chocolate bar had been saved. It had.

I returned domicile, I swear, before the school day bell finished ringing. At first I thought I 'd entered the unseasonable house. A pelage rack I 'd never seen before greeted me at the door. There were pink throw pillows on the couch, and several neat wrangle of collector dinner party plates had been attached to the far wall. The place was spotless. We never lived in squalidness, but the best you could call mom 's and my lifestyle would be 'casual'. The furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic liner on the lounger and couch. Whoa, what kind of maid service had mom hired this calendar month ?

I entered in a bewildered haze, not paying attention to subtle sounds and odour emanating from the kitchen. My plate had shifted into the alternate property of some bleak and white sitcom ! I hung my rucksack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it fall to the floor. The front doorway remained clear behind me.

'' love, are you home ? '' mother sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the olfaction hit me.

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

'' It 's fish. Friday is fried Pisces the Fishes, think of ? ``

She must have been trying to earn deep fried sushi from rusted cans of tuna cat food. Mother appeared, smiling, at the threshold. A frilly dress with pleat and layers covered her from shoulder to ankle joint. It 's pastel leafy vegetable clashed with the animation elbow room 's deep purpleness, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a unanimous flock on my cheek.

'' It 's been a recollective 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 natal day coat 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 household cooking ? I wondered why he did n't cut a slash before he ran out this morning time. I figured it was clean game after that. ``

Hank ? one-third someone ? What was I, tuna Fish ? The smell was oppressing my ability to think clearly.

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

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

'' Here they are. '' She pulled out a brand new pair and fetched them over like a dog happy to greet its lord. `` I made you your favorite, heartfelt, Anguilla sucklandii casserole with American English high mallow. ``

Oh doodly-squat, she thought I was her husband ! ( Not my father, but some false icon of a husband. ) Oh screw. Crap ! What am I going to ... Oh ... Ping River ! ! ! Oh ?

Now my brain had something to facilitate agitate the nasty odor in the sign. That something was my raise turncock ! The Epiphany which hit me then convinced me that my closed book lust 's time had come. As the husband of a properly obedient wife, I could write my own scenarios and female parent would be my inspired actress.

'' Um, do n't rile with the booze, er, dear. I 'll just sit and think, while you finish in the kitchen. '' I took my berth in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my back and clung to every inch of reveal 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 cleavage, her full lips, her cheerful centre. I lost it then. My turncock could take only so much. I unzipped my pants and fished out it 's total length through my jockey shorts.

mother looked up and froze. What was this ?

If I had guessed right, sex was n't even a thought process in her head. It never existed before the sixties, at least in her judgment. How could she object to something that was morally neutral ? If holding up a condom was her entire lecture about human being sexuality, then she was begging for some sober study. word of Brobdingnagian wisdom returned to me from the former day, 'When you see an opportunity, take it .'

I took.

I took my mom 's surprised head with its outdoors mouth and planted it over my plastered bed tool !

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

I began using her pass to wank my pulsing hammer. It was evidence meter ! I was so ruttish and elated at my audacity, I did n't consider the thousand unpleasant and even dangerous ways my mother could react.

For the first ten or so throb of her typeface to my motherfucker, she remained frozen. She began to melt as I continued to fuck my pecker into her jaws. Her mouthpiece softened and her tongue began to lick the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my musket ball at replete insertion.

'' That 's right mommy, get a good taste of your boy 's stopcock. He 's had a tough day at schooling. '' I stopped acting like her imaginary number husband on function. I wanted to fuck my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her brain had been fried. My hips pushed Sir Thomas More cock into mother 's mouth.

I felt her school principal relocation on it 's own volition. Her plank mouth seared across my light beam quickening its pulse, my pulse. My hired man relaxed and there we were fully engaged in strong pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My bollock lurched and churned. Muscles 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 mouth. female parent 's mouth sucked and gulped, my full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until muscles failed and Lucille Ball ran dry. I held her caput and gasped for breathing space. I could hear air bellow out of her anterior naris. She could barely breathe.

pulling my softening cock from her mouth, I told her, `` You 're a mantrap, honey. '' It was the world-class corny line I could commemorate from 'My Three opera hat'or whatever that show was called.

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

'' dinner will be set in five transactions. '' She reassured me.

In five arcminute, my pecker would be set. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my lieu at the top dog of the table. The food for thought was horrendous ! Imagine tuna fish mixed with mayo stirred into half cooked pasta and dried peas. Now add a stratum of hokey yellow-bellied pavement across the top and you end up with discontinue utensils and no appetence. The putting green noggin on the English were Brown and maudlin. The white potato vine could give birth been used as a wheel block, and the milk, even the frigging milk tasted it like it had been pissed in.

'' What did you do with the Milk River, mom ? '' I asked as I ran to the sink to flush the residue down the sinkhole, gargle the field glass, and sate it. sump water tasted better than that milk.

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

'' When did you machinate supper. ``

'' Right after tiffin. Are you make for dessert ? ``

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

A urarthritis of smoke poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot sail 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. '' mother 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 coal whipped cream. I despaired to the point of snag as I set the smoking half circle of cake on the counter.

Mother reached me and began to cool my blistered finger with the butter.

Paying her no psyche, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal grey coating. To my immense relief, the bar beneath was fine. `` Um, mom ? ``

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

'' Let 's save the patty for tomorrow. '' I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to stick my tongue into her lip. My dick was ready for rhythm two.

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

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


-- -- -- rent -- -- --


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

'' Mom are you all right ? ``

'' Oh, Hank, did you get the issue of that truck ? '' She was holding her straits and teetering in the bed. Her only clothing were panty and a bra. The society dress lay on the trading floor next to the bed.

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

She swatted my custody away. `` I 'm not comme il faut sport, better exculpated out. How could I have gotten so wasted a second day in a row. Did I even go into work yesterday ? ``

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

'' Sick on a weekend ? crud. bettor stay clear, Hank. I would n't want you to charm this thing. There 's a rolls-royce turbofan engine on afterburner incinerating the inside of my skull.

shutdown the door to a discreet, hairline cleft, I called to her. `` How 's your appetence ? ``

'' My oral fissure flavor like it sucked co ..., er pickles, all night long. I do n't want anything. Make yourself something. '' Then subdued, `` Maybe a shower is the right affair. ``

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 door and knocked.

'' Feel better ? ``

'' A little bit. ``

I opened the doorway and peered in.

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

There was my mom. She 'd just put on her pantie and was fumbling with her bra. Her soft breast hung off her chest like two small cantaloupe vine. No wonder I was in lust with my mother. I associated boney bosom with anorectic and fat tits with either obesity or silicone polymer. Mom 's were everlasting for me, her nipples were also sized in dark easing. That was all I could glean before pulling back behind the door.

My pecker raged to touch them. `` Hey mom, maybe a flying bit before you begin your day. '' Without looking inside again, I set down on the rug, the discus I had been carrying and slid it through the orifice. I placed a clean glass of milk, from a new carton, just inside the door.

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

'' Yeah, mom, I even made fresh lather cream. The archetype ointment did n't keep very well. '' I had more clobber waiting for her, inside my pants.

'' You did n't have got to problem yourself. My tummy is still sort of queazy. ``

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

'' Oh, maybe just a bite. A little sugar might stimulate my appetite. I tell you every time you 're disgusted that a lilliputian food keeps your metabolism potent. It 's clip to take my own advice. ``

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

For the first metre, I would be able to measure how long the patty took to invoke it 's effect. I doubted I could hold off very long without grabbing my shaft and shooting a few ropes of cum through my mother 's threshold, 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 have to bear a talk with your teacher ! Do n't forget to bring your report straight to me. I 'll take in a wizard waiting for every'A'. ''

It was all I needed to get word. She was back to living a five day hebdomad. I rushed inside the bedchamber. She stood radiant in her Amytal, pink flower bespeckled, house wearing apparel. Even her tomentum had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the middle of her elbow room and drove her back down upon the bed.

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

I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pants down my branch. I straightened up and gave her a trade good facial expression at my rearing organ.

Just like the previous night, she froze, this time cattle farm eagle across her bed, legs dangling over the side of meat. I lifted her garb above her thighs and revealed her white panties. I pulled them down off of her branch and leaped on top of her.

'' My good, 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 cunt was, and I thrust myself inside her.

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

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

'' Oohh, it 's so honorable, mother ! I can hardly wait to sate your inside with my backed-up load of sperm ! ''

'' That 's okey, dearest. I 'll houseclean up the mess in the kitchen. You just run along. ``

I was running, running my engorged motherfucker inside and out of the maw where I was born. My lust drove me like a sprinter. I could find her cunt passage Begin to lubricate. Her warm crimp massaged my cock like no mouth ever could. Our frictioning tissue paper were soon bathed in mommy cunt juices and son prick pre-cum.

'' This is not bad mom ! I 'm fucking you so great ! '' I could n't consider it. I was raping my own mother, and she did n't have a clew about what I was doing to her. Whatever that bar had, it was better than any particular date rape drug I 'd ever heard of. My cock plunged with glee. My body was already sweating and twitching. My nervousness ramped up their pleasure force-out faster than ever.

'' Yes, you go right ahead and collect your things. Do you need momma to drive you to school ? '' I felt her pushing back with her hips. slit sucked turncock deeper with every stab. `` Oh dear, what 's that ? '' My mother suddenly cried out. Her son knew before she did.

My hale dead body detected the offset spasm of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to blow too. If only I could make it last, but my retentive repressed lusts could be delayed no further.

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

My rooster was bursting to flora seminal fluid into its place of root. I could feel the wave of my orgasm hasten up from my whoreson and down from my wit, filling my arms and legs and exploding out from my center.

'' I 'm cumming, mom, I 'm UUUNNNNGGGGHHHH ! ! ! COMMMING ! ! ! ! '' My cum rushed out from my balls and blasted the wall of her cunt, forcing jism through the iris of her cervix uteri.

'' Huh-HUH, UUUHHHGGG, 'urry up, son ! ! ! '' She screamed then. I could finger her snatch contracting and sucking each saccade of incestuous emollient into her womb. `` We do n't need to be LAAAAHHHH-ate ! '' Her arms wrapped around me and hugged me difficult 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 of her knocker. I sucked on them like a mad motherfucker.

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

'' I think you should suck on my cock. '' I stopped engorging my face on her mammilla and crawled up over her ruined house dress. When my knees reached her shoulders, I fed wet kernel into her bewilder afirmament. She sucked.

We spent entire day worshiping my cock. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was black and drear. I shot load after load of salty, hot ointment into her baby maker until my egg went numb from the effort and my cock could n't agree Sir Thomas More than an inch upright.

The next morning was the same, except she woke up with an even worse cephalalgia and had contusion all over her body. I told her she needed to see a physician. I lied to her about an designation, 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 sick one, and she wrote an excuse to be wanting from schooling for a whole week.

The day after the first rapine of my mother, I eased back my elan and was more measured about leaving telltale cross. I did entrust my day 's production of incestuous sperm cell in her belly.

We repeated our little gambling every day for the quietus of the hebdomad. I did n't try to wander myself. I cut the Saame size of cake slicing each fourth dimension. It was going to run out eventually, and I did n't want her to be only half drugged. She had every right to cart my ass off to put away and presume my cellmates to plant their seed inside me. Oh no !

When the concluding slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a rigid diet of whacking off but with considerably computer memory to cum over. It took a couple weeks before I could abide to contract the cake phonograph recording out of the fridge. ( I told you our business firm was n't the tidiest. )

mother was writing something in her prole 's maintenance journal at the kitchen board. I could n't break off myself. I set the disk on the rejoinder and walked up behind her. I reached around her waist to cup her breast, wanting to rub down them one last time.

female parent spun around, and she slapped my face, hard ! `` Hank ! We may live in a fairly free thinking, modern world, but everything has it 's limit. '' She scolded me sternly. That 's when I knew it was over. I took the abandon bar shell to the sink. Mother shook her pass. She probably felt bad about having to oppose so harshly.

'' I 'm disconsolate to say it, Hank, but I 'm happy that cake is finally gone. I do n't think it was very right for me. '' She patting the fragile but steadily growing protrusion in her midriff. `` I thought I 'd recovered from that terrible 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 obliterate them far in the back of the Deepfreeze. `` Who knows mom ? When I begin college side by side class, maybe I 'll check all sorts of secrets in organic chemistry. ''