Quinn's Quickies 04: Creaming Mommy

"Quick!" She commanded, "I want to feel it soaking into my panties," When she glanced back and saw my questioning look she laughed and said, "Unlike last time, these panties are already paid for. So cares if we ruin them?"

I did as I was told and snapped her underwear back into place before giving her generous backside a hard slap of appreciation. She squeaked, but still smiled at me as she rubbed at the pink handprint I left behind. "Cheeky," she chided as she wriggled to pull her tight dress back down over her hips. "Mmm," she sucked in her bottom lip, "It feels amazing to still have a bit of you inside me, Chase. I'm not sure I ever want to be without it again."

I turned her around and placed a soft kiss on her pouty lips before replying, "You don't ever have to. Just give me a call and I'll be here to fill you up again. Day or night."

Dinner was delayed a little longer while she used some kitchen towel to mop up the sticky mess that had leaked down her leg. Then again as we lingered over another long kiss. Finally, with a happy little sigh, she released me and pushed me back, saying, "Now, go sit. I'll serve you in a minute. You need to eat up. You're going to need your strength tonight."

I moved dreamily over to the dinner table and flopped down into a chair. My mom played at being a waitress, fussing around me and serving dinner while I used every opportunity I could to shamelessly grope her body, even going so far as to slide my hands up her dress to fondle her ass when she got too close. The further I went the more she teased me until, after we had both eaten and she was clearing away the plates, I could resist it no longer and pulled down to sit on my lap. I thanked her for the excellent dinner and service with another kiss. While I did so my hands slid up her sides and buried themselves in the enormous mass of her breasts. She sank back into me and I massaged her chest through her dress and bra while I kissed her neck.

"Do they feel different?" She asked, chin raised to give me the full length of her neck to enjoy.

"A little."

"Do you hate them?"

I chuckled in her ear and said, "I could never hate them. They are a natural wonder. Odes should be written to them. Wars should be fought over them."

"They've started to droop now that they're not full of milk."

"I don't care. They're perfect, and I bet they don't hurt as much." I weighed them thoughtfully in my palms.

"There is that, it is a relief," She arched her back slightly as my attention worked its way up to her low cut neckline.

"And, now that Ian has stopped feeding they've grown so sensitive."

"Mmm," I hummed against her neck as my fingers folded into the crevice between her skin and the material of the dress. I began to tease it down. My mom squirmed her hips in my lap, grinding against my reinvigorated hard-on. I slid my fingers upwards, helping her straps to slip off her shoulders, releasing the tension confining her tits. I slid the dress down over her mounds while she slipped her arms free. With her dress down to her middle, I discovered, as much by feel as by sight, peering over her shoulder as I was, that she was wearing the wildly impractical shelf-bra we had bought last week together.

"Oh, mom," I said in guttural tones as I took in her unrivaled cleavage.

"They're not the same," She sounded almost wistful.

"Let me be the judge of that," I replied as I dug out the edge of her bra and pulled down. A wave of flesh poured out into my waiting hands. I could feel the difference immediately. Her tits were not as stiff, the skin more marshmallowy. I couldn't help the boyish chuckle of delight I gave as I burrowed my hands into her breasts.

"What was that laugh for?" I heard the defensiveness in her tone. She really seemed to think my love for her might be tied to her previously milk swollen tits. It was my job now to put that doubt to rest.

"I love them," I grinned as I played with her boobs, squashing the flesh in my hands. They jiggled most satisfactorily. "Maybe even more than before. Your milk boobs were amazing, but these feel like real tits should. They're so soft and luxurious. I could bury my face in them for days."

"Permission granted," I could hear the smile in her voice and felt her relax against me.

"Has the milk dried up completely?" I queried, voice tinged with hope, finding her thimble-sized nipples and giving them a playful tug.

"Mmm. There's still a little left. Nothing like the flood there was before, but I'm not completely dry yet. Why?" She gave me a playful pause, stretching her arms back over her head and grabbing handfuls of my hair, "Does my baby have room for dessert?"

She gasped as I pinched down hard on her nipples, my bared teeth grazing her elongated neck. I made a sound of assent deep in my throat. Still, she had to pry my reluctant hands off her tits so that she could raise herself up off my lap. Standing up with her back to me, she gave me a hooded look over one shoulder. Her hands found her bunched dress at her waist and she made a tantalizing show of shimmying the clinging fabric over her hips and ass. Once the garment had pooled at her feet she gave me a slow turn.

She now wore only her panties, stockings, and a garter. Shyly she covered her breasts which now overhung, and almost hid, her minuscule bra. Her sheer panties offered no protection though, and I stared hungrily at where her lips pressed up tight against the fabric. I could see where my come had dribbled out of her and made a creamy mess.

When my gaze traveled up to meet hers she must have seen the command in my eyes before I had to voice it. With an adorable shrug that made her look like the girl she still was in her heart, she let go of the tight grip she had on her breasts. They slid down her chest and bobbed up and down. They had a real weight to them now, but with enough youthful perk to make me salivate more than I had before dinner.

The single raised eyebrow she offered made me shuffle hastily back in my chair in preparation. Biting her lip, she put one knee up on the chair beside me and moved the other to straddle my legs. I encircled her small waist with my hands and pulled her closer. Kneeling on the chair, she put her hands on my shoulders and guided her swaying tits down to my face. My hungry mouth opened and welcomed the fat nipple that bumped against my protruding tongue. I slurped it into my mouth and sealed my lips around it. My mom rolled her shoulders back and offered her chest up to receive the worship it deserved.

Unlike the weeks before this, no sweet nectar instantly flooded my mouth. Nevertheless, I lavished attention on her plump bud. She was not kidding about her increased sensitivity. In moments she was panting and groaning at my incessant suction. She had always loved the attention I paid her tits, but now she was melting like a candle thrown into a furnace.

My mom wrapped her hands around my head and smothered me tight to her breast. I snuffled desperately at what little air I could get through the blanket of flesh, but I did not relinquish my hold. I felt her settle more comfortably into my lap, the heat of her sex palpable even through the cotton of my jeans as it bumped up against my groin.

Not much later, while my mother ground herself languidly against me, I was rewarded with the first drop of sweetness. It did not come easily, but I managed to coax out a thin trickle of exquisite ambrosia, made that much richer by the knowledge that it would most likely be the last. I allowed the liquid to coat my tongue. Letting it gradually fill my mouth before I reluctantly swallowed it down.

While I suckled, I felt my mom's fingers work the button of my jeans again. It popped open and she struggled to work my rigid shaft free. I was not going to give up my hold on her tits for anything and she had to work blindly around my hunched form. Once it was out she tilted her hips so that she could rub her slit against the helmet of my cock as it peeked up between my thighs.

All too soon the milk supply in her right breast petered out. I was about to move across to the other when my mom put her fingers to my lips. I gave her a desperate look but all she did was offer an enigmatic grin, her confidence in herself clearly restored. She stood up and took a step back. Her hands tugged at my jeans and I quickly complied, lifting my ass and kicking off my shoes in a single clumsy action.

Half naked, and with a raging hard-on pointing straight up at the ceiling fan, I looked hungrily to my mother for the next cue.

Her smile had only grown more wicked as she stood, twisting seductively at the waist, and reached around for her bra clasp. It snapped open with a soft click. She had to lift each of her heavy breasts to free the bra pinned beneath them before letting it fall to the floor. I hurried to match her, whipping off my t-shirt as quickly as I could so that I did not miss a moment of her perfection. I was back in time to see her unfastening the clips on her garter straps. With these out the way, she was able to pull her see-through panties down. Her pussy still glistened with my seed. Her trimmed pubic hair was matted with it. There was even a little ooze of it streaking her inner ass cheek, reminding me that she still had my essence being kept warm inside her.

Kicking the panties off, she gave me a little look, as if making a decision. She seemed to enjoy how much the delay was driving me crazy. I was vibrating in my chair with the effort not to leap up and tackle her to the ground. With deliberate casualness, she diligently refastened each of the straps on her stockings so that now those, combined with the garter belt and her high heels, were the only things she wore. I do not think any fantasy I could imagine would have matched up with the supernova level of hotness my mom gave off at that moment.

Standing straight, with a renewed certainty of her beauty, she asked nonchalantly, "So, where do you want me?"

"Don't you want to go to the bedroom?"

"Later. I don't want to wait any longer. Do you?"

I shook my head violently.

"So?" She put one hand on a cocked hip.

"The table," I croaked.

She gave a little shrug, as if it were no concern to her, but I could see the desire dancing in her eyes. I knew just how much my mom wanted me. I knew she had been fantasizing every bit as much as me about how good it would feel to have her climax in the same instant I poured my seed into her. I stood from my chair, probably a bit more aggressively than I intended. I had to force myself to slow, to calm. I wanted to be gentle with her this time. I wanted her to enjoy every slow, seductive moment I could give her.

She backed up until her backside bumped the dining room table. My grandmother's table. The table my mother had probably fed me my very first solids at. And now I was about to fuck her brains out on it.

I followed her out of my chair, moving forward as she climbed in reverse and leaned back onto one elbow. Her legs parted to accommodate my hips. I had grabbed her before dinner had been entirely cleared away. But I was hardly about to stop so we could finish the job. I simply shoved the last plate and a pair of wine glasses to the end of the table so that she could lay back on both her elbows and place her feet on the table with her thighs spread.

I loomed over her, her eyes huge and liquid with lust. My cock had purpled with angry desire and hovered half an inch above her crease. Ravenous for her, I looped one arm around her back and took a handful of her hair. I forced her head up and her chin back so that I could plant a firm kiss on her mouth, taking ownership of it. Reminding her, as I did every day, that she was mine and would be forever.

Our kiss was deep. What it lacked in finesse it made up for with the potency of the shared desire crackling between us. My cock sank down onto her soft mound. She took in a sharp breath at the contact. As we made out, I began to thrust along the line of her split flesh, feeling her tender inner folds part like grass in the wind. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened in an inaudible moan and she sank limply back onto the table. My mom's hair puddled around her head in a glimmering halo. I let my kisses roam all over her, from her lips to her cheek, down the line of her jaw, and to the points where I could feel her racing pulse just beneath her skin.

I used one arm to hold my weight off her, while the other cupped the side of her left breast, lifting it from where it had slid to one side. I plumped it into a tidy mound and began to thumb her nipple. She, in turn, used one of her hands as a guide for my cock, constraining its thrusts to a path that took it through the line of her sex. This ran through her labia, spread like butterfly wings, and over the growing nodule at her apex. It was a technique we had used before, prior to birth control, and she wanted to climax with my dick. Our experience with this technique, combined with her careful guidance, meant that she was soon bucking her hips up to meet each of my thrusts.

I improved things for both of us by lowering my head and taking her nipple in my mouth again. This breast had been better primed than the first and I could see a bead of milk on its tip before I put it in my mouth. I sucked at her tit with more aggression while our slippery bodies rubbed together. I got a bit more this time, her left breast had always been the best producer, but this too began to thin before I felt completely satisfied. Still, it had only been a short time since we started and, while I tugged just hard enough on her nipple to make her cry out, she had already begun to twitch her way to her first minor orgasm. I felt it roll gently through her while I lapped up the last droplets of milk.

It was pleasant enough, feeling those giant tits of hers quiver like jelly at the spring of pleasure I had just opened up inside her, but I knew this was only our warm-up. We had not even been doing this a full year, but I had already taken her from being unable to climax, to multiple orgasms in a single session. In fact, until my love of my mother had stoked the passions inside me to a white-hot furnace I had not known it was possible. I had thought multiple orgasms were a myth. So had she.

As her body calmed we met in a flurry of short kisses. A mixture of soft lips and clashing teeth as we both giggled like fools.

"I want you inside me again," She said through heavy breaths.

I nodded, kissed her again, and then raised myself enough that I could angle my cock down to her entrance. Though her inner embrace was still tighter than any I had ever felt, I was eased in by her desire and the trail I had left before to guide my return. In fact, as I entered her I was satisfied to see some of the semen from our earlier encounter come bubbling out of her as I filled her once more.

My mom threw an arm back over her head and stretched out like a contented cat, her body and soul laid bare before me. I had to admit to myself that my mom, as usual, had been right. Getting that first, over-eager salvo out the way had left me feeling completely relaxed and better able to savor her body for as long as I wanted. I took a deliciously long time over her. Leaving no part of her unappreciated. I kissed every part of her I could reach with my lips. My strokes were slow and deep, giving her the chance to feel every inch of my cock right up to her cervix.

She in turn worked her pussy like an instrument. Though her exterior remained mostly still, her sheath clenched and pulled at me. It flexed at just the right time and wrung exquisite joy from each dip into her perfectly sculpted chamber.

My fingers roamed like paintbrushes over her body, tracing the lines of what was already a masterpiece. Laying on her back like this her belly was convex, already well-conditioned, and free of any residual pregnancy weight. Her breasts were magnificent at this angle. They sloshed in perfect rhythm with my thrusts, their motion emphasizing their great size. I was transfixed by her nipples, now puckered with arousal, as they moved on the great tide of her tits.

I took one in each hand and scooped them onto her chest. I held them against the rocking of our bodies, stabilizing them so that I could manipulate my fingers around her tight nipples. These I worked with practiced ease. I knew these nipples better than anything. They were my specialist subject. I could write my dissertation on them and still have more information to impart. I had sucked them, milked them, and teased orgasms out of them. I now played them like a maestro, my actions synced to the very gradually increasing tempo of my hips.

My mother just lay back and let it happen to her. Her arms still stretched out over her head, a blissful smile on her face. I had never seen her look more beautiful.

"I love you, mom," I said softly, but really what I wanted to do was scream it from the top of the roof.

"Love you too, baby," her reply was a little slurred, such was the intoxication of her pleasure. Her brows furrowed in a moment of concentration and she added, "Ooh, that's it. Right there," and, as I apparently hit just the spot she desired, she let out a small breath of satisfaction.

I took tremendous pleasure in taking her very gradually to the peak of her climax. I remembered how, the first time we had been intimate, her orgasm had been so elusive. I had gone to battle with it, snatching at it like a complete amateur, dragging it down more with ferocity than skill. Now that I was a master hunter I toyed with it. Sneaking right up on it and then letting it escape. I had its scent, I knew its tracks, I had no fear it could escape me. I gave it a lead and then came bearing down on it, letting it feel the heart-racing thrill of the climax, and then stopping just inches short.

In the end, my quarry was so confused and exhausted it remained up to me when to bring it down in a final, merciful thrust.

My mom's whole body was knotted with muscular spasms now. She was gasping for an end to it. A sheen of sweat covered her body as it fought to regain the control it had lost to her overwhelmed pleasure centers. Her back arched up off the table, her hips bucking to try and gain that extra millimeter of thrust that would end her torment.

Finally, when I felt I had enjoyed her body as much as was humanly possible in a single session without replenishing fluids, I gave her her final release.

Just as I had her wobbling at her very apex, I let myself ascend to my own climax. I gave a hoarse cry as I released inside her, gushing a fresh stream of liquid heat deep into her clenching pussy. As I hoped, this served as her trigger, detonating her nerve clusters and sending shards of dopamine tearing through her tissues.

I seemed to float above her in that moment, elevated by ecstasy. I could feel the rings of muscle within her convulse and cramp down on me as I ejaculated another hot blast into her. I saw her head thrown back, eyes wide but unfocused, mouth open in a silent scream. Her tits juddered violently, giving some indication of the warring internal convulsions wracking her body.

I fought the urge to crumple like a tin can with the force of my orgasm. I needed to watch her as wave after wave of seed poured out of me until my balls ached and my stomach muscles felt bruised.

Finally, while she was still shivering and moaning out the dying effects of our lust, I let myself fall forward onto my hands, panting furiously. But these too failed in my exhaustion and I ended up lying atop her, my cock still buried up to the hilt in her cream stuffed slot.

"Sweet boy," she said between breaths, kissing the sweat on my temples, "Darling boy. You make mommy feel so good. God how I love to feel your hot come inside me."