Rich Mom, Whore Mom Pt. 02

"Greg, could you please not throw wet towels on the bathroom floor?"

"Mom, leaving the towels on the floor is how room service knows to replace them. Read the damn sign."

"Well, I say it's just lazy."

Greg Maguire sat up on one side of the small motel room's double bed, TV remote in hand, surfing through the paltry selection of basic channels the place offered for free. The boredom vanished, instantly replaced by horny appreciation, when he saw his mother in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a towel. The cheap motel linens were thin and undersized, and the towel only covered Iris from halfway up her nipples to barely below her crotch. The generous curves and deep valley of her cleavage and the smoothly glistening flesh of her shapely legs were exposed to his smoldering blue eyes.

He turned off the television and flung the remote control onto the lamp table. "Lose the towel," he said with a lewd grin.

"Let's talk for a few minutes, first," Iris demurred. "About how things are going to be at your Aunt Vicky's. We'll have to make some adjustments."

"Like what, we're going to be sleeping in separate broom closets?"

"Hah! As if. You know Vicki and Barry are filthy rich. She's actually putting us up in our own place on the grounds. Plenty of space, plenty of privacy."

"Then what's the problem?"

Iris sat down on the edge of the bed. "For starts, take the attitude down a couple of notches. I need you on your best behavior--"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid."

"Oh, you're very much a man." Nearly twenty years old and built like an Olympic athlete, Greg was two hundred and twenty pounds of hard, lean muscle and animal aggression. He attacked life like a hungry prizefighter on his way up.

"Vicky hasn't seen you for a long time," Iris said. "You want to make a good first impression."

"I always do." His bravado was annoying, but another part of his magnetism. At least, Iris thought so.

"I'm serious. Promise me--"

"Sure, Mom. Whatever you say."

Greg shrugged and threw off the covers, exposing his fully erect cock. Iris's chiding words died in her throat. Her son had learned all too well how to derail her feeble attempts at discipline. Since she'd first gotten his huge, beautiful cock into her cunt she could never say "No" to him about anything and make it stick.

"This whole situation is screwed up. It's a goddamn shame Dad couldn't leave well enough alone. He had to go and spy on us. It's not like he was true to you, anyway. Everybody in town talked about it."

"So true. There's still such a thing as the double standard, especially in a small town like ours."

"I dunno why he'd even want to fuck somebody besides you. You're the greatest slut in the world."

"That's sweet of you to say." Iris smiled. "And you're right. And George knew what I was when he married me. Why ever would he think that I'd balk at fucking you. Once I got a good look at your this big pussy-pleaser, I was a goner."

She ran her fingers along the length of her son's cock. "God, how I do love this monster." When she leaned forward to plant a kiss on the plum-sized knob, Greg caught the corner of her towel and yanked it away.

"Yeah, that's how I like you," he said with a smirk.

"Oh my goodness! Why did you do that? Now look at me, I'm all naked!" Iris said with feigned indignation. She cupped her mammoth tits and lifted them, parting her legs to flash him an enticing glimpse at her pussy. "Yes, naked and ready for my son. My own flesh and blood." Her breath quickened under his roaming gaze. His prick surged in her hand.

"On your back, woman. I'm gonna fuck me some mother-cunt."

"Gregory Stone! Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

"Knock it off, Mom. You know you want it. We ain't fucked since this morning."

Iris steeled herself to not give in. Not right away. The battle between maternal good judgment and the irresistible demands of her horny cunt was one she'd lost ages ago. But she'd learned a few ways to get the upper hand.

"Look at how wet I am right now," she cooed. Reclining against her pillow she bent her knees and spread her milky thighs wide. Greg never could resist the sight of his mother's little slit. She'd shaved in the shower, teasing herself to the point that her cunt was moist and dewy with arousal.

"Suck Mommy's pussy, Greg. If you want to stick that horse's dick in me, you'll have to give me a good cum first. "

Without another word he crawled across the bed, his big cock swinging club-like between his legs. He dropped to his belly on the mattress and buried his face between his mother's thighs.

"Yesssss..." she sighed with relief. He slid his hands under her butt, raising her pelvis to the best angle for his tongue to deeply penetrate her drooling sex hole, He licked up and down the creases of her thighs with tantalizing slowness, once in a while swiping his tongue-tip lightly over her mound.

"Oh yeah, Baby." Iris gyrated her hips in small circles. "That's the way, take your time. "Mmm, I must be the luckiest mother in the world. You eat pussy better than any other man I've been with."

That wasn't just motherly pride speaking. The list of men who'd gone down on Iris was legion, but none sucked her with Greg's filial devotion. But then, she'd coached him patiently, exactly to her taste, and rewarded him for doing a good job in the way most meaningful to a strapping young stud: by draining his balls in endlessly creative ways. He was nearly as good now with his tongue as a woman.

It wasn't long before the delicious spasms started building deep inside her cunt. "I'm almost there, Baby. Keep licking, suck Mommy's clitty! There, right there, SO good..."

Propping his mother's ass up with only one hand, Greg slid two fingers up to their knuckles in her convulsing sex channel. She squealed in joyful surprise when he started finger-fucking her while kissing and nibbling at her clit.

"Cummminnnng!" Iris grabbed her son's head and held his face against her mound, draping her legs over his shoulders and grinding her hips against his mouth. "Jesus God I'm...I'm dying..."

She heaved her ass off the bed, squeezing her thighs around Greg's head as a fantastic orgasm wracked her from head to toe.

Greg pushed her legs apart and sat back on his haunches, pussy juice smeared and glistening on his chin. His hard prick jutted out over her stomach. "You ready now, slut?"

"Ready," Iris whispered hoarsely. "Take me now, Greg. Fuck your mother."

"Hah! As if." With that, Greg sprang forward and planted his knees on either side of her ribcage. His balls slapped and bounced against her tits. Before she could move he caught her wrists in his big hands and pulled her arms up above her head. The dark, angry head of his cock hovered a few inches from her face. "You sure you want this?"

"Greg, sweetheart--"

Pre-cum ran dripped in a long, sticky strand from the tip of his cock onto her chest. He dragged his cock-knob across her lips. "Show me how much you want my dick, Mom."

Iris's senses swam at his heat and the tantalizing flavor of hot male juice on her lips. She flicked her tongue out to swipe up a few drops of the crystal-clear liquid. Her mouth gaped open. "Feed me," she mewled.

Greg shoved the first several inches of his cock into her waiting mouth so abruptly that she gagged momentarily. She opened her mouth as far as she possibly could, relaxing her muscles to give him a clear open path to the bottom of her throat.

Iris took a whorish pride in being able to swallow her son's entire prick all at once. Despite decades of giving blowjobs to big guys from eighteen to eighty, Greg's enormous rod had been a challenge to get down her throat at all in the beginning. Fortunately, he was more than happy to make himself available for her to practice any time she wanted.

Wet gurgling sounds filled the room as the voluptuous blonde mother worked her mouth over her son's plunging cock. Saliva overflowed her lips and dripped down her chin. She put her hands on the backs of his thighs to steady herself and to hold him still. As much as Greg enjoyed pumping his mother's mouth hard for a lusty face-fuck, tonight she was in the mood to offer her son something even more thrilling.

With Greg's cock lodged completely down her throat, his swollen scrotum pressed against her chin, Iris concentrated on breathing slowly in and out through her nose. She rhythmically contracted and relaxed the muscles of her throat, squeezing and releasing his steely shaft. At the same time, she flexed and rolled her tongue in an undulating motion along the underside of his cock.

Back in the small town they'd called home until a few days ago, Iris Maguire's magical milking mouth was the stuff of local legend. She could keep a man on the edge of nutting for as long as she chose, savoring a leisurely pre-cum cocktail, then making him climax and slurping down a satisfying meal of jism.

No one's jism was as thick, rich, and delicious as Greg's. Her son was so young and potent, she'd bet that his semen must be chock full of enough sperm to impregnate the female population of the entire Midwest.

She took her time, coaxing him close to the edge and then easing up on him several times before deciding that she'd waited long enough. She gave him a final flick of her tongue tip right behind his glans. He went completely stiff and came with a roar that shook the flimsy bed frame.

"Mmmm," she moaned, swallowing greedily as the first sizzling shot of son-spunk rifled down her throat. But before she could swallow a second spurt, Greg yanked his cock out of her mouth. Cum fountained and splashed onto her face and tits.

"What are you doing?" she gasped. His only answer was to hook his arms under her knees and pull her leg up and open, pointing his prick at the wet pink target between her legs.

Greg slammed his massive cock full-length into his mother in one thrust. He was still cumming, pumping jism forcefully up her cunt.

"Aieeee!" Iris shrieked like a madwoman as the biggest cock she'd ever taken suddenly plugged her pussy, almost blacking out from the intense, wicked joy of having her own son fill her unprotected womb with his potent seed.

"Oh yeah, fuck me, Baby!" she cried out as she recovered from the first shock of his penetration. She arched her back, lifting her hips and humping like a wild animal. "Fuck Mommy hard!"

Greg's balls were empty but he kept right on pounding his mother's pussy. With every inward stroke, she snapped her cunt tight around his plundering prick to keep him hard. He plunged into her unceasingly, driving inch after inch of hard teen meat into her tight, buttery depths. His hands closed on her mammoth tits, squeezing and molding them.

"Harder, stud! Split me in two!" Iris ran her hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples before reaching around to grab his pistoning ass. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, spurring him on to hammer her harder. Even though he'd cum only minutes before, his cock was as stiff as when she would wake him for their first fuck of the morning.

Greg's balls slapped her ass as he picked up the pace, pulling out until only his cock-knob was embedded between her sopping pussy lips and then driving full force into her on each stroke. "Ya like that, Mom?" he grunted. "Tell me how much you like having your pussy stretched out by my fat prick."

"You...know...I...DO!" She could barely speak, her breath coming in short hard gasps. He knew the answer, anyway; his cock took her to heights of ecstasy she'd never dreamt of in all her slutty adventures until the day she'd seduced her son.

"I'm gonna blow again! Gonna fill your slutty cunt 'til you overflow!"

"Again? Again? Sweet Jesus!" The kid was more than a bull, he was a fucking machine. With a last thrust, he sank his whole prick into her and erupted, blasting another hot geyser of cum all the way to her cervix.

Greg pulled out of his mother and rolled onto his back, completely spent.

For the moment.

Iris didn't doubt that her son would be ready for another lusty round within the hour. She patted his wilting rod lovingly. In her secret heart, she admitted to herself that her son had conquered her after all. She belonged to him, for him to love, to use however he desired, or abandon if he liked. She hoped against hope that he would never fully grasp that truth. Then she would be utterly powerless.

"Remember what you promised before," she whispered. "Never you mind all the complaining I might have done about your Aunt Vicky over the years. You treat her nice. With respect."

"I'm gonna fuck her," Greg bragged. "Same as I fuck you."

"Okay. But you might get that chance sooner if you do exactly as Mother says."

"You got a plan?"

"Not yet. But I've got ideas."

####

The guest house on the grounds of the Stone estate was a brick cottage with three bedrooms and a large sitting room, located a five-minute walk from the manor house. "I hope you two will be comfortable here," Victoria said as she showed Iris around the place.

"Comfortable? Vicky, it's twice the size of the house you and I grew up in!"

"It is, isn't it?" They laughed together and, on impulse, Victoria threw her arms around her sister and hugged her close. Iris stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sis. It's been too long," Victoria said.

"Yeah, way too long."

Iris had changed remarkably little over the years since her sister had last seen her. She was still bubbly, energetic, and outgoing in contrast to Victoria's shy reticence. Iris was a toucher--as she wandered around the sitting room, running her hands over the antique furniture and the granite and brass details of the wall-sized hearth, Victoria marveled at how untroubled she appeared to be given all that had befallen her.

Not that Iris was always so unflappable. The long rift between them testified to that.

Iris and Barry had dated long before he and Victoria had gotten together. But then, promiscuous Iris had dated everybody in school. She noticed Victoria's interest in Barry and, characteristically, took it in her stride.

"I'm not stuck on him, Sis," she'd confided. "He's got a big dick, but there's no shortage of that kind, not for me. I'm kind of a big-cock magnet, right?"

Yet as Victoria and Barry had grown closer, Victoria and Iris had grown distant from one another. They'd always been close, sometimes too close, in ways both exciting and troubling, and the emotional distance hurt. But Victoria assumed that they'd get past it--that was, until the night before her wedding.

She didn't remember how the argument had started, but it ended with Iris accusing her of disloyalty, and her screaming back that Iris was just plain jealous. The next morning, a seemingly unperturbed Iris had cheerfully performed her duties as maid of honor and been the center of all the guys' attention at the reception. But by the time the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon Iris had eloped with one of Barry's groomsmen and left town.

It was months before the sisters spoke again, and years before they saw one another. Lighthearted, outgoing Iris, who'd never been one to hold a grudge, had kept Victoria at arm's length ever since.

"You have such lovely things," Iris said. "I love everything about the place. As for Greg, Hell, just tell me that the Wi-Fi's good. That's all he'll care about." She noticed that Veronica was distracted. "What's on your mind? Is this all too weird?"

"No! Not a bit," Victoria half-lied. "I was just remembering...stuff. I'm honestly surprised at how well you're taking the split. I can't believe that George is so determined to screw you out of your share of everything."

Iris shrugged. "Brought it on myself. I'll land on my feet, just give me time to catch my breath. But that's not all that's on your mind, isn't there?"

Victoria was startled. "What makes you say that?"

"Who do you think you're talking to? I know you too well, Vicky. When I called the other day you were fine--for being you--and now it seems like the weight of the world is pressing down on you. Things okay between you and Barry?"

"Sure. I mean, we're not fighting or anything. But it gets lonely with him gone most of the time." She meant to leave it at that but having her sister and longtime confidant back caused her to let down her guard. "I don't do 'alone' well. Never did. And then I do things I shouldn't."

"Things?" Iris looked intrigued. "You mean things like, uh, sexy things? Oh, sweetheart, you're not banging the butler?"

"Oh, Christ! Is sex all that's ever on your mind?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But look at you, you're beet red from the tips of your ears to...everywhere, probably. I hit a nerve. Come on, I can tell when you're horny." She lowered her voice, stepping closer to Victoria. "I always could."

Iris slipped an arm around her sister's waist and led her to sit on the sofa. Victoria was shocked at how easily she still responded when Iris kissed her on the lips. But then guilt reared up in her and she pulled away.

"Please don't, Iris. We're not young anymore."

"I'm not old. I don't feel old." Iris cupped one of Victoria's tits through her top. "And you sure don't look old. What have you done to yourself? Come on, let's have a look."

Before Victoria could object, Iris's nimble fingers had her shirt unbuttoned and off of her shoulders.

"Wow. I like!"

"You're incorrigible. You--you really like them?"

"What, are you an idiot? They're perfect."

"They were kind of a retirement gift when I stopped modeling. They didn't exactly go with my runway look."

"You were a gazelle, that's for sure." A shadow passed over Iris's face. "So Barry paid for those?"

Victoria nodded uncomfortably. "I always envied you," she deflected. "You inherited Mom's big boobs."

"These itty-bitty things?" Iris pulled her own tee shirt off over her head and unsnapped her bra, letting her big tits bounce free. "Your turn."

"Haven't we both outgrown this?" Victoria feigned exasperation. "Because I have."

"The hell you have. The only difference between us, Vicky, is that I'm honest about what I want and I go for it. You're as hot-blooded as I am."

"Am not! You always started it."

"Not always. The first time, maybe. But after that? You begged for it. You loved it every time."

Victoria stared open-mouthed at her sister for several seconds. "I did," she finally confessed. "I loved it."

"And you still do. Look at you squirming around, you can't sit still even talking about fucking. Loneliness is driving you nuts. Loneliness and horniness." Iris kissed Victoria again, this time on the neck, working upward to her ear. "But we're together now and we're gonna fix that. The way that we always did."

Victoria squeezed her thighs together and pressed her clasped hands into her lap, willing her pussy to stop tingling. It didn't work. She felt wetness seep into her panties.

"I'll tell you a secret, Vicky. I was never angry that you landed Barry," Iris whispered. "I was jealous of him for taking you away from me."

Iris's words bridged the distance between them and swept away the decades. It was as they were back in the little bedroom that they'd shared all their lives, right through high school and even their first years of college--before Victoria had won the state pageant, dropped out, and moved to New York to pursue her modeling career.

Their relationship changed after Iris turned eighteen. Night after night, Victoria had listened from her lower bunk as her younger sister had sighed and moaned and masturbated to orgasm in the warm darkness.

At first, the sounds went on for half an hour or so before Iris settled down, letting Victoria drift off to sleep at a reasonable hour. With time, Iris got louder and went on longer, obsessively getting herself off well into the early morning hours. One night, Victoria had finally had enough. "Some of us have morning classes," she'd objected.