The Husband's Night Out

This story contains incest, interracial sex, and references to bisexuality. If any of these trip your trigger, move on!

Chapter 01

Ann "Queenie" Caples was an emotional wreck. Her marriage of thirty years was on the rocks, and she was desperate to save it. She and her husband Cass hadn't had sex in weeks. They were more intimate friends than sexual partners.

Her husband was gone again for a weekend bowling tournament. Lately, It seemed they spent more time apart than together. The spark had gone out of her marriage, and her best efforts seemed unable to rekindle the fire. She tried everything she could think of to get her husband Cass interested in her again, to no avail.

Queenie decided to try a sexier image. She would present a sexier her to her mate when he returned. She spent the day shopping for sexy lingerie, hoping to rekindle the spark in their sex life by being more alluring.

Queenie tossed the shopping bag on her bed. She took a sip of wine from her second glass of the afternoon, stripped off her ratty housecoat, and pulled a sheer nightgown from the bag of lingerie.

Queenie stood in front of her full-length mirror, holding the diaphanous nightwear in front of her naked body, critically eyeing the effect. She took a deep breath, pulling her mommy pooch in while shaking her head doubtfully. Thirty years of marriage, an aversion to exercise, a love of decadent desserts, and one son left her looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

She bent at the waist, her bubble butt pointing toward her bedroom door, preparing to don the matching French cut panty when her son Kevin gave her a wolf whistle

"What the...," she exclaimed, bolting upright, trying to hide her nudity with the sheer robe.

Unbeknownst to her, as she tried on and tossed aside various lingerie outfits, her son, rolling on molly, stood just outside her bedroom door watching the show. The lingerie ranged from the merely sex, like the sheer peignoir set, to the outrageous, like the set with the bra with cutouts and crotchless panties.

"Yowsa! Way to go, Mom!".

Kevin clapped his hands while whistling and unabashedly ogling his 47-year-old mother.

Ecstacy fueled Kevin's courage; else, he would never have been so forward. He was euphoric, and every sense seemed more acute. His mother appeared more like a Rubens model than an overweight middle-aged housewife.

At 23 years old, he was over his teenage crush on their mother. Back then, Kevin followed her around the house lust-struck, hoping to catch glimpses of her lush body. He shot quarts of cum into her panties he stole from the hamper.

Four years of college and losing his virginity as a freshman cooled his ardor for his mother. Now he had his tiny apartment in San Francisco, worked for an internet portal, and indulged in the casual sexual mores of The City. He had numerous male and female relationships and considered himself a good lover. He was even in throuple with a bisexual married couple.

While passing her bedroom door, he saw her trying on and modeling lingerie. The one she wore now would do justice to a Victoria's Secret model. It was sheer, revealing her 36G breasts, prominent nipples, and greying blond bush. Her body was Rubenesque, and her stature was Amazonian at 5' 10

Queenie blushed, feeling warm, having completely forgotten her son was home. Kevin was home working remotely after his IT firm closed because of COVID-19. Like others in his field, he resisted the firm's request to return to full-time office work.

"OH! You startled me," she said.

Queenie's hand pressed against her substantial bosom. For the moment, she forgot she was virtually naked in the diaphanous sleepwear; instead, she was eying her handsome, fit son. He reminded her of her husband in his younger years, exuding health, vitality, and sexuality when they married.

"Sorry," he said in a sing-songy voice. Jesus, he thought, mom has put on a few pounds, but she is still hot. "But I didn't expect to see a sexy senior modeling lingerie!"

"Senior? I'm not that damn old! Now get out of here so I can get dressed." Is that a bulge in his gym shorts?"

"Okay," he laughed, "I guess the striptease is over."

Neither of them expected what happened next. Later they ascribed their behavior to their altered mental states brought on by Queenie drinking wine and Kevin dropping molly.

Queenie walked toward her son, intending to playfully push him in the chest and out of her bedroom. She tripped over the throw rug on the floor next to her bed and extended her arms, intending to break her fall. Kevin, aiming to break her fall, spread his arms to catch her.

Queenie fell into her son's arms, her momentum carrying them both to the floor. Kevin's hands clutched at the insubstantial material of her sleepwear, ripping it off as they tumbled to the floor with Queenie on top.

Mother and son lay on the floor; the wind knocked out of them. Queenie tried to stand, disoriented from the fall and feeling the effects of the wine she drank. She placed her hands on her son's chest and levered herself up.

Queenie's eyes widened, and she gasped when the bulge in her son's shorts pressed against her bare pussy. She scrambled, trying to get up and off him, pushing on his chest with her hands while trying to rise to her knees. She succeeded in straddling him with his cockhead pressing against her pussy.

The next several moments were a blur. Queenie's knees slipped on the highly polished hardwood floor, causing her to drop down and impale herself on her son's cock. Her hips jerked involuntarily, sliding back and forth as an unexpected thrill ran through her body.

"Oh my God, no!" Queenie gasped as her son's cock impaled her.

Her struggles to stand served only to cause his tool to piston in her hole.

Kevin looked up at the best set of tits he had ever seen. It helped that he spent most of his adult life fantasizing about seeing them. He grasped and squeezed them.

"Kevin! Stop! You shouldn't be...!" OH!" Queenie exclaimed when he took her nipple in his mouth and hungrily suckled while nipping lightly.

For a moment, she recalled the halcyon times when she breastfed him. She loved breastfeeding! It made her feel closer to her son. She believed that she filled him with love while filling his tummy with her breast milk. She clasped his head to her bosom, re-experiencing that feeling of wellbeing and love.

Kevin misinterpreted her action as acquiescence. He thrust several times, refueling his mother's neglected sexuality.

"Oh God, no! We mustn't!"

Even as she spoke, Queenie's hips repeatedly pumped, burying Kevin's substantial length and girth deep in her. His cockhead bruised her cervix while his shaft rubbed her sensitive clit.

She and her husband Cass hadn't fucked in weeks. She was, as a starving woman, suddenly presented with a feast. Her son's cock may be forbidden, but sliding in her gash felt good.

"I love you, Mom," Kevin said, gripping his mother's hips and thrusting into her.

"Sweet Jesus, no!"

Queenie's body betrayed her. She rocked back, grasping her breasts as the sensation of her son's cock filling her suspended reasoning. Kevin was balls deep in her hole, filling her completely.

"I never thought fucking you would feel like this," Kevin groaned, thrusting up.

On automatic pilot, his inhibitions lowered by the molly; he repeatedly thrust into his mother while fondling her big jugs.

"We must stop, baby! Fucking you is so wrong!"

Even as she spoke, her hands rested on her son's chest, her ample hips rhythmically pistoning, matching her son's pumping. She hated herself for being so weak and unable to stop fucking Kevin. At the same time, Kevin's cock filled every inch of her, sending her to unimagined heights of arousal.

"Get up, Mom! If you don't want this, all you have to do is stand up! I won't stop you!"

Kevin lay back with his hands by his side, looking up into his mother's lustful, sweating face.

"I will! I'll get up now!"

Queenie sat up, her arms extended to either side, but her hips were rotating on her son's dick. She was lost, and she knew it. She dropped forward, her hands on his chest, her hips pistoning.

"Fuck, mommy, baby! I may burn in hell, but I can't stop now."

"Mom, I've always wanted to fuck you but never thought it would happen. Whatever happens, I intend for us to enjoy this moment."

"You talk too much," Queenie said through clenched teeth, squatting on her son's cock, her big jugs flopping.

"You fuck like a porn star, Momma!"

Queenie's eyes widened in surprise at the explicit language her son used. It was a first for her. His father usually just grunted until he came. She wasn't sure if she liked the dirty talk.

"I'm your mother! You shouldn't say things like that to me."

"I shouldn't say you're the best piece of ass I ever had?"

"I'm so confused! I love the things you're saying. But what we're doing is wrong!"

Kevin's hands dropped to his side, giving him leverage to thrust harder and deeper into the best pussy he ever had or ever would have.

"FUCK!" Queenie gasped," you're so fucking deep!"

"You like me deep in you, mom? You like feeling your son's cock deep in your pussy?"

"Yes! God damn it! Yes!"

Queenie's mouth was open, drool running from the corners. Her big tits flopped in tune with her bouncing on Kevin's tool. Her pussy foamed on his cock, covering her bush and his cock.

"Let's try another position."

"What? Do what?"

Queenie had difficulty thinking; her world had shrunk to her son's cock in her pussy. What did he want to do?

She gasped when he lifted her off him, her pussy pulsing as he withdrew. She was like a ragdoll, allowing Kevin to turn her on her belly and pull her to her knees. She had a surreal moment when she saw her torn lingerie lying on her bedroom floor.

"I can't return it," she thought.

"OH MY LORD," Kevin groaned as he slammed home, burying his massive tool to his balls in his mother's honey hole.

"Motherfucker," Queenie screamed, initially shrinking away from her son's donkey dick invasion. Then thrusting back.

I'm dying! I can feel the life leaving me. I'm going to die with my son's cock in my pussy!

She didn't die. The alcohol lowered her inhibitions enough that she decided to enjoy fucking her son, no matter how wrong it was!

She and Cass sometimes watched porn movies, trying to rekindle their sex life. She recalled the filthy things the women said.

"Don't stop now, motherfucker! Knock the bottom out of my pussy!"

"Motherfucker? I guess I am," Kevin laughed. "But Momma, the things you say! Tell me it's my pussy!"

The extent of Queenie's sexual experience before meeting her husband was some blowjobs and several intense mutual masturbation sessions with her college roommate. Kevin was asking for submission, for her to accept his dominance.

"I'm your whore, and it's your pussy! Fuck your whore!"

She would have giggled; it sounded so ridiculous. However, the words fit her mood. She wanted to be used. If she was going to burn in hell for fucking her son, she wanted to enjoy the sin.

Kein raised his hand and brought it down hard on Queenie's ass. The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded through the bedroom.

"Move this big ass! Fuck my dick," Kevin said as he stopped thrusting, waiting for his mother to fuck him.

"OUCH! Goddammit! Doing it again! Harder!!"

Queenie and Cass fucked doggie a lot. It was her favorite position getting the maximum penetration and repeatedly hitting her G spot. However, Cass never stopped and let her control the pace and depth.

His mother's ass rolling like waves on a pink ocean entranced Kevin. He smacked it repeatedly, eliciting squeals from his mother and encouraging her to keep fucking her son's cock.

"Cum for me, Momma! I want to feel your pussy spasm around my cock. You gonna cum for your son?"

He slapped her ass first with one hand, then the other.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Yes! Yes! Cum with me! Fill your mother's cunt with your seed!"

Queenie came explosively, her cunt clamping down like a vise on Kevin's cock. Her pussy spasmed as she came, simultaneously trying to push his cock out and squirting for the first time in her 47 years.

"Yes, Mom, Yes!"

Kevin pumped hard, arching his back to keep his cock in his mother's convulsing pussy as they came together.

"Fill, mommy up, baby! Fill her cunt with your seed!"

Queenie dropped to her belly with her son followed her, both of them still cumming. They lay there, drenched in sweat, slowly realizing what they had done. Kevin, still hard, began pumping slowly, relishing the sloppiness of his mother's cum filled cunt.

"Get up, Kevin!"

Guilt replaced lust in Queenie. She was not only cheating on her husband, the first and only man she ever had sex with, she was doing it with their twenty-one-year-old son.

"Mom, I..."

Kevin was still hard, his lust driven by realizing his fantasy of fucking his mother. There were other positions he wanted to try. Like a child seeking his mother's approval, he wanted to show her he knew how to satisfy a woman.

"God damn it, Kevin, get up!"

Queenie thrust her butt up, pushing her son off her. He rolled to his back next to her, his cock gleaming and bobbing, pointing at the ceiling.

Queenie sat up, clutching her knees to her bosom with her arms around her knees.

Jesus H Fucking Christ! What have I done?

"I'm not sure what happened, why we ended up doing what we did. But we can NEVER do it again and NEVER tell anyone! Do you understand me?"

Kevin was experiencing the dreamlike moment of having fucked his mother. He lay next to her, watching his sperm running from her pussy and through her ass cheeks.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am, I hear you. But..."

"No fucking buts! Now get out of here!"

Kevin scurried to his feet, grabbed his shorts, and hurried from his parents' bedroom. He flinched when Queenie slammed her bedroom door behind him.

Queenie fell across her bed, crying, constantly repeating, what have I done?

Chapter 02

They avoided each other for two days until Kevin left for San Francisco. The new pandemic schedule called for him to work remotely for four days and in the office for one day.

Queenie spent the week after Kevin left for his job alternating between guilt paroxysms and overwhelming lust outbursts.

Her guilt was intense enough that she considered confessing her transgression to her husband, Cass. Concern for her family life and the relationship between Kevin and his father stopped her. She rationalized that it was best to keep the secret.

Her new lingerie had the desired effect on her husband. They fucked almost nightly until Cass called a halt, pleading exhaustion.

"I'm not sure if I like your language lately when we have sex."

"Language," Queenie asked, feigning innocence?

Most nights, while having sex with Cass, she thought of Kevin.

It wasn't that Kevin's cock was larger than his father's; they were close to the same size. The emotional intensity of fucking her son compared to her husband drove her. Maternal love augmented by sexual love created scary emotions for Queenie.

"Yeah! You sound like the women in those porn movies. I mean, 'fuck your whore', 'spank my ass,' and the other things you say lately come out of those movies."

"I'll stop since you don't like it!"

And she did! Their sex life returned to the same dull sessions it was before that fateful weekend. It was satisfying but not exciting. She missed her son and his dick but was happy he wasn't around. She wasn't sure if she could contain herself

However, Fate and the COVID 19 virus intervened. The pandemic variant exploded across the country. Kevin's employer decided to go back to 100% remote work. It didn't matter where Kevin worked as long as he had a high-speed internet connection.

Rather than work from his tiny apartment, he decided to drive home and work from there. Privately he hoped for a repeat with Queenie.

Chapter 03

"Nina, this is Queenie. What're you up to?"

It was a week since Queenie fucked her son on her bedroom floor. After a brief explosion, Her sex life with her husband was back to where it was before, down the tubes. Her vibrator helped take the edge off but didn't give her the intense orgasm she experienced with Kevin. She needed to unload and share her guilt with someone, or she would explode.

Nina was a 30-year friend and confidant. They met in high school and did everything teenage girls did, despite Nina being a Black Creole and Queenie a White Midwesterner. They were each other's coaches during their pregnancies.

'Hey, girl! I'm just getting out of the shower and getting ready for bed. What's up?"

"I thought since this is our husbands' bowling night, we could have a glass of wine and catch up.

"I don't know, Queenie! Maybe another night. I was going to put my jammies on and watch TV in bed."

"Come on, girlfriend! I'm bored, and we haven't had a chance to catch up since your kids returned to college. I could use the company."

Nina was naked, standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, smoking a joint and inspecting her freshly shaved pussy. She ran her hand over her smooth Mons, hissing when her index finger slipped into her sex.

She told Queenie a white lie. She planned on watching some porn and getting herself off masturbating. She and her husband Henri were going through one of their dry spells and hadn't fucked in weeks. However, Queenie was a friend, and she wouldn't mind a glass of wine and some girl talk.

"Okay, Queenie! But just one glass of wine; you know how silly I get when I drink too much. Oh! And I'm not going to dress. I'll throw on a robe."

"Great," Queenie said enthusiastically. "Come to the back so you won't scandalize the neighbors."

"Girl, ain't nothing about this old body that would scandalize anybody. Open the back door!"

Queenie hurriedly opened a bottle of wine, grabbed two glasses, and set them on the cocktail table. She was happy that Nina agreed to come by. She had to tell somebody and Nina was the one.

The chiming of the doorbell announced Nina's arrival. Queenie strode to the patio door, her stomach in knots. She was having second thoughts about sharing her experience with Kevin. Nina might judge and berate her for fucking her son.

"Sup, girlfriend," Nina said, embracing her friend.

"I'm so happy you came!" Queenie held her friend a beat longer than usual, sniffling as she did.

"Are you crying?" Nina pushed Queenie to arm's length, "You ARE crying! What did your bastard husband do to you?"

"It's not him, it's me, and I have really fucked up." Her tears flowed freely as she again hugged Nina.

"There, there! Whatever it is, we'll work it out."

Nina was aware of Queenie's breasts pressed into hers. They were about the same height and weight at about 200+ pounds. Nina was the stereotypical Black woman with a bubble butt and humongous 40DD breasts. She and Queenie often had girl talk about the difficulty of finding a good-fitting bra.

"The wine is in the Living Room. Let's have a glass before we talk."

"Like I said on the phone, one glass! I spoked a joint, and the combination of alcohol and reefer is deadly for me."

"Deadly?"

Queenie took her friend's hand and led her to the Living Room.

"Not deadly as in killing me. But deadly as in turning me into a horny slut. Henri used to love getting me high and having me behave like a slut! Back in the day, he got me high, and I sucked off him and his brother!"

"You didn't," Queenie exclaimed! We'll have no slutty behavior here. There's no man for you to suck," Queenie chuckled, pouring two glasses of wine.

"Salud!" the women tapped glasses and took healthy sips.