Quickie: Thieves' Eyes

Mom pushed against me, and that decided the question. I drew back and thrust several times, quickly. On the last one, when I brought us together, the sensation blossomed to perfection.

"Holy shit," I huffed while my mind whirled and romped. Her body fueled mine; it felt dangerous and thrilling.

The call to fuck was irresistible, but I didn't want to be on my side anymore. I wanted more freedom and leverage. Hauling us together, I brought her to her knees.

She gasped and peered back at me, mouth still gaping. There were those dark eyes.

Clutching her hips in that position, I felt total control, and with it, anger. I suddenly realized that I had the woman--the thieving dope whore who stole half of my childhood--at the mercy of my cock. I loved her, but I hated what she'd done.

Surveying her body in that feral position under me, the younger version of herself was still there. Sleek and soft. Shapely--narrow waist over widening hips. Heavy, dangling breasts. Skin like creamed tea. I murmured a dark curse as I gazed down at her ass. She was still every bit the beautiful betrayer.

And my cock challenged her. I could tell it did. Her body hadn't quite adjusted to mine. Good.

I brought us together with force. Her body fed mine with a new, burning surge of pleasure, and her gasp stoked the fire of my bitterness. I didn't call her a fucking whore, but I thought it. I said it in my mind as I fucked her.

The thrusts clapped, and I watched her flesh reverberate in waves. Soon, I was exhausting her. She let her chest collapse onto the bed, leaving her arms straight out to the sides like a supplicant. Her face was turned to the side. She bit her lip and moaned under my stout advance. She snatched greedily at the air and sang long notes of aching pleasure. The sound goaded me into fucking her all the harder.

I stared down at her ass. Fuck, how she left it in the air like that--with the rest of her body flat against the bed. The sight was spectacular. It was like she was giving her ass to me as a plaything. It was total surrender.

I was still abusing her in my mind--fucking heroin slut, fucking thief!--but they weren't curses anymore, they were praises. Suddenly, those reverberating waves on her ass were a current, dragging me to a climax.

I didn't want to finish first; I needed to make her scream. Swearing aloud, I seized her hips and pulled out. The sudden absence of her pussy was like the emptiness of starvation. I doubled over, planting my hands on the bed, sucking air, and seething with self-loathing because her body had driven me to near-climax before I could make her cum.

While my body recovered, she slid out from under me. I didn't resist when she took my shoulders and guided me onto my back. Kissing my lips, she climbed on top of me. Then, she reached back, gripped my cock, and fed it back into her pussy while she sat upon it. Letting it skewer her, she pinched her eyes shut and hummed at the pang she felt.

I sighed at the perfect embrace her body gave mine.

She smiled. Then, she leaned toward me, cupping a breast and conveying it to my mouth. I latched onto the nipple and sucked; she gently rocked upon me. With every gyration, she hummed as if she were enjoying a rich delicacy. Our fucking became a slow chase.

It was nourishing. Her body strengthened mine, made me feel like my cock grew in rigidity and length inside of her. But, it also felt like a lesson--there is a time for war in lovemaking; this was a time for peace.

I released her nipple and sought her face. She bent it to mine with a note of agonizing pleasure, and we kissed. Not long after, she rose and let her breast return to my lips.

I could not stifle the grunts her body coaxed from mine. The sweetness was so sharp that I clutched her ass and helped mash our bodies together. She kept rocking in that lazy tempo, joining me in the grinding of our hips.

"Fuck," I huffed.

Maybe it was my predatory grip on her ass or the way I nursed on her tit. It might have been how my cock reached new depths when our bodies squeezed together or the pleasure she knew she was giving me. However it was, her climax took me completely by surprise.

Swiftly, she shifted her weight upon me. Before I could see what she'd done, my ears rang as she belted out lilting, husky cries. Her body seemed to convulse. I felt more of her weight on my cock, and when I looked, I saw it was true. She was sitting on it, knees up. Her head was tilted back and her arms were limp at her sides. She was a woman impaling herself on cock, and she bayed like a dying goddess.

The sights and sounds swept me away. The force of my climax made my core flex. My head and shoulders rose from the bed. I seized her waist and, battling the urge to roar, felt my cock begin to throb and spill. Throb and spill.

"Baby!" she cried.

"Fuck!" I grunted.

The pulses felt strong and heavy. They made me dizzy. I held her against me as if by instinct; all of my seed needed to be inside of her. It went there. It went deep. Then, as rapidly as it all started, the throbbing of our bodies faded.

I fell backward, and she tumbled onto me with a low sigh.

Neither of us could speak.

After unknown minutes of listening to one another breathe, I drew her hair aside and kissed her cheek. She responded with a kiss of her own before sliding off my body. On her side, she threw an arm and leg over me and snuggled close.

I was her baby, and she meant to hold me close. Kissing my shoulder, I felt her head move, and I knew she was looking at me. I faced her.

"I--I know nothing can fix what's happened," she said, "but--I'm sorry, Tommy. Please forgive me."

Her eyes were red and glassy.

"I forgive you, Mom."

"Don't hate me anymore."

"I never hated you. I was mad, and I missed you."

"I did awful things, made terrible choices, but the worst thing I can imagine isn't going back to jail or even being back on the streets. It's that I hurt you--that I made your life worse."

"I'm okay, Mom."

"I know you are." She kissed my shoulder and snuggled again. I felt her tears on my skin.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you let me see you? Or call me or come visit?"

She drew in a trembling breath and held it. Then, exhaling, she said, "Every day, I thought, 'It's today. I'm going to reach out today.' But, I was terrified. It was easier for me to dream of you forgiving me than to face the possible reality that you couldn't."

I nodded.

"And--and I guess it was like the heroin," she added, her tearful eyes fixed upon some point on the ceiling. "Avoiding you was a kind of drug addiction. The idea of going to see you was like me telling myself I was done with the junk. Then, my mind would get persuasive, telling me just to call you. Then, to write you a letter. And then to do it later. And then tomorrow--tomorrow, I would reach out to you for sure. But, the drug wasn't all the rationalizing and avoiding; the drug was the dream."

"Dream?"

"That you would forgive me tomorrow."

"Oh."

After a minute in silence, she said, "Do you know what scares me now?"

I turned to her, shaking my head.

She said, "The idea that I might never have quit that dream if you hadn't come here last night."

I decided not to tell her about the many times I had driven by the place, hoping and not hoping to see her. Instead, I said, "You are forgiven. The dream is real."

"Yeah," she said, returning her dark gaze to me. "It is."

I adjusted my body, cuddling into both her and the bed.

***

She was there beside me, smiling, when I opened my eyes.

"Mom," I muttered.

She nodded like a woman incandescently happy. I couldn't help but grin, too. She kissed my lips.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eight-thirty. When is your father expecting you?"

I shook my head. "Before noon, maybe. Do you have to be anywhere?"

"My Sundays and Mondays are free."

"Where do you work?"

She stretched languorously, letting a bare leg rise out from the covers and point at the ceiling. Then, yawning, she replied, "Tuesday to Saturday swing shift at Genesis Seed."

"What do you do there?"

"Test bean and corn seeds."

"Test?"

"Grow them, take measurements. Record findings and so on."

Shaking my head, I said, "Where did you learn that?"

"I earned a degree in Botany while I was in prison."

"Oh," I replied. Then: "Why Botany?"

She shrugged. "I liked the idea of nurturing things, helping them grow." Then, rolling towards me, she said, "So how do you want to do this today?"

"You mean go home?"

She nodded.

I sighed, thinking. "I need to call my friend. Assuming he's home, you could take me there to get my clothes and stuff. Can I borrow your phone?"

"Of course you can, but later. First, what do you want for breakfast?" she asked, rubbing her leg over mine.

An idea leaped across my mind. Then, another. Mom's face grew serious when she saw mine change. I asked, "Are you at all worried about--about the things we did last night?"

"Oh," she said quietly. Considering the matter for a moment, she finally said, "Baby, I don't think anything that happened between us is normal, but I don't regret it. I'll never regret it. I think we both needed it. We needed all of each other after so long apart."

"I needed you."

She nodded, caressing my brow. "We lost nine years of hugs and kisses and touches, and we tried to make up for it in one night."

"So it's okay? We're okay?"

She nodded.

"And is it a thing we can do again?--make up for lost time, I mean."

She smiled. The thieves' eyes were there again. "I like it when we make up for lost time," she said.

"Then, I know what I want for breakfast."

I nursed on her breasts, and when her pleasure began to ripen, I rubbed her pussy until she cried out my name.

Then, she slid down the bed, and in the morning light, I watched her suck my cock in that glorious way of hers. So sensual and loving. So adept. I loved seeing my entire cock vanish into her mouth with such creeping lethargy. Almost better than that was the sight of her rising from my pubic hairs and letting the glistening shaft reappear while those dark eyes smiled greedily into mine. She was in no hurry to finish me, and after many minutes, I felt like I had been pampered and doted upon in the most intimate, affectionate way by my mother.

"Mom?" I huffed.

Without expelling my cock, she looked at me and replied, "Hmm?"

"Will you hug it with your breasts?"

She drew free with an adoring smile.

On our sides, the embrace of those soft, heavy tits was like opening the front door after a frigid walk home from school and finding Mom there, overjoyed to see me, and enveloping me in warmth and love.

Sometimes she sucked on the tip while we rocked; other times, she simply regarded me. That was how I came--with her dark eyes on mine. And I realized something about her eyes as my cock filled the space between her breasts with the milk my body made.

I had been wrong. Her thieves' eyes didn't look at all like she wanted to take from me; they were there to take me back.

*****

End Note: Another "quickie." Hope it was cool, and thanks for taking the time. Is it thieves' or thief's? I didn't bother looking it up, just liked the sound of thieves' better. Thoughtful feedback is always welcome and appreciated. FS