After the Party

John flushed. "Oh, y'know, nothing much."

"Were you making out?" Her tone was teasing, but her hand was serious. Yvette allowed her palm to slide down along the inside of John's thigh. Her wrist and little finger nudged up against the hardness between John's legs -- just for a second -- before she swept her hand away again.

John hissed, a sharp intake of breath. But as usual, he couldn't lie to his mother. "Not exactly," he said. His voice shook a little. What the hell is going on? he wondered. He could feel his cock, still wet with Lucy's saliva and his own precoital fluids, beginning to harden as his mother touched him. He hoped his mother didn't notice, and then suddenly the side of her hand was there -- just for a second -- and then gone. She had to have noticed!

"Oh?" Yvette said. She brought her left hand up to her cleavage and slowly traced her index finger along the prodigious slope of her left breast. Her diamond hard nipples scraped against the cups of her demi-bra. She could barely keep from pouncing on her own son. Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts rising and falling quickly, and she felt as if her pussy would squelch if she pushed her legs together. "What 'exactly' were you up to?"

John's eyes followed her finger, as if hypnotized. A mixture of confusion, wonder, and lust passed over his features.

"She was... she was... um, giving me a blowjob." The words left his mouth in a sort of dazed whisper, but as soon as they were out there, John paled, and his eyes snapped up from Yvette's straining breasts to her eyes, expecting to see anger or horror.

Instead, he saw only sympathy. And something else, something no mother should ever feel for her son. Naked, unbridled passion.

At John's declaration, Yvette's hand swept up to cup his crotch. Instinctively, John thrust his hips forward, pressing his hardness into his mother's palm. "Oh son, I'm so sorry," Yvette said. "I had no idea! And look, you're still hard, you poor thing."

With her hand still firmly pressed against her son's burgeoning hardness, as if pinning him to the couch, Yvette slowly slid onto the floor, her stocking clad knees settling onto the rug, her body coming to rest between John's spread thighs.

John watched in sick fascination as she moved, her heavy tits bouncing enticingly with each shift of her body. Yvette's nimble fingers unbuttoned John's jeans and pulled at the zipper.

"Mom!" John croaked. "What are you doing?"

Yvette smiled. "I ruined your date honey, and I feel terrible about that. What kind of mother would I be if I let you go to bed in this condition?"

Probably a sane mother, Yvette answered herself silently. But John made no more protest as his zipper rasped and Yvette reached in through the hole in his boxers to fish his raging cock out. It wouldn't come, too tumescent, halfway down his pant leg, and after a frustrating moment, Yvette commanded John. "Up," she said. He stood, awkwardly, and she roughly pulled his pants and underwear down.

Her son's mighty cock sprang free, swinging upward and narrowly missing her face. As it was, a splatter of precum struck Yvette's cheek. Too far away to lick it off, she left it there. Instead, she gently pushed John back into a sitting position on the couch and closely examined him.

He was huge, bigger by far than his father, and thick around. Bulging veins decorated the pale hard flesh of his member, and the angry purple head at the top swelled and throbbed and secreted delicious looking fluid. Two huge balls, lightly covered in golden fuzz, hung from his magnificent cock. They were full to the brim with teenage semen, and Yvette determined she would drain them dry.

Yvette's blue eyes widened and she licked her lips. She looked up past his towering cock, into her son's face. He looked stricken, uncertain, as if warring with himself whether to push her away and escape or grab her head and shove his cock home in her throat.

She took away his need to make a choice.

Yvette grabbed John's shuddering cock with both hands, one on top of the other, and his cockhead still stood out. He was enormous, mouth-wateringly so, and she wondered if she could even fit him inside her. Well, she thought, I've done it before -- I can do it again.

Slowly she jacked him with both hands. He moaned and clenched his fists, watching her, slackjawed, wide-eyed. Precum oozed from his cockslit, coating Yvette's fingers, coating his cock. Little wet noises filled the air as she swept her hands up and down his raging hardness, the only other sound John's little gasps and the roaring in Yvette's ears.

Finally, Yvette could stand it no more. She lowered her head, opened her mouth, and swept her tongue across the roof of her son's cock. Precum squirted into her mouth, sweet and salty, and beneath that the warm hot maleness of his flesh -- her flesh. Her lips parted and subsumed the plum into her mouth, where her teeth and tongue teased him. Licked him, tasted him, kissed him. The agile tip of her tongue toyed with his cockslit, eagerly seeking the delicious precum that was now jetting from his cock, coating her tongue and lips. Yvette lashed him with her tongue, bathed him with her saliva.

John's hands fell on her head, but he didn't push. He pulled the little white cap off and tossed it away. He pulled the pins binding her hair up and swept his strong young hands through her long red hair, freeing it, flouncing it, creating a cloud around her head.

Yvette hummed, flicked her tongue across John's cockhead. She released him from the sweet prison of her lips with a pop, still gripping him tightly with both hands. The hot, molten core churning within her demanded she act even naughtier. "Do you like Mommy touching you?" she said. Her voice was hoarse with passion and undisguised need. "Do you like Mommy's mouth on you?"

"Oh yes," John moaned.

Yvette looked him in the eyes and kissed his cockhead. Where was this coming from? she wondered. She could stop here, she realized. Stop here, flee upstairs, and somehow pretend this hadn't happened. But any further... any further and there would simply be no stopping. This was the Point of No Return.

"What do you want Mommy to do next?" she said, breathless. She willed her son to understand her, to truly understand what the question meant, even though she couldn't quite bring herself to say the words.

John threw his head back on the couch cushion. Maybe he did understand. "God, Mom, I don't... but I need..." He paused, took a deep breath, and looked down at her, right in her eyes. "Mommy, will you suck me?"

Yvette's eyes closed as her body suddenly shuddered in a mini-orgasm. Just the words were enough to trigger her. She had always thought her son handsome and attentive, had always been a little jealous of his many girlfriends, but she didn't realize until he said those words just how dark and deeply her own Oedipal cravings went.

Yvette looked at her son through half lidded eyes. "Oh yes, son. Mommy will suck you. And more." Her hands released John's cock. Her nostrils flared. She opened her mouth and dropped her head. His raging, throbbing monster slid easily between her lips. His cockhead found her throat quickly, too quickly, but she had taken a deep breath and continued. His girth, greater at the base than at the top, stretched her lips wide, but she forced herself downward, until those golden hairs tickled her nose.

She held him there for seven seconds, sucking on him, nursing on him, her cheeks hollow and flushed from the effort. His cock throbbed and sprayed precum straight down her straining throat. Then he slid back up, releasing him with another pop that sent his cock swinging, weeping saliva and precum. Yvette took a deep breath.

"Jesus, Mom," John said.

Yvette grinned for a moment and then devoured him again. Her lips swept up and down his massive tool, fucking him with her mouth. Her tongue and throat caressed him, urging him on. John's fingers wound through the wild tangle of her vibrant hair, and pushed her head downward, forcing more of his meat into her mouth. His hips rose, fucking her mouth as her mouth fucked him, hard and rough and lusty.

Yvette's hands cupped his heavy balls, gently kneading them, enjoying their weight and virility. She looked up into John's eyes, enjoying the look of pure lust contorting his face, almost as much as she enjoyed the taste and feel of his rampaging cock between her lips.

Her tongue felt the flutter at the base of his cock as his crest began to rise. His strokes grew quicker and shorter. Gently but insistently, Yvette pulled John's hands away from her head. She swept her lips from him, gasping heavily, trails of saliva and precum linking her lips to his cock, and gripped the base of him tightly. Yvette stuck out her tongue and opened wide, laying his plum sized cockhead against her tongue. She looked up into his eyes and gently stroked the base of his cock, silently urging him on.

John's face screwed up, but he kept his eyes wide open, watching in lustful wonder as his beautiful mother accepted his precious load. For suddenly he was cumming, his huge cock shuddering and throbbing angrily in his mother's hand. Jets of pearly white cum sprayed into his mother's mouth, coating her tongue and lips with white frosting. Quickly he filled her mouth, and when she was forced to swallow, his cock jetted another huge rope across her lips and cheek. Her mouth was open again a split second later, and neatly caught the next few jets.

Yvette swallowed noisily and looked up at her son with a mixture of pride and passion. His cum was thick and delicious, and he clearly came in prodigious amounts. She sucked the head of his cock back into her mouth, cleaning him off, sucking every last bit of jizz and swallowing it down.

Finally, she released him. She scraped a fingernail across her cheek, and fed the errant jet of jism between her lips.

She was not surprised to see her son had not softened a bit. His cock still towered over her, long and rigid and powerful. Yvette's lips quirked into a smile.

"I see a mother's work is never done."

Yvette stood. She reached beneath the flounces of her skirt and peeled the soaking wet g-string away from her pussy. It came free with a slight sucking sound. She slid her panties down her long legs, her fingertips brushing her white fishnets, then awkwardly kicked them free of her shoes.

"Up," Yvette commanded her son once more. Obligingly, he rose, and she leaned forward, letting her heavy breasts hang down beneath her as her ass rose in the air. Bracing her hands against the couch, she tossed her wild red mane and threw her son a smoldering look. There was no misinterpreting it.

John kicked his own legs free of the tangle of his pants and underwear. With raging cock bouncing, he stepped behind his mother. His large hands slipped beneath her skirts and cupped the full globes of her ass. He kneaded her flesh, his fingertips burning her where they dug into her ass cheeks. She moaned as he found her searing, soaking pussy, his agile fingers teasing her pink, weeping folds.

Yvette felt something hard and thick and resilient nudge against her pussy lips. She looked behind her, over her shoulder, and marveled again at the broadness of her son's shoulders, his narrow waist, his commanding strength. His sheer virility. One strong hand grabbed her waist, the other guided his cock as his enormous head began to slide into her. Another mini-orgasm shook Yvette's lush, matronly frame at the insistent incestuous contact.

Instinctively, Yvette arched her back into a deeper S-curve, raising her ass further, spreading her legs wider. Her pussy widened as well, desperate to accept the intruder preparing to plunder the most sacrosanct part of her body.

"I'm going to fuck you, Mom," John said unnecessarily, but the words sent a wicked shiver up Yvette's spine. "Are you ready to have your son fuck you?"

She had never been readier for anything in her life. "Just ram that thing in me," Yvette gasped. She cried out as John complied. His enormous man-root drove deeply into her, piercing her, almost driving the breath from her as his delicious cock spread her flesh. She began to cum almost immediately.

John felt himself enveloped by his mother's moist, hot core. Her fluids bathed his rampaging cock, a searing balm that shook him to his very soul. He stood hunched over her for a moment, his mighty tool embedded deep within her. His mother shook beneath him, moaning softly, her pussy lips clamping tightly around his cock. Even so, he was not entirely within her. A few inches of his manhood remained outside. He took several deep, sharp breaths, then slowly eased himself forward until his mother's full ass flattened against his chiseled abdomen.

Yvette cried out, thrashing beneath him. The couch shook under her movements. John was certain that her cries would waken his father, but he didn't care. He reveled in the feelings of absolute pleasure, and tremendous power, as his cock throbbed hard and happy deep within his mother's soaking pussy.

John flexed his cock, and Yvette's interior flexed with him. Her pussy lips were spread wide by the girth of his cock-base, her fluids leaking out to coat his swinging balls. With a grunt, John slowly withdrew, dragging his heavy cock out of his mother until only the head remained trapped within her delectable flesh. Then, savagely, almost brutally, he began to fuck her. He sawed his cock into her again and again, pounding his mother, slamming her hard against the couch, driving himself into her deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Yvette's moans slowly transformed into a steady keening, as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. She couldn't tell when one orgasm began and another one ended. With every thrust, her son stoked the incestuous fire that had subsumed her loins and her heart. He ravaged her, and she loved him for it. She felt the muscles in her plush ass ripple with every impact, and an itching need began in her asshole.

For John, every inch of his cock felt like it was on fire. And only his mother's sweet pussy could quench the flames. Again and again he drove himself into her, gripping her waist tightly, slamming his cock home over and over.

"Mom," John grunted, as the familiar tingle began in his balls. "Mom, I'm gonna cum."

Yvette moaned and shuddered. "Give it to me, son. Give Mommy all your cum. I want to feel you deep within me!"

John groaned. He pulled out quick, then slammed his cock home brutally, almost mashing his mother's face into the sofa cushion. They both felt his already immense cock expand even further inside her, and then with a shuddering throb, he began spraying his mother's womb with his jism. He felt each tremendous rope as it traveled up the long column of his throbbing flesh and spat itself free deep within his mother. Yvette felt his seed splatter against the roof of her womb. The biggest orgasm yet blossomed in her core and exploded outward at the speed of light. She saw spots, her fingers and toes tingled and curled. Tears of pleasure and joy dripped from her closed eyes as a wordless moan left her lips.

And still John emptied himself into her. His mighty weapon fired over and over, unloading a quart of viscous, white semen into her depths. It filled her, seeped past her pussy lips, and dripped out onto John's contracting balls.

At last, spent, John curled over his mother, gasping for air. Yvette's weak knees finally gave out and she slid to the floor. John followed her, still buried in her steaming, sloshing pussy.

Yvette lost consciousness, stirring only slightly as John pulled himself away from her. His cock came free with a slurping sound, and streamers of cum poured out of Yvette's ravaged pussy, staining her thighs and the floor.

Gasping, sweating, overcome, John slumped backward on the living room floor. A beautific smile pulled at his lips as he slowly slipped into sleep as well.

Later

Slowly, Yvette regained consciousness. She became aware of the ache between her legs, then the dampness there, and suddenly awoke with a start. She looked guiltily over her shoulder at her son, passed out on the living room floor. A slow, sinful smile spread across Yvette's lips. The poor boy looked exhausted, but he had earned his rest. Not that she would allow him to rest for much longer.

Yvette surveyed her costume, noting that it had taken a beating. There were loose buttons and tears, cum stains and a run in her stockings. She stood languorously, stretching her voluptuous frame. Once erect, she shimmied out of the confines of the French maid outfit. She also divested herself of the demibra, and allowed herself a sigh as her heavy breasts were unfettered. Keeping the fishnets and stiletto heels on, she stepped over her son, straddling him. Yvette sank down onto him, pressing her nude body against his. Her pussy pressed against his scrotum, while her huge tits flattened across his broad chest.

John stirred beneath her. Yvette kissed him lightly on the lips. "Wake up, lover. I'm not done with you yet," she whispered.

John opened his eyes. To his credit, he didn't blink. His strong arms rose up, wrapped around his mother's body, and held her close. He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue between her lips. She wondered if he could taste himself there, for she still could, and met his aggression with her own.

His eyes bore into hers, a strange mix of romantic love, sheer lust, and the love a son had for a mother. She felt his mighty weapon gaining steel against her belly.

Finally John broke away. "This is great, Mom, but kind of uncomfortable."

Yvette made a solicitous sound. "I'm sorry, baby. You just feel so good pressed against mama. I can tell you like it too," she said with a giggle and a wiggle of her hips. His cock throbbed between them. He groaned. "Let's go to your bedroom."

Yvette sat up. John groaned again as her full tits lifted from his chest and she revealed herself to him in all her glory. His mother's breasts were magnificent. Huge, pale, a light dusting of freckles across the cleavage, a fine tracery of blue veins just below the surface, capped by hard, strawberry pink nipples that begged to be kissed and sucked. Her tits were full and round, with barely a hint of sag despite their size. John couldn't help himself. He palmed his mother's tits, noting with lustful, incestuous joy that he couldn't fit an entire hand around either one. Her hard nipples dug into his palms. He kneaded her breast flesh, reveling in their firm, smooth skinned softness. He cupped them, brought his lips to them, and brushed kisses across their snowy mountaintops. His lips and teeth found her nipples, teasing them.

"Oh, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," Yvette breathed. "What you do to Mommy."

Yvette had to force herself to pull away from John. She dragged him to a sitting position, then eventually to his feet. He pulled her to him and kissed her again. She felt as though she could melt. The fluttering heat in her belly had exploded, spread throughout her limbs, taken over her mind. Was she the worst mother in the world, or the best mother in the world? She supposed only John could answer that.

Wordlessly, she lead him through the house, to the front stair and up to her son's bedroom. Just down the hall from where her husband lay sleeping off his drunk. She wondered briefly if he would be able to hear what she and John would be up to, and found that at this point she didn't care. He had ignored her for the last time. It didn't help that one session with her son had been more explosive and amazing that twenty years with Joseph.

They stumbled into John's dark, messy room, still kissing and caressing and rubbing one another. John flicked on the light. Yvette didn't care that his clothes lay scattered around the floor, or that his bed wasn't made. She did mind that the blinds were up, and quickly lowered to block the window. No need for the neighbors to see anything.