S'mothering

She began to turn her trembling daughter towards her. Kelly was gasping for breath, looking down in disbelief and shame at her hands, at her body.

Martin's cum was spattered on her stomach. Ropey, wet strings of it clung from one finger to the next as she slowly parted her hands.

Martin's cock spasmed again. A long strand of cum dripped from it, stretched, and descending slowly to the floor.

Kelly raised her head slowly. Her mouth moved soundlessly as she turned to her mother.

"Why..?" she whispered, hoarsely, frowning at her mother. "Why did you do this?"

She raised her hands, frozen into claws, and turned them over. There were lines of cum and wet spatters all over them.

Martin stood dumbly behind her, the angle of his cock less aggressive.

"Look at me," Kelly complained.

Her breasts swayed as she moved. She raised her hands and wiped them suddenly on the front of her mother's blouse.

"I hate you," Kelly sobbed. "I hate you. Look at me."

Her hands left wet smears on Cynthia's white blouse. Cynthia took a step back but Kelly moved with her.

"I hate you," Kelly whispered, her voice cracked, failing her.

"You don't hate me," Cynthia said.

Kelly's hair hung down about her face as she slowly wiped her hands on her mother's chest, squashing her breasts, causing them to move.

Kelly sniffed. She shook her head slowly.

"I don't... I don't understand why you did this," she whispered miserably.

"You don't hate me," Cynthia said again. Her expression hardened and she took hold of Kelly's wrists and shook her.

"Mom, please. Let me go," Kelly said, trying to pull away. She was becoming more frantic.

The two of them struggled briefly but Cynthia was the stronger.

She bore her daughter down to the floor, first to her knees, then Cynthia moved with her, relentlessly pushing Kelly down on her side.

She forced her onto her back and Kelly looked up at her, wide eyed, confused. Her knees were raised, her thighs wide open.

Cynthia glanced at Martin as she knelt, bent over her daughter. He hadn't moved. He was watching. She saw his gaze flicker to Kelly's exposed pussy and uncaring she turned back to her daughter.

"You don't hate me. I won't let you hate me."

She released Kelly's wrists and moved on her knees until she was above her, looking down into her daughter's upturned, apprehensive gaze.

"I'll show you," Cynthia panted.

She moved quickly then to kneel astride Kelly's face. She felt her daughter's forehead, her nose, her chin, between her legs and Cynthia writhed her hips and bore down with her weight.

Kelly's arms thrashed the air. Her legs kicked. She made muffled, urgent, frightened sounds between her mother's legs.

Cynthia caught her daughter's flailing hands. She squeezed her thighs together and ground herself against Kelly's face. Her daughter's thrashing body lay stretched out beneath her.

Cynthia narrowed her lips, she writhed her hips. Kelly bucked and twisted beneath her.

"Mom?" Martin took a slow, uncertain step towards her. He looked worried and had one arm raised as if to try to stop her.

Cynthia ignored him. She raised herself a fraction momentarily to let Kelly snatch a breath of air then she lowered herself again. Kelly kicked and struggled again but with less violence this time.

Cynthia released her wrists and Kelly pawed her mother's thighs but slowly her struggles lessened. Her hands rested on her mother's thighs.

Martin stood nearby watching open mouthed.

Cynthia raised her skirt and leaned forward to look down between her legs. All she could see of Kelly's face was the tip of her chin. She raised herself again, letting her skirt fall to hide Kelly's face.

The next time she lowered herself she took her time, feeling the contours of Kelly's face beneath her, gently rocking her hips, staring down at her daughter's breasts then lower at her splayed legs.

Cynthia closed her eyes and moaned softly. Her breath came faster. She dropped her head and let her mouth open. She writhed her hips and concentrated, then she caught her breath and held it until she climaxed.

She shuddered and opened her eyes and looked up at Martin. His cock was hard again.

Cynthia moved back, exposing Kelly's pretty face. Kelly's hair was stuck to her flushed cheeks. Her chest rose and fell as she gasped for breath. A red blush extended almost to her heaving breasts.

Her eyes flickered to her mother kneeling over her and she shook her head weakly from side to side then saw her brother.

Martin slowly moved his hand to his cock and grasped it. He stroked it absently, a dull cautious look in his eyes.

Cynthia watched him as she unbuttoned her blouse. She slipped it off and let it fall, then she took off her bra.

She stood up as Martin's hand moved slowly on his cock. They were both watching her, their lips slightly parted, breathing quietly as Cynthia undressed before them.

"Lie down on the floor," she said to Martin.

He lay down cautiously, slowly, beside his sister. He put his hands by his side, his cock stood up, swollen, and he turned his head to watch as Cynthia approached him. Her breasts swayed heavily. Her pubic hairs were thick and dark and she saw his gaze fixed on her crotch.

Kelly raised herself on one elbow and watched.

Cynthia stood above Martin and smiled down at him. He was panting, his mouth open. She knelt down and then she moved herself over his face. She felt his breath on her wet pussy. His cock twitched. She lowered herself slowly and felt his nose squashed beneath her. She felt his tongue and then she bore down gently. His chest rose and then he seemed to freeze beneath her. His body became rigid. His fingers were splayed.

"Mom?" Kelly whispered, a note of worry in her tone.

Cynthia looked at her and shook her head. She waited and then raised herself a fraction. Martin gasped beneath her. His chest rose and fell rapidly and she lowered herself again. She could feel his round, hard cheekbones beneath her, his face becoming hot, becoming wet with her juices. His nose was between the cheeks of her bottom. Her pussy squashed his lips. She moved her hips slightly forward and back and squeezed her thighs and his hands closed into tight fists.

Cynthia panted. She let him breath again and this time she held herself poised an inch above his face. Martin moved his hands, they found her thighs. She stiffened as she felt his tongue working wetly and enthusiastically around her asshole.

She began to raise and lower herself, her breasts shook as his tongue jabbed repeatedly at her asshole. She saw his cock stiffen even more and he spurted a thick stream of cum. She bore down on his face, rubbing herself against him as he writhed and struggled beneath her. His cock jerk and he ejaculated again.

Cynthia climaxed, her hips jerked powerfully. She doubled over, gasping. Then she saw his cock before her, softening now, leaning, decorated with his glistening cum. She moved down his body and took it in her mouth. His body arched beneath her as she took his full length, tasting his cum.

She moaned as she raised her head, drawing her lips over the length of his cock, feeling his skin soft, his swollen head, softening.

Kelly lay nearby, her thighs spread wide, and looked up at her as Cynthia got slowly, shakily, to her feet, smiling, panting, her lips wet with Martin's cum.

She stood over them both, triumphant, looking down at them from one to the other, her feet apart. Her chest rose and fell.

Martin stirred weakly. He raised his head to look at her. Kelly drew up her legs and sat at Cynthia's feet, then she rose to her knees, before her mother. Slowly, cautiously, she reached out a hand and touched her mother's thigh, caressed it gently, staring, watching what she was doing.

Beside her Martin drew himself up weakly and they both knelt at her feet. No one spoke but they both moved at the same time.

Cynthia felt their lips, their hot breath as they kissed her thighs. She felt their hands moving lightly, exploring, reaching for her breasts, feeling cautiously between her legs, squeezing her bottom, caressing every inch of her, investigating, curious. Smiling, she looked down into their shy, excited, upturned faces.