The Birthday Box

I pulled apart her doughy cheeks like freshly baked bread and dug my thumbs against the ring of her pulsating asshole. I gingerly pressed my thumbs around the edge as I spread open the heavy, jiggling globes, imparting just enough pressure to expose the bright rouge interior of her inner walls.

Mom tensed up in a new way, and I could tell she was uncomfortable, but she said nothing. I took that as consent to continue, but with caution. I held her cheeks apart and let a thick glob of saliva fall from my mouth. It landed squarely on the trembling circle and slowly began to trickle between the swell of her cheeks, filling in every little wrinkle that gave a hint to just how tight that little hole was. The syrupy lube left a tiny trail of bubbles as it gradually dribbled over her asshole, and I immediately started to spread the goo around with my thumb.

Once she was used to the sensation, Mom began to relax. I timidly massaged her asshole with small circles, giving no impression that I wanted to go inside. I think my own trepidation helped her calm down, as it only took a few seconds before she resumed her ritualistic moaning. She was even grinding her asshole against my thumb like she was playing chicken with herself, trying to see how much pressure she could apply before my thumb slipped inside.

"If you, um..." Mom paused. "If you keep f-fucking me, honey, you can put your finger in."

It was at that moment that I realized I had completely stopped moving and was hypnotized by Mom's asshole, so enamoured with exploration that I had somehow forgotten that I had my cock lodged firmly inside her pussy. It hit me like a shockwave when Mom gave my cock a reassuring squeeze, encouraging me to start fucking her again.

I had to go slow so I didn't cum right away, but as crazy as it sounds, that somehow made it even more difficult. Mom's insides squished like a soggy sponge as I pulled out, the sound of her swampy cunt overtaking the array of other noises I was so transfixed by. Like mud around a boot that had sunken in too deep, her pussy clung to my cock and gurgled shamelessly as I dragged it out of her.

Even without her squeezing around me, my dick was throbbing with aggression. Each flex brought it up to my stomach, with the head inflated so prominently that it looked nearly purple. From root to tip, it glistened in the candlelight, and if it had been any cooler in the house I would have seen steam rolling off the throbbing pole.

I took a moment to gaze in awe at the imprints I had left from gripping Mom's plump bottom. She was as red as the afternoon sun, bearing the marks of my fingers burrowing into her soft flesh that accented a faint hint of delicate peach fuzz. I swatted one of her pudgy cheeks and watched it dance with delight, but my mother could not be satiated with spankings.

"Honey?" She wiggled her bum back and forth. "Please?"

She didn't need to utter another word. I summoned the last of my strength, knowing that I was too weak to fight off my orgasm for too much longer, and eased my dick through her lips again. The plump curtains enrobed my dick, welcoming their passenger back as it nudged against her opening. I slid the head between her folds before pulling back again, obsessively watching as her tightness spread in impossible ways. Her slippery ring swallowed the helmet with ease, kissing the tip of my cock as her fat, pudgy petals hugged the sides and guided me back down to the bottom.

Mom sighed with relief as I filled her up again, jumping a little bit when I bottomed out and she was reminded of how big I was.

"Jesus Christ, honey." She gasped, and I heard her palm slam against the table as I settled back down into the depths of her warm, welcoming pussy.

Mom continued to groan as she swayed her hips back and forth with my cock buried to the hilt. "I... I haven't felt this..." she said, then pulled off my dick as far as she could without letting me escape. She slammed her cunt back down to the bottom to provide punctuation to the rest: "... in a long, long time."

I was worried Mom would put the clues together and realize that mine wasn't the dick she was familiar with, but it seemed that she had basically forgotten how Dad felt and was too excited to give it a second thought. For the sake of the ruse, I could only grunt in approval.

"Oh god." I felt Mom's fingers tickling the underside of my cock as she began playing with herself, her fingers gliding over her pulsating clit as she gyrated on her son's throbbing cock. She was getting into it, even more than I was. "Come on, honey. Fuck your little whore."

Whoa.

I had never heard Mom talk like that. As far as I knew, neither one of those words had ever left Mom's mouth. Yet there I was, hearing them back to back. I'd never been much into dirty talking, but hearing my own mother literally begging me to fuck her was awakening a whole heap of new desires.

I rooted one hand to her waist and sunk back into her warm, creamy center. My other hand refused to take its thumb away from her asshole, still slick with saliva, and I was eager to explore a new fascination. I dribbled another helping of lube onto her bumpy backdoor and massaged it into every crease, gently nudging against the hole until I felt her muscles unclench. In small circles, I eased the digit against her asshole and pushed just enough to get my fingernail inside. Mom tensed like she was made of stone and sucked in a sharp breath.

To my surprise, she didn't ask me to stop. All of her neurons were probably telling her to quit, but I patiently pushed my thumb until I sunk past the first ring and felt a second, tighter vice push back against me.

"Slow, please," Mom whimpered, kicking her feet so hard her heels tapped against the table. "Be gentle with me, honey."

I held my thumb in place so I didn't lose any ground, but knew she wouldn't last long without something to distract her. With her fingers still ceaselessly dashing around her clit, I didn't have to thrust very fast to get Mom to start moaning like a banshee again.

I maintained a firm, steady rhythm with Mom, but she was doing most of the work by then. She brought her ass down hard, driving my cock through a fleshy jungle of soggy cunt meat, but pulled off of me much, much slower so that we could both feel her vagina caressing me with every fold. Every time her ass flattened against me, I tried to ease my thumb a little further inside her bum.

Our plan was working; with something else to focus on, Mom seemed more adept at - or at least less wary of -- accepting my thumb in her ass. She planted her curvy bottom in my lap again and I found the courage to push just hard enough that the rest of my invading digit popped inside of her asshole. Mom arched her back and groaned like she had been hit in the stomach, but steadied herself with a deep breath. For whatever reason, she was dedicated to making it work.

I wiggled my thumb against the walls of her asshole and marveled at how different it felt from her vagina; they were so much softer, and so unexplored, that it felt like baking my thumb inside a buttery cloud. They were so tender, and impressively slippery considering how tight she was. I could have broken my thumb if I'd jerked it too quickly, as the vice around the base of my digit was so secure that not even a drop of saliva could seep inside. I coiled my thumb back on itself so it dragged against the roof of Mom's asshole, burying into the supple flesh. When I plunged my cock into her pussy again, I dragged the tip of my thumb across that silky ceiling.

Mom was making sounds that could only be described as animalistic, grunting feverishly with my cock's every venture back into the deep confines of her quivering cunt. Juices drenched every inch of my shaft, and thick droplets of syrup tickled my balls as they dribbled down them, then fell to the floor with a 'plop.'

My balls were pulled snug against my body, and I knew I was playing with fire, risking it all with each passing second. The thoughts burst forth in a jumble - panic and rationality joining forces against the primal pursuit of pleasure. Is Mom on the pill? Am I supposed to pull out when I come? If I don't, I could get her pregnant!

... Why is that turning me on even more?

I knew I couldn't get away with asking, as Dad would have already known the answer. I was left with two options: pull out and ensure that I didn't accidentally breed my mother like a town whore, or cum inside of her like every iota of my body was begging me to do.

Well, I never said I was a smart man.

My stomach tightened up as cum boiled inside me, desperate for release and knowing that any second could be the final one. Mom was enthusiastically thumping her ass against my stomach, battering my cock with a slurry of wet, sloppy kisses. That left very little reason for her to focus on anything else, and I was left to realize the gravity of our situation much sooner than her.

With no warning, and no hesitation, I went with my gut feeling. I let my instincts take over, consequences be damned.

I pulled my thumb out of Mom's asshole and grabbed a firm hold of her hips. My fingers disappeared in an ocean of doughy, porcelain skin as they sunk in, leaving long stretch marks that quickly turned bright red from my intense grip. I nearly bit through my tongue trying to stay quiet, hoping that I might savour the moment a little longer.

My dick sunk to the very bottom of Mom's greedy pussy until my balls were mashed against her clit, where I could still feel her fingers flicking back and forth. I don't know what she felt first, but I know she felt it, because her fingers stopped almost immediately. Maybe her fingers felt my balls as they seized up, but I doubt that. Maybe she felt my legs shaking as I fought to stay standing, but I doubt that, too

I kissed the entrance to my Mother's womb and stopped thrusting, but I know she felt me throb. I know she felt that first telltale sign that I had gone too far as the mass of muscle inside her guts started pounding against her walls like a jackhammer. Unfortunately for us both, by the time she could act it was too late to stop.

The first stream of hot, molten butter erupted against her baby room with a violent splash, coating the spongy wall in thick cream like I was painting her pussy. I pushed inside her even harder in time with the second spurt, right as the gooey white rope basted the ceiling of her cunt, dripping back down onto my cock like a warm, sticky blanket. The final shots were too thick to find their own path, and could only mix in with the first two before congealing in a heavy puddle of baby batter right at the entrance of her womb. I continued emptying my balls into my mother, relishing the last few dribbles as I dumped more of the viscous glue into her guts.

Mom's fingers had completely stopped, and the room quieted until I only heard our tattered breathing. Mom shifted in the box as her fingers darted around her vagina, prodding around in a panic as she searched for answers to questions she had yet to ask aloud. Thankfully, she was so tight that not a drop of cum had been able to leak out of her.

With no choice left, Mom asked me with a tremendously heavy heart. "Honey, did... you didn't, right?"

I didn't respond. I couldn't, but she didn't like that. The box lifted about a foot off the table as Mom began to sit up, casually poking around the stretched out lips of her pussy with my cock still throbbing inside it. With more anger peppering her words than fear, she asked again, more pointedly. "Did you really just cum inside me? You didn't, right?"

Silence was no longer going to work for me. While I searched aimlessly for the right words, knowing I would never find them, the decision of how to deal with the situation was made for me.

Mom threw the box off her and sat up in a huff, so overtaken with fury that she could not even look at me. For the first time that night -- the first time since entering her most sacred place -- I gazed upon my mother's face. Her brow was furrowed with rage as she plopped down on her bottom and spread her legs obscenely, making no effort to maintain decency as she furiously pawed at her raw, ravaged hole. There was no illusion of being "sexy" any more as Mom tackled one frightening reality after another, while, paradoxically enough, entertaining the vain hope that she might get the cum out before it could do its unholy work.

I watched with shameless intrigue as Mom hiked her knee up on the table to give herself a better angle. She straightened her other leg as though that would help her reach further inside. Her face was contorted into disgust, something I had never seen upon it, as she rummaged around her drooling cunt. She looked like a wild animal trying to remove a thorn from her paw.

Pure horror was all I could see on her face as she withdrew her sticky fingers and pulled them apart in a "V". Her final hope at salvation was dashed by watching the thick ropes of baby butter stretch between her outstretched fingers, confirming her deepest fear.

Then she used both hands to pull apart either side of her pussy lips, digging them in as deeply as she could into the tender flesh before she pried her cunt open. She grunted as she pushed, trying in vain to rid herself of every last drop. A long stream of thick, white syrup oozed out of her, pooling on the table as she grunted again -- even harder that time -- to push the invasive cum out of her body.

"No, no, no," she muttered. Clearly in a state of rising panic, she turned her attention towards me. "You promised. You promised me, Gerry!" Mom turned her attention away from her cum-drenched pussy and finally looked up at me.

She didn't say anything at first. Her brain was trying to put together too many puzzle pieces that didn't fit. Her emotions rapidly changed from anger, to fear, to curiosity, to surprise, before finally settling into a non-verbal state of shock.

"Wh-wh-wh..." Mom couldn't muster anything beyond that; simply gawking at me as tears began to well in her eyes. "But... but, no. How? What is this?" Mom held out her hand towards me, and my heart sank as a glob of cum dripped off her finger and onto the carpet.

"Is this a joke?" She was desperate for me to say yes -- for me to take her away from this nightmare I had subjected her to -- but I couldn't do it.

"IS THIS A FUCKING JOKE?" Mom's voice bellowed in a way I had never heard before. Her lip quivered helplessly as panic began to overtake her body, but still she searched my face for some answer that would settle her racing heart. She rested a hand over her tummy with and dug her fingers in until they turned white, as though squeezing hard enough would stop cum from slowly seeping into her womb.

I was too preoccupied trying to think of an answer that wouldn't completely destroy the relationship I had with my mother, and she was too distracted by the knowledge that it was her son's potential children that she had just felt splashing against her cervix. With so much weighing down on us, we were both too distracted to hear the sound of the front door opening.

Neither of us had moved an inch in the last several minutes, so when Dad flung the door open in search of whatever had just made his wife scream in a murderous rage, he was greeted with a sight no man ever wishes to see.

The love of his life, with her tangled, sweat-soaked strawberry blonde hair, was sprawled out on the table with three of her fingers deeply buried in her vagina. It was pink, and raw, bearing obvious signs of a thorough fucking that left the tidy tuft of hair above her mostly bald pussy completely matted, with hints of her juices still soaking through the fur. What he could only assume was his son's cum was seeping out of her opened, pulsating hole and making a puddle on the coffee table where he had ate his breakfast that very morning. Sheer terror was plastered across her face, just the way semen was plastered over her hand. A thick helping of the sticky liquid ran down the length of her arm, creating a long trail of white syrup. The room was dead silent, making each dribble of cum sound like a gunshot when it hit the tabletop.

PLOP.

PLOP.

PLOP.

"I didn't know!" I was desperate to break the silence, and that was the most competent thing I could think to say.

"You didn't know?" Cum launched off of her finger as she pointed at me in accusation. "I didn't fucking know, either!"

Dad wasn't stupid. Like Mom, he was hopeful that a logical explanation would put everything to rest, no matter how unlikely it seemed. "What's going on, Kitty?" His voice was meek and hollow, which told me his heart had sunk to pit of his stomach.

"I w-wanted to give you something special for your birthday." Her voice was full of tremors as she explained herself. "I-I heard a car, so I got in the box and waited so I could surprise you. I didn't...I didn't think..."

Mom sniffled and used her clean hand to wipe a tear away before it stained her cheek. "I thought..."

"You thought?" Dad's voice was close to breaking, too.

"I thought he was you. Our son just..." Mom looked at me like I had just burned down a church, giving me one last chance to explain myself, even though she knew that I couldn't do so. When I didn't jump in to correct her, Mom admitted the truth she was hoping to keep from herself. "I think our son just fucked me." She swallowed the dirty word so it barely came out, tackling the horrid revelation in real time as she admitted it to her husband, and to herself.

Forget hearing a pin drop. It was so silent in the room that you could have heard an ant draw breath. We waited, and waited, and waited, and... eventually, Dad spoke. He wasn't angry, and if he was, it wasn't with me. No, I heard a tone from my father that I was entirely unaccustomed to. I expected rage. I expected fists.

"How did it feel?" he asked. Against all odds, the room grew even quieter. When he got no response, he clarified. "Kitty, how did it feel when he fucked you?"

Mom looked like she was going to puke. "Are you...serious, Gerry?" Every ounce of colour had drained from her face and she was as pale as moonlight, gawking like a baby bird.

Dad nodded.

Mom sucked in a stuttering breath before casting her gaze down to the table top. "Don't make me do this, Gerry. Not like this."

"Tell me." He shuffled his feet nervously.

Mom did not look up at either of us as she spoke. With a heavy heart, she admitted through the ever growing tears, "I...I came, okay? I fucking came with him." Finally Mom looked at me, but only for a moment before disgust repelled her gaze once more.

Mom continued to spit venom at my Father. "Are you fucking happy now? Isn't this what you wanted all along?"

Dad's eyes were sunken into his head like a voodoo doll. "I-I don't know. I didn't want it to be Daniel, obviously."

"What are you talking about?" I fought through the tension to ask.

Cue a long pause as my parents played chicken with the truth. My Dad caved first, as Mom could barely bring herself to speak anymore.

"Your Mother and I were going to try some... new things," he said. "Our therapist suggested it." Dad scanned the room like he was struggling to read from an invisible script. "One thing I wanted to try, that your Mother didn't, was cuckolding. She didn't want to sleep with another man, so we weren't going to do it."

"But you wanted her to?" I asked.

Dad nodded. "I guess so, but yeah, not like this."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I felt heat swimming behind my eyes as tears threatened to make an appearance. "I'm sorry I didn't know that-"

"Are you fucking hard?" Mom snapped. The corner of her mouth was turned up as she gestured towards Dad. "Oh my god... it worked?"