Carnal Corps Ch. 01

"I bet your Mom masturbates thinking about your cock, taking it up her pussy, feeling your hands on her tits."

I moved his hand to my braless breast. His fingers bumped against my throbbing nipples; I shuddered and moaned.

Ross gulped, his stomach growled, his eyes were unfocused. He was drifting in the same sexual fog that had enveloped me, obscuring everything but his raging libido.

"Pretend its your Mommy's tit. Squeeze."

He did, barely.

"Harder, she won't break."

He did, not hard enough.

"Harder, run your thumb over my nipple."

His thumb dragged across the bud, drive it into the tit-flesh. I let out a animal growl.

"So, do you think about your mommy when you play with yourself?"

Ross was watching the outline of his hand work my breast. I moved his other hand inside my pyjamas, led it to my free breast.

"Do you?"

His voice was subdued and sodden with lust. "Yes."

"Do you come?"

"Yes."

Was it true? Was he saying it to please me? Was he making it up as he went along? Did it matter?

"Tell me more, tell me about jerking off to your Mommy."

"When I play with my dick, sometimes, well sometimes there are pictures of her in my head."

I placed a finger under his chin and tilted his head up. I kissed him. There was a jolt between my legs. I took his jaw between my fingers, squeezed. His lips parted. I moved my tongue inside, languidly explored his mouth. His hands tightened on my breasts - it felt so good - and his tongue responded to mine. I fondled his erection through his gym shorts: big, nice and hard, plum-shaped head. His testicles were large and swollen. My pussy gushed.

I ended our kiss. "Nice cock, very nice cock."

Ross' eyes closed; he focused on my hand. His cock throbbed with each of his breaths. I dragged a finger up its length, it was hard and thick and long. He opened his eyes and watched his hands explore, squeeze, knead, trace the contours and curves of my breasts. I undid the final buttons of my pyjama top. It fell open, fully exposing my chest.

"Mom, your nipples, they're so hard."

"That's because of the way you touch them."

I pulled his penis free of his shorts and stared, enraptured by my son's over-sized tool. It had been years since I'd seen it; I'd all but forgotten he wasn't circumcised. A giddy smile formed on my face.

"It's beautiful, long and thick. I had no idea my baby boy had such a mouth watering cock."

The words had their intended effect. Ross' penis pulsed; it became even more engorged with blood. I pulled the foreskin away; the reddish purple color of the head deepened, a clear shiny liquid bubbled out. His cock pulsed again, more dribbled out. He shifted his position, his cock swayed before my grateful eyes.

My mind was afalme. All the years with my husband, through all our games and role-plays, I'd never felt this sexually alive. My son's cock was perfect. I smeared pre-cum into the head. Ross groaned. The situation was out of control; I didn't care.

I returned to character. "You've been playing hard to get, haven't you. You've noticed me. You wanted me to see your cock. It's so happy it's dripping pre-cum. You should be proud. Your cock is wonderful; thick and hard, and the cockhead's huge. You've wanted me to know what a big beautiful cock you have, didn't you? You knew I'd be unable to resist."

I touched the tip, brought his pre-cum to my lips, licked it off my finger. His flavor was wild, exploding on my taste buds. A contented sigh slipped past my lips.

Ross stared at my mouth. "Do you like it?"

"It's delicious, a bit salty, slightly sweet, so very very yummy."

Using two fingers, I collected more and, with a flourish, plunged my fingers into my mouth, sucking off his juice. I smiled, conscious that my lips were shiny with his seed.

"Mom you look so sexy doing that."

I captured more, smeared it on my nipples. Electricity surged from my tits to my sopping pussy. I held up my breasts. "Come get some."

His lips drifted apart and with eyes half-closed he took an areola into his mouth, fervidly sucking on it. He feasted on my breasts with all the enraptured delight of a hungry baby; he loved eating his Mommy's tits. I shifted position and offered him my other breast. He paid it the same dreamy febrile attention. I moaned like a bitch in heat, loving it but there was something else I wanted. After several blissful minutes, my tits aflame, I pulled his head from my chest, kissed his mouth, bent forward until my face was inches from his cock.

I inhaled. His uncircumcised sex had a dark aroma, stronger and more masculine than his father. I took the shaft in my hand, tilted it towards my face, pulled the foreskin back. Juice dripped from the end. I rubbed it into the head with a finger, then slid the wet finger down the shaft. I squeezed.

Ross gasped, groaned, and a stream of pre-cum lept from his prick. I opened my mouth. The slippery cockjuice sprayed onto my tongue, then across my lips and down my chin.

Ross was transfixed. "I squirted into your mouth Mom. Did you like it?"

Then, before I could answer he sprayed again, his semen splashing on my cheek before I turned my head to capture the rest in my mouth. I frigged the shaft and another, larger, gush followed. Most made it past my lips, some splattered my nose and chin. I sat up and ran my tongue along my lips, savoring his taste. Ross stared at me. I opened my mouth, displaying the remnants of his seed.

"My god, you're delicious. Let's see if there is any more in that fat cock."

I swooped back down, kissed the cock-head, licked the piss-hole, gathering more fluid. Ross groaned, shivering when my lips encased the tip of his penis. I swirled my tongue around and around it.

I was a slave to my fuck-lust, propelled by desires I had no ability and no interest in controlling. I'd never dreamed of sucking my son's cock, now it was the most natural thing in the world. The head of his dick in my mouth, I cast my eyes up, looked into my son's face, frigged the shaft. Ross sighed, groaned, flexed his hips, moved his dick around inside my mouth. He reached through the open top of my pyjamas to my breasts, catching my nipples between his fingers. He was asserting himself, no longer the passive recipient of his mother's incestuous lust.

"Mom, your tits are beautiful, big and full and firm. Your nipples are so hard."

I let his cock slither from my mouth, yanked off my pyjama top, pulled him to my breasts. His open lips surrounded my areola; he lashed my nipple with his eager tongue. Adrenaline pumped into me, sexual energy unmoored me from any restraint morality might suggest. I wanted Ross to come in my mouth; I wanted him to experience that forbidden pleasure. I yanked his head from my breast.

"I need to suck your dick, I need you to come in my mouth."

I pushed Ross onto his back, knelt next to him, and dipped down, licked and suckled his hard prick.

"Mom you look so hot. Suck me Mom, drink my cum."

He tweaked a nipple. I groaned, grasped the base of his shaft, pumped on it, took more of him into my mouth. Ross started humping his tool into my face; I snorted each time the cock-head banged against the back of my mouth. We kept going until, gasping for air, I spit out his tool, took several deep breaths, kissed the cockhead, and placed Ross' hand on the back of my head. He understood. Holding my head in place, he drove his cock into my mouth, then entwined his fingers in my hair and moved my head in time with his hips My son, so shy and reticent a few days before, was face-fucking me. My libido soared. There were no restraints, no rules; Ross' cock and cum were the only thing that mattered.

Ross was jamming his thick dick into my mouth, taking me hard. Groaning again and again, I twisted my hand around the base of the shaft. His balls retracted; he was nearing the end. I shoved my head down, coughing when his cock-head lodged in the opening of my throat.

Concerned, Ross pulled my head from his dick. There was doubt in his eyes. Hag he gone too far? I needed to let him know he had not. I was, a cock-obsessed bitch, his cock-obsessed bitch, and what I needed was a mouthful of his cum.

"Please Ross, feed Mommy your cock, feed her your hot cum. She needs it. Shoot it into her mouth, make her swallow it, drown Mommy with it. Mommy wants a giant load. Be a good boy, shoot all your hot juicy cum into me, all the wonderful hot cum you have in your balls."

Ross grunted and pushed my hungry head back onto his dick. Pulling back his foreskin, I locked my mouth over the cock-head, sucked so my cheeks were concave, lashed his meat with my tongue. I pumped his shaft with one hand, fingered his heavy balls with the other. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth. I sucked with single-minded determination and soon his dick twitched and shook and pulsed and Ross, his entire body quivering, cried out, "Mom, I'm cumming," and a thick rope of semen jetted into my mouth, followed by a second heavier load. I was trying to swallow it all when a third wave of cum rocketed from his piss-hole. My cheeks bulging with his seed, Ross pushed my head down. Cum spilled from my mouth, coating his shaft.

Ross let go of my head. I sat up so Ross could watch his cum slide down my cheeks and chin, drip onto my tits. As it did so my I slid my hand up and down his dick's cum-coated length, keeping him hard.

"I love it, I love your cum in my mouth, in my stomach, on my face, sliding down my body. So delicious, so creamy. If I'd known you tasted like this, I'd have started sucking your cock years ago."

I leaned forward and kissed him, a deep soulful kiss. When I pulled away I, likcing my lips, stared at his erection.

"Ross, your cum is wonderful. I need some more. I need it in my cunt. Right now."

I laid down and shimmied out of my pyjama bottoms. Ross crawled between my legs and pressed his hips to mine. His cock slid over the face of my vagina. The look on his face was half-frustration, half-desire. My son was a virgin, unsure of how to get inside me. I took hold of his dick and inserted the cock-head in my cunt.

"Fuck me."

He lunged; our hips crashed together; he fitted me like a hand in a silken glove or a foot in a silk slipper; an orgasm crackled through my body.

"Eeeeeyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

I dug my fingers into his back.

"Fuck me son, fuck me."

My virgin son knew little about fucking, but he didn't need to know much. At first his penis rode high inside me. As we went on his cock went deeper and deeper. It felt like a completion of myself, an emptiness finally filled. My eyes rolled up in my head; I gripped him tight. A flame took hold, flared, became violent, could not be stopped. I cried out his name, wanted it never to end, begged him to never leae me.

Our fuck was unrestrained, wild, violent. He pounded into me, I pounded back. Driven by ungovernable desire, we drifted between reality and fantasy. The roles we'd adopted: older woman/younger man, mother/son, actor/actress, virgin/slut, consumed us, swaddled us in a miasma where we'd accept any rationalization that allowed us to serve the burning desires of our bodies, to satisfy a need so deeply felt it cared not for rational explanation.

I gaving myself completely to my son. After his string of lovers, his lies, his use of Dad to prevent a divorce, I could no longer do so with my husband. But I could, and did, with Ross.

I fucked my son with unbridled passion, lust and desire run amuck. Orgasm after orgasm exploded within me; starting when his cock first reached the depths of my pussy, continuing in rapid succession, one after another. I was like a child at the beach, my body battered as ocean wave after ocean wave of pleasure tossed me around with insolent ease. I was guttural, obscene, graphic, begging Ross to fuck me, to dick me, to give me his cum. I asked him to make me his whore, his slut, his harlot. Ross joined in, repeating the prescribed names, proclaiming the delights of his mother's tight delicious twat, her beautiful fat tits, her cock-hungry body.

We fucked on and on. Ross' words devolved to sounds purely animalistic. I locked my legs around his ass and begged him to come, to pump his seed into me, to give me his spunk, to fill me up. He did, bellowing, blowing a final thick creamy wad of jism into his mother. I came with him, my mind a cascade of burning bright shimmering light. Then, my arms and legs quivering, my body shoved past its capacity to accept pleasure, I collapsed. I was exhausted; it felt like I had no bones. Ross rolled off of me. I held him, told him I loved him, told him what he meant to me. Too weak to move, spent, satiated, we were both soon asleep.