Mustang Sammie Pt. 03

Again, a fictional, incestuous tale of mother and son, of dangerous and sometimes impersonal, hot sex, and a sense of disbelief. Please enjoy.

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Happy Husband Eve

Waking up next morning, it seemed like a split second had passed before I was fully aware I was naked. Bizarrely, I was on Mike, my husband's, side of the bed and facing my (right) side of the large double bed.

Moving my legs to turn onto my back, the familiar stickiness gave me a hint as to why I found myself not in my usual place, as I ran my hand down the mattress, feeling the still damp patch where, again, my vagina had been filled, provided all the proof I needed that this was real. I had slept with my son again.

I read the note on my phone, and throwing the device down on the bed, I lifted the pillow beside me and pressed it into my face and screamed, "FFUUUUCCCCKKKKK!"

'At least the morning after pill would keep me safe,' I thought inwardly, as my face re-emerged into the bright scrutiny of the morning sun.

Knock knock!

My son's voice brought my focus to the present, asking if I wanted bacon and eggs for breakfast. I shouted back through the still closed door, "Sure, that sounds nice," and thought to myself, 'And hopefully have my eggs unfertilised.'

"It'll be about 20 minutes," was his reply, giving me time for a quick shower before I went down in a purple tank-top and black leggings. Underwear? Well, you'll find out in a minute.

I entered the kitchen to the glorious smell of my breakfast cooking. I had lifted a dry towel from the cupboard in the downstairs bathroom, and as I entered the hot kitchen, my hands were securing it around my head in a turban effect, as he turned to look at me and said, "Morning Mum!" I was thrusting my tits out, making them jiggle with rise and fall as I finished covering my hair. I think I was determined to break him, if he was going to keep coming into my room at night to fuck me, I was going make him acknowledge in some way, what we did last night.

There was nothing, keeping his eyes firmly on mine, he coolly gestured for me to sit at the table where he had placed a set of cutlery, and a glass of fresh orange juice. Seeing him approach me from the side, carrying my piping hot breakfast, I had made sure my top was gaping as he set the plate down in front of me, with his opposite. I was 100% certain that he had access to view all the front of my tits, if he ever lowered his eyes from mine. Even though I watched his every move, not once did they dip to my pleading to be noticed, un-supported mammaries.

Unlike yesterday, I knew he had fucked me last night, and fucked me good. My attempts at making him uncomfortable enough to break, by leaving a generous section of my breasts exposed, was having the negative effect of making me feel really stupid, exposed, and probably showing that I was still playing over and over in my head, the memory of him squiring his seed in my pussy again.

My nipples were out and proud, still he refused to look at my tits, as we talked about the day ahead. I was working again today, 9am until 2pm, and as I was expecting his father in the early hours of the morning, I made a point of emphasising this fact. There could be no midnight madness tonight.

Finishing our breakfast, we both set off for work with a kiss on the cheek, as usual.

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Stains Can Be Washed Away

I got home at 2:30pm, and straightaway stripped the bed, heavily soiled after 2 loads of un-restrained semen being deposited in it, over the past few nights.

I'm by no means the traditional '1950s Housewife' sort, but I always feel a sense of importance in making the house look presentable, after Mike was away for so long. I also was, subconsciously, looking for some sort of resolution to my tumultuous guilt that had arisen, since I had put the under sheet of the bed to my nose, inhaling the further confirmation that my son had cum inside my bed, and my womanhood.

With the house now spotless by the time my son got home, I was shattered. I was sitting at the dining table, doing some puzzles on my iPad when the back door opened and in he came, smiling warmly with a, "Hi Mum," as our eyes met.

Seeing that he was covered in dust and dirt, I playfully batted him away when he bent to kiss my cheek, telling him to take himself off for a shower. Thank god he didn't know that the musky smell of sweat, oil and a hard day's work had made me flutter, deep inside.

Not sitting down, he breezed through the house and up to the bathroom, where he showered and, for dinner, we agreed on some frozen lasagne from a few nights ago.

I can't say it felt awkward, sitting outside in the sun with the man who was helping himself to me every night, especially with us never acknowledging it in our daily roles as mother and son.

The bedsheets on the washing line were gently fluttering in the breeze, and as they almost seemed to frame his head as he ate his lasagne, the conflict of my son eating his favourite childhood meal under the shade of where we had committed what was an awful sin, hammered at my brain, and my heart fluttered with the sheets on the line.

"Are you OK?" Thomas asked, noticing me putting my hand on my chest.

"I'm fine, just a little palpitation now and again," I replied.

We ate in silence, then I asked him if Ben was coming round tonight. He looked down, as if embarrassed and then said, "Erm, no....I'm seeing Shannon tonight."

"Oh, is the big romance back on?" I probed, smiling at him.

"If I believe Ben, and she's also telling me the same thing that nothing happened, I would be foolish to throw that away too," he replied.

I nodded and smiled like a good mother, before giving him the standard pearl of wisdom, "Just be careful."

Thomas then got up and took both of our empty plates into his grasp, to take into the kitchen, and when he passed my left shoulder on his way, I felt his warm hand gently setting down on it. He asked, "Are you sure you're alright, do you need me to get you anything?"

I reached up across myself with my right hand and gripped his, as it lovingly rested on my left shoulder, told him I was fine and he replied, "It'll be alright when the old man gets home. What time is he due?"

"About 3am he'll be here. He's getting a cab from the airport......."

"Cool," he replied, as I nuzzled my cheek into his hand. Then he gestured up to the bedsheets and said, "I hope he appreciates the spotless house, you've been flat out by the look of it."

I had to say something, and his line of conversation had provided the perfect entry point, so I replied, "Yeah, it's for me more than him. Thomas, we have to be careful and not....dirty it again, by the time he gets home."

I knew by the pregnant pause, then tighter squeeze on my shoulder meant that he had got what I meant, and he replied, "I'll do these dishes. Anything to help, Mum."

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Dating my Doppelganger

I was watching TV when around 9pm, I heard my son's car arriving. Not expecting company, I'd had a bath and was wearing sweatpants and an old nightie with no bra or panties in place, when I heard his voice in conversation. Then I heard a girl's voice too and it dawned on me, 'Shit, he's brought her home!'

I sprang to my feet and ran upstairs, as I heard the front door opening into the little porch, and as I rounded the banister and got to my room, my son shouted up, "Mum, are you in?"

I didn't answer, I was too busy trying to find a bra and a decent top to put on that I didn't even hear him on the stairs. He knocked my door and I froze, holding the t-shirt in both hands, about to pull it over my head, I responded, "Down in a min."

My t-shirt was over my head when the door opened. As it popped out of the hole, meeting my son's face, gawping at my bra covered breasts, I said, "I said I'd be down in a min!"

"S-sorry, I thought you said come in," he replied, holding my gaze as I felt my fingers on my soft bulges, as I lowered the garment down over my body. "I've brought Shannon to meet you," he continued, as I smiled and followed him out the door.

She was standing, looking at family pictures on the wall when we came into the living room. "Shannon," he said, "This is my Mum, Samantha......Mum, this is my......this is Shannon."

I could hardly speak, as she turned around and politely shook my hand. Everything from her brown hair, even the way it sat over her shoulders, her discretely peeping cleavage and breasts, her tummy and butt and on down to her legs......was me. The only difference was that her face, well, it was a knockout. The shape of it was mine, but this girl had the face of a movie star.

She was quite shy, saying said, "Hello, pleased to meet you," in her cute little voice.

"Lovely to meet you, he's been hiding me from you for far too long," I replied, looking at him as I said, "He must be ashamed of his old mother."

She then said something they endeared me to her immediately, "I thought it was me he was ashamed of.....You don't look old enough to be his Mum."

"You can keep her," I grinned, patting him on the shoulder and asking if anyone wanted a cup of tea.

We chatted for about an hour, then I cleared away the tea tray and was stood at the kitchen sink when Thomas came in. "Hi," he said, with his hands in his back pockets, telling me that his next sentence was going to be awkward.

"Hi to you too, what can I do for you?" I asked, throwing him a lifeline to what I knew was coming next.

"Erm, would it be ok if.....Shannon stayed the night?"

I looked at him, looking nervously back at me and chewing his bottom lip. "Answer me 1 questions first," I said, and he nodded. "Is she over 18?"

He nodded again, telling me that she was actually a few months older than him. Then a sense of emptiness crept over me, and I started to feel anxious as I just about managed to get my mouth open enough to reply, "Your sister is allowed to have her boyfriend stay over, Shannon is more than welcome." Then it dawned on me, that my sense of emptiness, was down to the fact that he wouldn't be filling me tonight.

Don't get me wrong, I found myself quite relieved that my son's girlfriend was staying over, it meant that he wouldn't be entering my bedroom, my bed, or me. Of course I could say no, but if anything that past several nights have taught me, that was something I was going to have to work on.

This was not to be the voyeuristic listening to my son and his girlfriend, of other stories. My husband and I had designed our living and sleeping areas so that the sounds from our bedroom could not be heard from the other two bedrooms down the small corridor and separated by an office space. Subsequently, my son's bedroom could also not be heard from mine.

I lay there, wondering, thinking about what my son was doing to my young mini me right now.

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Things That Go Bump In The Night

I'll excuse myself at this juncture and say that I genuinely did need a drink, and gently opened my bedroom door and crept downstairs to the kitchen area, which we will say, coincidentally, is just below my son's bedroom. The moment I opened the kitchen door, I could hear the noises coming through the bare floorboards and down through the ceiling. 'Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak,' went the spring of the little single bed, that my son had slept in for the past 10 years. On and on he relentlessly pounded, as I stood beneath and sipped my pint of water.

She was quiet, all I could hear was the squeaking of the mattress, with the occasional slapping of skin on skin. "Oh," a little yelp and then a gasp, then the tempo changed and the squeaking stopped, and I could hear the pained grunting of a man.....a climax from a man I knew all too well.

It was at this point that I noticed what I had been doing with my hand that wasn't holding the glass, Bringing it out from my soaked centre and washing my hands, I admonishing myself as I only had to wait another four hours until my husband made it home.

That, I was looking forward to. I would be going to slepp naked tonight, as my husband always wakes me up in a certain way to say hello. As I thought about it, while climbing the stairs again to my bedroom, I just couldn't wait for him to get home to pleasure me, but also to save me from further episode in committing the ultimate sin with my son.

As I settled back into bed, I looked at my phone, Checking for any messages from my husband. I guess I was so nervous that he would tell me at the last minute that he wasn't coming home at all, but my phone screen was clear and then I drifted off to sleep

Sometime later, I was woken up by a familiar feeling between my legs. A wet warmth parted me, bathing my most intimate area in oral pleasure. He reached around and cupped my bum, holding me tightly to him as he feasted, licked, bit and nibbled at my sodden folds.

Then a thought shot through my mind as my climax grew, is this my husband?

Even that shadow of doubt made me climax immediately. The mere suggestion that this was my son between my legs set something off inside me, as the finger probed me, and the lips nibbled at my clitoris. My thighs clamped the head in their vice and I rode out my orgasm to the maximum. The thick hands started to part my legs and the body climbed up mine and the top of a head popped out the bedspread as lips clamped onto my nipples.

As if to confirm what I had ascertained, I lifted the sheets off my body and looked down, as my husband's eyes gazed back at me, with my right breast in his hands, and my now half inch tall nipple in his mouth. Unlatching, he looked at me hungrily as he crawled up the rest of my body to my face. Kissing me, he reached between our bodies and, securing his place as the man in my life again, he was deep inside me with one thrust.

Daddy was home.

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Happy Families

I found it difficult to get out of bed the next morning, partly due to it being so comfortable, laying on my loving husband after almost 7 weeks apart. The other reason was down to the long separation too, as between his arrival at 3am, and it now being 7:30am, my sex-starved husband had pounded me relentlessly, cumming in me twice' with a 3rd down my throat after fucking me from behind.

As I washed myself in the shower, even the action of running my hands over my breasts made me shiver as I crested my nipples, still tender after my husband feasting on them so hungrily. My vagina however, was almost off limits, and due to the tenderness of my inner core and the tingling of my still excited folds and clit, I could hardly stand up or walk.

I put on my clothes and went down to breakfast, to find my husband making a good old full English fry up. Kissing him, I then moaned into his ear, my pussy is destroyed. Thank you!"

Turning to kiss me, he took me in his arms and told me he loved me, before turning and saying, "Sorry! That last time was just carnal fucking. You know what the sound of you peeing does to me!"

I thought nothing more of it, initially thinking about the gap between my last urination and being fucked, but he's had a long day, so I cast the thought away as he calls my son, not knowing that his girlfriend is there until I say, "Did you make enough for Shannon?"

"Shannon? Who the hell is Shannon?"

With that, the door opened, and my son staggered through it. Knowing that he had recently been fucking seemed to add a masculine aura to the messy head of hair that, after all, was just hair. "You finally decided to come home?" My son said, punching his old dad on the arm before they did the manly hug/back-slapping thing.

Just then, Shannon appeared nervously in the open doorway. "Dad, this is my....this is Shannon," he said, and my husband looked at her with wide eyes.

"Oh th.....this is Shannon? Your mother was just telling me I had another mouth to feed."

"Don't go to any trouble for me, Mr Houston," her sweet little timid voice piped up.

"Nonsense," My husband replied, "There's more than enough. Oh, and your boyfriend is very bad at introductions. I'm Mike....." Pointing at me, he continued, "And that's Sammie.....welcome to the mad house!"

"Ignore my husband for referring to his loving wife as That," I smiled, finding it hard to believe that this shy young woman had been taking my son's considerable length, as I had heard just hours before.

We ate and chatted, and I decided that I liked Shannon. She seemed to be more confident than she initially projected, telling me how she was training to be a physiotherapist, volunteering at the local football team to get her foot on the ladder.

All too soon, it was time to leave. Shannon and Thomas left in his car, and Mike drove me to work, not wanting to be stuck at home until I returned after 2pm. "What do you think of your son's girlfriend?" I asked him.

"Quiet little thing, she erm....," He didn't finish, and he lightly blushed as he pulled the car in at my work and said, "God, Sammie, tell me I'm not the only one who thinks she looks like you!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?" I replied, glad that someone else had seen it too.

"Isn't that like, strange or something?" Mike continued with a worried look.

Ignoring the fact that my husband didn't know the half of my son's now physical Mother issues, I said "It didn't sound strange to them last night. FYI, don't go into the kitchen when they're in bed together," kissing him on the lips as his eyes looked up and down, mentally pondering the proximity of the kitchen and Thomas' room. "I'll leave you with that thought, see you later.....love you."

"Yeah, thanks for that.....love you back," he said as I closed the car door.

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Just Like Family

The rest of the week was uneventful, with my daughter Joanne and her boyfriend Marcus coming home on the evening before our departure for the skiing trip.

We had a family meal, Thomas brought Shannon at Mike's insistence, and we all had Indian food at the local restaurant. Just me, my husband, my son who now fucks me, and what looks like my 2 daughters, one of whom has brought their boyfriend.....what more could a 41 year old mother want?

We all helped ourselves to our preferred alcohol, and with the legal age in the UK being 18, soon enough, we all were merry to the point that I was singing along with Taylor Swift and my son's girlfriend, as my daughter looked on in shame. My son, however, was also looking on, but I don't think it was shame he felt as I had my arm around my potential daughter in law, and my left breast mashed into her highly-set, perky right one, as we sang to my pouting faced daughter, "Shake it off."

The song ended and I hugged Shannon, turned to my son and almost shouting, said, "You can definitely keep this one. Your old mother approves!"

My daughter did not look impressed, and when I went to, 'Powder my nose,' she came too, telling me as I fixed my clothes after peeing, "You're drunk!

"Yeah! What about it?" I replied, sensing more of this newsflash was to follow.

"What will Thomas' girlfriend think when she sobers up, you're getting on better with your new best friend that you do with me."

"Nonsense, you're my pride and joy," I said, stroking her dirty-blonde hair, from Mike's genes, away from her pretty, blue eyes.

"Sorry, I'm just drunk too. It's just a bit unnerving when my brother's girlfriend looks more like part of the family than I do," she said, giggling at the striking resemblance to me.

"This has been noted by your father," I said, "Come here!" hugging my daughter's skinny body, until she told me she couldn't breathe.

Upon our return home, Mike opened more wine, and the 6 of us had a glass. I could clearly see that my daughter had her mind on other things, looking longingly at Marcus as he ran his hand up and down her thigh, to the bottom of her jeans shorts.

Mike proposed a toast, "To family, and new members," as he clinked Shannon's glass, "To my son for being the man of the house when I'm not here, and to my beautiful daughter, making me more proud every time I see her."