Mounting Mommy: Creamy Christmas

Mounting Mommy: Creamy Christmas

John turned off his car and grabbed his bags. Walking up to the front door an image of his teenage wet dream played into his head, before...

*Knock Knock*

"Mom!" His voice thicker than when he'd left for college.

"Doors unlocked!" Her voice stifled by the door, still drew the fantasies of old to the surface.

His father had died not a year before he'd left for college, and he had nearly cancelled it all to be here with her. Opening the door John looked to the living room to where the Christmas tree could be seen from outside the window. His mothers snow white phat ass almost completely exposed, stuck from under the tree. A Mrs. Claus outfit a size to small for her thicc, juicy body, hid little.

The white fluffy furls at the end of her red skirt, were pulled up. The edge of her skirt lay atop her ass, a glinting red jewel pulling eyes into the brown eye that it hid. A phat pretty pink pussy, waxed, and ready, stared back at his slack jaw.

His bags were on the ground before he noticed, and he was walking into the living room as if in a trance. Her ass seemed even larger than he'd fantasized, and it swayed as she worked under the tree.

"Hey mom. What... what are you doing?" His cock was nearly fully erect just staring. God what would that smooth marshmallow skin feel like in his hands?

"Just... Trying to get... This tree plugged in." her voice strained, and her ass shook.

She shuffled back a bit, and her ass hovered a foot from his feet; how easy it'd be...

"Okay. I'm going to go put away my stuff, have fun."

"K sweety. Dinner will be ready soon so don't be too long."

"Okay mom" His hand came down on her ass without a thought. The ripples like a bowl of jello, his cock now like steel.

With a small yelp she shook her ass and continued her work without a word; her ass taking on a slight red tinge. He turned and walked away, rubbing his nine inch bulge along his pant leg.

Now that's. What I want this year.

His old room seemed full of boxes and old things, both his and his father's lives packed away. The room was unsuited for a single night's sleep, let alone half a months. He'd have to ask his mother about the living situation, but for now he dropped his bags just inside the door, and left.

Decorations littered the halls, and as he looked at object after object, he noted his mother's open room. A queen-sized bed, a library of books, and a tv. None of which is what made him pause in the doorway, a large dildo lay next to an e-reader, and a mirror covered the ceiling. Lube stood next to water, on the nightstand, and a set, a SET of vibrators charged on the dresser.

His feet took him in, his eyes growing, as he marveled at the titles of the books on her shelf, and the nude pictures of herself she hung on her walls. In his calls with her, she'd noted how lonely she was without his father, and his mind had fantasized, but standing in the den of debauchery he knew his fantasy to be a pale shade of reality. Mindlessly he snagged a set of Christmas panties off the floor, stuffed them into his pocket, and headed downstairs for supper.

Snow fell past the window outside, and a now lit up Christmas tree coloured the white expanse with a rainbow hue. His mother was in the kitchen, seasonal music lightly playing as she sways up and down, side to side. The skirt that made its way halfway down her thicc cheeks, danced around to give full view of her round shapely mountains. Standing close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck he hovered behind her, bulge grazing her as she danced.

"What's for super?" His voice was deep and soft next to her ear.

"mMmmm. Ham, carrots, and mash." She spun pressing her hefty bosom into him. "Welcome home sweety. Wow, my babies grown." She leaned back pelvis still pressed to his, eyes inspecting a new toy.

"I sure have mom." His eyes locked on hers, the words holding an obvious meaning, but still gave room for a retreat should that be needed.

"Mmm. Well. Hopefully I have enough for you to sink into then." A glint sparkled in her eyes, and though he dare not break eye contact he noticed the bow tied like a choker around her neck.

"I don't know, I have pretty fierce hunger." His tongue traced his mouth, and the oven timer went off.

She slipped from his slow pressing form and went to the stove, to pull the ham. The heat that escaped was colder than the outside winds, when compared to the growing flame within either of them. John moved to the fridge to pull out the eggnog. A plastic bottle of lube sat dead center on the top shelf, he pulled the eggnog out from behind it, and closed the door.

His mother's eyes met his, ruby lips parting slowly, to allow a tongue to deliberately, purposely, ever so very, sensually slow, run along the pillowy entrance. Her eyes lidded over as she bent to set the ham in the middle of the table, the soft crest of her breasts spilling out the top of her dress. His erection would not abate itself, and why would he want it too.

John walked up behind her, his bulge pressing to the bare crack of her ass. Leaning over her he placed the carton next to the ham, his weight, pushing his encased hardon deeper into her form. She rocked slightly into him, and the wet soft press of her cunt, met his length.

"Need anything else?" His voice was a whisper in her ear, his cock flexing against her sex.

"no." Her voice was soft, barely audible.

"Sorry I didn't-" He bucked up against her, humping her against the table, playing it off as though he weren't close enough. "hear you."

"MMmmmm. I said." She thrust back, shaking her ass up and down his length. "Not right now."

"Okay. Jane." He kissed her cheek. "Let me know though." Then he kissed her neck, lingering on the moan at the back of her throat.

John was a late bloomer, and in college when puberty was coming to an end he'd decided to use every last minute of his early twenties working out. Standing six foot five, with a toned muscle set that had just started to fade, he was by all accounts, the younger sexier version of his father. And as he pulled away from her, he could smell she thought so as well.

***

Sitting across from his mother, John ate in silence, watching the show she put on. Pushing food into her mouth a little too deep, and dragging the fork out, letting its tines split her lushes lower lip into sections. A slight gag on a whole carrot had precum seep from his length, and an uneasy shifting of his pants did little to help. A smile creased her watery eyes, as she reached for a napkin, causing it to fall off the table.

"Could you please get that for mommy, sweety?" A rasp in her voice turned sultry at 'mommy.'

"Of course, anything for a beautiful woman." His eyes dipped from hers to see the back of a steak knife push against an encased protruding nipple.

Instead of walking around the table though, he scooched the chair back, and slid to his knees, below it. Her legs were parted and rivulets of nectar pooled, under her bare pussy. Crawling till his face was inches away he reached over, picked up the napkin, and looked up into his mother's eyes.

Jane was near panting, and he hadn't touched her, he wasn't much better, just more hidden. They stayed frozen like that for a solid minute; John mere inches from the hole he was born from, cock hard as steel, and a soft hole wet an waiting for the iron. Eyes still on his mom's he leaned forward, and kissed the mons that lay above the leaking lips, above the rigid clit, below the hem of her Mrs. Claus dress.

Slipping back under the table he took a second to discard his pants, the confines were only that, and he suspected the bow on his mother's neck might need breaking before the night was out. Sitting across from his mother once more, he started getting into the act she'd started. The taste of her flesh still on his tongue.

John made show of slowly rolling up his sleeves, as though the meal would require his hands, or his fingers. He made show to extend his tongue whenever he went to eat something, playing with it on the tip while maintaining eye contact with his mother. For her part, she spilled eggnog, down between her tits, pulling them up to lick up the residue.

John grabbed a napkin as she did so, and she held them out to him, as he 'dried them off'. When she leaned back from his groping hand she saw his cock, three solid inches peeking from his boxers. John noticed, and let the tip land in the mash potatoes.

"Hey, could you help me with this? Mommy." His voice started as a question but ended as an order.

"Course sweety. Saves me the trouble of adding to my plate." Her plate still had a good amount of mash.

Unlike him, she stood up and rounded the table, hair band materializing from some pocket or on top of some surface he didn't see. What he did see was the tops of her areola as she bounced to a stop before him. Hands on his louse white button down, under his blazer, she sank to her knees.

Hooded eyes upturned to his domineering down cast stare, she slowly licked the crown of his cock. Precum, and mashed potatoes rested on her tongue, like a display, and she swallowed deeply. Fully extended tongue, lapped at the red missile head, as it bore at her face.

Then she got up, slapped his ass, winked, and walked back to her side of the table. John wanted to bend her over that table and just fuck her through to next Christmas. Instead, he dropped his boxers, and sat down in the hard wooden chair his father had made.

Supper continued as before, teasing gestures, and methods of eating, followed by dirty talk contrived as table manners. Eyes fucking each other, genitals raging as though they were being beaten, and food getting fucked just as well as it was being eaten.

An hour of prolonged foreplay, and teasing had them both ready to burst, and John thought that's where the night would go. John was wrong once more. Jane got up from the table after roughly an hour, and started to do the dishes. John made a move to press his erection against her, and she pushed him back saying; "I got the dishes, you go watch your tv sweety." So he did, not right away of course, he had to catch another glimpse of that bubble butt before he bounced from the room. A streak of fluid flowed from her furnace, and down her thicc thighs, the thirst back in his throat.

***

John sat in the living room wine glass in hand, a second on the coffee table at his feet. He held it but didn't drink, even though it'd just be a buzz, he wanted nothing to take from the sensations he'd have tonight. Red, blue, green, yellow, purple, the colours on the tree blinked and changed the room. Jim Carrey's Grinch played on the tv, and a howl of the wind outside made the inside feel cozy and warm.

Jane walked into the living room without the liquid sex that it carried this afternoon. Picking up the wine glass, she put back half of it, and lazily slumped onto an armchair beside the couch he lay on. Confusion hit John harder than any alcohol.

His mother, did not glance his way, did not expose herself in any obvious or purposeful manner. She watched the movie, laughed, and drank her wine. The Grinch's heart grew as John's cock shrank, the night's activities feeling like those of a dream. The wine twisted his memory so that they seemed a weird misunderstanding. Oddly enough the more he drank, the less he thought he'd fuck.

Small talk started, and as the warm wine heated John's body, his mother's laughter his heart. He noted the classes he was taking; he'd told her a few times already over the phone, but chemistry was chemistry, and biology was biology, the different specifications fled with time. She talked about her newfound love of exercise, (his father's company had sold for a few billion and the interest alone was more than enough for her quiet life).

Their conversation rolled around to relationships, maybe an hour into the movie, and a fourth glass of wine in. Jane hadn't been with anyone since his father, not for the lack of others' effort; but apparently, she was waiting for someone. John on the other hand seemed to have fairly high standards, or plenty of excuses.

During the second half of his first year, he'd decided to settle for someone in his intro chem class, and had dated her till the end of the term. Dated being a strong word, but the frequent, and intense, sex they had was just as educational, if not more, than the class they shared. He did not tell his mother why this relationship worked, for the short time that it did. The relationship worked for only one reason; she was as old as his mother, and looked similar to how he'd remembered her, he looked like the woman's son.

They'd stopped 'dating' after their shared class ended, mainly because she had grown bold enough through his affections to make a move on her son; it had worked. It working for her, was what had inspired his Christmas gift for his mother.

The credits rolled, the Whos from Whoville sang, and Jane climbed the stairs to her room. John, as if in a trance, just lay on the couch, realizing that he never did ask where he was sleeping, not playing on his sobering mind.

"I guess this is my bed then." He slapped the memory stone mattress that was going to ruin his back. Oh well, tomorrow was Christmas not today, and he was going to make sure she got what she wanted for Christmas... if that's what she wanted. The supper played out in his head, his erection starting back up at the thought. Still though, he had to be sure.

***

John woke up, back sore, eyes clouded and weary. Eyes half closed he sat up, and stumbled to the bathroom. His cock swung against his thigh as he stopped in the kitchen, sleep finally draining from him, as he drank some water. Realization set in, and he half jogged through the living room, past the tree in the corner, and up to his old room. Grabbing a Christmas present from his bag, he breathed a sigh of relief, at his mother's closed door, and walked back downstairs.

There she was, under the tree. He had no idea how he hadn't seen her earlier, but there she was. He approached slowly, his cock hard as steel. She wore the same ribbon around her neck she had yesterday. She was also tied up in the ribbon, obviously not in a way that she could have done herself.

Her mouth held a Christmas ball, red ribbon keeping it in place. Her cheek pressed to the carpet, eyes staring up at him in a glaze. Massive tits bound together with the same large red ribbon, crushed to the ground under her own weight. John's eyes took in every curve, and every detail of the gift laid before him.

Walking forward, slowly stroking his raging cock, he took a knee next to his mother. His dick swung before her poofy red lips, and his fingers stroked the strained flesh of her cheek. Shifting to get a better look at her ass, he realized he was wrong, she had done this herself, somehow. In terribly spelled letters a message had been written on her pearl white ass cheeks:

'To: John, my sexy son.

From: A hungry whore looking to be used'

Red fluffy cuffs trapped each of her wrists to her ankles, forcing her doggy position to include the bowed head. John's fingers traced the woman's flesh like an artist looking at a blank canvas. His mother had the body of a bimbo, it was so obvious, yet he hadn't even noticed till now. Well, it seemed time for his mother's present.

Without removing the gag, he showed his mother his gift, a rather large box for the tiny-

A knock on the door stopped the tease flat. John's hand rested in the crease of Jane's ass, a fingertip touching the gemmed butt-plug.

"HELLO?" John's voice echoed, his cock bounced to his hearts beat, and slapped up and down on his mother's face.

"HEY LOSER! IT'S NATALIA!" His adoptive sister was here.

"K...GIVE ME A SEC" For what reason he had no clue. With a quick pull at a few ribbons his mother was free, and to his minor surprise she unclicked her cuffs and helped herself up.

"this isn't..." His mother's words, a raspy whisper, were cut short by a tongue down her throat, and a hand on her cunt.

"Later..." And they were off. Nat had been adopted when he was about three, and was just as many years younger than him. Her mother was a teen whose parents sent her off after she had been born. After their father's death she'd started looking for her biological family, Diamond.

Diamond was now a single woman living in an apartment complex near the university she worked at. Nat stayed with her biological mother, and visited her mother every other day, if not every. Nat or Natalia as she preferred to be called, was what you'd call a fuckin phat ass chocolate shake. John and Nat were always close growing up, and though he had been attracted to his mother, since he could remember liking women; it was his sister who had given herself to him, on their eighteenth birthday.

John skipped the underwear, and quickly tossed on his white shirt, top four buttons undone, and a blazer over top. He couldn't find any cologne, so the smell of sex might just have to do, and a comb over was out of the question. Down the stairs he ran.

He had always returned the favour though. Sucking her clit as she lay in bed reading or fingering her, as he 'helped with her homework'. And of course, she knew of his lust for their mom, and hers for him.

"Hey Nat." He breathed heavily trying to even it out.

"'Hey Nat'? The actual fuck loser?" She sounded understandably annoyed. "What took so long huh?"

He had to pause, he knew the question was coming but, his mind was stuck on her full purple lips. His eyes cast down to her spilling cleavage and shot back up to her upturned eyebrow. She was very much going to wait till he answered. Shifting his feet, he started to slowly roll up his sleeves. Her eyes danced over his form for a moment.

"I... was trying to clean up my old room, so I had a place to sleep. Mom thought I'd be in a hotel and just left stuff in there."

"Uh huh." Her beautiful eyes did not believe him, and she remained still for a long pause. "Okay. Sounds good enough for now."

Nat walked past him, her red trimmed, blue booty shorts, hiding her crotch, and butthole but little else. The bubble butt stood half out, firm as it was it still shook as she walked. Kicking off her shoes, she looked over her shoulder to see John staring at the dark brown orbs as they jiggled as she shook at the shoe on her foot. Once off, Nat turned and hugged John, cupping a thick firm ass cheek.

"Damn Jonny. It feels like I'm gonna gag just thinking about your cock." Her voice in his ear was wet and as his hand slid to her ass, his red eye became wet as well.

"We might have to test that hypothesis. Scien-sis."

"Oh god. No." She groaned at his dad joke and backed up in time for John to see his mother, stroking her cunt over her Mrs. Claus dress.

"Hey baby girl." Jane stopped touching herself only when Nat turned to see their mother, hand falling to her side (given the woman's hips the hand had a distance to fall).

"Oh, hey Mom. Diamond and I had Christmas yesterday, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I stopped by."

"Of course not. Christmas is about family after all." Her eyes met John's for a second and the innuendo did not go unappreciated. "Shall we go to the living room then? As much as I love the foyer, I think it'd be nice to sit on something. Don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I do mom." A glint sparked in the ebony babe, and John started to believe in Christmas miracles.

***

Elf played on the tv; no one watched it. Nat's nipples almost pierced her too tight belly shirt, and her arms stretched wide to push them out. Her eyes faced the movie, but she looked from the corner to watch John's cock beat in his pants. His full lips turned into a smile on a hard mouth.