Breach Pt. 03

"Oh Mom," Abram sighed. "I love you so much. I want you to be my wife."

"Mmm, my beautiful baby boy," I sang, my voice dripping like honey as I arched hard and long against him, stimulating my clit against his trapped cock. "You're so sweet. But I'm already married, honey. Are you gonna steal me away from my husband? And what about Emily, huh?" It felt good to tease.

Abram clamped my hips with his hands possessively and spoke almost harshly. "Rick doesn't deserve you. And if I can have you to myself, I would break up with Emily. Sadie, I'm serious."

The thought of my son leaving his springy, young, pretty girlfriend to be with me was like embers to my pride. I fanned the flame and indulged. "You'd break her innocent heart just for me?" I asked and kissed my son's lips, beginning to trace along the inner edge of his jogging pants with playful fingers.

"Yes!" He sighed out desperately.

I realized that the deeper I went into the pool of lust and sin, the further I sank from the surface which was covered in the undesirable black layer of guilt. And so I sank. "You'll break up with her? You promise that I'll have you all to myself?" When he hesitated, obviously stunned, I kissed him once more before dismounting and tugging his pants down and off, exposing his tall erection. "Do you promise, Abram?" I cooed, letting my weightless robe fall to the kitchen floor. "You don't want anybody but me, right?" My son watched me intently as I placed my palms on his knees and slid slowly upward to tease his cock with scarce fingertips.

"I only want you," Abram whispered as if he'd just received the revelation. "Only you, Sadie."

"Promise me," I insisted as I straddled my son's lap again, his hard dick pointing skyward between us.

"I promise. You're all I need."

"Good." I rose up slightly, angled my son's cock against my slippery pussylips, and then sank down slowly with a long sigh. Abram groaned as I impaled myself on his manhood, filling both his palms with the round, plenteous flesh of my ass. My breasts were crushed against his chest, nipples grazing him and scattering electric signals throughout my body. Our lips met in sensual kisses, humming and moaning into one another's souls. Our mouths never broke connection as I slowly, steadily and deliberately worked myself up and down his shaft. My pussy clenched Abe's cock tight like a slippery wet vice, like I was afraid to have him go. Desperate. Needy. "I'm yours now baby. Tell me you're all mine."

"Yes!" he exclaimed in a long exhale as I plummeted, taking him especially deep. "I'm yours, Sadie!"

I felt like a different person. Or, perhaps, finally myself. I wasn't sure, but I knew I was fulfilling a deep, dark desire. Abram was a catalyst to the purpose of bathing luxuriously in all the sexual fulfillment I'd missed out on over the years. That's not to say that I didn't love my son. Of course I do. But my immediate and ravenous appetite was not to express that love but rather to consume his love for me. I looked deep in his wide, wet eyes as I slowly rose and fell on him, kissing him with all the loving tenderness of a girl deep in love, drawing him deeper into me, deeper in love with his mother, filling her damaged and thirsty soul. I knew what I was doing, and that it was wrong - that I could potentially ruin my son. I didn't care. I sank my teeth into him like a tender fruit. The guilt I'd awoken with was somewhere far far away. I was an insatiable, horny, whorish little monster.

I exchanged my up and down rhythm with a back and forth swaying of my hips, maximizing his depth in my greedy cunt. My son gasped against my lips with a stunned expression in his eyes. "I'm so in love with you Mama."

I moaned heartily in reply, his words nourishing my heart and kindling the promise of orgasm. "You love me?" I asked my son as I fucked him too slow to make him cum.

"I love you, Sadie." Abram gasped. "I'm so deep in love with you."

I came.

Slowing my ministrations to savor my climax, I gasped breathily into my son's open mouth as he kissed my lips. I offered my tongue and he sucked it lovingly, squeezing my ass and bringing my hips toward him, his body pleadinging for more stimulation, begging permission to cum too. I resisted, riding the waves of my own orgasm until I'd sucked down every droplet of pleasure.

Once complete, I strummed Abram's body like an instrument, obeying the urgent pull of his hands on my ass. I worked my hips against him, keeping my eyes on his and my lips not far, kissing sporadically. His breathing picked up and I could feel his heart beating against my breasts through his chest. He let out a stifled groan first, and then moaned out loud, raw and primal as he closed his eyes tight and threw his head back. His strong hands still pulled, and so I continued to fuck him as he came, forcefully inseminating his own wicked mother.

Abram came so hard, so long. His hips bucked upward into me, thrusting his cock as deep as possible, desiring to bury himself inside me as he filled me up with his love. My pussy drank it all in, graciously accepting his sincere offering. I waved my hips up into him until I drained my baby boy of every last droplet of his rich seed, only stopping when I felt him soften inside me.

I placed my hands on Abram's chest, kissing his neck, ears and shoulders until his sweet lips became available. The post-cum clarity threatened to settle into me, bringing guilt with it. Thankfully, I knew where to hide from the uneasy feeling of wrong - in my son, deeper into his love. In that moment I wanted my conscience to die (or at least sleep) so I could fully enjoy every decadent feeling I believed I deserved. My son had saved me from a viscous, rapist attacker, and now he was saving me from shame. I loved him more for it, but in a way I knew was impure, inordinate, sinful.

I pressed my breasts against Abram, simultaneously playing with my own sensitive nipples and feeling the strength of his muscular chest. We were sweaty. I tucked my face against his neck and smelled his skin. So good. So sexy. I realized I was still horny. "We stink, baby," I said. "We need another shower."

He buried his face between my breasts and inhaled. "Wouldn't say we stink," he said, smirking. "We just smell like sex."

I stood up from him, noticing the wet discoloration between Abram's legs on the chair's cushion. I reached between my legs, rubbing my semi-sore, cum-dripping pussy. "I need to clean all your nut out of me." He watched me silently as I put my wet finger to my tongue. I winked at him. "C'mon." I grabbed his wrist and led him into the bathroom, leaving two half-full plates of breakfast on the table and our clothes on the kitchen floor.

The second shower of the day was decidedly better. No more contemplation of how horrible of a person I was. Only sweet kisses, soft caresses, soapy naked bodies and playful laughter. Abram's cock was slow to recover. I'd milked him so thoroughly but eventually, through the sight of my naked body, the feel of my big, soapy titties and my request to be sodomized, his cock had revived.

I'd turned around, offering Abram my backside. He predictably began to fondle my gordy stout, round posterior, only taking fifteen seconds to find his hands dividing me and circling my tiniest plyable hole with his finger. "I want it in my ass," I said plainly. I'd been surprised that he never attempted to fuck me in my asshole before, having expressed a unabashed adoration of my small, tight orifice. "If you can get hard right now, you can fuck me in my ass."

"Oh, my God," Abram chuckled and kissed my neck, his middle finger sliding up and down the middle of my soapy ass, his half-hard cock squashed against my left booty cheek. "Best. Mom. Ever." We both laughed heartily, but I gasped immediately when the finger gently surveying my asshole slipped inside.

"Go deeper, baby," I encouraged, knowing he'd definitely need to loosen me up if he was going to fit his big dick in such a little opening. I hadn't been fucked in my ass in almost a year and I needed to be trained again. For a second I actually regretted throwing away all my sex toys.

My son worked his finger deeper in my ass, sliding all the way out a few times to reapply the slick, sudsy soap. By the time he was able to cram his entire middle finger into my rear, I was wildly, desperately horny. I tried to keep patient, but how could I when my young, sexy son was sticking his finger up my butthole? I began to moan every time he wiggled his finger to open my circlet. I started to gently massage my clitoris "Should I try two fingers now?" he asked.

I looked down back at his long, thick, eager erection, nipping my lip. "No. Just put it in." I bent a bit at the hip as my son spread me and I felt his cockhead press against my rim. And then I felt the pressure mount as he tried to push it inside me. It began to hurt before even half of the bell was in. And even the pain turned me on. I quivered and whined, flicking over my clit with more vigor.

"Damn, you're tight," Abram said and readjusted, adding more soap. He tried again. "Fuck, Sadie!" he exclaimed as he was met with more resistance. I mouthed a curse at the pain and then was hit with an aftershock of pleasure a moment later, my knees failing momentarily. I wished he would just force it inside me. I knew he had the strength. He was probably just concerned with how much pain he might cause me. I wondered if he'd tried this with Emily and learned how sensitive a virgin asshole could be. But I was no virgin. I'd ben fucked in my ass by his father many times. I'd had three children for goodness sake! Pain was irrelevant to me at worst, and at best, a turn on. But how could he know?

Since he was so hesitant, and I was so horny but unable to cause myself the necessary pain to get my son's cock into my stingy little anus, I reached between my legs and guided him into my twat instead, sighing as he entered me once again. I bent completely over and placed my palms on the shower wall to brace myself. At least my young son knew he couldn't hurt my pussy. He slammed into me the way I'd taught him the night before, the familiar, vulgar clapping noise returning to my ears like my favorite song.

Abram's pace and ferocity grew with each stroke, his growls echoing in the bathroom, minling with my feminine whines. The sound of clapping grew thunderous and it drove me toward climax as I focused on it and the stinging sensation of my son's hips crashing against my ass and making my flesh wobble. I steadied myself with one hand on the wall. The other I used to run one finger back and forth over my exposed, engorged clit. I shuddered when I came, my arm collapsing so that my head fell against my forearm, knees buckling and drawing together out of some form of pussy preservation.

Abram kept fucking me.

"Where...do you...wanna...cum?" I asked in a gasping breath through his hard thrusts.

"Urgh, urgh, urgh," he grunted as he fucked me. "Urgh, urgh, your...urgh...mouth."

No more words were needed. Abram gripped my hips so hard I felt his fingernails digging painfully into my skin. He stroked and stroked and stroked, masterfully, powerfully. I came and came and came, punishing my clit until it hurt from overstimulation.

I was still mid climax when he pulled out of me quickly. I turned around and dropped to my knees, tilting my head back and sticking my tongue out of my wide open mouth, my eyes on the big dick being stroked vigorously in front of me. My son grunted once and slowed his stroking, placing the very tip of hip penis on my tongue. Jets of cum bespattered the back of my throat as I eagerly ravaged my clitoris, my climax extended by this new development: my son was cumming in my mouth. More cum spritzed my tongue and I savored the taste, fastening my lips to my son's cock to suck out the rest of his seed. He jerked himself calmly and as the spurts slowed, I could feel all the little remnants of his essence oozing out into his mother's waiting mouth.

I held my son's cum in my mouth until my orgasm dissipated. I then stood and made a show of swallowing. "Gulp ahh!"

Abram took me in his arms and kissed me. "How the hell could someone stay so far away from you?" he marveled. I shrugged and smiled.

We finished washing as the water was growing cool. The rest of the day was spent in languorous, lovely relaxation. We slept together again that night. A tangle of naked, familial flesh.

The next morning, my guilt returned, but noticeably weaker. I knew exactly how to push it farther away. I roused my slumbering son with a loving, slow, sensual blowjob. I wasn't really all that horny either. It was more like I was putting on a show for the angel on my shoulder. This is what I do now. I suck my son's dick first thing in the morning. Go away or watch me swallow his cum. The guilt faded back into the background of my consciousness and I grew horny enough to mount Abram and receive a healthy volume of cum in my pussy.

The following days were easy. My son and I made love, tasted one another and showered together every day. Clothing became optional at best. Sex was mandatory though. Our relationship deepened too, though we both admitted it was rather difficult to find where the healthy cross-section between lovers and a mother-son relationship was. He joked that the intersection was probably somewhere between his cock and my pussy. I laughed and he fucked me again. I was in a hazy, murky, morally bankrupt version of heaven. I more than loved it.

Until the day Rick showed up.

I awoke to his phone call. "Guess where I am," he'd said when I sleepily answered the phone.

"Rick?" I said. "Uh, where?"

"East Hudson Ave."

My heart paced and I jolted upright, tossing my son's arm off my naked body. "You're where!?" East Hudson Ave was the cross street at the end of our block.

"Hhu, now turning on Anchester." He sounded excited. I went dead silent. My heart actually hurt it was beating so fast. I got up out of my son's bed, left his room and closed his door.

"Baby?" he said. "You hear me? I'm home!"

"I- uh, oh my God...." I had no Idea what to say. I skulked to my room as if he was watching me and slipped on my robe. "Your...you're here?"

He confirmed and I went to the front room to peek out of the window. It was true. My husband was getting out of an SUV. He grabbed several large bags from the back of the truck and strolled toward the door. I was breathing heavily, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to mentally search our house for evidence of the exceedingly sinful behavior I'd been engaged in the last couple of weeks.

I absently opened the door. Rick dropped all his bags, a huge grin on his face as he walked forward and embraced me. "Babe! God, I missed you so much!"

I realized I was still holding the phone to my ear and then dropped it, embracing my husband. I hugged him back and closed my eyes. When I did, I didn't see black. All I saw was my son. His naked body in the shower. His long, lean cock. Images of his face between my legs as I gazed at him past my breasts. I could almost feel him inside me as visions of his enamored eyes flashed in my mind, watching me as I rode him.

The guilt that I thought had dissolved into nothing resurfaced, filling the pool of my heart. The pain of my sin had seemed as far away as the moon. As my husband squeezed me, I felt like the moon had crashed into my house, demolishing the decadent world I had fabricated with my son. It was Judgment Day.

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks.