A Skinny Mom with Big Holes

But then I heard a noise behind me.

* * *

My heart thudding, I pulled away from Robin, raised my head and looked back.

Oh, god, no! It was Paul, standing there in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of old, worn boxers, taking in the scene.

And the scene was one that I had painstakingly created over weeks of patient seduction: Robin entirely naked, legs spread wide and shaking, nipples thick and hard popping out of her swollen mounds. Me with my bare ass sticking up in the air, my glistening cunt totally exposed. I knew it intimately, had pictured it so many times. Now I found myself looking at it through Paul's eyes....and I was horrified.

It felt as if the entire world had frozen. Nothing and no one moved in this tableau, no one made a sound. No, wait, one thing did move: there seemed to be something alive in his boxers, something that made the material tent out in front of him, and pulse visibly.

Paul had an erection. Then my eyes moved up to his face. He looked really angry.

I started to come unfrozen in the strangest way. First, my mind told me: "Why wouldn't he have an erection? He's looking at two very attractive women naked on the bed." Then my mind screamed back: "Yeah, but I'm his mother!"

And then everything came unstuck.

In a single fluid movement, Paul pulled down his boxers and advanced towards the bed. His erection pointed at the ceiling from within a bushy nest of black hair and it was big. No, it was more than that. It was massive: long and thick. I hadn't seen him naked for years and had no idea he sported the kind of penis that made a woman go weak at the very sight of it.

Before I could say anything, do anything, he stepped up behind me, and pressed his cock right up against my wet opening. Then he pushed.

You might think that my body would have put up some resistance, given that his erection had to have been at least three inches in diameter (now that I could see it at this piont). And me so skinny. Funny thing about that. Yes, I was thin in most ways, but as Sam used to say: "You're my skinny girl with big holes." My mouth was enormous: thick lips that stretched straight across my face - lots of people told me that my smile was my best feature. I didn't know whether to thank them for that, but I could see what they meant. And that wasn't all; my vagina was also big and it opened wide. I had no idea of this, though I had discovered when masturbating as a teenager that I could easily slide all the fingers of my hand in without any difficulty. I sure never had any trouble accommodating Sam (who was sizable, but nothing like his son) or anyone other man I let fuck me. Hell, sometimes it seemed like Sam would get lost inside me; he'd squeeze my legs together to increase the friction as we fucked.

So when Paul pushed his monster at me, my already-stimulated cunt opened up like a blossoming flower and let a few inches of him right in. He grunted. I think he was surprised.

But that didn't mean I wanted him there. His cock was so hot and hard, it felt like an iron poker that had just been removed from the fire and dipped into a pool of water. It seared me from the inside out.

I panicked and shrieked:

"No, god, no! Get it out, get it out, Paul, you can't do this. Don't do this! Stop!"

He ignored me. He continued to push his way in, filling me up with the thickest cock that had ever been inside me. I tried to pull away, disengage, roll to the side, escape in any way I could. But Paul put his hands on my waist and pulled me tight against him. I screamed as that cock pushed in even deeper. This couldn't be happening. This was my son, my Paul. Why would he do this? I realized that I would have to suspend my sense of horror and outrage for now, and focus on figuring out how to get out of the awful situation.

There was only direction I could go: down. I threw my knees back to collapse away from him. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a bad idea, since he just followed me down and then I was lying flat against Robin, could feel her breasts mashing into mine, my head pushed into the pillow next to hear head, and that cock, my son's cock relentlessly pursuing some deep and previously unexplored part of me.

"Oh god," I groaned, directly into Robin's ear, "Paul, stop this, take it out...."

"Take it out?" Paul replied, sounding very far away. He laughed roughly, then reached along the inside of my legs and spread them apart.

"You are telling me, to get out?" he growled, and slid his cock even further into me. How much more could there be? I groaned and ground my pubes against Robin, the only way I could escape that insane erection even the slightest bit. She pressed right back.

"You make demands of me, when I come in here and find you sticking your tongue into my girlfriend's cunt? When, each and every morning, you are licking her insides and then giving her a taste straight from your tongue?" Wait a minute, some small corner of brain protested, how did you know I did that? "I would say you've got some mighty big balls to tell me to 'get out', but you don't have balls. Fortunately, I do. And I gotta tell you, Mom, I think you deserve to have those balls slapping against your cunt. You deserve," he repeated, with a somewhat vicious intensity, "to be fucked any which way I feel like fucking you. Which, you will see, is every way."

Who was this person? He didn't seem like my son at all. Would my son do what he was doing? Would my lovely little boy do what he did next?

Paul pulled away from me a little. I immediately hoped that he'd realized his mistake. But then his hands grabbed my ass and pulled my cheeks apart. Cool air wafted over my anus, causing it to contract. He could see that, I thought to myself. My son could be staring right at my asshole, watching it close up tight. I wailed: "Noooo, no, no, I mean, yes, you are right, Paul. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have. But you shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't fuck your mother. It's wrong, it's wrong, please...."

Paul ground himself into me, flattening my ass, knocking all the words out of my mouth and mind, forcing all sorts of guttural noises out of my lungs. I'd never felt so exposed and so vulnerable in my entire life.

"I.will.fuck.you.any.time.I.want." Paul said, each word emphatic, each word synchronized with a thrust. His crude, ugly words struck like physical blows, beating me down and beating the resistance out of me.

Then Paul held himself still, his cock pulsing wildly inside me, as my body shuddered involuntarily. He ran his hands up along my bony back, pressing me tighter against Robin. He leaned over and noisily, wetly kissed Robin.

"Baby," he said, "you know how much I love to be inside you, right? So don't be jealous....but I have never been in a cunt that fit me so well. "

Then he turned his attention back to me.

"Mom, can you feel it? The way I fill you up? Damn, you are like a superhighway of fucking and I am a whole convoy of eighteen-wheelers. You made me, and you made me just right for fucking you." He pushed at me and I pressed into Robin. "Get out? I mean, c'mon, Mom. You were planning to use that extra-large vibrator on my sweet Robin today, weren't you?"

Yes, I had been hoping to share that experience with Robin, and it was the jumbo size. How else could I enjoy it? And what could I say to my son? I had betrayed him, let him down. I sobbed quietly as he stroked in and out, filling me, emptying me, filling me....I was so disappointed with myself, feeling like maybe this is what I deserved: to be used. Just as I thought that, Paul bit my left shoulder, and my mind flooded with a memory of a long-ago orgasm that had rocked my world, courtesy of his father, Sam.

In the earliest days of their relationship, Sam would come over and watch Saturday Night Live with me. It was a late show, and everyone else in the family was already in bed. They explored each other throughout the show, but were careful to keep clothing on, in case one of her parents came down.

But one night, Sam clearly had something else in mind. I sat on his lap as we laughed uproariously at a skit. But while I was still laughing, Sam had already moved on to other pleasures. I felt his hands snake under my skirt, grab hold of my panties and pull them down.

"Just your panties, sweetness," he murmured. "You will still be safe from your parents' prying eyes."

And so I let my panties drop to the ground. His fingers quickly invaded, stroking me, pulling and pushing in all the right places, causing lightning bolts to run up and down my spine. I spread my legs over his, pulled my feet up to the couch, so that I in essence crouched over him, and then settled onto his fingers. Saturday Night Live faded from my consciousness. All I could think about were those fingers. He probed and squeezed, I moaned and wiggled, and worked ever closer to an orgasm.

What I hadn't (apparently) paid any attention to was the fact that his other hand had been busy unzipping his pants. How he managed to get his boner out of his pants while I sat on him, I will never sort out.

All I knew was: one moment I was enjoying his fingers, and the next moment his cock was enjoying smooth sailing all the way up inside me. All the way, especially when he put his hands under my knees and lifted my feet off the couch. No more safeguards against gravity, I descending on his cock with my full weight and just in time remembered not to scream.

I rocked back and forth, amazed at how high up the tip of his penis was in me.

And then Sam pivoted me down to the carpeting and started fucking me doggy-style intensely. It was simultaneously savage and beautiful. My legs shook, my head hung down, my breasts swayed back and forth. And then he pushed even harder, too hard for me to keep my balance, and I went down, pinned to the floor by his relentless cock, legs splayed, my skirt up over my back, my ass exposed and trembling. He stroked faster and faster, leaning over me in his intensity. Then he nipped my shoulder, adding a brief, intense pain to the mix and that brought me to a massive, overwhelming, shattering orgasm that swept over me in waves and left me lying helpless on the floor, panting like a dog, while a stain made up of Sam's cum and my own juices spreading on the rug below me.

* * *

And now it felt like that same mouth was biting me, the same cock was invading me. And in the same way. Like father like son? And then I wanted to giggle. Really. I felt a giggle bubble up from my lungs. Because son wasn't exactly like father. Son was at least three inches longer and an inch wider. And because I suddenly thought about how this time my juices and the cum wouldn't make a stain on the carpet. Instead, they would soak into Robin's public hair. Maybe even some of it would ooze into Robin's cunt. Oh, that was delicious to contemplate.

Wait, what was I thinking? Was I losing my mind?

I was definitely losing the battle. Paul was so big and strong. I just couldn't get away. He was now thrusting his full length into me, then pulling almost all the way out, then back again. I squeezed my cunt as tight as it would go when he pulled back, hoping to push him out. But he just yelled "All right, Mom, do it! Be my squeezebox. Shit, I have never been able to get my cock all the way into a woman before!" and then he forced two fingers into me, sliding in right alongside his cock, stretching me farther than ever before.

After a few more strokes, he pulled out his fingers, reached forward and pressed them against my lips. They were warm and wet.

I kept my lips tightly closed, I turned my head, but he was relentless and finally the slippery fingers found their way to my tongue. I tasted my own juices and as I did something in my brain gave up. I stopped fighting. I sucked those fingers and accepted that I couldn't get away. My son was fucking me and I couldn't stop him. Maybe I even deserved it. I had been bad, very bad, and now it was time for punishment.

I buried my head in the crook of Robin's neck and whimpered. And then, as if Paul was able to read my mind, had sensed my capitulation, he laughed and then I heard "whack, whack, whack" and felt a series of sharp stings across my ass. Paul was spanking me and it hurt.

"No, no, stop, Paul, stop hurting me."

"Hurting you? Ha! A little pain never hurt anyone. How about this?"

Then a moistened finger - from the shape of it, it must be his thumb, I thought to myself in an oddly detached manner - plunge right into my anus, before I had a chance to reject it. And when I did clamp down, try to close the sphincter, that thumb refused to go anywhere. I couldn't push it out. And the utter shock of this intrusion sent me directly into one of those orgasms that grows and grows and grows and I couldn't do a damn thing but shake and hang on desperately to the tiniest little part of me that was still humiliated and outraged.

* * *

After a while I came back to the world, and found it to be very small and quiet: I still lay on top of Robin, and Paul still filled me with his erection. The only sounds were the wet, squishing sounds of him stroking in and out.

I opened my eyes and saw Robin smiling at me gleefully. She pushed her lips against mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth.

I wanted to scream at her: "Bitch! Bitch! You knew this was going to happen! You tricked me into being fucked by my own son!" But I didn't, I couldn't. My tongue was being explored by her tongue. My asshole was occupied by my son's thumb. My cunt was filled with rock-hard cock.

And I liked it. I liked all of it. If anyone was the bitch, it was me. I'd started the whole thing, lusting after my son's girlfriend. This was only justice, rough justice, luscious justice.

I pushed back against Paul's cock and his thumb. I pushed and pushed until my ass was pressed right against his pelvis. I ground into him. Paul snickered.

And then justice got a bit rougher. Paul moved his thumb around in my ass, stretching me. Robin reached her hands back, grabbed hold of my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I felt something wet plop down on the crack running down between my cheeks, and then Paul inserted another lubricated finger into my ass.

Pressure, weird feelings, a rising sense of disgust as I realized what he planned to do. Paul wanted to fuck me in the ass. No one had ever done that. I never wanted anyone to do that. Suddenly, my acceptance of my guilt, my acceptance of his fucking me, evaporated in the panic I felt of him pushing a three-inch wide pillar of hard flesh into my ass. My mouth was big. My cunt was big. But my asshole was as small as anyone else's.

I tried to squeeze every muscle down there tight, push away from the fingers. But there was nowhere to go and he just laughed at me and pushed in a third finger. He wiggled them, moving them in circles. I could feel him rub in more and more of his spit and her juices and who knows what. Then four fingers were inside my ass and finally five. I could feel five digits all moving, spreading, stretching me. I felt like I was going to take a shit and a part of my mind went blank at the thought of such loss of control.

"No, Paul, no, take them out. I am dirty down there. Don't put your fingers there. Take them out, take them - "

He pulled them out. My sphincter closed instantly. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and babbled: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, just fuck me like you're fucking me, that's OK, that's only fair, but don't, don't...."

And then he pulled out of my cunt and I felt empty. Really empty. Before I could stop myself, I pushed back at Paul. I wanted to get filled up again. No such luck.

"Been there, done that," said Paul, brightly. He grabbed both sides of my hips and pulled me up.

"C'mon, Mom, on your hands and knees. You can do it." He moved my body around into the position he wanted me. I didn't have the energy or will to fight him. I couldn't hold my head up. "You are so gonna love this. All the girls do" Robin, still below me, reached up and pinched my nipples. The pain forced my eyes open. She looked into my eyes and nodded. "You will love it," she said. "But it will hurt."

Paul wrapped his big hands around my thighs and held them tight. Robin moved her hands from my breasts to my upper arms and similarly clamped down. I couldn't move at all, but I was shaking all over.

"You are going to looooove this," Paul whispered, and pushed the head of his cock against my only slightly stretched asshole. I threw my head back and howled: "Nooooooo...."

But the cock said yes: "Yes, I will slowly, slowly push into your tiny little hole. Yes, I will wait while you adjust yourself and accept it. But not too long. Yes, I will feel your iron-tight sphincter loosen and surround my big purple tip. Yes, I will sink into you, yes!"

That's what was going through my mind, anyway, but it couldn't distract me from the awful, persistent pressure. It felt like something was going to tear, give way. My whole body was rigid, I was afraid to move a muscle. Tears leaked out of my eyes and fell on Robin's face. And then the cockhead popped through and stopped. It pulsed inside me and all I could feel was relief. Thank god the pressure was gone.

My sphincter constricted around his cock, but it couldn't get very far. How could he have fit that thing in my ass? I was still afraid to move. I was panting so loudly I could barely hear Paul groan: "Oh, Mom, your ass is fantastic. Who would have thought that such a skinny MILF would be able to make me so happy, would be so welcoming to my big, fat dick?"

And then he pushed, aiming to fill me up yet again, but from the other side. Same cock sinking into the same body, but oh did it feel different. Inch by inch, he made his way into me, until I could feel his public hair pressed against my ass. He was all the way in. I was shaking my head from side to side. "No, no, no, no..." I kept repeating, but I knew it wouldn't do any good.

Then he pulled back, almost all the way out, pressing against the sphincter from the inside, but not leaving. From that point, he pulled back just a little more, forcing the sphincter to open slightly, getting ready to inject the invader. But then he stopped and pushed back in a tiny bit. Over and over again. I groaned at the manipulation. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of an involuntary muscle that moved according to the will of my son. And I was soon entirely lost in the sensation. There was still pressure, lots of pressure, but the pain and the fear had passed.

Robin let go of my arms and scooted down below me, while I rocked minutely back and forth. If only Paul could do this, and nothing more: don't push in so deep, don't pull out (I was scared of how that would feel). I sighed....and then Robin slid what felt like all the fingers of one hand right up into my relaxed, stretched vagina. Pushed them right in and then kept going, until I could feel her entire hand go in, causing the walls of my vagina to stretch beyond anything I'd ever felt before.

Soon, Robin was moving her hand in and out, getting more and more of her arm in me each time. And when that rhythm was established, Paul returned to his deep diving in my ass. I could feel the bottom of his cock rubbing up against Robin's fingers.

Fisted and ass-fucked at the same time, I threw my head back and roared. Paul laughed and slapped my ass twice, three times. The pain just ratcheted up my pleasure further.

I pushed back against the both of them, urging them with my body to invade me to their fullest. Robin scooted down under me to so she could straighten out her wrist and accommodate my desire. Paul's cock was pushed in to the hilt. His balls, just as he predicted, were now slapping against my cunt.