Faeophobia - Do-Me Dust Pt. 02

Carl might have objected--formed some manner of protest--but before he could, she stretched languidly, covering his prone form like a voluptuous blanket, and wrapped gentle fingers around the tumescent outline in his boxers.

The contact was as electric as it was unexpected. Carl was still at full mast from the dream and almost bucked Clarita off him in shock. She wasn't heavy, and he had sufficient strength, but a sense of erotic gravitas kept them trapped together.

The redheaded sexpot with the voice of his mother cooed appreciatively while she stroked him, slow and lovingly, through the worn-thin underwear.

"You're so thick and hard, Cariño. Does it hurt? Let Mama comfort you. Let her perform her motherly duties."

You--you mustn't... stop, Mom." He had meant to say it as two distinct rejections of her advances, but the words blurred together in the confusion of taboo touch and a sleep-addled mind.

With a throaty purr, Clarita relaxed atop him, her moist cunt settling an inch short of his parted lips, fogging him in the perfume of her arousal. Her smooth, teasing motions built in confidence to a firm, heavenly pumping rhythm.

"Don't worry, baby. Mama won't stop until you feel better. It's so large and girthy. I'm jealous of your future wife." She whispered, tugging down Carl's waistband to unbridle his engorged length. "This will be her property someday, but tonight, it belongs to your Mama."

An exhalation of warm air tickled his stiffness; then Clarita's tongue painted a line of wet heat up the sensitive underside from balls to twitching tip. It dragged a moan from him, resonating with her own satisfied noises as if she had tasted divinity.

"Mom, please... we can't!" He babbled into her snatch. The dribble of her juices had graduated to a steady flow across his stubbly chin. "It's wrong and--"

Then, something hit Carl's stomach with all the volatility of a detonated depth charge. Blood surged through his restrained body, infusing muscle and ligaments with ferocious vigor. His cock lurched, and his balls rumbled like two diesel engines roaring to action.

"--AAAAGH!! Fuck!" He cried, his mother quivering above him.

"Ooh, Cariño! Your words... your hot breath feels incredible on Mama's pussy." She whimpered, smearing her drenched crotch over his mouth and cheeks. "Please, keep talking... Mmmhmm~! Comfort your poor Mama too."

"Hmmnph!"

Clarita attacked him again, buttery soft hands and clever tongue lavishing his shaft in forbidden affection. The full, supple curves of her hourglass figure melted into him. Heavy, bulging tits pressed flat against his naked abs. The squirming of her flaring hips and generously rump caused the miniature leather skirt to ride up to her tinyfied waist, exposing aches of round olive flesh.

Her slightly sweet, mildly spicy flavor flipped a switch in Carl's souped-up libido. He clamped powerful arms over her thick thighs and dove in tongue first. Lapping and slurping. Hunting voraciously for more of the tangy nectar.

"Aaah, Dios mío! Your tongue is inside me! My hunky boy is so kind to his poor Mama." Clarita crooned between adoring kisses and gentle sucks on his turgid crown. "So large and... Haaa! M-meaty... I think it's growing bigger! My fingers won't wrap all the way around anymore."

Carl could sense it too. Through some manner of penile proprioception, he could feel the dense tissue swelling and lengthening in her stroking grasp. As though the rush of blood southward was adding extra capacity to accommodate the sudden migration.

His fingers sank into her abundant asscheeks, spreading them apart and opening her further for his lingual explorations. She wailed and tremored in raptures when he savaged her budding clit and soaked slit.

"Yes, baby, YES! Right there. Don't stop. Please don't stop. You're going to make Mama cum so hard... Hyaaaaa~!"

Bronzed thighs squeezed Carl's skull like a vise as Clarita doused him in orgasmic honey. Her luscious body spasmed and seized, crimson curls flailing as she rode her son's handsome face to sinful fruition, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Quaking with blissful aftershocks, she giggled drunkenly, bending forward to inhale a healthy glob of pearly precum gathering on his bulbous tip. She groaned at the scent of his masculine musk, vacuuming it down and smacking her pillowy lips.

"Goodness, Cariño. You treat your old Mama too well. Look at you. Still so huge and stiff. I will attend to you properly now as a loving mother should."

Spinning to face him, Clarita smiled proudly at her boy--now a man in truth. Sitting astride his lap, she slowly unfastened the hooks of her burgundy corset and let it fall away. Her enormous coppery breasts fell free, hardly dropping at all, capped with pronounced cappuccino peaks beaded with creamy lactate.

"Oh fuck, Mom. You're gorgeous." Carl growled, his greedy hazel eyes consuming her like a smorgasbord of sexual wonderment. His throbbing manpole, nestled in her jiggling butt cleavage, spurted a sticky wad up her arching spine. "I want more than a taste of you."

"Hush, baby. I know. Mama is going to take good care of you. She cannot resist any longer." Clarita husked, gripping him by the root and rising on her knees to notch him at her sopping entrance. "Now lay back. Relax. Mama will do all the work, okay?"

She leaned down and ran her moist tongue along his muscular chest, lashing around a tight nipple on the journey to his nectar-slathered lips. They kissed passionately, drinking deep of each other for a timeless moment before she lowered herself down onto him with torturous slowness.

"There's no need to worry. Cum whenever you like, my darling son." She gasped as Carl's massive cock breached her hungry hole. He groaned in horny harmony, thrusting desperately upwards. "Ah, Carlos! You're splitting your poor Mama apart on your giant dick!"

"Jesus, Mom... you're hotter and tighter than hell!"

"You're entering me... aaah! That amazing cock will ruin Mama's pussy forever!" Clarita sobbed with unfettered desire, filled to bursting with his ginormous manhood. "I've been dreaming of this. It's stirring up my insides. You feel too good... hrnnnh~! You're rubbing against Mama's womb!"

Carl's hands latched onto her huge new tits as she rocked and bounced atop him. His fingers sank into the cushiony flesh, his titanium-hard rod spearing into her smooth belly. They grunted and groaned like feral beasts, driven half-mad with illicit lust, their overheated bodies crashing violently together.

"I can feel it... Aaah! Incredible. So hot and good inside me! Ha-harder... Pound Mama harder, baby!" Clarita begged, swiveling her broad hips and grinding on his base. "She wants to every solid inch of you!"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

Carl didn't know how much more he could take of the sex-crazed nympho spewing out filth in his mother's voice. Her silky pussy walls squeezed and pulled each time he buried himself in her clingy depths as though to trap him there. Her spectacular rack jiggled heavily in his palms, stiff nipples leaking white fluid down his forearms.

"Christ, you're leaking milk?" He exclaimed, pinching a puckered teet to coax out a cream squirt. It splattered across his chest. "You are! You're leaking actual goddamn milk!"

"I know, Cariño, I know. Haaah! Mama can't wait to nurse you again. Feeding her strong, virile boy makes Mama feel... Mmhmmm~... so naughty!"

If his plunging cock weren't already at critical levels of stiffness, the sight of the obviously fertile, cum-starved goddess riding him like a demented pogo stick would have launched Carl into orbit.

Her gorgeous face was contorted with agonized arousal. Puffy, gold-flecked lips fixed in a rictus grin of carnal need as she smashed her child-bearing hips and spankable rear down on him with bruising force.

"Deeper, baby, deeper! Oooh... Mama wants you to erupt straight into her womb." Clarita panted, brushing long, crimson curls out of her bloodshot eyes. "You can do that for me, can't you? Paint Mama's empty womb with your molten, manly seed!"

She planted her fists on his shoulders, pushing down with all her considerable heft, massaging and milking Carl's rigidity in her slick, pumping channel. Smothering him with her massive lactating tits.

"Hnnph..."

That was the final straw. With a muffled cry, his hyperactive balls clenched, then unleashed a river of sizzling spunk into the buxom sex-kitten. It poured into her like a busted fire hydrant, and a torrent of her slippery juices gushed in response.

"CAAARINNOOO!!" Clarita wailed, her pretty head lolled, drooling tongue dangling loose. "Thank you, baby! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Carl couldn't speak, buried in soft, creamy goodness. Muscles went limp as he shot rope after sticky rope of potent jizz inside his mother. Darkness encroached at the edges of his vision, offering the young man an escape from the insanity of his present reality.

He cast it away with a vigorous shake of his swimming skull.

"Mmmm, that was just what Mama needed." Clarita sighed, shifting herself backward to nuzzle affectionately into the crook of Carl's neck. Somehow she managed to keep his stubborn stiffness nestled in her overstuffed snatch despite the change in position. "You're such a kind and attentive son, Carlos. Comforting your lonely Mama and fucking her so full with your wonderful monster dick."

He pulsated inside her, despite the fatigue leadening his prone form.

"Dios mío, you're still hard after all that?" She covered her mouth in shock and looked away, blushing shyly. "I suppose we could go again... if you can forgive your poor Mama's sinful desires."

Clarita nibbled on his collarbone as her lush hips started to shift, gyrating in small ecstatic circles. Carl growled out a wordless reply, sucking a fat nipple into his mouth to quench a sudden thirst.

________________

Carl lay on his side with his mother in his arms. A heavy teet between his lips and hips thrusting lethargically as they indulged in a slow cuddle-fuck.

"That's right, baby. Drink as much as you wish. Your Mama will always have more to feed her hunky boy."

The evening had turned into night as they went at each other like bunnies hopped up on Ritalin. Only after fucking his mother raw in the shower--soapy bodies slapping together under the spray and steam--had he spotted the empty takeout container.

By then, Carl was too lost in an animal frenzy of reckless rutting to care or stop. A distant part of him knew, come morning, there would be music to face and a piper to pay. But that seemed an age away, and right now, there was a beautiful insatiable angel in his arms, lavishing him with love, affection, and no small amount of her titty cream.

The long, smooth leg hooked over his waist tugged him all the way in as Clarita shuddered through another soulful climax, bathing the sodden bedsheets with another dose of spicy nectar. The mattress beneath them squelched like a soaked sponge as they coupled.

"Mmmm, Cariño. You make Mama feel so good." She sighed, clutching him close. Her squirting snatch convulsed around his throbbing girth. "Like a real woman again. Not a lonely, dried-up husk of my younger self struggling to get by. You have breathed new life into this old lady."

Disengaging from her breast, Carl met his mother's adoring stare. Her brilliant crimson hair shrouded their entwined bodies like a cloak of the softest silk, and her bright hazel eyes showed nothing but a heady blend of pride and desire for him.

A corkscrew of guilt twisted his gut.

"It's not real, Mom." The confession tumbled out unbidden. "The leftovers I brought home, those you ate, were laced with magic from the party I waitered last night. That is why you look and feel so different."

"A bruja curse?" Clarita frowned but didn't pull away, locking his hardness firmly inside her quivering quim. "You wouldn't--"

"No, no. I think it's Fae... sex magic? It's difficult to explain. But the effects are temporary. We'll be our regular selves again tomorrow. I'm very sorry. You were never meant to eat them."

Carl watched as comprehension settled in before concern, and then an unreadable expression worked across his mother's stunning face. She reached out a finger to rest upon his chin, wiping away a stray droplet of milk.

"My love for you has always been real, baby. No magic could replicate that." She said sternly, then leaned in to kiss his forehead. "These changes and the feelings though--the fierce passion and energy--Mama would be lying if she said she wouldn't miss them. It has been lonely with your father away so often, and tonight was a reminder of the wilder days of my youth."

Clarita slipped the milky digit between her pouting lips and moaned when his cock lurched within her. A playful giggle eased the tension.

"Really? You're not upset?" Carl gaped as she began to rock her hips and put his grumbling balls on notice. "Mom... Mama, if you keep doing that, I'm gonna--"

"Shhh, Cariño. Relax and let Mama spoil her big, strapping boy." She purred, pussy coiling around his steely length. "Morning is still hours away, and I crave more of your manly touch. Love me, comfort me, ravish me, and trust in heaven to handle tomorrow."

"Oh shit." Carl gripped her waist and started hammering into his mother's welcoming wetness. "Mama, I fucking love you!"

She cooed in delight and pressed her mouth to his ear with a teasing whisper...

"Your Papa won't return for another week. Hmmm, perhaps you can find more magical treats for us to share?"

God help him; only a single thought flashed through Carl's lust-drunk mind before he filled her with another boiling eruption of incestuous seed.

What was the name of the frat douche's dealer again?

________________

"Apparently, he calls himself Fin. The physical description they gave is short, skinny, and..." Captain James Sterling paused to quote verbatim from the printed report. It barely covered half a page, double-spaced. "...kinda nerdy. That's all we could get before the Beta Theta Fi lawyers arrived."

Dean Chaumers glowered at him from behind his expansive mahogany desk; hands steepled in front of a hawkish beak of a nose, cold iron rings gleaming dully on several pudgy fingers.

The dean's office exuded authority and professionalism. Situated in the heart of the university, it was a monument to the man's intellectual vanity and academic ambition. The entrance, marked by polished wooden doors, led to a modest yet distinguished space. The desk commanded the room, its surface adorned with neat stacks of papers and a gleaming nameplate. Behind him, shelves lined the wood-paneled walls, housing volumes of scholarly works and journals.

A pair of leather armchairs faced the desk, but James hadn't been invited to sit.

"And how, pray tell, does that help us narrow the field of suspects, Captain?" The Head of School snarled. "Have you toured our esteemed campus recently? Other than the dubious moniker, you've maybe identified thirty percent of our male enrollees. Very helpful."

The dripping sarcasm cut at James sharper than any knife. He wasn't a detective, simply the head of a team of glorified mall cops. The rank of Captain was a job title, not an actual honorific. Nobody would be pinning medals on his chest for escorting drunken coeds back to their dorms in a golf cart.

"This could be a matter better suited for the local PD, sir." He hazarded, standing at parade ground rest. Feet apart with hands clasped behind his back. "Drug offenses fall squarely within their jurisdiction. Magical or otherwise."

"No police." Chaumers sputtered, clambering to his feet. "Madison University pays you and your... minions to handle these problems discreetly. The last thing we need is our academic reputation dragged through the mud because you couldn't keep a lid on a small drug scandal. Do your damn job and find the culprit spreading this... this..."

"Do-Me Dust, sir." James provided helpfully when the Dean floundered.

"Ugh, how vulgar. Bring me the culprit, Captain, or I will be forced to replace you with someone who can. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. Loud and clear."

________________

End of Part Two.

Full credit goes to author XXXecil for creating the Faeophobia Universe and being an all-around amazing wordsmith. I wouldn't be writing if not for their inspiration.