Knocking Up Mom Ch. 02

I had thought all my inhibitions had been torn down, but, having my own son licking at his mother's anus appeared to be one forbidden area I wasn't ready for.

"I really love your ass, Mom. Really love it," he said before rising up. He kissed my legs, alternating between the two. Inner thighs, then knees, then my muscular calves. I thought he might kiss my feet, but he didn't.

He put them onto his shoulders, and had his mom suspended in front of him, giving full access to her sodden pussy.

Blake bent forward and my legs bent back. Back, lower, back until my position exactly matched the sketch. He reached between us and I felt the tip of his thick penis say hello to my vagina.

"Ready, Mom?"

"I'm ready, oh so ready, Blake," I whispered. I had been prepared never to do this again. All my intentions had been for this never to happen again.

All my previous plans to reinstate strictly a mother/son relationship melted when Blake glided into my well-lubricated vagina all the way to the hilt in one glorious slow thrust!

I gusted "Aaaaaaaahhhhh!" the whole way in.

Blake said one word when he reached bottom: "Kim!"

The angle this position afforded was amazing. It hit areas within me I never would have dreamed.

But, as I looked at Blake's face, framed by my bare feet, I knew there was something else, a secret I had never told anyone that was exerting another force on me. A secret I would never tell Blake.

Mother and son reunited. Man and woman joined. The father of my baby was driving mercilessly into his mother, the mother of his baby, and his lover.

A lover who didn't ask for or want mercy.

All my body wanted at this point was to be filled, and then filled again. And fill me Blake did, with that monstrously long and thick cock.

I had forgotten what it felt like. My memory of it was a faint shadow compared to the expansive force of his shaft on my constricting vagina.

My female competitive, possessive nature made me smile. "This would destroy that little bitch, Carrie" I thought. "She isn't woman enough to take it!"

I looked at Blake's face, contorted in effort and lust. It was ME, his mother who could bring him to such pleasure. At that moment, my pride knew few limits.

Seconds grew into minutes, during which Blake hit new angles and new depths inside of me.

My feet caressed the side of his face. I watched them as they rocked with the motion and intensity of his thrusts.

He finally turned his head gave a tense little nip to my right foot.

"BLAKE! I'M CUMMING! PLEASE! PLEASE! YEESS! I'M CUMMING!"

My orgasm had come so quickly, and with no warning. If my masturbation had been a firecracker, then this was a bomb! I strained upward with all my might.

Blake plunged and held there, as far into me as he could manage.

"NOW! KIM! NOW!"

And though I couldn't feel it, I knew that even though he had cum in Carrie's mouth just an hour before, my son was sending blistering jets of sperm into his mother's already-pregnant body. Although his cum had no additional power to impregnate, it still served the purpose to invade, dominate, and mark the territory of his woman.

Blake totally took possession of me on his father's bed, taking his dad's place as the one man who could satisfy me.

My son fell on top of me, shrugging my feet from him so they flopped to the bed at the end of legs which had lost all of their strength and control.

We slowly caught our breath in each other's arms.

"I can't believe it, Mom. That was the best yet. You surprised me. Out of nowhere, you—"

"I know, Blake. It surprised me too. Out of nowhere ...."

But, it wasn't out of nowhere. It was from my past. A past I had all but forgotten about.

*****************************

"I just don't remember it that way, Kim," my sister said.

"Bev, he used to tickle until I cried. He wouldn't stop. I used to think it was so cruel."

Beverly had dropped by to visit while Ed was away. My sister was always there when I needed her. She had been extra attentive since I'd become pregnant again.

I wondered how supportive she would be if she knew I was carrying my own son's child. And, what would her face look like if she had witnessed her sister bent double shouting out an orgasm as teenage sperm flooded her just an hour before?

Yeah, here I was sitting next to my sister with her nephew's live sperm swimming inside me futilely searching for an egg that would never come.

"I remembering Dad tickling me, but nothing that made me do anything but laugh. It was playful," she said.

"You were lucky, then. He used to tickle me, my ribs, and that didn't bother me too much. But, then he'd pull my socks off and go after my feet. That sent me crazy. I couldn't take it. I would struggle and struggle until I couldn't breathe."

"None the worse for wear, I guess," she said and nonchalantly took a sip of coffee.

I wish I shared her nonchalance. Of course I knew my feet were still sensitive, but until that afternoon, when Blake had playfully bitten my foot—which triggered my clitoral explosion—I had never suspected it could be more than that. Now I knew why Blake's sketch had excited me so. Seeing my feet near his face opened the door to a strange desire. I was desperately trying, with Bev's help, to rationalize it and piece together why it affected me so.

"Why is this all of a sudden so important after all these years?" she asked. So much for the help part.

I could hardly tell her that just before she arrived I had my feet firmly planted on her nephew's shoulders as he drove his rock-hard cock into her sister's throbbing pussy.

I said instead, "More coffee?"

**************************

"I don't know if I deserve all the attention I'm getting," Ed said.

He had called after dinner. Blake and I sat at the kitchen table with Ed on the speakerphone.

"What attention?" I asked.

"Seems everyone has heard about the miracle service we had at our little church and the explosion of fervor and enthusiasm from our congregation! Good news travels fast!"

Blake looked at me. I looked at Blake.

Ed went on: "They've built me up to be quite the champion of faith here. I give a sort of keynote address tonight, they scheduled it in special. Can you believe that? The biggest religious convention in the tri-state area, and they've asked ME to speak!"

"I'm proud of you, Dad! Don't leave out any of the details. People will want to know exactly how our miracle happened!" Blake yelled towards the cell phone on the table. He made a funny face and raised his eyebrows towards me.

Of course his father had no clue how the miracle of my impregnation happened. He would be shocked to learn that as he lay in a drunken stupor, his son, in the next bedroom had delivered copious quantities of potent sperm directly into his wife's fertile womb, thereby becoming a father AND brother all in one shot. AND as a not-so-subtle byproduct, had sexually satisfied her by delivering an earth-shattering orgasm that had her screaming her brains out.

THERE was the miracle behind the miracle. That's the one I'm sure the tri-state gathering of clergy would receive with slack-jawed amazement, condemnation, and disgust.

"Are you taking care of your mother while I'm gone?"

Blake looked at me again with that grin. "I'm making sure Mom has everything she needs, Dad!" he said enthusiastically—maybe TOO enthusiastically.

"Good! You know you have to fill in for me while I'm not there."

"I'm doing my best filling things! Believe me!"

Ed would have been shocked if he knew my belly was filled with my son's (and not HIS) baby, and that my vagina was now filled with Blake's living sperm, even as we spoke.

"Blake, do me a favor," Ed called out from the phone.

"Sure, Dad."

"I left some handwritten notes on my night stand. I didn't think I'd need them, but now that I have to speak, I'd like to review them again. Go take a photo of them and text it to me."

"Okay, Dad. You'll get it in a minute," Blake said. He got up to leave for my bedroom, but surprised me with a sloppy French kiss before exiting the kitchen.

It flustered his pregnant mom.

"You still there?" Ed asked after my silence.

"Yes, Dear," I said. For some strange reason, I felt more guilty from that kiss in front of the immobile phone on the table than I did about being pregnant with his son's child.

"Take me off speaker," Ed said.

I did and held the phone up to my ear. This seemed out of character for Ed, like he had something to say he didn't want Blake to hear. My stomach tightened.

"Kim?"

"I'm here, Ed."

"I just wanted to say how proud I am of Blake. I don't want him to get a big head about everything, but the way he has acted since you've become pregnant is exemplary. He couldn't have been more attentive to you. Don't think I haven't noticed how affectionate he is. He's really taking care of his mother."

"He certainly is," I had to agree.

"You know I don't like to spoil the boy, but, while I'm away, you give him anything he wants."

"Ed, I—" There was a "bing" sound on the phone.

"Oh," Ed said, "there's Blake's text. I'm going to look at my notes right now. Wish me luck tonight."

"Good luck, Ed! You deserve all the credit!" I lied. Actually, Blake deserved the credit for seducing his own mother and planting that baby seed deep (and I mean DEEP) inside her where it took hold and produced the baby growing in me now. Blake also deserved credit for awakening in me sexual desires I never thought I had or could be satisfied. And, oh yeah, Blake deserved credit for being able to satisfy those desires like I never imagined possible in my 41 years on this planet.

"See you at the airport tomorrow night, Kim! I wish you could have been as excited as I was today when I found I was going to speak tonight!"

I didn't tell him how excited I had been myself while I watched our son shoot cum in his girlfriend's mouth or how excited I had been when Blake poured his second load of the day into me while he had my legs high on his shoulders. Instead, I said: "Me too. See you tomorrow."

I hung up and looked at the phone.

Blake walked into the kitchen. He had one hand behind his back.

"I can see you've been drawing again," he said.

My eyes widened and my mouth opened. Blake pulled my sketchpad from behind him and held it up.

"Blake! You weren't meant to see that!"

"Then, either you shouldn't have left it on your night stand, or you shouldn't have let me go to your bedroom."

I had forgotten. Why did I leave that out in the open? Was I unconsciously sabotaging myself?

"I wondered today what set you off," he said. "Now I have a good idea."

"Blake ... I'm so embarrassed," I whispered.

He came over to the table where I was still seated, bent down, and kissed my cheek. I had turned my head away, unable to look him in the face.

"Don't be, Mom. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"It's what your father calls a perversion in his sermons. It's not natural."

"You know how strict Dad is in all his beliefs. Look at everything he thinks about sex in general. He's the one with the weird ideas, thinking everyone should be guilty all the time about having natural feelings. That's what I think, anyway."

It felt stranger talking about sex with my son than HAVING sex with my son.

"Give me that, Blake. I should have ripped it up. No—I never should have even drawn it, even thought about it."

"Mom, I love your drawings. They're all so honest. And they show me how you really feel even when you can't express it in any other way. Don't ever shut yourself off from letting your art complete your thoughts and feelings."

He held up the sketch. There were three separate scenes, each featuring Blake's face: one had him kissing a foot; another showed him with the flat of his tongue licking up the sole of a foot; the last showed him sucking toes.

I had accurately drawn the features of his face. And, although no one could tell, I had accurately drawn my own feet.

"Blake, I don't know why I drew those."

"I do," Blake said. "You have a foot fetish. Something made you feel your feet are sexy. It doesn't matter why or how. That's just what is. I read about it once on the internet. There's nothing wrong with it, Mom."

"Please, give me that," I said as I made a grab for the pad.

Blake easily avoided my reach and said, "Mom, if YOU think this is exciting, then I think it is too." He took the pen sitting on the table and wrote for a minute while I sat there, stunned. Then, he pushed the pad across to me and left it alone to do with what I wanted.

My eyes couldn't tear themselves away. "Oh my God, oh my God," I chanted in a hypnotic fog. Unconsciously, I rocked my bottom back and forth on the hard chair.

He had written three captions:

"I want to kiss your pretty feet, Mom!"

"I love the taste of your feet."

"Cum for me, Mom, while I suck your toes."

I looked up at him finally and shook my head "no." My head seemed to be the only part of me in the negative. My mind was busy picturing Blake carrying out his written acts while my body was inflamed with a perverse desire.

"Come on, Mom," he said quietly. He took me by the hand and pulled.

I resisted. "I can't let this happen. I can't allow something as dirty as this to happen."

"Don't you want me to get down there and smell your feet, tickle them?" He pulled me up until I was standing on shaky legs.

"Nooo, oh no!" I breathed. The thought drove me wild. My breath came fast. Then Blake's words brought memories flooding back to me—my father's words as he tickled me, talking (I'm sure kiddingly) about my "stinky feet."

Blake led me down the hall. I resisted feebly and protested almost inaudibly.

He sat me on my bed and knelt in front of me. Then he raised my left leg until my calf length leather boot was in his hand. He pulled at the heel and my foot loosed from its tight, hot confines. The air felt cool on my sweaty foot.

"You have pretty feet, Mom." Just that one statement sent a thrill through me.

Was I really going to allow this to happen?

Blake brought my foot up to his mouth and kissed it. "God!" I gasped.

My son repeated the procedure with the other boot. I was now barefoot in front of my son and the thrill was even greater than when he had first stripped all my clothes from me and I first stood naked in front of him. The repressed perversity of this act surpassed my previous disrobing.

He surprised me by dropping my feet to the floor and reaching under my skirt.

"Blake?" is all I said when he pulled at my panties. I raised my hips at his silent command, and he skimmed them over my hips and down to those feet he had just been lavishing attention to. Off they went to the side.

Blake kissed my left knee, then my calf, and then my foot. Kissed it as it had never been kissed before—every inch of it! My butt ground into the bed. I moaned and made soft protestations before graduating into urgings and begging for more. The sight of my son's face on my foot was driving me wild.

A fact I never would have guessed before today. it seemed the nerves of my feet had a direct route to my clitoris. I rocked and squeezed my thighs.

He switched to the other foot and after the kissing, licked the sole from heel to toes.

"Nooooooo!" I exhaled. It wasn't a negative to stop, but a sign of disbelief that this could be happening—that something so gloriously, insanely, excitingly bizarre was happening!

As he held my foot captive and licked its entire surface, my son's hand snaked up my thigh, under my skirt, and, like a heat-seeking missile, sought out the heat of my throbbing pussy.

I felt his fingers in the damp, dense jungle of my black, curls nestled between my long legs. The end of one long leg, my foot, was now covered in my son's saliva.

Even wetter was the entrance of my vagina. His middle finger found it and easily penetrated me.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed at that first intrusion. He withdrew and plunged the digit back in, slowly at first, and then more and more rapidly.

My son was fingering his mother—just like he had done earlier with Carrie.

He switched feet again, repeated his licking, and then forced his rough tongue between my toes. Each toe, every single toe, every tingling toe.

"Yes, yes, yes," I chanted. I was loving this beyond all measure of sense or sanity.

Blake pressed his thumb onto my clitoris and then sucked my toes, one-by-one into his hot, wet mouth. Never rushing and giving each one time and attention with his tongue. The suction he applied, the pressure of his mouth—accompanied by the pressure on my clit sent me over the edge.

"DADDY!" I screamed, "I'M CUMMING!"

My hands covered Blake's own hand on my crotch and I added my strength to his in mashing my clit. My hips bucked until I was totally spent and lay back, completely exhausted and spent.

My hands fell to my side, leaving Blake's to continue with a lazy sawing in and out of his mom's thoroughly-flooded pussy. My fluids drained down my ass, soaking into the bed below.

Through my after-orgasm haze, I felt Blake's finger slip from my vagina and go lower, rubbing over my saturated asshole. It rubbed over and over it, and then made a little encroachment. I tightened up.

Then again. Finally, I lacked the strength to continue my defense, and I let my son sink knuckle deep into my butt.

"Blake ... honey ... don't," I said. But, I'm sure my voice was too weak to be understood. I withstood the well-lubricated assault for another thirty seconds, almost forgetting about it as I recovered.

Then Blake withdrew his finger. I lay with my eyes closed, but could hear the rustle of clothes.

When I opened my eyes, Blake was naked. My mind said "My boy is going to fuck his mother, fuck her for the second time today!"

But Blake surprised me. Instead of either stripping me naked on his father's bed, or just hiking my skirt up and mounting me, he reached down and grabbed my ankles.

He firmly brought them up to his hard cock and proceeded to place the soles of my feet on either side of his hot penis.

"Blake? I ...? Yes, Baby, YES!"

A new thrill went through me! I had never thought of this. I instinctively pointed my toes and applied pressure, making it easier for Blake to glide his cock between them. Faster and faster he went. I added my little foot caresses to his speed.

"Fuck Mommy's feet, Baby!" I encouraged, as if he needed any encouragement. My whole world centered on one thing at that point: make my son cum with my feet.

And cum he did. "KIM! OH YEAH! OH YEAH!"

A thick coating of sperm and semen covered the soles of my feet and oozed from between my toes. For the third time today, my son let loose with his orgasm. This load seemed no smaller than his first.

Into his girlfriend's mouth, into his mom's pussy, and finally onto his mother's soft feet. Quite a day for any boy.

But, even an 18-year-old had a limit. When Blake reached that limit, he fell onto the bed beside me.

As he caught his breath, he said, "Mom, that was so wild! I'm so glad we did this."

"I never would have believed. I never would have even suspected I wanted ... no needed this. You made it possible for an unconscious wish of mine come true!" I spoke softly into his ear.

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me for a long time, smiling. I smiled back.

"Mom, you can make my wish come true too."

"And what's that, young man. Your Dad doesn't get home until tomorrow night!" I thought I sounded optimistic and adventuresome.

"Mom, I want to fuck that tight ass of yours!"

***************************

I was in bed-naked.

Behind me, I heard the soft, rhythmic breathing that signaled a sleeping person. That sleeping person's naked body pressed against mine in the "spooning" position.