The Ball Game

If I was a smidge lower, that one bump may have been enough for me to slip inside. Thankfully, my dick was slightly too long to allow that, and instead the fat bloated head only managed to push through her fluffy runway of pubic hair. For now my length trudged through her meaty, honey soaked slit as she continued to baste my cock with her juices.

Mom whispered to me through clenched teeth. "Evan, what do we do?"

I had nothing to offer her. "I don't know, but I can't get off the bus like this, everyone will see me. It's not going to go away." My voice was as hollow and empty as my head.

Another dip in the road caused Mom's legs to come together as she braced for the impact, firmly securing my dick against her sweltering box as she tightly constricted her thighs around me. Her supple thigh meat no longer simply teased me. They were now using the coating of Mom's slippery syrup to effortlessly slide over me, mimicking my vision of what she might feel like inside. As we jostled around, the smallest movements made my dick rub against her slit and pushed me through the small gap between her thighs, treating me to the velvet sensation of her supple skin jerking me off. I figured my cock head was probably glistening with all the nectar she was dripping onto me, and the ease with which I slid between her thighs confirmed that.

Mom's legs were closed around me so tightly that it felt as though she was drawing me into her, unconsciously dragging my cock further towards her entrance with every minor shift. I ignored the part of me that saw the obvious signs. The ones that I saw earlier, and the ones I would be seeing now if I wasn't currently inches away from entering my Mother.

I knew the steps I could take to end this. I could stand up, rush to the front of the bus and get off at the next stop to grab an Uber. Hell, even Mom could have stood in the aisle if she was truly opposed to grinding on me, but she didn't. She wasn't.

I told myself that she was saving me the embarrassment of being stuck on a bus with a visibly throbbing erection, but the slow, methodical pace with which Mom rocked back and forth told me there was something else at play. I didn't know if it was intentional, but it felt as though it had to be. I couldn't believe such a fact, even when it was reinforced by the uncontrollable flutter of her breath.

I couldn't ignore the way her body tensed every time my throbbing stiffness nudged against her sensitive button, and I surely couldn't ignore her when she took to subtly humping her backside against me, even when there were no bumps to motivate her. I couldn't tell if she was doing it consciously or not, but I was too enthralled to care.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, adjusting to the reality that we were experiencing. I had never wondered before what my Mother's vagina felt like, and now it was a sensation I was actively fantasizing over.

My bulging head pressed against Mom's tiny, pink nub and she impulsively reached her hand down with a soft whimper as she tried to make a wall between the two of us. She wedged her hand amidst the fluff of her dress in a frantic search to shield herself from me, but instead found the head of my cock throbbing against her fingertips.

Her first touch was timid, but whatever was holding her back quickly dissipated as she toyed with the spongy helmet between her legs. I pulsed in response, eager for another touch. In the reflection of the window, I could see her awe-struck stare as she let her fingers gingerly prod against the mass hidden beneath her dress. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she likely felt the same powerful draw towards curiosity and confused lust that I did. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she wrapped her entire hand around the helmet.

Mom's palm encircled the head with her thumb gently brushing my frenulum as she held my dick like she was admiring it. Despite the obscured visual, I got the impression that Mom was trying to memorize the shape of my cock with her hands. Never had I felt myself explored with such intrigue, as though I was being relished with affectionate lust.

Perhaps she felt less averse to touching me because of the dress, or perhaps she was just that curious of what she couldn't see.

The dress was so thin I could feel her tracing the prominent vein that bulged out on the side. She followed it from the root of my cock and up the rigid, flexing pipe until it ended just below the head. "Evan," She muttered under her breath. "What are we doing?"

That last part seemed to be directed more at herself. "I don't know, Mom. But I can't get off the bus like this." I knew I was overplaying my hand by repeating myself, but it seemed like all she needed was a nudge to help her pick her path.

Mom knew the answer, but had to ask anyway so that she had time to comprehend the severity of what I was implying. "Okay, honey, I get that it's embarrassing for people to see you like this. Are you sure it won't go down on its own?"

"It never does, I always have to...well, you know." Even with my dick marinating in the gooey folds of my Mother's vagina, it felt strange to talk about masturbating.

"A-always?" Mom's voice got stuck halfway in her throat. I was reading excitement in her voice, like she had been issued a challenge, mixed with nerves powered by the acceptance that this was only going to end one way. "Can I, uh, h-help you, Muffin?" I didn't reply, so Mom continued without removing her hand from me. "I've never seen one so...I mean, you're so hard, honey. You poor thing, does it hurt?"

"You're making it feel better, Mom."

She started letting her palm work up and down the head in a small spiral. Between her rubbing the head and stroking my shaft between her plump, honey-covered thighs, I felt like I was already at my limit.

I had never felt such a relentless erection in my entire life. It was unfathomable that this was a reaction to my Mother sitting on my lap, but it was true nonetheless. As much as I felt like I was at the brink of orgasm, a mental block manipulated me from ever reaching that point, urging me to hang on just a bit longer. I knew that if I came, this would all be over. No matter how sick it made me feel, I was too curious about this side of Mom to let things end that quickly.

Mom leaned back so her head was resting on my shoulder, eyes closed but pointed to the ceiling as her hot breath rolled across my neck. "Just remember that I love you, honey. I know this is a very strange thing for a Mother to do, but I...well, I have an idea." She took a look around to see if anyone was watching, but we were as alone as we could be, given the circumstances.

She let her head fall back like she had fallen asleep, resting it on my shoulder so she could whisper right in my ear, "Do you trust me, Muffin?"

"Oh fuck. Yes, Mommy." It was a reflex, one that I couldn't catch, but she punctuated her question with a tight squeeze and my brain spat out the first thing it was thinking.

Mom's hand kept moving, but I felt the stillness in the air as she weighed the implications of my outburst. Reality had come crashing down at the mention of her motherhood, and I feared I had ruined the moment.

Mom tilted her head so her lips brushed against my earlobe, sending an eruption of electricity down my spine. She bore down with her hips and focused her strong, slow rutting on the base of my cock. Mom grabbed my shaft while stroking the underside of the bulging helmet like she was tickling a hair trigger. "Yes, honey. I...I want to hear it. Do you trust Mommy?"

"I do, Mommy. I trust you. W-what are you gonna do?"

Mom planted a tender, loving kiss on my cheek that lingered for a moment. She pulled off as slow as she could, letting me feel her saliva cling to my cheek before going in for another passionate peck. "Mommy needs to put you inside of her, okay?"

My spine was a pine tree whose needles tingled all over my body. Every nerve was on fire and aching for the same affection Mom was showing to my cock, alive with energy and teased to the point of implosion.

"Mom, are you serious? But...but we can't." It came out as an excited whimper, lending no credibility to my resistance.

"I know, I know. It's okay, baby. It'll be okay." Mom nodded with a half-hearted smile, clearly wrestling with some intrusive thoughts of her own as she prepared herself to mount me.

Mom's bare bum rested its full weight on my lap, bulging her fat bottom out at the sides as she sat down on me. The creamy dough overflowed in my lap and formed to me like Play-Doh. I longed to sink my fingers into the pudgy meat, but I was content for now to hold onto the spillage from Mom's pillowy ass.

Mom reached under her dress from behind and grabbed the base of my cock, keeping herself hesitantly raised above me. The warm opening of her sticky honeypot greeted me as she dragged my cock head through her slit, enchanting me like a cobra to a flute, bending to her every whim. I would have easily fit inside without the teasing, but Mom was taking her time. I didn't question it, but if I had, I would realize that she was just as excited as I was, and just as afraid to show it.

We both sharply sucked in air as Mom lowered her hips. The tip of my cock nudged against her entrance, fitting neatly inside the small hole before it was swallowed up. Mom slowly embedded the bulbous head within her buttery hole, clenching just under the crown when she felt the plump egg ease its way into her pussy. Mom worked her hips up and down, focusing on greasing the head before she began her descent. Her vice tightened under the inflated helmet, gingerly squeezing below the ridge. Once she felt her muscles get a grip, she raised herself to drag the tightened ring over the pulsing, purple knob like she was methodically trying to extract the cum out of me.

Mom no longer had to hold me in place now that I was secured in her tight grip, and the only place I was going was "deeper". She braced herself against me, both arms rooted to my thighs for balance as she slowly pushed down my cock. There was no more illusion of a bumpy ride, Mom was guiding herself now and needed no convincing to finish what we started.

Mom was already in a pattern; lowering two inches, then raising up one. Her walls clung to me on the way up, but oozed around me like pudding when she bore down and pushed my cock through her sweltering pussy meat. She was a lioness playing with her food, as we both knew that no effort would be required for me to fit inside of her. Mom was practically oozing syrup over both of us, drowning my balls so that even her impossible grip could not stop me from sinking deeper.

Finally, she allowed her legs to spread open a little and accepted the remaining few inches all at once, swallowing the girthy pipe until my balls rested against her juicy pussy lips. Mom slumped against my chest and drew heavy breaths as her starving tunnel gorged itself on my entire length. She gave a little quiver when I pressed against her cervix, as if she was expecting more but knew she had nowhere left to put it. By some miracle of genetics we were perfectly tuned to each other's size, leaving me to throb against the deep, spongy wall while I felt her lips tickling my tightly pulled balls. I hadn't met many women that could fit me so perfectly, but the more Mom massaged me from balls to tip the more it seemed like she was designed to do so.

All her weight was resting on me, and a serene sense of safety overtook me. I'm usually not fond of small spaces, but with Mom I was fully at peace. I was buried under her, and inside of her, and the all-encompassing exposure to my Mother as a sexual being was pushing every button I didn't know I had. I felt vulnerable to the world; having sex in public will do that to you. But still, something about the familiarity of my Mother being close to me was making it easier. Sure, we had never been this close, but Mom's presence was quelling my anxiety in a way that only a Mother can.

Mom was emitting short, quiet grunts as she bucked her hips. I could feel her cervix tickling the tip of my cock and felt a tinge of pride knowing that I fit inside my Mother so perfectly. I hadn't been managed to bottom out inside any of my previous girlfriends. Not properly, anyway. Mom was different; my Mom was deep. With my length perfectly encased in her velvet walls, I knew we were a match made by fate. Her fleshy tunnel squeezed its walls around me in a tender, swampy hug while her pussy lips tickled my balls.

Mom rocked back and forth with all the subtlety she could muster. There was a really good chance that someone would glance in our general direction and see the unmistakably facial contortion of a woman passionately riding a dick, so Mom kept her eyes closed and tried to keep focused. One slip up and our charade would be revealed with dire consequences.

I wanted Mom to start bouncing as though wildfire fueled her. I wanted the sound of skin slapping against slickened skin to fill the bus as she fucked me to her utmost desire. Beggars can't be choosers, I guess, which is why I was thankful for every pothole that gave Mom an excuse to bounce on me. As soon as the bus hit a bump, Mom's hands pushed down on my thighs and gave herself just enough room to pull a few inches out of her fleshy pocket. Her landing was always accentuated with a guttural groan that I could feel reverberating through her whole body. Anyone looking would think that she had been overserved at the game, but we knew she was fighting back the primal urge to yelp like an animal whenever I pushed though the layers of slippery pussy that surrounded my cock.

In between those bumps, while counting the seconds for another one, Mom patiently ground her hips back and forth in my lap. My hands were rooted to her thighs so tightly that I was sure I would leave a permanent mark, but it would have taken a tsunami to rip them off her. Our bodies fit together like two long lost puzzle pieces, like a cliff face being reunited with a slab of stone that it had given to the ocean many years ago. It felt right being connected to Mom like this, and little by little the societal implication of our misdeed became a trivial background detail.

Mom moved one hand firmly against the seat in front of her to provide something to push back on as she tirelessly rode me. Her head tilted back until it was resting on my shoulder, touching our cheeks together. Her back was pressed against my chest so tight that I could scarcely draw breath. It felt like there was not a single iota of space keeping us apart as our bodies melted into each other. With her face touching mine, Mom lifted her other hand to my face and gingerly rested it on my cheek with her nails raking through my hair. She lovingly caressed my jawbone with her thumb while stroking my temple, letting what little anxiety remained blow away like sand in a storm.

Her motherly touch brought me back to early childhood memories that I hadn't thought of in many years, but with my Mother grinding her body against me it still felt completely natural when accompanied with her gentle, welcoming embrace. I longed desperately to touch her back, but knew it was too risky. Anything could be happening under her dress, but grabbing a handful of boob would be far less sneaky than what we were already doing.

"Is this...okay, honey?" Mom held her cheek against mine as we gyrated. Her voice was fluttering, and so quiet that I would have missed it if her face wasn't so close to me, but it was this proximity that made her comfortable enough to dig a little deeper with her questions. "Does this-um, I mean is this helping you? Do I feel-I guess..."

"What, Mom?" I urged.

Her fiery red cheeks singed mine as she fought for courage. "Does Mommy feel good?"

"Oh my god, yes, Mom. You have no idea, your pussy feels incredible." My words were hot air, barely making a peep as they rushed from my lungs. Between Moms hand stroking my face, her entire body weighing on me, and her sweltering pussy eagerly clinging to my throbbing cock, it felt like my entire essence was reduced to a puddle. "You're so hot, inside, I can't believe how good you feel."

"Really?" Mom wiggled her bum side to side in my lap, brimming with what seemed like pride. "It's just that...your Father and I don't do this much anymore, I haven't taken anyone inside me for a while."

"Really?" Now it was my turn to be skeptical.

"It's been...a long time." It was surreal to hear my Mother admitting things about her marriage while her dripping vagina was hugging me on all sides, but it flicked the same intensely feral switch inside me that started this whole thing.

"Tell me. Please, Mom?" I kissed her shoulder.

She hesitated, as I knew she would, but after wrestling with it for a moment she revealed that it had been over a year since she was with Dad. She had even stopped using toys because it felt like admitting defeat.

"I know it's weird, but so is this." Mom convulsed and peppered my cock with a series of heartfelt squeezes, relishing our collective lack of normalcy. "I didn't know if it felt good in there anymore, I guess. Are you sure Mommy feels good enough for you, Muffin?"

I held a groan in my throat as I clenched, violently fighting the urge to cum. I was unwilling to let this moment escape me just because I popped too soon. Through my gritted teeth I mumbled; "You feel fucking amazing Mom. Your pussy is so fucking tight, I don't know how I ever came out of there."

There was nothing I wanted more than to spend an eternity with Mom's walls caressing me, but my impending orgasm was demanding attention of which I could not deprive it. I had managed to keep it at bay so far, but there had not been a second of relief since Mom started riding me and she showed no signs of stopping.

"What about when I cum?" No, my faculties were not all with me, so I did not speak with tact.

"Just stay hard for Mommy." She urged with an undeniable swoon to her tone, like she was trying to seduce my cock into giving her everything it had. I had never heard her call herself 'Mommy' so many times, even as a kid, so I knew the sheer taboo of our actions was giving her just as sicker, perverse pleasure as it gave me.

Mom wanted me to know, she wanted to remind herself. She wanted us to be aware at every possible second that it was her, my Mother, riding my dick like a woman starved.

I don't know when it happened, but at some point Mom gave up on pretending she was "helping me". She was doing herself a favour as much as she was doing...well, me.

"But...what about when I cum?" I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore how the mere mention made my whole body want to release in a single moment. "I can't...I mean, I shouldn't-."

"Yes, of course you can, sweetheart." Mom cooed, pushing her fingers through my hair and running her fingertips across my scalp. Whether it was experience, or the alerting sensation of my rigid cock flexing desperately against the bottom of her vagina, she knew exactly what I was hinting at. "No mess, okay? You can just put it all inside Mommy."

"R...really?" I whined, taken aback by her insistence. We were already in new territory, but I was now being offered a first that I had desired for ages. "Mom, I've never finished inside someone before. What if you get pregnant?"

"Mmmmm, is Mommy gonna be your first?" Mom ignored the pressing question and sought to tease me. That, or she was getting off on the thought of being the first woman on Earth that her Son would ever fill with cum. She was reveling in the control she had over me, and I happily gave her the reigns. I could hear the way her lips parted in a wicked smile when she said: "Just cum whenever you're ready, okay? Mommy is ready for you."