Three of a Kind

"Mum," he said, his voice dripping with whimsical irony, "It's only natural that a guy would have sex with his sister." My son could sometimes be such a little fucker. He wasn't saying it like he was unsure of its moral implications or as an embarrassed plea for someone who had been caught in flagrante delicto. No, my son was sarcastically offering this ready explanation as a parent would hold a spoonful of medicine to a recalcitrant child. Essentially, he was telling me, "Just swallow this bullshit and you'll be better-off." He simply expected me to accept his perverted antics and carry-on with our daily routine.

"No, Danny," I countered. I was stunned and confused, that he would suggest this deviant course of action as entirely natural, and that he would spring it on me, seemingly out of the blue. "Children sometimes explore each other's physical differences when they are growing-up but you are eighteen years old, and your sister is twenty-one." My voice came out as a shrieking tirade, "you don't 'play doctor' with your own sister, at your age!" I was exasperated and more than slightly inebriated, as we had been sitting on the back porch on this hot summer's evening, cooling ourselves with beer and wine. I needed to convince myself that we were seriously debating this issue. "Are you freely admitting that you and your sister are having sex?" I was completely unnerved. He only flashed his 100-watt smile and took a big gulp of his beer.

"Look," he calmy began his absurd monologue, "Sex is sex. Most women object to routine sexual encounters because they might be labeled as 'easy' or be disregarded as a one-nighter. And they won't even admit that they enjoy being brought to orgasm. They like sex..."

"Who doesn't?" I hastily and perhaps, stupidly blurted-out. I wished at this moment that I could just crawl into a hole and hide.

"You see, as much as we've been telling you, that you should just hook-up with someone and have a blast, you defiantly abstain from any sexual relief or the notion of having a good time with no strings attached." I couldn't believe my ears. Danny continued, "It's so much easier to relax when you're with someone that you know and trust. Plus, you don't have to sit through useless movies or uncomfortable dinners, or worry that what you do, will end-up on the internet, you can just undress and have fun." His arguments had all of the elements of fallacious and deceptive merit that might sound convincing to anyone who wasn't truly listening. "Everybody needs to be touched and made to feel wanted, that is what sex delivers." Danny knew electronics, but he should have opted for sophistry.

"No Danny, that is what 'love' is for. And you can't fall in love with your sister." Now, being faced with an awful truth, I tried my best to make him see reason and to possibly atone for his sins. "Sex gets weird when the people aren't in love, and as your mother, I never wished to place either of you in an awkward position, just due to my horniness." I was not exactly Perry Mason, myself.

"Oh, so atleast you'll finally admit that you are horny." He was almost giddy with glee. And whether he intended for me to notice or not, he rather conspicuously adjusted his tight jean shorts, to rearrange the growing bulge at his pelvis. Our combined tone and the fact that we had begun to simply blather past one another, was ample reason to curtail this drunken talk. rising from my lounge chair, I was a little dizzy. I can't say if it was from the grape juice or due to this corrupt conversation.

We hastily moved inside so that the neighbors wouldn't hear us shouting and especially so that none of the neighbors would discover the basis for our budding argument. My name is Kathryn, close friends and family members know me as Katie. I am a 38-year-old widowed mother of two. Christi the eldest, then my son. We are of Middle European descent and have the dark hair and swarthy complexion of the Mediterranean. I'm about 5'7", and Christi an inch or so taller. I have a 36C bust while Christi is the same size but at a full D cup. My hips are wider due to the kids, but my daughter is pleasantly round and has an out-going personality to match. We both tend towards excessive curviness, so we need to watch our diets but if I may say, we can each fill-out a slinky outfit or a form-fitting bikini, so that all eyes turn our way.

Danny is the one who inherited all of his father's genes. He has the Irish look, tall, lanky and redhaired with freckles. He stands about 6'4" and from sports and weight-training, he carries over 230 pounds with broad shoulders and a deep chest. The subject of our lurid conversation started when I casually enquired about, he and his sister stumbling home late last night and then finding that they both collapsed and slept together in his bed. They were both basically good kids, but I remember the pitfalls of being young so, I was ready to deliver the usual "drinking and driving" speech when I was upended by his suspicious statement.

I was never intending to imply that they might have an incestuous relationship, nor did it ever even cross my mind, so I was taken completely by surprise. Having nearly finished a bottle of white wine, while sitting in the hot sun, had already made me woozy. Plus, with the inconvenient fact that my own body had not been touched by strange hands in over four years, any mention of sex, especially ones that include elements of incest and deviance, causes a predictable warm sensation and tingling shiver to roil the yearning fluids, bottled-up in my squirming vagina.

Then to notice that my eighteen-year-old son would so brazenly fondle and poke at his rapidly stirring package, while projecting such a leering and lecherous grin at his own mother, was doubly unsettling. An immediate visual darted to the front of my repressed mind, of just what exactly the engorged and potent cock of a young, large man would look like. His father was well-endowed in that department, and I greatly missed the opportunity of just rolling over in bed and being welcomed by such an abundant source of pleasure and possibilities. I was that age when I had been introduced to the erotic delight that such a sturdy cock could provide, and it's been many lonely nights since I've been as blessed.

Since the image of such a sensual and illicit object would not so easily subside, the other senses in my warped brain wanted to share their gifts. All that I could picture was a gigantic obelisk of throbbing proportions that could be mine, if I would only take the next step. The naughty scenario kept percolating in my head. I suddenly wanted to feel a warm, pulsing cock in my grip and rub it against my cheek. And then I wondered how it would taste as my tongue slowly slid up and around its veiny length. My mouth filled with saliva and I struggled to swallow it, feeling as though I had done something obscene. I shivered and felt a twinge of excitement, mixed with a considerable quantity of regret, racing through my nervous system. There was an unseemly heat rising in the narrow gap between my thighs and a sticky liquid was oozing slowly from my twitching pussy.

Seeing me unsteady and flushed from a bit too much alcohol and this outrageous utterance, Danny ushered me to the couch and quickly brought a cool cloth for my head and incidentally, a fresh bottle of wine. I liberally put each to ready use. Then my mind started working in a devilish pattern. Blatant images that I couldn't sweep away, started to circulate in my 80-proof brain. I was wet from head to toe, and this was no mere perspiration. My body itched and trembled.

I hate to admit it but having seen my daughter in various states of nudity over the years, these new and intrusive sexual depictions of her curvaceous torso along with my son's lascivious satyriasis, engaging in steamy acts of debauchery danced through my warped brain. My body was warm and moist, my nipples emerging perky and stiffened under my tight, practically see-through top and my breath was coming in shallow gasps from the illicit apparitions haunting my imagination. Danny was quick to loosen my flimsy top and bathe my neck and shoulders with cool water and I calmed down and eventually slid easily into his open arms as we eased back into the sofa cushions. I just needed to rest my tired eyes and let my spinning head lay back against something soft.

His long sturdy legs were propped on the coffee table, allowing me to rest my own tanned stems on top of his. He wore only leather sandals on his size twelve feet and the white legs, dotted with freckles and lined with reddish hair, led up to cut-off jean shorts, while my shaken body balanced on his bare chest. I slipped off the wedged slippers revealing my hot-pink painted toes and my glistening, dark thighs, revealing the probably six square inches of the lighter pink material of my swim bottoms. My only thought on this late-afternoon, had been to lay-out and catch some of the tanning rays of the evening mid-summer sun, so the skimpy, almost transparent, woven fabric of my bathing suit should not have come into play. I wore a loose sleeveless, cottony coverup over the stretchy pink bra top.

By now, the light shirt had slid down my arms and was effectively bunched under my butt. He artfully slipped it away, bringing my bikini-clad bottom intouch with his denim-covered cock. The cool water funneling from my neck and into the valley formed by my tightly-squeezed cleavage, flowed freely to the waistband of my undies, where it wicked into the fabric and joined with the fluids that were already moistening my "Y" due to the brief libidinal conversation of a moment ago. I was laying against my son's barrel chest and as he spoke softly into my ear, his whiskery chin scraped on my shoulder. The obvious erection tenting his shorts was now massaging my lumbar spine. The temperature in the room was rising and my heart-rate kept pace with it. A thought occurred to me that now would be a good time to make my exit, but I couldn't think of how to do it without crudely calling attention to his mountainous hard-on. This vague thought of wanting to escape would be the last of its kind, on this notoriously lewd evening.

I was trying not to squirm as I felt the shudder of a long-lost sensation of close-body contact with a warm, strong man and his friendly arms rubbing the gooseflesh of my trembling frame. Not to mention that as my nervous frame squirmed, the vibrations from his firm shaft, sliding up and down my moistened, bare flesh was sending ripples of electricity from my overheated cunt to all of my extremities. From his vantage, behind and slightly above me, he could hardly help but to notice my engorged nipples poking little tent-tops on my pink bra and the darker red gash that was like an arrow, flowing down the gusset of my damp undies.

I realized that I was blushing and the warm glow on my cheeks would be a dead giveaway, even with my darkened complexion, so I studiously avoided his darting eyes. I also noticed and appreciated that his tender lips were brushing against my ear and neck as he softly spoke, punctuated by small, delicate kisses that a son should not be applying to his mother's nearly naked anatomy. But that just demanded that my attention be drawn down the length of my rapidly shivering frame, and to be directed to my perky nipples that also could not be misinterpreted. And there is no possible way to convince your body to not be aroused or to not think inappropriate and indecent thoughts when every nerve ending in your trembling torso is screaming for seduction.

My mind was losing the battle that my body had already forfeited. "Tell me again, Danny, what exactly are you talking about?" I whispered in a breathy, hungry voice, eager for more intimate details while trying with my final bit of moral discipline, to restrain my passion and remember that I was his mom. "You didn't really have sex with your sister, did you?" I don't know why I even asked such a ridiculous question, since nobody would make a joke to their mother, about something so crude and perverted. But somewhere, locked away in my psyche and kicking at the door to get out, was the lascivious desire to hear more of the illicit interactions that are attached to such an incestuous situation. And a sneaking desire to match-up the perverse images that were swirling around my confused skull, with the lewd narration that I'm certain that my teenage son would provide, as he seemed so profoundly proud to announce this sinful sexual conquest of his.

The lurid images overwhelmed my flustered mind. I could "see" my daughter's lusty body; the olive-hued flesh taut and rippling with her every movement, her slinky form intertwined with the pale but muscular torso of my bawdy son, those rounded tits wobbling and jiggling on her chest, the pointy nipples begging to be squeezed and twisted, her thick thighs spread as she lowers her dripping pelvis to the boldly, daunting spear of her brother's swollen prick. And the lovely face topped with mountains of rich, dark hair. As I search her anticipatory countenance, I am startled to discover my own reflection, deep in the throes of lustful deceit.

My swollen pussy-lips could "feel" the intrusion of his massive tool, slowly opening it to accept his magnificent gift and then steadily boring into my tight little cunt.

My sore eyes were pleasantly closed but my vivid imagination was in overdrive. It probably all happened in the blink of an eye, but I was absorbed in the pangs of this raunchy daydream. It just all seemed so seductive and a bit tawdry, but my juices were flowing, and I was caught in the rapture of its incestuous web. Yes, I needed to be touched, and my tired, passionate body was writhing in ecstasy. My hips were slowly humping his leg and my bathing suit was unseemly damp. In my fantasy, this was a mere stranger with a youthful vitality and a frame honed by hard work. He expertly seduced me until I was a slave to his touch. My horny demeanor never considered that he was my son. My right hand-almost with a mind of its own- slowly moved down my moistened belly and with just a hesitant fraction of a second, began a slow, steady grinding of my pubic mound.

The fog of this ethereal plane of seduction was gradually lifting, releasing me from the freedom of subconscious desire, where my sexual satisfaction was the main goal. In its place, I returned to an exhaustive reality of shame, alcohol and incest. But there was a moment... For a fleeting moment, it felt wonderful and erotically naughty, to be rubbing the tender flesh of my aching vaginal region, but the wet clingy fabric of my soaked bottoms, was inhibiting the satisfaction.

My nasty little daydream held me in its alluring grip. I was half-awake but in a delightful haze. I vaguely understood that my routinely cloistered social life had taken a serious toll on my sexual vigor and that, nearing the completion of my fourth decade, my "love life" had been reduced to virtually once-weekly masturbation in my darkened bedroom after the kids had gone to sleep. Here now, my hungry body was in a peaceful trance, not entirely asleep but fallen under a spell of voluptuous, carnal desire. Regardless of the present condition, I needed to scratch that sexual itch that so tormented my lusty body and had my volcanic pussy, screaming for relief. The consequences of my behavior would be felt for years to come.

I tremulously eased my fingers under the hem of my dank suit, shimmying the flimsy material down my thighs and bringing my fingertips to the dewy outer lips of my tingling labia. For the hygiene and grace, my jet-black pubic curls had been tightly shaved into a thin triangle, obscenely directing attention towards my lonely cunt. I felt "dirty" and extremely aroused as my hand wedged under the warm, wet cottony fabric, knowing in my mind that I needed to consciously lift my butt from the cushions, allowing my bathing suit to slide down my legs, and yet I did just that.

In my living room; during the early evening hours and most-importantly, forgetting or ignoring that my eighteen-year-old son, was alarmingly right by my side, I stripped-off my flimsy bottoms and tugged the moist panties over my knee, allowing me to spread my legs, feeling the cool breeze rush over the gaping furnace that was my aching pussy. My lithe fingers combed knowingly, through the wiry curls of my dark, sticky landing strip. They settled upon the swollen little knob which was stretching and searching for helpful hands, to usher it through the boiling point. A series of jolts shot through me and a warm glow enveloped my trembling frame, I felt warm and comforted, surrounded by erotic forces.

Two fingers circled the ticklish lump of reddened flesh that protruded from its protective hood, and I swirled the pert nub until I experienced that familiar "zing" that signaled that the target was achieved. A few more spirals and a bit more pressure, and I would experience that sensual release and cosmic explosion that I've only known one or two times in many years. I shivered and shuddered, finally awakening with a start, from my erotic interlude. I was surprised and embarrassed when my eyes focused on the furniture and decor of our living room. Moreso, when I fully realized that I was not alone.

Danny had been listening and almost directing the low moans and guttural purring sounds mingling with my halting breaths. Long, strong arms that had been around my shoulders as I eased-off into my fantasy world, had traveled down my torso and took hold of my precious assets. His skillful hands had traced the mounds and folds of my tender flesh in the same way that a concert pianist can make beautiful music from 88 ivory keys. While I was writhing and whimpering in my own private illusion, he had artfully and soothingly lifted the cups of my bikini-top, over the swaying mounds of my bouncing breasts, then untied the strings and removed the obtrusive restraints from my swaying bosom. Danny's large hands had been gently massaging my full globes, an unconscious tease that further enhanced my delusion, while I was succumbing to the ecstasy of erotic masturbation. My son was twiddling the perky nipples and weighing the soft undersides of my pliant tits. He held my wobbling boobs as if they were water balloons, kneading and pinching the generous melons like ripe fruit. Only his father, had ever touched me in this manner and he had advantageously inherited that sensual caress.

Awakening from this spiritual bliss, was like Dorothy finding herself plunked down in Oz. Everything was swirling around me and slowly- very slowly- coming back to a strange sense of reality. I discovered myself nearly naked, my bra tossed aside and my saturated bottoms down past my knees and barely clinging to one dainty foot. I was seated in a warm wet puddle of my own sticky fluids and my quivering frame was dewy with perspiration. My digits were wet and shiny from the agitation to my steamy pussy, and I was squirming and moaning like a harlot.

Danny had become aware of my startled reemergence to wakefulness, and I think that he enjoyed his emerging carnal dominance even more, now that I began to fully realize its implications. When I studied his face, now fully realizing my embarrassment and the odd role-change that was taking place in our family dynamic, I spied a leering and commanding smirk crossing his normally doting countenance. My son's left hand casually cupped my tender breast as if he owned it and his right hand was now on top of my own, not allowing my suddenly ashamed hand to leave the hot confines of my moist cunt. His hand weighed on mine, deftly pressing my fingers into the slippery folds of my labia and with his palm, applying direct effortless compression on my sensitive clit. I could have pulled my hand away with very little labor but it remained tucked into the confined, molten cavern as Danny led me through the perverse motions. He was- in effect- asking me to play with my pussy, openly and infront of him and I was rewarding him with my passion. I conceived at that moment that Danny had become a master manipulator at the sexual arts and that I had apparently followed my daughter, under his unique spell.

My squirming body- a second ago, warm and moist with my seductive fantasy- now shivered with dread, as the cold reality of being sexually groped by my own son, and worse, burning with a fierce hunger for it. My aching form was stretched naked, practically across his lap, and allowing him unnatural and inconvenient access to my humiliated anatomy. "Shocked," doesn't nearly describe my reaction to observing and now, fully comprehending the situation, of laying naked and sprawled across my son's beefy chest, allowing him to conduct and partake, as I played with my pussy and squirmed in ecstasy, to the utter delight of the both of us. At this point, I needed to re-establish my position in this sensual hierarchy, that to my total dismay, was spinning weirdly out of control.

"My Gawd," I muttered to myself as the entire scope of this wicked transaction was coming into view. "I was actually playing with my pussy and thinking about my son fucking my daughter," the absurdity of the situation was blinding me with cognitive dissonance. "I'm laying here on the living room couch, totally naked and squirming in the warm, sticky juices of my aching cunt. How could I possibly have let this happen?" It didn't make sense that I could be in this situation, unless... "Did I want this to happen? Did I want my son to see me like this? Was I seducing him? Am I jealous of my own daughter?" All of these horrific thoughts flooded my brain at one time. Nothing made sense or even calmed my mind. One thing that just kept kicking me in the side of the head, was "Why am I still here? Get-up and run away, if you really don't want this!" I screamed to myself. And here I remain.

He guided the tips of my two digits to curl under the roof of my wet pussy and then rub that tender mystery spot with just the right pressure and persistence, bringing the stirred pot to a boil, and anticipating the electric moment that was like a bomb going off in my trembling vagina. He knew my anatomy better than I knew myself. With his "helpful" hand lending assistance to my wicked reverie, my own two slippery digits touched the spark to the fuel, and before I could even reason with him, (if such a justification even existed,) the earth-shattering, toe-curling climax hit my yearning crotch as if my swollen clit had been inserted into an electrical outlet.

I shook and shrieked like I was on a roller coaster, and in a way, I was. I understood that the illicit deed taking hold of my jittery frame was due to the taboo practice of incest, and that I could never justifiably assert that I had been coerced or tricked in any way. Even then, I could have slapped his face, told him to leave or given him "the look" that an angry mom routinely uses to express her solemn displeasure or disappointment. I am ashamed to admit that accompanied by a chorus of low moans and high-pitched yelps, I merely thrashed and wriggled beside him, caught in the bewildering throes of ecstasy and cuddled even deeper against his warm, strong body.

Danny cradled me in his big arms and he surprisingly lowered his face to my chest and kissed and bit at my pert nipples. I almost swooned at this seductive little coup to wholly capture my delicate psyche. All semblance of normalcy and morality was shattered. It should have been seen as an outrageous affront on the person of his mother, yet I felt it as my body yielding to the temptation of a much more dominant partner in an utterly perverted and depraved sexual liaison. He could show me more than I ever would have imagined about stretching the limits of my sexual horizons, and I generously reasoned to my haunted nature, that since I was already naked and dripping wet...

At that minute, our roles in this awkward little performance took a dramatic- and not entirely unwanted- turn toward the deviant side of a very illegitimate affair. My moral standing was hanging-on by a mere thread and that tenuous string was being stretched to the limit. I was still his mother ofcourse, but that relationship now, became the basis for an extremely unethical and immoral exhibition of sexual debauchery that I would be forced to endure and unfortunately, unable to genuinely decline.

Does the fact that this nasty little tryst is so taboo, that it couldn't even be mentioned in the strictest confidence, to your most intimate friend, make it seem so exciting and daring? My body ripples with debauched desire. This is way beyond having an affair with a married man, or even seducing a priest, this is Oedipal-class perversion, the kind of coupling that leads towards poking your eyes out. We were about to step into well-defined roles in our cosmic sexual degradation. I was about to surrender the plundering of my own body to the corrupted influence of my son's sex appeal. I knew that this couldn't turn-out right.

I was still physically shaking and breathing hard while my head was just catching-up to the whirlwind of emotions flooding my brain. My son gently grabbed my arms and laid me back on the sofa, smoothing my brunette mane around my confused face, and still kissing the tips of both breasts, then starting a slow, wet, warm descent down my shivering body to what I could only hope, would be his sweet arrival at my burning triangle of lust. With his soft lips silently mouthing the letters of the alphabet, he tickled my clit and teased my labia, forcing me to ceaselessly squirm on the cushions and to literally plead with him to lay his flat tongue against my swollen nub and bring me to the heights of ecstasy that only his masterful oral performance could guarantee.

I felt the curled tip of his tongue striking at the tender flesh of my clit, sending shockwaves of energy throughout my nervous system and causing me to jerk and shimmy, then at its most tingling point, my insides let go. Once again, and in the course of just a few minutes, I'd experienced two of the most tremendous and glass-rattling orgasms that I've ever known and I have my very own son to thank for them. I fell back limp and at his mercy. I noticed, but in an outer body-like episode, that my legs were being spread and a soft pillow was placed under my undulating back side, then feeling as though my head weighed fifty pounds, I could only direct my big brown eyes towards my small pink toes.

Blocking my view, was the solid and sensual physique of my son, and my eyes were immediately drawn to his midsection. There, standing-out among the mass of scarlet curls and a relief map of straining abdominal muscles, I spied a huge, solid lance as long as my arm and thick around as my wrist. I could only utter gurgling noises and shake my head side-to-side as he easily but forcibly, buried seven inches of encroaching gratification in my starving cunt. My undulating pussy was propped-up on a pillow, as if it were an entree at the master's feast. I could only stare in amazement as he plunged his firm tool inside of my fiery furnace.

I was allowing and practically inviting this young man- my son- to defile and degrade his own mother's inviolable cunt. Not even one of my filthiest wet dreams had anticipated an arrangement such as this. Even today, when we stepped onto the balcony to catch some rays and have a cocktail, it never entered my mind that in the next hour, I would permit and encourage my son to fuck his mom. This was the red line that couldn't be crossed and yet, I could only twist my body and squeeze his large biceps, allowing every millimeter of his sturdy cock to enter and plunder my moist cavern. The two previous orgasms had conveniently lubricated the tight package and the scintillating notion that his magnificent appendage would triple the sensation produced by his tongue, was enough to relieve my nervous anticipation and to welcome his raunchy advances.

He plunged deep and fast into my narrow passage, the veiny column of sexual delight rapidly sliding against the slickened walls of my horny pussy. He bottomed-out when his plum-sized balls bumped my swollen outer lips and the helmeted dome slammed my cervix. The sound of wet flesh routinely slamming against another warm body, will always be the sound-track of my initial incestuous tryst with my son.

My breath was caught in my throat and my body was being pressed towards the arm cushions of the sloppy, dank couch. I let loose sounds, that even I had never heard before and tossed to all sides as he continued to ram his turgid tool inside of me. I could barely make legible noises and really, I had nothing intelligent to offer, other than whispered admiration and encouragement for his seductive skills. I was in heaven, as I almost needed to reconsider whether heaven would allow me to enter the Pearly Gates, after allowing my son to so thoroughly suck and fuck me.

"Jeezus," I shrieked, "I never imagined that I could feel this way. Fuck me, Danny. Fuck me now." I begged him like a whore. I heard my screams echoing off the walls and saw the fiendish, ogling stare in his hungry blue eyes as his throbbing, tumescent ram slammed into my yearning hole. "Do you want me? Is this what you want?... To fuck your mother like a slut?" Tears welled-up in my chocolaty eyes as I debated whether I was in heaven or hell. I was practically pleading with him to apologize for this perverted and illicit scene of utter debauchery and shame; and silently pull his huge cock out of my horny cunt and slip off of my wriggling torso, allowing me to lay here in this debased position and wallow in my bitter shame. Please Danny, I thought to myself, as my body recoiled from his repeated thrusts, do the right thing and relieve me of this tension, because I know that I can't let you go. "Please son, I've got to know."

"I want to fuck you mom. Yes, this is what I want. I want your pussy for my own, and I want to fuck you whenever I get the urge." He was looking directly into my wide brown orbs, as my head repeatedly slid up the cushions and my hips bounced back and forth as I absorbed the pile-driving force of his seven-inch column of steely pleasure. Looking down the length of my supinely supple body, I glimpsed my bouncing boobs doing rhythmic figure-eights on my sweaty torso, as Danny seesawed into me. Further down, I spied my sparce black pussy hair, obscenely balanced on a cushion as if an offering to the god of debauchery. And I watched awestruck and obedient, as he lifted my legs to his shoulders and grabbed hold of my tits, then slammed his huge organ again, and again, into my tightly-stretched canal. "Tell me that you want it, mom." He never stopped his crude fucking, sending jolts of extreme delight mixed with equal parts of mortifying guilt rippling through my system. "Say it, tell me that you want it. I want to hear you tell me, that you want me to fuck you. Tell me that you'll be my little fuck-doll, and that you'll be mine, whenever I want you."

In the course of mere minutes, even though in my mind, it seemed like days had passed, my son exerted his control over me and wanted me to admit to him, that I would become his private and personal little "fuck meat." And I couldn't fight him off. Maybe it was due to my head being repeatedly ricochetted off the arm of the couch, but I was in no condition to deny him anything. I was in full-surrender mode. I took a deep breath- in between the constant breathless pounding being received by my pussy- and worked-over in my lurid imagination what I was about to commit myself to. "How could I say It?" I reasoned, "How could I not?" The words stuck in my throat but also were on the tip of my tongue. I knew that this was the line that dared not be crossed. Then I felt his cock hit the back of my cervix and I saw stars. All energy drained from my body with the eruption of another amazing orgasm, that shook me for five solid minutes and turned my insides to mush.

He slumped on top of my sweaty body, fortunately holding himself up on his elbows or he would have crushed me. But it felt so good to have a strong man with a big cock, want to fuck me and own me and give me this kind of excitement and a secret, sensual, sensation of incestuous, dominant sex that would be available by simply entering the room. "Yes Danny, I want it! I want you. Tell me what to say, what to do, how to act. I'm yours. I need it so badly. Take me please. Just don't hurt me and keep our secret, and I'm yours." I blurted-out everything that I was thinking. I offered him everything that I had. "Please don't stop fucking me, I'm yours, and I promise that I'll do whatever you want."

He only smiled and with one more great thrust and a series of primal grunts, shot the last few ounces of his warm, creamy seed into the depths of my enslaved cunt. His terrific pushing and slamming slowed to a steady rhythm, then a final gentle ending. His long tool slid out of my foaming, reddened channel. Danny was sweating profusely and his pale body was blotchy with red patches. His heavy breathing eventually returned to near-normal but that gleam in his cobalt eyes never dimmed.

He looked me over like I was meat on a hook, there for his sampling. He kissed my tits again, not knowing that this little extra touch of fulfillment, endeared me to him, and took a second to slowly ease down my trembling frame and lick a wet path toward my pubic ridge. Every kiss on my jittery frame sent skyrockets soaring to my clit. I held my breath, watching, waiting, hoping. He eased his long, shiny cock from my sated cavern as he pulled back, with his tender lips replacing his swollen organ. I sensed his warm breath at my vagina and the tingle of his whiskers scraping the pinkened flesh of my clitoral hood. I couldn't take any more. The area was tingling to the touch and I had reached historic levels of climax more in three minutes than in the previous three years. Already shaking and anticipating the sizzle, I grabbed his head. "Please honey, you'll kill me. I love it and I want it but you've got to let me rest. I'm not eighteen. This is the most action and the best sex that I've had in years. I want it and I'll do what you want, but take it slow with me, please."

He smiled like the "cat that swallowed the canary." I had just admitted my defeat and offered my complete subservience. It was over, he was now incharge and I would be his sexual slave. Funny thing- maybe not so funny- is that I wasn't sorry. How or when do you ever admit to yourself that you will cede your authority or the control over your body, to someone else, especially your son!?! But this could not have been any better. I swear that I didn't plan this and I didn't intentionally seduce him, infact I believe that he seduced me. But he did it well and I want more. I offered myself to him and I'm willing and ready to comply with his wishes. I had never even thought of an S&M relationship, certainly not one involving my son. There was no disputing that it was incest and it went against every fiber of my being. But that's what made it so fuck'n hot! I reassured myself that he wouldn't tell anyone, afterall, how do you explain that you're fucking your mom? I certainly wouldn't say a thing. But my son wants me and I need him.

I was listening to these seedy voices in my head pronounce every vile syllable of the subjugation that I just proffered and wasn't entirely thinking straight when I saw his strong body inch up my belly and settle on top of my chest. His hardened cock settled in the narrow, moist gap of my cleavage and poked its slippery domed head at my chin. Then he pointed that huge tool, which he was carelessly stroking in his meaty palm, at my lower lip and with his thumb, he was slowly wedging open my stunned mouth. I thought that I had committed every sin. I convinced my slutty body that fucking him, was the worst thing that I could possibly attempt. How am I constantly being proven so entirely wrong? His lusty thumb had penetrated my lips and now I felt it brushing the lining of my cheek. He cupped my chin in the grip of his powerful right hand and I felt his thumb caressing my inner cheek. My lips closed around it and I began teething like a baby. The next step was inevitable.

I not only didn't refuse his crude advancement, as he withdrew his digit and produced his hard, slippery engine, I wetted my lips and swallowed determinedly. He introduced his throbbing erection to my lips, first using the tip of his straining knob, to slap against my surprised mouth, making lewd slapping sounds and then teasing me by circling my lips with his helmeted dome and tempting my tongue out, to reach enviously for his lascivious tool. Other men, including my late husband had wished me to suck their dicks, they would have promised anything. And here, my son was teasing me and I begged for it. "Are you ready, mom? Are you gonna suck my cock?" I only nodded, unable to speak while in a trance watching his enormous cock dance infront of my startled eyes.

He was waiting for an answer, not quite giving me the whole of his swollen appendage. Keeping it just out of my reach and forcing my libidinous tongue to stretch even further, to reach my prize. He was sitting comfortably on my chest, squeezing and twisting my pert nipples. Each little pinch accompanied a biting remark about my failing efforts to capture his mammoth prong with my hungry lips. We were laughing and each offering rewards or daring the other to get closer. I was loving it. But he demanded that I speak the offensive phrase out loud. Finally, I relented to his corruptive coaxing. "Yes, Danny. I want it. I want your cock. Let me suck it." A lecherous tingle again began to percolate in my cunt, "My Gawd," I thought, "if I get that monster in my mouth, I'm going to cum like a slut. The sleazy dialogue poured out of my lecherous lips as I knew that I was too far gone, to stop now. I may as well, enjoy the experience. "Gawd," I imagined. "My nipples are like small diamonds and my crotch is soaked because I'm about to suck my son's cock."

He eased up and with his arm behind my neck, he gently lifted my head forward. With my arms no longer snared by his heavy thighs holding me down, I gripped his sticky column with my right hand and cupped his big balls with the other. Then I licked my lips and fastened my mouth into the shape of a very generous "O." His father wasn't nearly this size, and no other cock had ever entered my mouth. But I wanted to do this, and I wanted my son to enjoy it. I felt as if I needed to capture him. He was eighteen and hung like a bull, he could get any girl that he set his mind to. And he was already fucking his sister. I had better be at my best if I wanted to keep him interested, and I surely did.

The large domed head, shaped like a bald rocket, was a challenge. I thought at first, that it would never fit. "How in hell did I get that thing in my cunt?" I wondered as I saw the giant missile sizing me up. He told me to kiss the tip and I did, leaving dainty little remnants of my lipstick on his throbbing helmet. Then he instructed me to truly kiss it, like it was "my lover." I was aghast at the crude suggestion, but I came to understand the reason, as my lips parted wider and more of his spongey head slid between my gaping lips.

My cheeks readily expanded and I attempted to relax my throat with his thoughtful prodding, but it was like a sword-swallower's first practice. He urged me to stroke his slick shaft and as I did, more of his veiny tool inched down my gullet. I felt the heaviness on my tongue and tasted for the first time the slightly acidic juices of my own dripping pussy on his engorged tool. It filled my mouth and breathing became a tenuous proposition. My cheeks worked like a bellows as my oral massaging, let more of his thick column enter my manic mouth.

The huge organ suddenly stopped at my tonsils and I noticed that there was still room to spare until I reached his leathery balls. Maybe estimating the size of his erection at a mere seven inches, was to damn him with faint praise. He certainly had more than enough to satisfy the attentions of his horny mother. I was definitely going to become his "little fuck toy." Without seeming to miss a step and not interrupting our swaying rhythm, he untangled our limbs so that he was now standing and I was on my knees. The leverage was better for both of us and the rocking back and forth, increased as his tempo picked-up and my caution was harnessed.

I could see vividly in my imagination, just how slutty I must have looked. I was naked and on my knees in my own living room, with my son's cock plunging in and out of my sleazy mouth. And just the idea of sucking my son's cock, sent chills and thrills throughout my nervous body. I used the lubrication from my slobber as it seeped down his shaft, to feed more of his rod into my mouth and to slide my palm even faster along the blue-veined girth of his amazing tool. I sucked like this for about ten minutes, working it between my cheeks like a budding pro, until I thought my lips were getting numb. Even a young man needs a few minutes to reload his potent weapon, but it wasn't long until I felt the rumble on my tongue and with my left hand cradling his balls, I sensed them fill and thicken. My husband had never been allowed to cum in my mouth, but I knew now that things would be different.

With a few more thrusts and my hands pumping it steadily, I felt the shiver and throb as the cum rose in his shaft, in the same manner that mercury rises in a comic thermometer. His hand gripped a large mass of my brunette locks and his hips bucked hard against my chin. He held me tight to his pounding crotch and his cock felt alive in my throat. Danny roared like a wounded lion and swore an oath to all of the gods. I was squeezing his bare thighs and digging my nails into that firm ass, when I felt the last solid shove. He flooded my mouth so suddenly and forcibly that most of his salty cream flowed right down my throat. It was like trying to take a sip of water from a firehose. It blasted down my throat. The rest bloated my cheeks and left me gasping for air.

Choking and gagging, there is no proper way to prepare yourself for this initial oral endeavor, I was forced to tug his pole from my lips and gulp for oxygen. His final spurts caught me squarely between the eyes and then as his energy faded, he dribbled the whitish load on my tits and belly. I had just inhaled a gallon of his juices and still, looked like a cum-covered mess. However, I was sated and thrilled, my pussy reacted and the chills rattled me.

"Oh yes mom, that was terrific. You really put on a show when you're horny." This small quip and almost left-handed compliment were accompanied by hands clapping their applause. I did a double take, noticing that my son's hand still grasped my stringy mane, and his voice sounded so different, that it couldn't be from cum in my ears. Then I saw that my daughter Christi, was leaning against the door jamb with her shorts unbuttoned and that her gooey fingers showed a trace of her recent masturbation while watching us from only a few feet away

I was startled and humiliated, looking for an escape route but Danny kept me on my knees, as if he knew that his sister was watching. As I sat through the changing hues that colored my face and fidgeted ashamedly on the carpet, Danny almost took a bow for his grand performance. Christi showed no embarrassment at all, only a little grief that she was too late to witness the entire show and as Danny turned in her direction, she also sensed that it would be a while before her brother, despite his vigor and new opportunity, would be able to replicate his wonderful sexual rendition.

Christi now piped-up, "You were right Danny, I didn't think you could do it."

My ears perked-up at her remark. "What do you mean?" I was more confused by her comment than embarrassed that I was naked and cum-soaked. "What are you talking about?" Then I heard my son chuckle as he fell back into a soft chair.

"Danny said that he wanted to fuck you, and I told him that it would never happen." She appeared slightly perturbed that she had figured wrong. I thought for a brief moment, that maybe jealousy was rearing its ugly head. Then she thoroughly corrected that notion. "I bet him, that if he could fuck you, that I would join you two, in a threesome."

My eyes widened like tea saucers. Then I remembered the obscene scenario that kick-started this entire diabolical rendezvous. "Did you know that he was going to seduce me?" I questioned. Recalling in my memory, the thought of her voluptuous body engaged in this kinky incestuous ordeal. Not really as infuriated as I should have been if I was set-up, but more flummoxed and with a small hint of pride that my son might have planned for my seduction and that my daughter wanted to have sex with me. "Are you telling me that you want to have sex with me, too?"

She simply sidled over to where I was now, alone and still on my knees. Christi lifted her thin cottony top as she walked and when she stood infront of me, she delicately reached behind her and unclipped her sheer bra. The slinky material slid to the floor and she boldly stood with her hands on her hips as her magnificent bustline came fully into view. They were spectacular to behold. Larger around than mine, firmer and pouty, without any cum dripping from the nipples. I noticed that she was barefooted and would soon see even more, as her denim shorts slid down her legs revealing her very nude labia with just a hint of her own dewy cream creating a lustrous sheen on her inviting pussy.

She looked sideways at her brother, who was eager for the show but with his shriveled cock laying dormant in his lap, was reduced to being a spectator for his ultimate triumph. I followed her eyes and was a bit let-down, after the previous frenzy of sexual activity. But she simply took his place and guided my face to the hot triangle between her thighs. She combed her lithe fingers through my tussled mane and cupped my sticky chin in her palm. I leaned forward and gently placed soft, wet kisses on the bald mound, as her straining clit emerged from its protective hood. "C'mon mom," she encouraged. "Let's see if we can get Danny excited," we both giggled. "Otherwise, without a big cock, we'll just have to have our own fun."

The End

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