The Theft of Our Lives -- Kellen

Pleased and unnaturally fascinated by the strength of his youthful orgasm, Emma thoughtfully worked Kellen's gushing geyser, graciously guiding our son through the throes of his orgasm to the other side even through her own remorse at the perverse act.

"Ohh, ohhh, mom," Kellen moaned gratefully.

Caring and considerate as always, his compassionate mother pleasantly caressed his still-pulsing shaft and rolling her palm luxuriously over the seeping cockhead extending the pure pleasure of the unusual experience until the powerful eruption ended.

Secretly marveling at the sheer force of his prodigious load, his proud mother struggled to not smile at his virile capacity. Wide-eyed and impressed, Emma had mostly been with old men -- degenerates Hank required her to service, and she was simply unaccustomed to the copious volume of spunk produced by a healthy young man.

"Uhh, huh, uh," Kellen huffed, depleted, and breathing heavily with small dribbles of gooey semen draining from the mouth of his cock as she slowed her manipulations and eventually let his deflating staff drape against his stomach.

Conscientiously, but in a purely deviant act of supplication to her developing role in his life, Emma tenderly took Kellen's fleshy scrotum into her gentle fingers, giving the sensitive contents a gentle tug massaging the last drops of familial seed from his spent balls.

"Uhhh, mom, oh, incredible," he sighed appreciatively, for the moment not considering the source of his pleasure and lolling on the sofa unable to quit his lust-induced reverie.

"Wow, that was impressive! I mean, that was a gusher, young man," Emma extolled openly, gratified by the pure might of his robust orgasm, finding herself extremely aroused and sexually unrestrained performing the depraved act of giving Kellen a handjob.

Terribly excited by the demented experience, and despite the guilt consuming her conscience, Emma gave into temptation, performing the final act of any good lover, as she clearly was this night. Hovering above Kellen's heaving chest, my corrupted wife extended her tongue to his sweaty skin and audaciously licked a large dollop of his translucent jism into her mouth.

It was a sinful act and wrong in so many ways, but Emma was on fire and dying of curiosity to know how Kellen's virile seed tasted. Just the thought of such a debauched act should have made her ill, but coming this far, she quite simply had to know.

To her satisfaction and motherly bias aside, our vigorous youth's manly ejaculate tasted good -- not salty or bitter like the old men, but with the sweetness of fresh cream. It was still warm to her tongue and thick with its viscosity. Wickedly, Emma dipped for more, determined to clean our drained son of his profane semen as taught to do by Hank.

"Oh, wow! Mom?" Kellen murmured incredulously, opening his eyes, and greeted by a sight inconceivable in even his most crazed masturbation fantasy.

His sweet, ponytailed mother, her big tits bared and hanging loosely pressing her swollen nipples into his stomach, had her face flush against his chest licking up a scoop of his slimy jism, indecently swallowing before retrieving more of his pooled spunk.

As she worked her way down the rippled muscles of his abdomen, Emma's piercing green eyes were aflame and focused on his wondrous countenance, looking away only briefly when tracking down another tongue-full of the incestuous jism and then returning to the shocked eyes of our disbelieving son.

Kellen was beside himself at his respectable mother's disgraceful yet tremendously erotic actions, never imagining it was possible for her to perform such a degrading act. It was as if she was a different woman -- a wanton vixen straight out of an internet porn story.

This was the most unbelievable night of Kellen's young life, with no idea what possessed his unfathomable mother and not knowing how to react, so simply letting her proceed down his recumbent body until reaching his softening cock.

Emma withdrew, pausing momentarily admiring Kellen's flaccid tool with a hint of motherly affection for the superlative manhood, and unsure whether to do to what with any other man was now second-nature. Deeply torn, her pretty face disclosed her anguish but also a resolve overcoming her uncertainty and her course was set, knowing that not doing what came next only postponed the inevitable.

"I suppose this needs cleaning too," she effused with a practiced smile and a palpitating heartbeat, cringing with real trepidation at the latest line she was to cross in this deviant, disreputable game.

Capturing our slack-jawed son's semi-hard cock between her lush lips, Emma deftly consumed the softening tool just long enough to suck clean the last of his cum from it slickened surface. Her solemn green eyes fixed on Kellen's, completing an act of pure degeneracy no mother should perform on her own son.

Kellen lay speechless, unable to even breath watching his deflating shaft disappear into the velvety warmth of her wet mouth, only to reappear a moment later neat and shiny with the glean of her residual saliva. By doing so, Emma completed the first step of luring our son into the gutter with the rest of our family in order to keep us together.

Grief-stricken and demoralized, my dutiful wife lapped her tongue one last time collecting the sticky juice running down her fingers in a deliberate, tortured display of deviance and subservience. After a moment's pause, recuperating while mentally blocking the awful reality of what she'd just done at Hank's behest, Emma rose and buttoned up her blouse.

"I told you mom would take care of it. Now, I think it's time to get to bed," she advised in her best motherly voice, hoping to hide how terribly disturbed she truly was by the entire sordid episode.

Emma didn't remark one way or another about the handjob she'd given, or that she'd just licked his gooey jism off his body, or that she'd taken his soft cock into her mouth cleaning the last vestiges of his orgasm. Sorrowfully, she'd gone further than initially expected for the evening, but that couldn't be helped now.

Besides, she knew it was just a matter of time before she was doing that and much worse with our perplexed son.

Going to bed just before midnight with tears in her eyes, potent familial cum in her stomach, and the distinctive taste of Kellen's youthful cream in her mouth, Emma sadly realized she desperately needed to masturbate, relieving the awful nagging horniness haunting her from the perverse sex act with our son.

Emotionally and morally devastated by the night's inglorious events, she dearly hoped she could live with herself in the morning, while wondering just what response to anticipate from Kellen in the light of day.

*****************

It was Sunday morning when Emma woke at around 8:00, brushing her teeth and running a comb through her hair before throwing on a brief summer robe over her naked body. Sheer and barely covering her bounteous ass, it was really something best left to the bedroom, but she was a little hungover and at that moment didn't really care.

Anyway, she had a mission to complete -- a demented mission to be sure, but necessary to keep our family in one piece.

Downstairs, Kerri was already up and in the kitchen with a pot of coffee brewing.

"Good morning, mom," our remarkably cheerful young lady greeted her mother. "Wow, you could look better. What'd you do last night?"

"Oh, nothing really. Kellen and I just stayed up and listened to music. I guess I just had too much wine," Emma answered dismissively, unwilling to tell the whole sordid truth, even to our recently-corrupted daughter.

"Well, it was Saturday night. That's what Sunday mornings are for, right?" our pretentious daughter spoke as if she knew about hangovers from deep experience, when in fact she didn't.

"Yeah, right," Emma replied without much thought about the joke while adding sugar to her coffee.

Kerri's ability to rebound was impressive -- resilient, bubbly, and full of energy.

"Umm, speaking of Kellen, he's probably going to be up soon, are you sure you want to be caught walking around in that robe?" she asked with feminine concern. "It doesn't leave much to the imagination, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I know. I'll change once you're gone," her mother agreed insincerely, with no intention of changing out of the robe, figuring the revealing garment set the tone for the next step in teasing our 18-year-old son.

Of course, Kerri was right about the sparse covering, but Emma knew she was out the door soon to her friend's house for the day, so didn't hesitate to agree just to quell the concern.

"Alright, I'm outta here," Kerri abruptly announced, dumping the last of her coffee and admonishing her scantily clad mother one last time heading out the door. "Seriously mom, you really need to change or Kellen's gonna get a quick female anatomy lesson."

"I will, I will," Emma repeated for Kerri's benefit alone, knowing an education for our growing son was exactly what she intended, regardless of her compunction or regret.

A half-hour passed as Emma sat in the breakfast room nursing her coffee and thinking about last night. She didn't know what to expect from Kellen but decided to stay in the robe as planned, sending the message last night's unprecedented events were not a dream.

At around 9:00 a.m., our sleepy student-athlete stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, a bit timid upon seeing his mother sitting in the breakfast nook but not noticing what she was wearing, at least at first.

"Oh, hi mom," he called through droopy eyelids.

"Hi Kellen, how are you feeling?" Emma started modestly.

"I'm alright. I slept like a rock," Kellen answered after a pause as if nothing unusual happened last night, relieving her that he wasn't upset.

"Well, you should have been relaxed. Wine can do that to you," his mother gibed, hinting at the groundbreaking activities between mother and son, then disingenuously diverting to an alternative explanation.

"Do you want some coffee? Or breakfast?" she asked, changing the subject to a more mundane topic.

"Yes, please, pancakes would be good," Kellen replied absent-mindedly, not considering the work involved as so common to young men.

Emma didn't really want to cook but figured this was a chance to display her ripe body in the barely-there cream-toned robe, assuming Kerri's absence allowed for the whole day with him and not wanting the opportunity to be wasted.

"What are you up to today, Kel?" his sneaky mother asked, lifting herself from the nook and walking to the pantry.

For the first time, Kellen noticed the robe, his eyes darting sharply to her half-nude form. The fabric was opaque enough you couldn't see through it -- gossamer silk diaphanously hugging her abundant curves. It was also quite short, stopping high on her upper thighs granting our attentive son a healthy dose of his tall mother's long, shapely legs.

"Not much. I thought maybe Tim might come over," he answered with a knowing taunt, playfully retaliating for her tease the previous night suggesting she might get his best friend's opinion about her 'great rack.'

Wise in his own ways, Kellen wanted to see what kind of response his proposal incited from his provocative mother.

Emma paused in her tracks for a moment and pondered the prospect of Tim visiting, recalling her wine-fueled and lust-induced comment about the young man. Briefly, she thought it might be wicked fun teasing a pair of horny 18-year-old guys in her bikini, especially one she knew thought highly of her as a MILF.

A visit from Tim was problematic, however, interfering with her intentions for the day with Kellen. Hank's instructions were clear and directed to the seduction of our son, meaning her plans didn't include guests. She couldn't afford any of Kellen's friends intruding on her goal regardless of how amusing it might be.

'Tim can come later,' Emma thought instinctively, not considering her choice of words and their insinuation.

Still, her inadvertent double entendre was clear, and she reprehensively recognized how depraved she'd become under Hank's tutelage, with instant recriminations at the deviant prospect of teasing her son's buddy in an act she'd never even considered before last night.

"Really?" his mom bemoaned instead, purposefully employing a disappointed tone.

"I was hoping we might spend the day together. You know, maybe sit by the pool, just the two of us like last night," she suggested with a clear reference to the previous night's activities as a veiled offer.

Emma's anxious voice implied the tantalizing prospect of more of what Kellen experienced on the most unusual Saturday night of his young life. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the opportunity for alone time with his mother, especially if she wore the bikini she wore yesterday, was too much to risk losing by inviting his friend.

"Okay, so Kerri's gone all day?" he conceded with feigned nonchalance, asking about his sister's whereabouts confirming his hopeful expectations.

"That's what she said, until later tonight," Emma replied with equal casualness, engaging in the cat and mouse interplay.

"Alright then, I'll keep you company," Kellen graciously accepted his barely dressed mother's enticing invitation.

As Emma reached to the upper shelf of the pantry for the pancake mix, a cool draft of air touched her skin leaving her fairly certain the brief robe lifted high enough to reveal at least the bottom half of her round butt cheeks, giving our watchful son a good hint of her ample, wonderfully shaped ass.

"That doesn't mean you can skip mowing the lawn while I'm doing the laundry, mister," Emma added with a stern tone of parental authority.

"Yes, ma'am," Kellen agreed, eyeing her fleshy half-moons appreciatively and unwilling to say 'no' to anything, more than happy to do his lawn chores if the reward was as he hoped.

During breakfast, Emma made sure to 'accidentally' flash a few well-timed views of her deep cleavage -- nothing obvious and no nipple, just the occasional peek down the front of the loosely tied robe in an exhibition much like the other day.

Afterward, she cleaned the dishes, displaying plenty of leg on her 5'10" tall frame before returning upstairs and changing into her Sunday chore clothes. The one variation in today's outfit was the loose tank top with low-scooping arm holes above short shorts, instead of her usual t-shirt and of course, no bra.

Kellen finished the yard work by around 1:00 p.m. as Emma put the last load of towels in the dryer, leaving them ready for a break and something cool to drink.

Circumspect and always thinking ahead, she mentally prepared for the next round of her insidious seduction -- one she wasn't sure she had the courage to undertake. Indeed, the task was disturbing enough to necessitate numbing herself to get through it, knowing deep down inside how emotionally ill it made her feel even contemplating.

Nonetheless, Emma knew Hank would be unhappy with anything less, with his disappointment invariably resulting in the destruction of our family, and that thought made her acutely nauseous.

Bearing that undesirable outcome in mind, my scheming wife moved forward with her stealthy plan, mixing a pitcher of Planter's Punch to drink by the pool. Our unsophisticated son wouldn't know it was alcoholic since the rum was difficult to taste through the fruitiness of the cocktail, while also lubricating them both for the impure events to come.

"Kel, I'm gonna change into my bathing suit. You look hot, do you want to join me for a cold drink?" Emma playfully teased our perspiring son, extending an offer she knew he'd gladly accept. "I put a pitcher out on the patio. Feel free to start without me."

The possibility of seeing his mother in her bathing suit, hopefully her bikini, was enough to convince our overheated lad to accept, especially since he was tired from doing his chores.

"Okay, my suit's down here. I'll be outside," Kellen called in return.

Changed and starting on a drink when his mother made her appearance out the back door, our expectant son's initial hopes for his mom in her bikini were dashed, at least so it appeared as he gulped down the rum concoction. True, she wore the green bikini bottoms from last week, but she also wore the loosely fitting tank top.

'Probably didn't want to get too much sun,' he reasoned, internally disappointed.

"Pour one for me," Emma asked girlishly.

Kellen studied closely his mother's every graceful move as she approached, her hips swaying seductively in the French cut bikini panties with the height of the fabric on the hips emphasizing her wiry, toned legs.

More noticeably, Emma's large unrestrained and delightfully buoyant breasts swung alluringly side-to-side with her exaggerated gait, sending her flat nipples tracing a lateral line embossing her blue shirt, confirming his suspicion she wasn't wearing a bikini top.

The pair sat relaxing, finishing the first round of drinks with Kellen rarely taking his eyes off his mother's chest, and furtively glancing occasionally at her attractive legs stretched on the lounge chair.

Emma knew he was looking and did nothing to conceal herself, understanding the stirring affect her curvaceous body had on men, especially with the addition of alcohol. Chastising herself for her lack of moral strength in her self-imposed purgatory, she realized she needed to take the next step, but wasn't quite ready.

"Can you pour me another drink, sweetie?" she instead asked for another drink, cheerily hiding her misgivings before taking a big swallow summoning her courage.

"I'm ready for a swim. You gonna join your deal old mom?" my apprehensive wife announced with a seductive lilt, abruptly rising to her feet.

Ensuring a positive response, Emma added a sweetener to the offer, but needed to act quickly before she thought about it too long and her sensibility overcame her need to fulfill Hank's wishes. Purposefully, she dropped her hands to the tank top's hem, peeling it smoothly up her body and over her head, casually tossing it on the lounge chair.

Now, boldly topless before our gawking son, she wore only the green bikini bottoms, looking sexy as hell with her cute ponytail flipping behind her head and her fashionably dark designer sunglasses obscuring her nervous eyes as she kicked off her sandals.

Kellen's eyes bulged out of his head, uncomprehending why his mother was acting this way, but now clear last night wasn't a dream, not that he had any doubts. Greedily, he appraised her delightful body in the broad daylight, accepting she was every bit as hot -- hotter even, than the MILFs he saw on the porn sites.

Emma's legs were sturdy but tapered, rising invitingly to her broad hips, with the pleasantly meaty flanks of her ass fitting snuggly in her bikini panties. Rounded but appealing, her tummy featured the slightest roll of padding as the natural result of age and childbirth, with flawlessly smooth, pale skin.

She was undeniably a mature, full-bodied beauty with curves in all the right places, but it was her enormous chest that really caused a stir in his pants. Kellen hadn't seen his mother's glorious breasts from this angle last night, upright and on full display in the light of day, and she knew from experience they were quite a sight for any horny guy.

At 39-years-old, Emma's breasts are spectacularly large and truly impressive, holding their shape nicely for her age and sloping a touch, but not saggy. The attractive pair are topped by rose-tinted silver dollar-sized areolae, with her wide nipples currently saucer-like and at ease.

Cunningly, she deliberately pushed her chest outward, forcing her tremendous melons to the center of his undivided attention in an effective but unnecessary effort, as craning his eyes upward in the bright light of the afternoon there was no way for our eagle-eye son not to be captivated.