Ralph Wrecked It Pt. 03

Droplets and twirling threads flew airborne as he quickly stuffed his glossy meat into his shorts, apologizing profusely.

"No, no no!" I said, my hand on his stubble, "Don't be sorry. It was a wonderful moment for me, darlin'. Thank you for sharing it." He seemed to want to retreat upstairs. I resisted the temptation to turn the shirt up to rub his sperm into my stomach, or even more so, slurp the white fluid out of the fabric. My mind raced. I didn't want to leave the room, even on the off chance that there was a replacement shirt for me in the dryer in the nearby laundry room. I decided to keep the top on, despite being plastered with my son's jizz. It seemed like a badge of honor. In my past experience with sperm-splattered clothes, I knew in about twenty minutes I'd begin to dry.

"Sorry about the phone, darlin'," I stepped back to my chair. "Shall we continue?" I would worry about the jizz-splattered floor later.

Caleb, winded with his face red, smirked and said okay as I settled back in and finished the diary. As my son sipped more coffee, I then went back and read the entries Darleen had written about exposing herself to her brother, who climbed up the woodpile in their sloped side yard to watch her change clothes through the window. I had skipped any reference to her lusting after her brother, but interjected them at this point. I hoped it would make the impact of Ralph's written confession about their first fucks more dramatic.

Caleb knew Ralph, but only as an elderly man on Zoom calls we made to say hello. I of course recently visited my granduncle in person, but his health was not good.

I swore Caleb to secrecy, and read the story of the two horny siblings while Caleb worked happily on his second boner out of sight below the counter once more. My astute son realized the nature of the letter only a short way through the story, but saved his question until the end.

"Mum?" he asked, the twinkle in his eye having reappeared. "Who was this letter written to? I mean , who would he confide in with such a damning admission? Who is 'dear one'? Grandma Lindy?"

"No, it's me," I said, smiling sentimentally. Lindy was my mom, Belinda.

Caleb made the correct assumption. "So was he the one that...you?"

"Yes, I fucked the same man that fucked his sister, my grandmother Darleen, who fucked her father, who had evidently fucked his mother, who said she was by fucked her father. This probably continued back forever."

My son's mouth actually hung open. Then the recent generational logistics naturally began to confound him.

"How old was he..? Um..." Caleb stuttered, trying not to offend.

"He was sixty, I was eighteen."

"I suppose that's something you won't talk about. The details, I mean." I felt like he was baiting me. He wants to hear it, I thought. That's my boy.

"Why?" I grinned. Non-verbal until he was five, Caleb was certainly coming out of his shell today.

"Mums don't tell their sons about their...sex," he replied.

"Most sons don't want to know, but maybe some do?" I pointed at him, wiggling my finger.

"Well, honestly. this part of it , um..." Caleb was hesitant.

"Incest. You can say it That's what you want me to tell you about?"

He nodded.

"Do you want the Cliff Notes, or vulgar, graphic detail?"

"Not sure what Cliff Notes are, but graphic detail would be nice." he said tentatively, as if he was still waiting for some kind of permission. "Can I ask questions as we go?"

"Of course." I replied, then hummed a note of concern. "We need a better location than this. Need to get some more photo albums anyway."

"More albums?"

"Yes, you need to see what I looked like back then, not the middle-aged wreck I am now."

"You're still quite beautiful now, Mum," he said as he arose. I kissed his cheek and thanked him. I hoped he meant what he said. At least as well kept as a network news anchor or maybe a second shift weather girl, I still considered myself a MILF, having spent hours on the treadmill, elliptical stepper, and shoving weights around in our home gym. I did Botox, fillers, hyaluronic this and peptide that to fight off nature.

4

So, we had adjourned to the 'library', which had been my ex-husband's office. Ethan was an associate university professor. We flew out west and had a tacky Las Vegas wedding after only dating a few months. I guess I was feeling vulnerable since I had lost my mom and dad in a small plane crash during a New Hampshire ski trip just the previous year. With the 'I do's', I was instantly a step mom to three brats from his first marriage.

Ethan was a bit serious, and we counterbalanced each other, to a point. But, like a lot of men, he couldn't keep it in his pants, despite my attempts to keep his dick occupied. Perpetuating the cliché, he got his admin assistant pregnant, and I kicked his ass out, since it was my house anyway. Ethan and his mistress married and ended up with twins. Combined with her kids from a first marriage, they are up to seven. I doubt if he has any spare time to fuck around anymore.

Anyway, his emptied office had big comfy chairs and a desk for flipping through family photos once again. Barely bikini-covered me at the senior beach trip, graduation, random parties, and cleavage-gown formal events. MJ's narcissism at its finest. Caleb and I were sitting on the same side of the desk now, so I could turn album pages and narrate.

My arms still had surgery and other scars from me falling off that balcony, and I showed them to Caleb once more, Sitting back in the puffy black leather chairs, I began the story. I told it not much differently than in the first part of this series. It was strangely arousing, talking to my son about how suddenly horny I became the night I inadvertently made Ralph come from a footjob.

I was only as far as lifting my dress to tease my uncle, and describing my trimmed pussy in explicit detail, how I kept my pubes short so as not to disguise the protruding labia that seemed to have tied themselves in knots fighting their way out of my slit, when Caleb was hard as a rock inside the shorts. There was a beautiful long bulge, visibly jolting.

"You can go ahead with that," I prodded, pointing to his crotch. I made a stroking notion, my heart racing. Would he actually do it?

"Mum, I didn't think you were serious. Tossing off in front of you?"

"You don't like my story?" I gestured to his organ, now only a few feet from me. I could see the outline of the mushroom head, straining at the end of the bulge. Damn the long shorts. A few less inches of fabric and I could see it.

" I love your story Mum." His eyes were bright and looking at me differently than ever before. "This is...fun."

"Then go ahead. It's kinda the point, ain't it.?" I said, using my Grammy's hillbilly 'diary' accent.

"This time is different."

"How?"

"It's about you, and you're like, right there." he said, gesturing.

Maybe a bit of trouble separating the 'mom' from visions of the horny young me, I guessed.

"How about we turn the chairs around, at least to start."

"Okay." I was a little disappointed, but knew I had to pace myself. Baby steps. Finesse.

Soon I was telling my son how I barged into my Granduncle's room, braless, bush exposed, and tripped him up, only to swoop down and engulf his soft cock in my mouth.

Sitting with the back of my head nearly touching my son's, I talked about how much I loved sucking dick and how I was choking on my uncle's. While I carried on about riding Ralph' shaft like a crazed cowgirl, tits flailing, I gradually pivoted in the low back seat, first on one knee, then the other, looking over Caleb's shoulder. Finally, I could fully see my son's erection, a smooth, lengthy beauty like his father's.

Caleb seemed to like that I was watching, as I talked into his ear about a mouthful of family sperm from Ralph after a stringent doggy session and naively thinking I was the first incestuous volunteer, he began to speak.

"Mum! Mumsy! Do... you...see?" His voice was childlike, winded and broken by his quick strokes. He gripped the tufted leather arm with his other hand.

"Yes! I see, I see, my wonderful son! I leaned over the seatback and flung my arms around his collar bone. "Mommy loves you so much!" I said into his ear and kissed it. "Show Mommy how well you can do it!" My palms caressed his pectorals as he jolted and cried out.

I had a perfect view in the well-lit room as my offspring's cock exploded, firing jet after jet in long white arches out onto the floor. My son convulsed, moaned and gasped.

I repeated his name three times and thanked him for sharing with me. I slathered him with kisses on his neck and cheek, and he turned to kiss me back. I felt the slightest bit of his tongue on my lips, but then he retreated and his eyes began to look wet. His cock had lost none of its size or redness yet, but some of its elevation, a long white string of translucent semen still hanging from the head.

Without losing touch, I abandoned my chair and spun over to him, careful not to slide on the beautiful puddles of semen on the dark wood floor. I knelt in front of him, easily done between his hairy legs, widened as he slouched. One of my knees dragged some of his jizz across the floor, and I stretched my foot to lower my shin into the remaining pools and I pivoted a leg to play in it like a windshield wiper. He looked surprised but giggled as his cock, still out of his shorts, grazed my jaw, then slid down my neck and was inverted between my breasts briefly as I slid up to his eye level. Still solid, it was difficult not to just grab it and use it to impale something of mine, but I had to stick with this passive, incidental contact, at least for now. I could feel droplets of sperm on my neck.

I kissed Caleb, just a peck, propping myself up on the high padded arms of the chair. I pulled back, and I could see my own reflection in his blue eyes. The reflection's bleached blonde mop of hair, unruly as always, shifted to the side as Caleb's lips parted.

My first incestuous, romantic kiss with my son was brief, wet and caused a guttural moan to echo within him. Just a few seconds of gentle tongue swipe. I doubted it was his first 'French', as back in Canberra he did have a trickling of girls around, often friends or sisters of his older brother's dates. Maybe one of them was able to coax Caleb out of his shell enough for a smooch during a game of truth or dare, or some such teen mischief.

We parted and separated a few inches, smiling. I had no intention of escalating. Not only was I biding my time, I was wearing an ugly, utilitarian bra. Not that I expected him to rip my clothes off anyway. The smooth cups look nice under t-shirts and sweaters, but are hideous on their own. I had no idea that Caleb would be visiting me this morning. I was going to have to upgrade my choices from now on.

I helped my son stuff his sticky, slightly shrunken pink cock into his shorts by tugging outward on his waistband., then looking down into his shorts as it snuggled in for a snooze in the nest of his light brown pubes.

5

We spent the rest of the afternoon as 'normal' mother and son, eating lunch and I even played Call of Duty with Caleb and his online crew. Let's just say I was killed more than a few times. I had better stick to online gambling. Yes, I changed out of my sperm-crusted top beforehand, saving it carefully in a freezer bag. A charcoal gray, sheer lace bra beneath a white tennis shirt were the replacements.

After dinner we headed back up to his room, him with wine and glasses, me with a laptop I bought for this special project. .

"What's that for?" he asked after noticing I was toting it with me.

"A surprise." I said flatly.

We got comfy side-by-side on his large sofa, and I navigated to a folder, but left the cursor on it, unopened.

"When you told me how you videoed your cousins in the bathroom, It gave me an idea. You don't have to watch these, but I hope you will."

:This isn't vids of you and Dad is it?" he said, his brow lowered.

"No!" I laughed. "I ordered cameras and put them up in my bathroom, one at the counter, one in the shower. I try my best to forget they're there."

Caleb looked shocked. "All these are for me?"

"Yes darling, for you. A few weeks worth. I only edited out idle time and me scrolling through my iPad while shitting. Before you say yes, I have a couple...requests. I want to watch you watch, and when you're okay with it, maybe help you with..." I pantomimed giving a handjob for a few strokes.

"You want to wank me?" he said, not looking directly at me.

"Yes. Very much. You do it because your boner bothers you, right, in a manner of speaking?" I asked.

He nodded, nearly looking at me.

"So if your neck hurts, you don't mind if I rub you there?"

"Um, no."

"So think of this as a neck rub, just lower."

My son grinned, but still seemed to be contemplating.

"So just let me know. Always glad to lend a hand, or two."

My humor escaped Caleb, but fortunately due to his distraction at the page full of folders on my laptop screen. Ever the organized one, he clicked on the top left folder. And then the first MP4 within. My early efforts at camera placement were a bit rough, but one could clearly make out M.J., early in the morning, bed head hair, braless tits heavy in a tank top, quaking as I brushed my teeth. Bending forward to rinse revealed their swaying upper curvature.

"Damn Mumsy..." Caleb said in a half whisper as his mother on the screen's shirt came off and she slid down her panties. This was possibly my son's first full view of me naked! Pale breasts hung and shook, bloated nipples danced and disappeared from view as the figure, bush trimmed, moderately tan lined, spun to turn the water on in the shower and step in. The glass doors fogged quickly, obscuring the tall bleached blonde within.

The clip ended, a click and the folder appeared once more.

Caleb's cock was nearly bursting from his shorts, jolting like a captive reptile. He clicked on the very next folder. Video of his nude, forty-four year old mother, soaked and stepping from the shower, appeared and reached for a large fluffy green towel. While my hard-cocked son watched the image of his nude mother dry off, limbs extending, flesh contorting and rhythmically flexing, I almost began to cry at this ultimate, absolute compliment, that, even at my age, I gave my son an erection.

"This is so awesome!" He was beaming.

"At first I didn't think about the glass fogging, so I got a second camera. The shower cams are further down the page."

"Bloody brilliant," Caleb said with a huge smile, clicking the next file, watching a clip of me taking a late night piss. "Thank you!"

Soon my son's cock was out, tall, beautiful and lit by the screen and the partially dimmed overhead lights it was pointing at. We didn't look each other in the eyes. My son's attention was on his 'mum', stripping to bathe or in a bra, blow drying her hair on the way out of the house.

While Caleb watched me on screen, I watched his hand stroke his magnificent dick. Yank, rub, stroke, twist, bend. Skin stretching and gathering, seemingly getting redder from excitement or friction. It was all I could do not to drop my shorts and impale myself on it. It wasn't long before Caleb began to squirm.

"Mum"? he asked, a bit frantic. "This is so cool. A little help?"

"Lube?" I asked, having tucked a tube into my shorts pocket earlier. I kept it handy downstairs for my rectal self-pleasure toys, of course. I made a mental note to buy more. It's kind of fun seeing the reactions of the cashiers at the drug store when I buy it, especially the young men. Within seconds, I was touching my adult son's gorgeous erection, savoring the feel of his skin, taut and warm. Simply blissful. Soon I was spreading KY with a quick up and down cadence, squeezing as hard as I could. It felt wonderful, and I knew I would always remember this day. My panties, the third pair of the day after witnessing him orgasm twice already, were soaked.

I was sitting cross-legged perpendicular to him, stroking him with my right hand, using my left to join occasionally after playing with his lubed, kiwi fruit-sized testes. His pubes were matted and the lube was flying off in drops as I increased my speed at his request. .

In moments, my son's warm sperm was airborne, flinging itself all over his shirt, lowered shorts, and my hands and wrist, Caleb leaned in to hug and kiss me once more. My dripping hands raised and held out of the way, I made out with winded Caleb, sweetly, giggling a bit as we parted. I was so in love with him, I thought as I licked his semen off my wrist and forearm. He rolled his eyes as his delicious fluid graced my mouth.

6

With the diary, letter, and my narcissistic videos successfully stimulating my son, the next week I brought Ralph's pornographic surprises to Caleb, and I jerked my gorgeous son off as he watched his grandmother, Lindy, when in her early thirties, act in her uncle's porn movie, sucking and taking him anally, until her character washed up on a beach, naked and supposedly strangled. Despite her role as a murder victim, she seemed happy as an actress. There were unedited shots of her standing naked, laughing and joking with the cast and crew, eating a sandwich and having a cigarette without a care in the world. She hid the fact that she and Ralph had been lovers well, as I never heard a whisper about it, which was untrue about most of her other affairs. I missed both of them regardless, I thought as I quickly stroked away on Caleb's meat.

The surprises included the black and white nude pictures of Darleen, artistic but revealing. It was a bare breasted shot at which Caleb was staring when his cock began to spew long, thick spurts upward. I had asked him earlier about expanding our fun, offering anything in my arsenal, but he said he 'liked things they way they were right now'.

The following Friday night, I upped my game by showing up to Caleb's room in an older black lace halter nightgown, short and sheer. The upper half was stretchy, cradling and controlling my tits somewhat, but it was my first braless appearance in his room nonetheless. Below there was a pair of neon green, sheer-crotched thong panties.

Caleb and I got comfy on the sofa, his cock up and out, me cross-legged and perpendicular once more, nightgown skirt hiked up to my waist to show off the panties' lack of opacity. I began to play with his genitals as he, thanks to Ralph, clicked through the digital archives of vacation photos. Listed randomly, a dozen normal tourist photos would be followed by me, just-fucked sweaty and nude at night on a neon-cityscape Tokyo hotel balcony, or topless, bronzed and free of tan lines, knee deep in the surf on a Greek island, then wet t-shirted in a cold Marseilles hotel pool, or squatting open-legged, pantyless and skirt held up as a small crowd gathered around to watch on a snowy Stockholm sidewalk. When the ambient light was good inside a hotel or stateroom or car, my mouth would suddenly find itself filled with Ralph's cock, what they call POV shots these days.

I would usually rub Caleb's dick skin-to-skin when getting started, addicted to feeling it swell and grow. He was quickly rock hard, and I was about to open the KY, when I heard a door shut downstairs. Shit! Shit! It was close, probably the entrance to the third floor stairs, our location! Shit! Shit! Shit! It was 10:45 PM.

I froze and panicked, one hand still clutching his shaft. There were no alarms; whoever the invaders were knew the code to get past the gated neighborhood's guard shack, unmanned this time of night, and the house's security code. I hadn't installed the security camera software on this laptop, and I had no time to wait for Caleb to go playback the video on his. If not burglars, the noise could have been our housekeeper, but she was never here on weekends; I could barely get her to show up three weekdays.