Catching Mother at Christmas

Beverly cried out when she saw the viscous fluid squirt from her son's cock. "My darling boy!" she called. "Look at you."

"Mum," Philip managed to grunt. "I ..." But he couldn't speak, the sensation of jetting spunk curtailed his ability to articulate anything other than a low, guttural moan. Semen pulsed from him, squirt after squirt of the stuff that rained down onto the worn carpet and dribbled over his hand and wrist.

All the time his seed pumped from his pulsing cock Philip kept his gaze locked on his mother's face. He saw her expression twist from surprise at his appearance into a mask of sensual delight. His mother grimaced as though in pain while she came and came, her fingers swirling between her legs. Beverly stared back at her son, her eyes heavy-lidded and glazed with lust, and Philip thought that she'd never looked more beautiful. At that moment, with both of them caught in the heat of their respective orgasms, their emotions melded, both of them poised on the brink incest.

For her part Beverly craved her son's long penis. Philip's cock was perfect -- big and thick and gnarled -- and she could see herself riding it. In her mind's eye Beverly imagined her cunt opening as her son held himself upright and she lowered herself onto him. She could see herself shamelessly offering her teats to him, holding her breasts in her palms as she invited her own son to suck her nipples. Her orgasm rolled on and on, apparently without end while Beverly held Philip's eyes with her own intense gaze. She watched his face as he came, glancing briefly at the cascade of semen pouring out of her son before, while her body thrilled at the sight of his outpouring, Beverly concentrated on reading his expression.

Beverly saw the wanting in Philip's face writ large as he stared back at her.

Eventually the fire burning between them cooled. Mother and son continued to gaze at each other, neither daring to move, both not quite able to believe what had just occurred.

Finally, blinking and gasping, panting for breath, Philip gurgled a single word. "Mum?" he said in a voice strangled with emotion.

With her exposed breasts trembling on her heaving chest, while she lay sprawled and indecently exposed, Beverly managed to sigh: "Philip. My darling boy ..."

"No, Mum," Philip gasped. "What have we done?" Beverly saw the anguish behind her son's eyes in the moment before, as he tucked his dribbling cock into his trousers, Philip fled the room.

***

Beverly's fingers scrabbled at the seat beneath her as she heaved herself upright and, with her skirt falling to its normal decent level at her knees, she rushed in her son's wake. She found him in the kitchen, sitting with his elbows on the table, head in his hands.

Seeing him there Beverly paused, her next move uncertain. A strong and undeniable maternal urge to go to her son and hold him moved Beverly's feet until she stood next to the young man.

His mother's touch on his shoulder brought a groan of anguish from Philip.

"Philip?" Beverly whispered.

"I came home hoping I'd find you doing it again, Mum," Philip confessed, his head bowed towards the table top. "I wanted to see you doing it. When I saw you yesterday I thought you were so beautiful. I couldn't help myself, Mum; I got an early finish again because the lorries can't get in, and I hurried home wanting, hoping to catch you again. And when I saw you," Philip muttered, "you looked so lovely, so ... sexy, that I couldn't stop myself from touching myself. I had to ... to ... you know."

"I know, darling. I saw. And when I saw you standing there ... holding your lovely penis ..."

To hear his mother speaking directly about his cock sent a thrill of desire through Philip. Despite his intense climax of only moments earlier, he felt the stir inside his trousers.

Beverly sighed and rubbed the palm of her hand over her son's back. She swallowed hard and continued. "I'm just saying that I understand, Philip. We both got caught in the heat of the moment. I understand, darling, I really do. I know what you felt when you saw me, I felt it too. When I saw the look on your face, and when I saw how big you are ..." Beverly sighed again. "Oh, Philip, when I saw your big cock I wanted it." Her face burned with shame and embarrassment as she confessed her disturbing carnal desires to her son. But Beverly, determined to make Philip understand he wasn't to blame for what happened between them, ploughed on regardless. "It's understandable, Philip. It might be wrong in some people's eyes, my baby, and who knows, perhaps they're right, maybe we've done wrong ... I'm sure I don't know. But we've done it, and both of us have to take responsibility. But nobody needs to know, Philip. Why should they? It's something that's happened between us; I don't quite know what's happened, how we got here, it's all very confusing."

And Philip agreed, his mother had it right on that score, it was confusing in extremis. Tortured by what he'd done, the level to which he'd sunk, appalled at the way he'd actively sought his mother out, hoping she'd be half naked and masturbating, Philip swivelled his face to look at her, determined that the next words from his lips would be to recant his actions, to vow that never again would he allow himself the weakness -- as he saw it -- of his voyeurism. What had passed between them had been a momentary aberration that couldn't ever be repeated. It was wrong, so very wrong to look upon his own mother's flesh in that way. It was a sin to desire her as he did, and Philip, resolute in his decision to put this episode behind them forever, swivelled to face Beverly.

But, when he turned to look at his mother, Philip found himself confronted by her bare breasts.

Beverly had, in her headlong rush to follow Philip, forgotten to cover herself; her breasts. Those icons of feminine beauty that so fascinated a man's eye, big and heavy and round, tipped with pink teats so long and thick hung suspended only a few inches from Philip's face.

His resolve dissolved and Philip, with a groan of desire that came from some primordial, instinctive place within him, reached up slowly and cupped Beverly's weight in his palms.

"Beautiful," he sighed before taking a nipple into his mouth.

Beverly gasped. "My darling," she breathed, stroking her son's head.

They joined together on the settee. Beverly lay back and opened her legs to her son. Philip, with his underwear and trousers around his shins since his desire had been too hot, too urgent to remove his clothing, clambered onto the seat between his mother's thighs.

Beverly looked into her son's eyes and reached between their bodies. Taking the length of him, iron-hard and so thick in her fist, she held the bulb of the cock-head at her opening. "Are you sure?" she murmured, looking into Philip's eyes.

Philip replied with a jerk of his hips so the blunt dome nudged Beverly's body.

"Put it in," Beverly whispered.

When she felt her body splitting, opening up to accept the pulsing length of her son, Beverly arched her back and succumbed to the living entity that filled her so completely.

"Mum," Philip groaned.

"Love me," Beverly responded. "Move inside me, darling. Love your mother."

Three

Christmas morning and it seemed like the whole country woke beneath a blanket of snow. Outside in the narrow street the virginal covering lay pure and undisturbed. Philip stirred and blinked over the covers of his mother's bed. When he looked for her next to him he found her gone.

Philip threw back the thick eiderdown and, braced against the fist of frigid air, stepped out of bed. Fully awake now in the cold air, still naked, Philip hurried along the landing towards the stairs. As he descended he heard the sound of his mother on the level below. He found her in the parlour, naked like himself as she knelt in front of the Christmas tree. Philip stepped quietly into the room and felt the welcoming warmth of the early fire his mother had lit earlier that morning. Beverly rose to her feet unaware that her son was in the room with her.

Philip looked at his mother's comfortable body, examining the shape of her from behind. His cock swelled at the sweep of her curves. Aroused at her narrow waist and swell of her hips, Philip moved quickly towards Beverly, the jib of his erection waggling heavily in front of his body.

"You naughty boy," Beverly giggled when she felt Philip's hard-on nudge the small of her back. She held her son's forearms where they encircled her waist as he drew her back against his body. "Is that a present for me?" she added. "Do you have something big and hard for me to play with on Christmas morning?" Beverly swivelled within Philip's embrace. Her breasts squashed against his broad chest while she grinned up into his face and held the length of him in her hand. Beverly's fingers curled around the girth of her son's cock, not quite meeting as they encircled the thickness at the root of him. Desire flooded between Beverly's legs while she stroked her son's erection -- he was almost as long as her forearm; a cubit's length of lovely cock from palm to the crook of her elbow.

"I want to taste you," Beverly muttered into her son's ear. "Let me suck you, darling."

Philip pushed his fingers through his mother's thick, dark hair as the warm heat of her mouth engulfed the head of his cock. He groaned when her tongue tickled the sensitive frenulum, the taut banjo string on the underside of his dick.

"You're too big for my mouth," Beverly chuckled as she stroked her fist along Philip's gristle. "My jaw will ache for days if I try to suck this thing."

"Lie down, Mum," Philip muttered, still a little shy despite the time he'd spent tumbling with his mother beneath the covers of her bed.

"What are you going to do?" Beverly asked, her eyes shining. Her insides melted and her sex clenched with excitement. She knew what Philip had in mind and she eagerly complied with his instruction, laying back on the familiar sofa to open her legs to him.

An arterial burst of lust surged through Philip as he gazed at his mother, her legs wide so the hot scarlet slash of her cunt showed pink and wet through the thick pubic bush. He bent towards her, kneeling on the carpet to dab his tongue at her core.

"Lick me, darling," Beverly gasped. "Kiss me down there. Suck my clit and lick me. Finger me. I'm so wet for you. Love me like a good son loves his mother."

Philip slurped at his mother's sex until the woman gasped and grunted, her body jack-knifing at the waist while her legs and arms stiffened and she clawed at the cushions and her son's shoulders.

"I'm coming," Beverly cried out, "I'm coming on your face, Philip."

Next came the bit Philip found the most exciting. He found licking his mother's sex to be arousing, and fucking into her with his cock, feeling her clenching around his girth, excited him beyond measure, but what he really loved was the kissing. For him, kissing his own mother with a lover's mouth, pushing his tongue between her lips and feeling her tongue slide with his was more erotic than any other act. It felt so intimate to kiss her that way, so much more illicit and taboo than the fucking.

As they kissed, Philip slid into his mother's body, the place now familiar to him, not like the first few times he'd fumbled and prodded, clumsily attempting to find the core of her with his blind-eyed penis. Now, with the ease of a few hours practice, Philip slid easily into her in one, long, slick glide.

"I love you, Mum," Philip groaned, his lips brushing hers before they kissed again.

"And I love you too, Philip," Beverly grunted. "But I'm in the mood for hard fucking. Give it to me. Fuck me with that lovely cock."

Philip understood his mother's need. So far their love-making had been soft sighs and tender kisses, both of them exploring the wonder they'd discovered now that the resistance had faded. Both mother and son had accepted their feelings and had succumbed to the inevitable. For Philip, now he'd renounced the guilt and embraced the new, fresh and exciting love, a different kind of love, granted, but love nevertheless, he found the world a more welcoming place. It seemed that his attitudes and feelings had been reborn, like the pristine world beyond the window with its pure covering of snow. He knew that now was the time to release the purely physical aspect of the joining with his mother, and he eased himself up off her body to hold himself over her on straight arms.

Philip looked down and saw where his mother's body accepted his length. He then looked into her eyes and saw a glint of devilment there. Beverly's bottom lip was between her teeth as she half-smirked a challenge to her son, and Philip felt the undiluted burst of lust swell his cock.

"Hard?" he questioned, his head tilting to one side.

"Fucking hard," Beverly nodded. "Do your worst. Fuck me with that big cock. Make your mother scream ... Be a good boy."

Philip's hips jerked as he stabbed at his mother's sex. "Like that?" he asked when, with a groan and a wince of pleasure, Beverly closed her eyes and grinned with the pure pleasure of being stuffed with male gristle.

"More," Beverly gurgled. "Please. More."

Watching his mother's breasts roll, Philip began to thrust harder. Beverly grunted with each jab of his thick cock. Her face twisted into a mask of concentration while her teeth clenched and she urged the young man to fuck into her faster and deeper. Beverly's toes tingled when she felt her climax begin its inexorable bubbling deep in the visceral depths. She jerked her hips upwards to meet the savage downstrokes, her body opening at each thrust of the spongy yet unyielding bludgeon of her son's cock-head as he plunged and drilled deeper and deeper.

"You're so hot, Mum," Philip gasped, so wet and hot around me."

"Well you're fucking me deeper than I've ever known," Beverly snarled through her tightly clenched teeth. "Your big fucking cock is touching me in places I didn't even imagine existed. Oh, fuck, Philip ... it feels so good. You feel so marvellous inside me. I never want it to end. Love me, darling. Fuck me. Make me come!"

Philip's eyes rolled in their orbits while he gasped and moaned. He desperately tried to hold the surge of his climax at bay while, at the same time, he jabbed and thrust, stuffing more of his cock deep into Beverly's voracious cunt. He wanted to satisfy his mother in every way; he couldn't refuse her, he loved her too much to deny her the climax she sought. But, paradoxically, as he strove towards satisfying the writhing snarling woman beneath him, Philip came close to letting himself go.

"Do you want to come, baby?" Philip heard his mother gasp.

"I'm ... It ..." Philip clamped his mouth closed, concentrating on holding himself in check. "I can't hold it back much longer, Mum," he groaned finally.

Beverly pushed her hips up to take her son further into her body. "Let it go," she said. "Oh, fuck, Philip, just let it go. If you come then I'll come too. Do it, my darling. Pour it into me. Let me feel your cock spit all your spunk into me."

They came together. Philip grunted and gasped, his semen spurting into Beverly while the woman herself convulsed and clamped her arms around her son to draw him on top of her. Philip's semen pumped and squirted, drenching his mother's cervix until Beverly felt flooded with the stuff. Jizm squelched and farted between the couple as Philip's girth expelled their combined juices, the sheer size of him displacing the goo that filled his mother.

"Happy Christmas, Philip," Beverly crooned when, with a final sigh, Philip's weight settled on top of her. She wrapped her son in a tight embrace, her arms around his body while her legs held him around the waist.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Mum," Philip panted.

And they were both certain that, for them, it would be a merry Christmas and a happy new year.