How I Fucked My Mother & My Sister

*** The following is a sequel to "How I Had Sex With My Mother." Thank you to everyone reading my stories! ***

Outside, it was a quiet, crystal-clear summer night. Easing back in my swivel chair, I took a breather from work and glanced out my bedroom window. The sky was full of flickering stars. A crescent moon hung like a sickle. My gaze trailing lower, I saw the starshine brilliantly illuminating the outline of the river's rocky shore.

The river itself, though, was muddy, turgid, and choppy; its currents moving fast. Watching it surge into the darkness, it almost looked like a torrent of hot fudge.

My mind had been choppy, too, recently. I'd been experiencing passing moments of doubt, with feelings of shame crystallized in my memory. I'd had sex with my mother. Moreover, I loved it. Every second of it. Did that make me a bad person? Was I an asshole? Did I take advantage of a lonely housewife? It was the suddenness of the stop, the immediate halt of our illicit relations that'd made my mind race with questions, plaguing me with these execrable thoughts.

Streetlights in the distance fell yellow over a road leading up into a nearby chain of mountains. The streetlights cast shadows that appeared almost as apparitions, and I considered taking off into the mountains, riding a motorcycle off into the hills, and renting a cabin, just escaping for a spell to clear my mind, recharge my batteries.

It was during this unsettling introspection that my phone vibrated, rattling my desk, interrupting my train of thought. Shifting in my chair, I turned to pick up the beeping device, flicked open the screen.

It was a message from my mom, saying: "Meet me in the kitchen..." The words punctuated by a kissing emoji. My guilt instantly evaporated, seeing that text. It was as if a monkey, the size of Godzilla, had been ripped off my back.

Oh shit! It's on! I told myself, fist pumping into the air.

Although I was elated, I must admit that I was surprised to receive this text. It'd been weeks since we last had a tryst. We'd been back to normal, or so I believed, as normal as things can be between a mother and son who'd been secretly having sex.

But I wasn't going to question it. My juices were flowing. My synapses were firing, and my cock grew hard the second I read those words on my phone's screen. Finally, I was going to have sex with my mom again! I'd been missing her touch, missing the pleasure of pushing my dick up inside her. Finally, we would be together again.

I hastily threw on a pair of sweats, a clean pair of wool socks, and then rushed downstairs.

In the kitchen sat my mom. On top of the kitchen table. She swung her beautiful face toward me as I entered the room, and her pouty lips curled into a devilish grin.

"Hey there," she purred and then parted her legs. She was wearing a rose-colored silk robe. And nothing underneath. Her shaved pussy on full display as I crept toward her and gazed downwards, soaking in the magnificent sight of her bald mound and puffy pink pussy lips.

I'd expected that she'd stand up and turn around, as she'd been doing during our prior erotic encounters. But no. She sat still. And then untied the knot holding her robe together and let the garment slip off her slender body, the robe pooling in a bunch behind her.

My mother was stark naked on the kitchen table. Unlike our previous dalliances, too, she was staring directly at me. Her big blue eyes on me like laser beams.

"Hey, Mom," I replied. I then quickly yanked off my shirt, socks and sweats, twisted down my boxers, stepped out of them, and let my fat, hard cock fly high in the crisp, climate-controlled air.

"I've been missing you. I've been missing this," I went on, and treaded toward and into the open gates of her spread legs. I clutched both her smooth thighs, then caressed them. My cock was so near her hot pussy that I could feel the simmer of its humidity.

Mom then did something she'd rarely done before, she grabbed my cock, took it in her small, soft hand and began to jerk it, gently. I responded in kind, cupped her pussy in one of my hands and tickled her clit, which had hardened and was sopping wet. Then I fingered her slowly, marveled at her pussy's firm fit. I'm not sure if Mom did Kegels or was naturally tight. Either way, her pussy was fucking incredible.

"I've been missing this too. Put it in me. I want you to come inside me. I want to feel it..." Mom whispered, pulling and guiding my cock to her slippery slit, moving my cock like a brush over her throbbing clit, and then pushing it downward and then up into her hot hole.

"Aaaah," she cooed. My dick penetrating her, pushing easily up inside her. It felt so right, too, being back in my mom's pussy. It felt so naughty but so right, standing in front of her, having sex with her like this, in the kitchen.

I began thrusting my cock into her, slowly but powerfully, my hips swinging forward. I'd been hanging my head low, enthralled, watching my fat dick pushing into her pussy. But then I lifted my gaze and Mom lifted hers too, and, for the first time, during sex, we made prolonged eye contact. Her eyes were bulging like I'd never seen them, and her jaw was dropped, her mouth like a big 0, and she started moaning, loudly, making guttural sounds, her chest heaving, her tits jiggling.

It was so hot staring into her gorgeous eyes as we had sex. Feeling my cock plunge deep inside her steamy cunt. Seeing how her face reacted to each thrust. I ran my hands all over her body too, probing every curve. Before, I'd only had her from behind, but having sex like this, I could truly appreciate every inch of her goddess-like body.

She again surprised me by pressing her face to mine and kissing me, deeply, our tongues tangling in a taboo tango. We must have kissed for nearly a minute, and it was another one of the hottest kisses I've ever experienced.

We broke our kiss and picked up the pace. Our sex becoming feral. I thrusted harder and harder, slid both my hands back over her voluptuous ass and gripped it, almost used it as a fulcrum, and leaned into her, and she hugged me closer, her pussy clamping tighter and tighter as I savagely fucked and stretched out her hot, wet pussy-hole.

My cock was a bundle of power, plowing into her, and her pussy was soaked, was creaming hard, and she cried out "cum in me, cum in me..." Hot damn! My mom was crying out like a fucking porn star!

Her cunt clamping me, her hysterical cries, and, oh, fuck, I let the breaking tides of euphoria surge forth, let the inevitable warm wave overtake me. Then I let it all loose, shot my load, in several huge bursts, straight into her. Slowing down, I pumped a couple more times, to empty out my cock and pack it in. Then I pulled out, looked down, with joy, at the sloppy creampie that was my mom's battered pussy.

We were both out of breath, wheezing like we'd run a 40-yard-dash. I expected my mom to get up from the table and dart off again. But she didn't. Instead, she tilted her head, threw her arms over my shoulders, and kissed me again. It was another erotic kiss, yet it was exiguous. She pulled back quickly and said, in a breathy voice, "Let's go to bed."

"Together?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow in surprise.

"Together," she replied, and she let me go, hoisted up and on her robe, got down from the table. Then I hurriedly scooped up and threw my clothes back on, and Mom took my hand and led me upstairs.

Into my parents' bedroom.

When we got up to my parents' bedroom, it was a little funny being in there, with my mom. Thinking that this is the place they slept together. At least this was where they figuratively slept together. At least sometimes. Whenever Dad wasn't away on business, sleeping in his office. Or too busy with my sister.

Mom told me to make myself comfortable, and I plopped down onto the massive king-size bed. The bedroom was absolutely insane, 600 or so square feet, with Italian marble flooring, teakwood-paneling on the walls, and an outrageous, 292-inch Samsung MicroLED TV, flanked by a sick Bose surround sound stereo system.

Mom undid her robe again, and I gawked at her naked body. Her curves were so sharp! It was as if she were carved from stone, as if she could be a statue in an art gallery. Her figure was that immaculate. Fuck, just the way she shifted her hips. How slender-waisted, how smooth-bodied, how elegant of posture she stood. How the soft golden glow of the bedroom's lighting fell on her milky skin. Wow! She truly was a fucking goddess!

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. Then she swung her gaze and smiled once she noticed me, enamored, frozen in place, studying every part of her naked form.

"You are so sweet. God, it's been so long since... I had a man, who looked at me that way," she said, blushing, her face turning red as ketchup.

I smiled back. "It's just, wow. You're so perfect looking, Mom. I'm sure there are men looking, but you don't notice. I've been looking for years."

"I know you have. Maybe I'm not paying attention to any other men. Aside from you."

"There's a lot of women, I'd bet, who are also looking...Your friends are hot, Mom, but not as hot as you. They must be jealous of your figure."

"No, no, no, we're past any of the catty, Real Housewives crap. My friends appreciate my figure. And I appreciate theirs. We share beauty and workout tips. Shelly especially. We go to the spa two or three times a week."

"Shelly is hot." I asserted, nodding my head slowly.

Mom turned and looked herself over in the full-length mirror next to the wardrobe. She ran her hands over her hourglass figure and pouted her lips, cocked her head to the side. Just seeing her move like that was mesmerizing.

Then, peering into the mirror, she looked over at me, and said, "Shelly sure is hot," and grinned a most guilty grin, like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Wait, Mom, you... and... Shelly? Please tell me that's, uh, something... Oh my God, I so want that to be... something..."

"It is. Shelly and I are close friends. Very close friends."

My cock rocketed back to life at the thought of my mom and Shelly, another uber-MILF, getting hot and heavy.

"But you said you hadn't had sex in 6 years?" I beseeched her, standing up and stepping toward her.

"Did I? I meant I hadn't been with a man in 6 years. Shelly and I, well, after afternoon cocktails, sometimes at the spa, in the jacuzzi room, we, well, are, erm, very friendly. Her husband is also an absentee. So, we take care of each other. It just sort of happened. You're not jealous, are you?"

"Fuck no, I'm not!" I practically yelled, stepping up behind her, taking her into my arms, kissing the nape of her neck. I lowered my sweatpants below my waist, unleashed my hard cock, and started to rub my cock along her hot crack. My stiffness poking into the crease of her soft, smooth, warm, jiggly ass. It felt so nice, probing around back there.

"Maybe Shelly can join us sometime," I whispered in Mom's ear.

"That can possibly be arranged. She thinks you're very handsome, says you look like Leo from the old Titanic flick," Mom said, still staring at me from the mirror.

"Really? Well, I think she is smoking hot. Not as hot as you, Mom. But still. She is hot. Smoking hot. Thick and sexy."

"Thick?"

"Full-figured, voluptuous, curves in all the right places."

"Ah..."

"Wait, isn't she your friend who's obsessed with the Titanic and everything about it?"

"Yup, that's her. She loves the movie. She's always talking about it. She's seen it maybe 200 times. It's ridiculous," Mom chortled and leaned her head back on my chest. Her soft hair tickled my skin, giving me a hot prickly rush.

"Hey, come to think of it, Shelly looks a little like Kate Winslet, doesn't she?" I quipped.

"A little, sort of. They both have the same hair color, same hairstyle," Mom said, crinkling her nose, chortling again. "I'm going to tell her you said that. I think she'll probably be flattered."

"Good. Shelly is hot. Invite her over to play sometime..."

Mom didn't answer that, just bit her lower lip, girlishly, and giggled.

Watching the image of myself, hugging my naked mom in the mirror, my cock burrowing into her buttcheeks, it brought home how real this whole situation was. And the thought of Shelly, the second hottest MILF in the neighborhood, joining Mom and me, holy fuck, that was enticing. I was feeling lucky as a lottery winner, standing there, hugging and holding my naked mom, my cock grinding into the cleft of her ass.

"You are a sweetheart, darling. We're going to have a lot more fun. But I need some beauty sleep now. I'm going to take a shower, freshen up, get ready for bed."

"Bed?" I repeated, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"Sleep, like the REM kind," Mom chuckled again, "don't worry, we'll have more fun later."

Mom twirled around, pecked me on the lips. Then tried to step away, but I kept her soft warm body in my tight grip.

Leaning toward her, I cooed in her ear, "Let's shower together."

Mom giggled and shot back, "Not now, because I know what would happen in there." Then she looked down at my hard cock, momentarily, went on, "I'm... Sort of sore, down there. You really pounded it tonight. I need to rest my pummeled pussy. You're an animal."

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you, Mom," I said, apologetically, narrowing my eyes and hugging her toward me, leaning my head on her shoulder, and pressing my cock to the heat of her shaved pussy mound.

"No, not at all! It was incredible," she whispered in my ear, "I just need to recuperate. I'll need my strength for tomorrow. When we do it again."

"With Shelly?"

"Ha! Maybe! But first I want more of you. All to myself."

Then Mom broke away from me, kissed me again, but this time slipped in her tongue. We had a brief but hot French kiss, and then she petted my dick, like a good dog, before she slipped off, escaped to the bathroom. As she stepped away, I could see her walking a little funny. I guess I really had pounded her hard.

My parents keep a small bar in the corner of their room, and as I pulled up my pants, I figured what the fuck, might as well help myself to a drink. So I went over there and poured a tall glass of gin, then opened the minifridge, took out an ice-cold bottle of tonic water and shook some in.

"Shaken not stirred," I always mumble to myself, in my goofiest Bond imitation, whenever I drink. I've long been a big fan of the Bond books and flicks. In my opinion, maybe only John le Carré could compete with Sir Ian Fleming when it comes to penning spy thrillers.

Then I disrobed, got naked, and slipped into bed, nestled under the silky sheets. Shit, my parents' bed is comfy, their mattress some type of soft, plush memory foam.

I flicked on the giant TV, sipped my cold gin and watched one of the Fast & Furious movies, enjoying the car chases and overabundance of shit exploding. Then Mom came out of the shower, dressed again in a bathrobe. This time a different one. A hot pink, silk one. She smiled at me as she slinked into bed, slipped into the covers, and cuddled up beside me. I was feeling a nice buzz already off the gin and was feeling even nicer with my super-hot mom all snuggled up to me, warming up the bed. God, the smell of her shampoo! It was a floral scent that was simply spellbinding.

Not long after, the Sandman came a-knocking, and I clicked off the TV and passed out, in Mom's warm arms. I can't remember having any dreams that night. But no dream, ever, could have compared to what transpired that evening.

When I awoke, I shifted my weight, saw my mom was already awake. She was sitting up in bed, staring at her phone, looking at fashion pics of famous actresses on Instagram.

"Good morning," I murmured, and I sat up in bed too, drunk with sleep, and I wiped my eyes. Then I leaned over and kissed my beautiful mom on her rosy cheek.

"Good morning to you," she replied and smiled my way. Her high-voltage smile shining at me with the power of a thousand suns. How radiant she was, in bed, first thing in the morning, no make-up or nothing. God, she was gorgeous!

"So it wasn't a dream, last night?" I asked, scooting back over, stretching out my arms and yawning.

"Nope. It wasn't," Mom said. She smiled, leaned over and gave me a more maternal kiss on the forehead. Then she returned to scrolling through her IG.

I'd noticed that when she's on her phone, she's almost always on IG, looking at pictures of famous actresses, fashion models. I wondered if maybe she missed acting and so I asked her about it.

"I do miss it," she told me, before clicking her phone closed, "and I sometimes wonder if I'd stuck with it, what would have happened..."

"Didn't you audition for Friends?"

"I did. A bit part, a customer in the coffee shop. But they gave it to a girl with bigger tits. I think she slept with the casting agent too."

"For what it's worth, Mom, you're way hotter than any of the girls from that show, way hotter than any movie star or model."

"Aw, you're sweet, honey, but I'm too old now for showbiz."

"You're never too old..."

"I am too old."

"You're not too old for me."

"Oh really?"

"We could make a movie sometime."

Mom burst out in laughter, reached under the sheets, started to caress my chest, in a most un-maternal manner, then asked, "And what type of movie would that be?"

"I think you know what type of movie it'd be. MILF porn videos are hot online, you know. Lots of guys like to watch videos of 'stepmoms,' 'moms' getting banged."

"Oh, really? Do you like those videos?"

"I do. Ashley Fires, most of all. She is stunning. Really, really beautiful. Still not as hot as you, though, Mom."

"Is that right?"

"That is right. But I haven't been watching any MILF porn recently. I guess that's because I've been enjoying the real thing. Actually having sex with my mother, my real mother.

"However, I have been reading a couple stories online, sex stories. Sex stories involving moms and sons, and other taboo topics. Stuff mainstream publishers are too chickenshit to release. There are a lot of excellent stories, writers online, writing under pseudonyms like Silk Stocking Lover, Paco Fear, Texas Tall Tales, to name a few. They're so good, some of these writers, I wonder if they're professional authors, online, letting loose their perversions.

"Whomever, whatever they are, they're outstanding. You should check them out, Mom. I'll send you a couple links. I know you like reading."

Mom nodded silently and grinned. I noticed she had a worn paperback copy of The Girl Who Played with Fire on the nightstand next to her side of the bed. Knowing she had fine taste in literature only made me even more crazy about her.

I was starting to get crazy, too, thinking about all the hot sex stories I'd been reading, and the bad MILFs I'd watched online. Staring at my own MILF, who is the baddest in the world, in my opinion, ah, shit, I was starting to feel urges. Carnal, forbidden urges. I was getting horny. Real horny. Horny for more sex with my mom. My gaze dipping, I studied the outline of my mom's curves under the sheets. Then I reached a hand over, popped it under Mom's robe and touched on her soft tits.

"Ooh," Mom exclaimed. Then her hand, which had been swirling around my chest, moved downward. Next thing I know, my mom grabbed my morning wood, slowly begun to jerk me off.

I moved, shifted my weight, about to mount my mom. I was going to spread her legs, slip my cock into her again, take her missionary style. But as I moved forth, she let go of my dick, pressed both hands to my chest, stopping me in my tracks.

"Not now, honey," she whispered in hushed tones. "I'm still a bit sore. You really stretched me out last night. But I should be better by later today."