Jeff and Jess, Son and Mother

"You're so wet, you slut," he mutters. The hand I'm not holding starts fondling my breast, and he's absolutely terrible with that, too, twisting and stabbing, like it's all very perfunctory feeling and aggravating. I would try to correct that, too, but one thing at a time.

"Yeah, I am," trying on my huskiest voice. He shifts around, and I can feel the head of his dick right there, pressing against my labia, hard, yet soft, very warm. "Go ahead," I say, feeling faint and dizzy.

He's there, on the precipice, his cock pressed against my pussy, about to slide in, and he's going to fit nicely, I'm going to enjoy his size, I know it. But, he backs away. I look up, see him. He looks ready to cry. I gather myself up and I want to wrap myself around him, but he screams at me and bursts into a torrent of tears, collapsing on the floor. "Jeff," I say, sliding off the table, kneeling by him. I put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"No," he swings his arm to throw me off of him. He stares at the floor.

"Okay," I say, trying to sound supportive, rather than disappointed. "I'm going to my room. If you want to discuss it."

He sniffles. I grab my clothes and head upstairs. As I land on my bed a few moments later, I lay there, staring at the ceiling. My heart still pounds in my ears, anticipating, hoping he will follow. And at that, I shake my head. What is wrong with me? What is happening? Do I really want him to join me on my bed? To have him naked and fat and inexperienced in my bed, poking at me with his dick and jabbing me with his stupid fingers? Do I actually want this?

As bad he tasted in my mouth, I actually want him in my mouth again. I enjoyed sucking his cock. I think about my sexual history, which is long, at this point, and how I have largely eschewed fellatio, how it was just a method for getting a guy good and hard and wet, ready to climb in for some time inside me. But, there is something about Jeff's dick... I think I maybe sick. Not just nauseous, but broken inside. If the thoughts in my head now are legitimately the thoughts in my head, and not some crazy confusion about who is where and doing what.

***

She wants me to follow her up there. And I'm still hard as fuck. I do want to fuck. But, I know she's judging everything about me. And I don't remember her saying I can stay if I have sex with her. Which, wouldn't that be sexual slavery or something?

Stroking myself while tears fall onto my dick and the floor underneath is a really weird thing. And it motivates me. I stand up, jerk myself off for a moment, and start up the stairs. I'm not sure I want this to happen. I'm really not. But, as I reach the top of the stairs, I know it's going to. I'm going to have sex with my -- with Jess.

She's lying there naked on her bed, playing with herself. I watch from the doorway. "Jess," I breathe her name, a word I don't use regularly. It feels strange saying a word that sounds so similar to my own name. I wonder how often we'd get the names confused on the phone or walking around masked like during the pandemic. She doesn't hear me. She's getting herself off pretty well, so I stroll to the bed, sit gently. I don't know why I'm not jumping on her, fucking her brains out, beating her brains in. I don't know what's happening right now.

She sees me. Smiles. "Wanna taste?" She asks, offers me her two fingers that were just inside her. I nod, just once. I don't know. I don't know. I don't--

She tastes like salt, water, and something else, something deep and rich, without any sweetness, though. Coffee, almost, maybe? I can't place it. She waves me to her, touches my cheek so gently as she guides me to kiss her. I rub my tongue on her lips and she jerks away. "Do... Do what I do, Okay?" She opens her mouth, leans up to my lips, matches her lips to mine, pushes gently, breathes inside my mouth, then her tongue, it like, massages my tongue. I start to try to do the same. "Gently," she whispers into my mouth. I hold my tongue for a few seconds, then try again. "Better," she says, "but a little less. I don't want your whole tongue in my mouth."

While we're kissing, she's taken my cock in her hand, and she's pumping it so wonderfully. I"m probably going to cum before I can get inside of her at this rate. But I don't stop her. Maybe I can deal with just jerking off with her. Maybe that won't break me.

If I'm not broken already.

***

The gentleness is sublime. Unlike anything I've ever really experienced. I'm fifty-one years old and somehow, all my sex has been rough and tumble, semi-forced or partially unwanted or animalistic. Guiding him to be a softer sort of lover has me feeling some kinda way. I instruct him how to kiss and nibble, and tell him if I want it harder, I'll let him know. He nods and does as I tell him. I move him to between my legs. Tell him to look at it. Really look at my pussy. He does and he lets his fingers play over the folds and he finds my clit and he reams my holes without pushing in. Until, he finally does. One finger in each, and I groan and moan his name. I look down while he's pumping both my holes with his fingers, and he's smiling. He's enjoying this almost as much as me. And I wonder what the hell is wrong with both of us.

"Come here," I whisper. "Get your dick up here."

He hesitates. "I'll lose my bearings," he tells me. "I'll be upside down."

"I want your dick in my mouth, honey."

He rises over me, looks at me, a little forlorn. "You were liking that."

I nod. "Let me suck your dick."

"Yeah. Okay." He gets positioned over my face, drags his balls over my chin. He looks at me, looking down on me. He watches me work my lips over the head of his dick. I am careful to take it slow. I lean my head and mouth up over his head, and he sighs. I watch his belly over my nose. Close my eyes, move my mouth over all of him. His dick taps the back of my throat, and I make a small gag sound. He pulls out. "Are you--?"

"Choke me with your cock, babe."

He looks at me, significantly shaken. He's not the misogynistic asshole he was a bit ago. Afraid of me. Afraid of women. "Are you--?"

"Please." I want it. I want him to do what he wants to do right now. I'm ready. I'm wet. I'm starved for his cum. I want him to empty into my mouth. So fucked up. Why do I want this? I really, really need to feel my son's semen dripping off my tongue. Not anyone else's. This boy's. Man. He's a man. It's not hard to remember he's an adult when his cock reaches the back of my throat, and when he settles in, pushes in deep, grunts as I gag. It's impossible to forget who he is, though, and while I'm lathering his dick in my saliva with my tongue, working up and down as the jams in, slides out, slams in, I'm proud.

I have no idea why. I feel so lost. Like I'm in a disgusting dream. Or drugged. Did he drug me like his dad did? Jesus Christ.

No.

I want his hot white cum dripping down the back of my throat, and he screams out loud when it happens. I don't know if I've heard him make such a visceral, animalistic sound. I've listened in when he has his hookers and whatnot visit. Never much more than a grunt or two. I close my eyes, sucking the jism and sloppy spit off of his cock as he pulls out, softening slightly as he does, and when my mouth is clear of his dick, I whisper a sweet sounding "thank you."

He slides down and lay down next to me. "Mom," he says quietly. I shake my head, but he redoubles. "Mom. I needed that so much."

I chuckle and pull him to me. Kiss him softly. I don't like what's rolling around in my head. But, it's there. I kiss him deeper and I find his quarter-hard cock. "I'm going to let you cum in my pussy now. Can you cum in mommy's pussy?" Jesus. Christ. What is wrong with me?

"Yes, mommy." He hardens in my fingers. I jerk him off for just a few strokes, getting him fully erected quickly.

"Lean back. I'm gonna rock your world, son."

***

Son. She just called me son. I just came in her mouth. I fucked her face, and as she jerks me off and straddles me, readying to ride me, she calls me son. I have literally just experienced the most exhilarating feeling of my life, losing my seed in her throat. She is undeniably adept at skill her s of sex and she is treating me like... well, even though she calls me son, she isn't treating me like one right now.

I feel her wet cunt against the top of my dick, and I watch closely as she hovers over me, holding me firm and upright with one hand. She smiles at me. "I want your to cum in me, Jeff," she uses my name this time. Slightly less freaky. "Mommy wants you to cum in her." Okay, that's just gross.

Yet, she doesn't laugh at my gut, or yell at me when I can't keep the rhythm right. And she hasn't told me to take a shower. Not yet. And when she does, will it be to shower with her. Might I push her against the bathroom tile and take her from behind.

This all evacuates my mind as she slides down my pole. She moans, hushed at first, but as she settles, her hips on my thighs, her cunt flat against the base of my cock, she moans louder. She puts her hands on me, one on my hip, one she presents for me, her hooked index finger prompting me to move toward her. I rise up onto my elbows. She moans and rises gently up and down. Touches my face with her wet hand. She pries my mouth open. Her finger is salty and sticky. She moves it in and out of my mouth, like a dick. Like my dick in her mouth. She swells up and the finger finds my tongue, then she falls downward, moaning loud, and the finger escapes even my lips. She grins at me. "Feel me," she says. "Feel the way I feel on your cock. How wet." She pushes a second finger into my mouth now, and her voice grows breathier. "How tight I'm getting, riding your cock." She cooes gently. "Getting close to coming," she warns. Her face pinkens. The thrust up is slower, the drive down noto me is getting faster. Harder. I close my eyes. I feel what she says. She's a pond, a waterfall of pussy on my dick. And each time she slams down on my lap, her pussy gets tighter and tighter, and I feel it.

Her pussy is grabbing my cock. Holding it tight,, squeezing it as she bobs up on me. Pushing back down, but when she moans her loudest, that spot on my dick, just under the head, bangs against her, she squeaks and cries out, and something similar happens for me. From nowhere, I'm about to burst. If presses up from my testicles, pushing up the my cock. "I"m gonna cum," I cry out. She smiles at me, leans to me. We kiss passionately, sloppily.

"Me, too!" She manages to say in wheezing gasps. She's working so hard, sweating, dripping off her forehead to her tits, onto my belly.

And then suddenly, magically, the entire universe changes.

The explosion is indescribable. I have never felt like fireworks rose out of my dick like a roman candle before, but she roars as I ejaculate, her pussy squeezing every bit of juice from me. She screams and claws at me, and I sit all the way up, grabbing her tits, kissing her salty, fat neck and pulling on her nipples and shouting my own self. I lift off the bed, I'm trying to bury myself in her, and she's slamming me back down, she's impaling herself on me so desperately.. "I'm coming!" She cries in my mouth.

And then it ends. She flops off me and trembles and shakes. When I move toward her to see if she's okay, she brushes me off. "Still... coming..." she says raggedly.

And that's when I learned a little something about female orgasm.

***

Ernie is standing in my office doorway, complaints about his wife, I think, is what he's muttering on about. But, I don't care. I'm going home to Jeff, and I'm going to take him out for a fancy dinner. Then, off to a movie. And I suspect somewhere between dinner and a movie, I'll get laid at least once.

"Hey," Ernie says after a bit. "Why ain'tchu payin' attention?"

I shake my head. He steps all the way in. Closes and locks the door. "I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm seeing this guy tonight, and that's on my mind.'

"You got a boyfriend?" He asks.

Wow. That's a weird fucking concept that, when it gets said aloud, for my ears to hear, rather than that voice in my head, bringing me closer to insanity, that voice in my head that you're privy to some portion of, makes me kinda sick to my stomach. But I nod and grin, and I feel like it's one of those dumb, google-eyed grins.

"Shit, girl. You in love, or something?" He unbuttons his uniform pants. Withdraws his cock.

I stare at it for a few seconds. I've never said no to Ernie before. Part of me is wailing away, reminding me how good this man's dick is. But, there's a really freakishly strong part, something guilty or guilt-adjacent that pushes me backward in my chair, rather than forward toward Ernie's magnificent, orgasm-producing, mouth-stuffing, pussy-wish-fulfilling cock.

I don't want to cheat on Jeff. All I have to do is say I don't wanna cheat, and it's fine. He'll back away. Won't he?

I'll never know, because I can't be in love with Jeff. Or anyone. I take that cock voraciously, like I haven't had it in months, but we all know it's been only a couple days. You can easily count the hours since I had his cock in my mouth. I throw myself at it, in the end. Jamming my mouth over him, listening to his small moans and his degrading name-calling. "Come on, you white slut. Choke on it, ya middle manager whore." And I swallow of Ernie I can fit in my mouth, which isn't all of him, but it's enough for him.

"Take ya drawers down." I stand up, pull my jeans down. He's in me so fast. I'm so wet. I scream higher than usual. Three days of Jeff and I'm not really accustomed to the stretch that Ernie gives. I cum in just a few minutes. He keeps pounding me. Calling me his "white slut," slides my shirt up to the bra, and pulls out. His jism is hot on my bag. It rolls down to my ass in clumps. It's hard to feel distinct balls of semen, but I know he's painted me over most of the width of my back. He pulls me round, kisses me hard. Calls me his "girl." I swoon, knees a little wobbly. "Clean me up," he says. I drop to my knees, suck the remaining slick of cum and pussy juices from his thick, black cock. I make sounds like it's tasty, because it is. His sweet sweat, the acrid flavor of his cum, mixing with my tangy, slightly nutty flavors, and I enjoy licking it up, swallowing it. Being his very good slut.

He looks down at me. Tugs my hair. I see his eyes, they're burning with desire, at least as much as before. He playfully slaps my face, pulls me to his sack. "Suck my balls," he intones. I pull one into my mouth, trying to ignore the wiry pubic hair that he doesn't shave. He cleans his cock and all around, but leaves his nappy pubes on his giant, wrinkly sack. As I rotate my tongue all around the testicle, the wrinkles iron out, and his dick, slapping me lightly on the forehead, stiffens. I eject this one and suck the other one into my mouth, rubbing my tongue all over the circumference of it that I can. He pulls me off. Puts his dick on my forehead. He's looking at me, trying to decide something.

"What is it?" I ask. He shakes his head, slaps me with his three-quarter erection. I grab at it with both hands, slide my hands up and down, then twisting my palms around, half its girth. He groans. He wants me to do him again. But, he wants me to drive. Unusual for Ernie, but not that unusual. I take him in my mouth for a bit, he moans. I direct him to put his ass on my desk. I climb aboard. We are loud while I ride him, kissing, fucking. I scream his name and there's a knock on my door. My boss, more than likely. I slide off his lap, but he protests, and I nod to him.

"Who is it?"

"Vanessa! You two needa calm down!"

I laugh. Ernie laughs, then says, "You wanna join us, Nessie?" Ernie is incorrigible.

The pause is long. Pregnant-long. The knob rattles with her trying the door.

"Wait, Vanessa, are you--?"

She taps lightly on the door. "I wanna see it," a thinly veiled affirmative. I glance at Ernie, who shrugs and grins. I shrug at him, unfasten the lock, and turn the knob. Vanessa slides in quickly. While I'm locking the door, she takes it in. "Oh, my God."

I laugh, "I know, right?"

She looks only at Ernie. "Can I--Can I put my hands on it?"

"Sho, girl." Vanessa is a nineteen year old girl who's been here since she was sixteen. She's pretty, a little heavy, I suppose, but lighter than me. She has big tits and a reputation for being a prude. As she puts her hands around his heavy, sopping wet cock, she makes a sound, a squeak, a squeal? I'm not sure which. She looks over her shoulder at me.

"This fits inside you?"

I chuckle. "It takes a minute sometimes," I admit, "and I gotta be wet as fuck, but yeah, sure."

She steps away from him Ernie tries to corral her, but she shakes her head. "I wanna see you in her," she whispers. Her eyes are wide. She licks her lips as I mount him. She kneels, watches me slide over him. I whimper as I impale myself on him, mostly for effect. My natural sound might have been a low groan or a grunt. But, I'm suddenly onstage, so I'm going to play it up.

"Jesus," she emits a low, fantastic whisper.

In just a moment, I'm bouncing again, trying to keep my volume down, but I want to shout from the mountaintops just how fucking pleasurable fucking this man is. I see her out of the corner of my eye, but I don't pay attention to her. I need this man to fill my cunt with his thick, black-man seed. He's grunting, groaning, getting close.

Vanessa's top is off, his hands on her small tits. Kid's tits. Tits of a girl who hasn't had a kid.

A kid. My kid. Would he like Vanessa? Can I get Jeff in on this, somehow? Is there room for him here? Is Vanessa about to become a sex partner? I'm railing on his cock, screaming about God and eternity, pleasure and depth. I crying, my eyes are leaking, I'm about to cum so hard, and his dick is exploding inside me, and the girl is pushing his hand over her tiny tits and into her crevices and I stop screaming, stop crying, watch him finger her next to me. She's instantly doubled over in clitorial ecstasy. I watch her begin to beg for him. He looks at me. I slide off. He's not fully erect anymore, but that doesn't deter her. She's on him like a vacuum to a pile of coffee grounds. Which is to say, sucking, pulling more than not, but unable to sweep it all in.

He hoots, watches her a moment, then smiles big at me. "Not bad," he murmurs, "Not bad at all."

***

I'm worried. She hasn't been this late in a while. Not since... well, it's all okay. I've got dinner waiting in the oven, and I'm erect as I'm gonna get. A little blue pill, just in case. Because, and I can't tell her this, but I have some erectile dysfunction issues. Not because of her, but, if I'm not really, really ready when she is, I can't get there. It's only been a few days, but it is a problem.

Wearing a button up, which is so not my style. I know she thinks we're going to a restaurant and a movie, but, I want to show her something. Something she never knew, never even thought to ask. Can't dwell on that. If I think about all that she doesn't know or even care to know, I'll spiral right back down into the basement with my rape porn and video games about rape and beating women into submission.

There's a door slam. Then another. And a third? That's fuckin' weird. I go to the kitchen window, see her and a huge black guy and girl coming up the drive. What the hell?

She's stumbling. Is she drunk? They're all singing and the girl is totally trying to grab the black dude's dick. Sweat is forming on my forehead. My erection is still an erection, but my mood is fucking blown. The door opens. She's singing some rap song I kinda know, but not really. She shuffles into the kitchen from the mud room. "Jeff!" She shouts my name. She's fucking plastered. She practically falls on me, arms akimbo, lands on me awkwardly. She reeks of hard liquor and cigarettes. She kisses me full, hard. She fondles me before she turns to wave to the people accompanying her into the kitchen. "Jeff, this is my friends," she's slurring all the words, "Ernie 'n 'Nessie." She looks at me. "I know we were s'posed to go out but honey, I just wanna fuck!" She grabs me again, and Ernie and 'Nessie laugh riotously.