mother vs mistress
- 3 years ago
- 31
- 0
Mother Mistress free porn video
It had been almost a year since David had last taken his mother out for lunch. A divorce and work ate up his time.
"Since your father's away, I thought we could have a quiet lunch."
He was waiting for the usual mother-son fights that he remembered having for the last—no, all of his life. Usually it was around the third glass of wine, David smiled, there was time, they were only on their first.
They made small talk, the divorce was over almost five months now, no he wasn't dating, his dad was visiting relative in Maine for a month, and, "I'm just plain bored," his mother said.
"What about all your friends?"
"Bridge, golf, and health. That's it, and there is only so much of that I can take."
"Laura, you look good," he said absent mindedly. He always called his mother by name. The distance felt safe. But she did look good. Unlike many of her friends who dressed casually, she always wore a dress or a tailored pants suite, and she had her hair done every week. She was a little plump, but David had passed her by years ago. Since the divorce, he had lost some wait and was beginning to feel better about himself.
"Thank you. You've lost a little weight, that's nice. But must you call me Laura?"
"It is your name. And, thank you."
They ordered. It started to rain. "Damn," David said, "I was going to do a quick survey for a design job, now, I'll have to reschedule."
"How is the business?"
"Actually, pretty good. When the economy goes down, people remodel or redo their landscaping rather than move or build. This is a commercial job in Bedford."
Just after he poured her her third glass of wine, she got an odd look on her face. "I was cleaning out my closets the other day and I remembered something I've always wanted to ask you. When you were a c***d, did you play with my clothes?"
"Laura?" He hadn't thought about it for years. But he had worn her clothes. He had is first orgasm wearing her panties. Her clothes were his fetish for years, well into high school . . . and on and off for years after, and he still fantasized about her.
"What does a young boy do with his mother's panties?"
Dear god, he thought, let’s not fight about this! "Nothing, honest."
"David, I found . . . stains on my panties and bras, even some nighties . . . stains that a woman does not make."
David blushed. "Laura!" he whispered loudly. "Please."
"It's a simple enough question. You have to remember it went on for years and years. My lingerie would disappear. Sometimes it would reappear, sometimes not. Sometimes it had . . . crusty . . . stains."
"Mother . . ." he leaned close, and his face burned red with embarrassment. "I masturbated in them. Okay. I jerked off and came in them."
"Don't get huffy. I thought it was kind of cute, wearing mommy's naughty lingerie . . . yes, I know those were your favorites, I had to buy extras, did you know? It was kind of--"
"Stop! Dear god, stop. Please. I'm almost forty, and that was a long time ago. Let it go."
"I'm sorry if it embarrasses you. I'll be quiet."
He was grumpy as he drove her home.
* * *
"This rain isn't going to let up and you don't have an appointment, so why don't you come in for a few minutes."
"I can't, I--"
"I what? You're living alone right now. What? You’re going to play golf in this rain?"
They parked in the drive and ran for the the front door. Laura slipped and pulled him down with her. As the rain drenched them, they laughed. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink."
"Nonsense," she said trying to get up but slipping again.
David picked her up. "It's the least I can do."
She put her hands around his neck and buried her head against his neck.
Inside, he set her down on the sofa.
"My hero," she whispered. "Now you have to stay, until we get your clothes dry." Use my bathroom, there's a robe and I'll change too."
He was okay with the robe—her robe—at least, he though, it was not too frilly. When he walked out, her door was still closed. "I'll make us some hot coffee."
When he went into the living room with the coffee, she was as made up and presentable as at lunch.
They chatted for a while, warmed by the coffee.
"I need to tell you something, and I want you to promise you won't get angry like you did at lunch."
"Laura, not that--"
"Please, this is hard for me, too."
"Okay."
"You didn't hear me at lunch, I said I bought extra . . . for you! I was flattered and excited that you would fantasize about me and masturbate. In that sense, I was your first, wasn't I?"
He nodded, yes.
"I wanted to see you. I wanted . . . " tears seemed to fill her eyes. "I couldn't, and it would have been wrong . . . but . . ." She sipped her coffee and wiped her eyes. They sat in silence. The rain had turned more to fog and the house felt cozy and safe. She looked at him. "Darling, I . . . I still want to."
"You're not asking . . . " he couldn't go on. He drank his coffee. "I'll get us another cup."
"Don't tell me that you never fantasized about this moment." She asked as he set the coffee down. "And, this is that moment."
"Laura. . . you're not serious are you? Maybe the wine, the fall--"
"Oh, but I am serious." She smiled. "I want to see you in panties . . . I want to see what you did every night with mommy's lingerie."
"No, I can't," but the blush seemed to give him away. "I'm almost forty . . . I don't--"
"Play with yourself? Of course you do. You probably stroke your cock and squirt at least once a day, or more."
"Mother!"
"Mmm, yes, 'mother,' but I want more." She pushed her hand between her legs, bunching her dress deep between her legs. "Much more!"
Dave looked away, but his robe was tenting out. "You're . . . You're sixty-one! . . . You're . . ." But he wanted to look. He stole a peak. She was watching. Smiling.
"My baby's got a stiffy."
He looked down and saw that his cock was stick up, out of the robe, hard and proud. He pulled his robe over it. "Mom!"
"Better." She pulled her dress out from between her legs and up out of the way, so she could show him her pink panties. "You know you need to look between mommy's legs. At her . . . pussy . . .yes?. All these years, you've wanted to . . . wanted it . . . wanted her."
"This is . . . you're . . ."
"Baby . . . look at mommy."
He turned. She was sitting with her legs apart. He gasped. Dark stockings, pink garter belt and pink panties with a dark wet spot where . . . he almost gasped, she was wet . . . she was holding her dress up for him to look. And he stared. "Oh, my god! . . . Oh my god." His robe fell open, and his stiff, hard cock stuck out for her to see.
She ran her fingers over her mound and over her wet spot. "Yes, baby . . . we couldn't then . . ."
She was smiling, a woman, sexual, beautiful, alluring . . . and . . . "Mommy," he whispered.
She let her dress fall, and unbottoned the top. Never taking her eyes off Dave, she lifted her left breast out of her bra and held it, offering it to her son.
He went to her. He knelt next to her and took her nipple in his mouth. He suckled . . . and her nipple got hard in his mouth and she began to moan and caress his head. "Yes, suck . . . suck on my titty . . ." After a few minutes, she took his head between her fingertips . . . "Now . . . just like when you were young, I bought you panties . . . and more!"
"I . . ."
"But you must ask."
As he knelt with her robe on, her perfume wafting about him, and her breast still in his face, the feel of her nipple still on his lips and tongue . . . he was close to his fantasy, close to what he had wanted since he could remember. . .
. . . But you must ask . . . "Mommy!" He yelled when she suddenly opened the door and found him wearing her naughtiest lingerie. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. He had been about to jerk off, he had put on more this time than ever before, like the bra . . . and he had put it on in her room. He turned away to hide his hardness. She grabbed his shoulders and spun him back around to face her. "What are you doing?" He burned with shame. She looked down at him, Tears filled his eyes. "Mommy, I--"
. . . "Mommy?"
She looked at him, up and down . . . then she smiled. "You have a boner!" He covered himself. "Oh no, that's like a man's cock! Don't hide it. Show Mommy. Show me that you're a man." He lifted his night gown. "Go on. Show me what Mommy does to you." His hands shook, but he pushed his panties down and involuntarily, his hips pushed forward, as if . . .
. . . his swollen and needy cock pressed against her hip
". . . do you want to fuck mommy with it? Fuck her with your cock? . . . but look at you, so pretty in panties . . . and, so darling in a bra . . . Maybe you want to be mommy's little girl, a special little girl? Do you? Ask mommy."[/]
. . . "Mommy?"
"Mmm, yes, what?"
"Mommy?" Davey asked her. They were sitting watching TV. He kept peaking at her. She knew he was more than just curious about sex, women, and especially her. Her panties kept disappearing and reappearing, often with crusty patches of dry cum. It made her smile that he was masturbating, especially that he fantasized about her and played with her panties. As they watched TV, she let her skirt ride up and she parted her legs . . . hoping he would see . . . She tingled thinking about him, dressing him as her special daughter . . . using David/Devin for her pleasure . . . one of her favorite games with Devin was to tease her . . . masturbating, showing her her panties, dressing or undressing . . . Laura's hand slid between her legs. "Devin!" she whispered. Davey sat up and saw her . . . his mother . . . with her hand between her legs, rubbing herself through her panties. "Mommy?" he asked? "What, Devin?"
. . . He remembered!
He was in grade school, and he had asked about names. David meant beloved. "What about your name?" "Laura comes from the laurel bush, and there's a boy's version of Laurel, it's Laurence." "That would be funny if you were named Laurence." They laughed. "Or we could have called you Devin." "Why's that funny?" "Because, silly, it's a girl's name."
. . . He sat up. "Did you call me . . . Devin?"
Laura blushed. "I . . . didn't . . . I . . ." She looked down and saw his massive cock. "Oh, my god, it's . . . it's . . ."
"Mom," he whispered, "tell me . . . tell me."
"I guess . . . yes . . . it was . . . my fantasy."
Surprised by his feeling, he felt crestfallen . . . "You wanted a daughter, not . . ."
* * *
"I've hurt you! Even now . . . " she pushed herself up past him and went to the window. She began to cry. "Maybe you should just leave. I've made a big enough fool of myself. I don't want to destroy what might be left between us.”
"Mom?"
"God dammit, go!"
He watched as her back jerked with each sob. She wilted to the floor.
"Mom?"
"Go," she whispered.
He sat. He watched. He had gone from ecstasy to tragedy. But it was close . . . for both of them. He wanted what she had offered.
"Mom," he knelt next to her on the floor, "See . . . it's my dream too."
"You're just saying--"
"No! I . . . I want to dress for you and be dressed by you. I want . . ."
"What?" She looked at him, and wiped her tears away. "What do you want?"
"To . . ." he looked away, "to . . ."
"To humor me?"
"Humor you?" He turned to her. "Tell me what you want? To dress me as . . . as Devin . . . to suckle . . . to be your . . . daughter . . . your . . . lover . . . tell me."
"Lover?" she whispered so softly he wasn't sure he had heard her.
"I . . . mommy, I'm asking . . . I want to wear panties . . . I want to dress like you."
"And . . ." she knew she had to say it, to dare, to find out, now, let the hurt come now . . . "and lover?"
There were no words . . . not that she could believe . . . no words. He leaned down and put his head in her lap. He kissed her through the folds of her dress. He waited for her to push him away, to say he had gone too far. But she sighed. "Oh, god, yes . . . kiss mommy."
His heart raced. He kissed her thigh, the bare flesh just above the top of her stocking. She caressed his head.
Yes, they were close. Each had dreamt of this moment. Each wanted . . .
"Don't stop," she said.
He lifted her dress and kissed her mound. "Yes," she breathed, "yes."
He licked and kissed her mound. Her scent was strong, fertile, rich. He could feel her curly hair beneath the pink lace and satin . . . he wanted to satisfy her, to be one with her orgasm . . . he pushed his head deeper. He felt the lips of her sex, swollen, waiting to be filled . . . her hips pushed up against his mouth as he kissed harder. He was intoxicated by her scent and taste . . . a woman's arousal . . . mommy's arousal.
He pulled her panties aside and kiss her flesh . . . her sex . . . her pussy.
"Eat me! Eat mommy's cunt." His fingers slid under her ass, he squeezed and pulled into her more. He sucked the moistness into his hungry mouth, is tongue explored every fold of flesh, he found her clitoris and sucked on it. She bucked and squirmed, moaned and sighed. Then he felt her back stiffen and arch. She clamped his head between her thighs as he pushed his tongue deep inside her.
"Fuck me with your tongue!" Thrashing and screaming, she came against his mouth. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
His face was wet and sticky, rubbed red from her scratchy pussy hair as she humped his face. He was clamped between her legs. Dark, moist, warm . . . She relaxed her legs and pushed her dress down over him. . . . he moved his head so that he could rest it on her thigh, but his face was pressed against her mound . . . he felt . . . safe.
After a while, she moved. "Baby, you've got to sit up, I'm getting cold and I have got to move." He had almost fallen asleep with his face in her pussy. He sat up, and she kissed him on the cheek. "There is a reason they invented furniture."
They laughed and he helped her up. "Do you want a robe?"
"I'll be fine. It's just the floor was cold."
He lit a fire in the fireplace, then sat on the sofa next to her. Laura looked radiant . . . her dress was carelessly about her thighs, and her breast was still exposed. "God, you're beautiful." He leaned down and kiss her breast.
"Baby . . ." she whispered, "show me, please, then later . . ."
He sat up. "Later?"
She took his face between her fingers and guided his mouth to hers. They kissed. Slowly at first, but the hunger grew. Their tongues danced . . . she pushed his robe off and pulled him tight to her . . . she groaned as his cock pressed hard against her.
She began to kiss and nibble his neck. "What's later?" he whispered.
She looked at him. "There is no later, not now." She stood up and unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall to the floor . . . off came the stockings and garter belt, she unhooked her bra, pushed her panties down and off . . . then climbed back on him. She straddled his leg and humped, wiggling with each thrust against his cock. "You're going to fuck me. I want your cock inside me . . . you're going to fuck mommy until she screams . . . Do you like that?"
"Yes . . . I want to . . . I've always wanted to . . . fuck you."
"Do you like hearing mommy talk dirty?" She pushed her hairy pussy against his cock and began to rub. "Rubbing your cock with my cunt? Yes, I know you like pussy, don't you? Say it."
"I love your pussy."
"What would you do for mommy's pussy?"
"Anything . . . god, anything."
"I want to see you dressed, then I want you to take me . . ." she climbed off him. "Go on. I want you dress . . . I want you to become my Devin . . . I want to see you dressed like a woman, I want you to lift your dress for me. I want to see you in feminine panties and stockings . . . I want you to push your panties aside, mount me, and breed with me as hard as you can."
Dave stood up, he would have hidden his swollen cock from his wife . . . she was a lights out only kind of woman . . . but not Laura. She want to see and be seen. She sat naked, feeling her pussy, touching her nipples, encouraging him . . . for a moment he watched her, and he began playing with himself.
"Mmm . . . yes, play with your cock . . . and your balls."
He blushed and stopped.
"Oh, no . . . I want to watch you play with yourself, I want you to make up for all the years I couldn't watch . . . but don't you dare cum now . . . I want your sperm inside me . . . the first time you cum for mommy . . . I want it in my cunt. . . . so dress for mommy."
His heart raced . . . "I don't want to tear anything."
"You won't . . . and I don't care."
Dave picked up her panties I want to be your special girl, Devin . . . I want to worship you . . . . . he put them on. He almost came when they touched is cock. He closed his eyes and froze to cool off, to keep from coming, "Mommy, I want to be Devin," he whispered. "Your Devin."
She smiled. She tingled thinking about him, dressing him as her special daughter . . . Laura's hand slid between her legs. "Devin!" she whispered. Davey sat up and saw her . . . his mother . . . with her hand between her legs, rubbing herself through her panties. "Mommy?" he asked? "Baby, Mommy has . . . needs . . ." "Are you okay? Can I help you?" "Oh, yes, you can help me. . . . come closer. I know you think about mommy and you wear her clothes." He blushed and started to turn away. She grabbed his hand. "Mommy likes that . . . she likes it more than you can know. And you play with yourself too, until you mess . . . and it feel good, doesn't it?" "Yes." Mommy does it too, she likes to play with herself and she gets wet and open," she took his hand and pushed it inside her panties. "That is mommy's most secret and special place, and she wants to share everything with Devin." "I want to be Devin." "What, Devin?"
"I want to be . . . Devin." He picked up her garter belt and put it on. As he adjusted it, his hand brushed his cock, it was dripping and he got precum on it.
"Lick your juices, for me."
He never had, never thought about, but he did. It was sweet and sticky.
"Good girl," she whispered.
He shivered hearing that. I'm a man . . . I'm a man . . . part of him cried out but his heart was racing, he wanted to dress for mommy, to feel lace and satin, to feel the straps and buckles and snaps, to be special . . . to be a . . . . no, no . . . “I'm a m—“ but the word and the thought faded . . . He looked at her and she smiled, "Dress for me, Devin."
He put on stockings. He put on her bra. He burned with shame but as he put his arms through the straps, he also wanted to sing . . . then the dress . . . He stood before her . . . "Mommy." The front of her dress was tenting out.
* * *
Laura stood up and hugged him. She ground herself against his cock. She smelled her pussy on his face and her perfume on his dress. "I've dreamt of this since . . . since you first tried on my panties."
"Is it . . . is it really ok?"
"Yes . . . oh, yes," she almost cried with joy. "Fuck me on my bed."
He picked her up and carried her to her bed. He laid her down. She spread her legs and lifted her knees. "Fuck mommy!"
He lifted his dress and pushed his panties down. He knelt between her legs and as he started to lay down, she lifted her legs and put them on his shoulders, then she grabbed his cock and guided it into her wet pussy. It slid in as if his cock was made for her pussy. It slid in so deep he hit her womb and she gasped.
"Yes, fuck me."
He began to fuck her. She masturbated, rubbing her clit, as he fucked her.
"Yes, deeper . . . harder . . . "
He knew he couldn't wait, he fucked faster and faster.
"Mate with mommy . . . Mate with me!"
He came hard. As he did she came too, growling, "Give me your seed . . . give me your baby."
They lay there, hot, sweaty, sticky. Glowing in satiated lust. Then, as his cock soften and slid out she whispered, "Do you want it?"
Then before he could ask what she meant, she knelt over his face . . . her pussy hair wet and clumpy, her pink inner lips open . . . and a pearl formed . . . His mother, naked, fucked, dripping, was offering him their juices. He looked up, over her mound, the gentle swell of her tummy, and her magnificent tits . . . she was smiling down at him . . . and he opened his mouth . . . he watched as the pearl grew and then in one long string, began to fill his mouth. He pulled her down onto his face and licked her clean.
When she moved off him, she licked his face . . . then lay next to him.
She started to giggle.
"What?"
"Why would Doris divorce you? You are a great fuck!"
"Jesus, Mother!"
"It's true. . . . let me taste our cum." She kissed him deeply, tasting mostly his cum, but savoring it. "What do you think?"
"About?"
"Fucking your mother, of course."
"Wait a minute, I have to pee." He walked to the bathroom, leaving the door open so she could watch. He lifted his dress and sat down to pee. When he was through, he talked back and stood for a moment, then smiled, "Give me one more minute before I answer that." He took the dress off, standing in panties, a bra, stockings and a garter belt, he looked through her dresser until he found a babydoll, which he slipped on. His cock was starting to swell. He got back on the bed next to her. "Now, what was the question?"
"What do you think about fucking your mother?"
"Come here," he patted his chest. "Sit here."
When she was sitting on his chest, legs stretching past his head . . . he looked up and smiled. "Mommy, I'm wearing your clothes . . . that was my fantasy . . . I'm wearing them for you, and that was part of my fantasy," He kissed her thigh. "I've fucked you, mated with you." He put his hands under her ass and pulled her close. "I love your pussy." He kissed it. He lifted her more, closer . . .his tongue ran down between the folds of her pussy . . . and he kissed her asshole. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her, and kissed again . . .
"Stop, or you're driving me crazy!" He touched his tongue to the sensitive tight ring. "Oh, my god!" He flicked it around. After a few minutes, he pushed her off, then stood up.
"I think I like fucking my mother. What do you think? Look at me . . . I'm a man, I'm almost forty, and I'm wearing your panties and bra . . . I love it . . . I love you . . . you asked, so here." He began to play with his cock. It was hard and red. He jerked it, faster and faster. "Mommy," he cried, "mommy!" And he squirted. Cum shot onto the floor. Cum dribbled over his hand.
He licked his hand clean. "I am your . . . your panty boy . . . I want to pleasure you as much as you want."
Naked, aroused, hungry for her son . . .She stood for him, knowing now how much he appreciated every inch of her. Slowly letting him savor her before she knelt before him. She put her hands on the backs of his thighs, and ran them up and down, then he gripped her butt. She breathed on his cock, only inches from her face. She could see it, a large semihard snake curled, content, but waiting to stiffen, to enter and impale . . . to impregnate . . . and she, his mother, wanted to be mounted and entered. She need to be impaled on his cock, she wanted it to thrust deep inside her, stretching, filling . . . she wanted his seed . . . she wanted him to mate with her. She rubbed her face against it . . . kissed him through his panties. She pulled his panties down and licked clean his semi-hard and balls clean. She looked up at him, "And I loved it." Without taking her eyes from his, she licked his shaft. "I want your cock." She sucked one of his balls into her mouth and tongued it. She let it slip from her mouth. "I want your cum . . . your sperm . . . every drop." She sucked the red, velvity head and teased his pee-hole with her tongue. "You're going fuck every inch of me and you're going to paint me with cum."
She stood up and took his hand, "Come to bed."
"Since your father's away, I thought we could have a quiet lunch."
He was waiting for the usual mother-son fights that he remembered having for the last—no, all of his life. Usually it was around the third glass of wine, David smiled, there was time, they were only on their first.
They made small talk, the divorce was over almost five months now, no he wasn't dating, his dad was visiting relative in Maine for a month, and, "I'm just plain bored," his mother said.
"What about all your friends?"
"Bridge, golf, and health. That's it, and there is only so much of that I can take."
"Laura, you look good," he said absent mindedly. He always called his mother by name. The distance felt safe. But she did look good. Unlike many of her friends who dressed casually, she always wore a dress or a tailored pants suite, and she had her hair done every week. She was a little plump, but David had passed her by years ago. Since the divorce, he had lost some wait and was beginning to feel better about himself.
"Thank you. You've lost a little weight, that's nice. But must you call me Laura?"
"It is your name. And, thank you."
They ordered. It started to rain. "Damn," David said, "I was going to do a quick survey for a design job, now, I'll have to reschedule."
"How is the business?"
"Actually, pretty good. When the economy goes down, people remodel or redo their landscaping rather than move or build. This is a commercial job in Bedford."
Just after he poured her her third glass of wine, she got an odd look on her face. "I was cleaning out my closets the other day and I remembered something I've always wanted to ask you. When you were a c***d, did you play with my clothes?"
"Laura?" He hadn't thought about it for years. But he had worn her clothes. He had is first orgasm wearing her panties. Her clothes were his fetish for years, well into high school . . . and on and off for years after, and he still fantasized about her.
"What does a young boy do with his mother's panties?"
Dear god, he thought, let’s not fight about this! "Nothing, honest."
"David, I found . . . stains on my panties and bras, even some nighties . . . stains that a woman does not make."
David blushed. "Laura!" he whispered loudly. "Please."
"It's a simple enough question. You have to remember it went on for years and years. My lingerie would disappear. Sometimes it would reappear, sometimes not. Sometimes it had . . . crusty . . . stains."
"Mother . . ." he leaned close, and his face burned red with embarrassment. "I masturbated in them. Okay. I jerked off and came in them."
"Don't get huffy. I thought it was kind of cute, wearing mommy's naughty lingerie . . . yes, I know those were your favorites, I had to buy extras, did you know? It was kind of--"
"Stop! Dear god, stop. Please. I'm almost forty, and that was a long time ago. Let it go."
"I'm sorry if it embarrasses you. I'll be quiet."
He was grumpy as he drove her home.
* * *
"This rain isn't going to let up and you don't have an appointment, so why don't you come in for a few minutes."
"I can't, I--"
"I what? You're living alone right now. What? You’re going to play golf in this rain?"
They parked in the drive and ran for the the front door. Laura slipped and pulled him down with her. As the rain drenched them, they laughed. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink."
"Nonsense," she said trying to get up but slipping again.
David picked her up. "It's the least I can do."
She put her hands around his neck and buried her head against his neck.
Inside, he set her down on the sofa.
"My hero," she whispered. "Now you have to stay, until we get your clothes dry." Use my bathroom, there's a robe and I'll change too."
He was okay with the robe—her robe—at least, he though, it was not too frilly. When he walked out, her door was still closed. "I'll make us some hot coffee."
When he went into the living room with the coffee, she was as made up and presentable as at lunch.
They chatted for a while, warmed by the coffee.
"I need to tell you something, and I want you to promise you won't get angry like you did at lunch."
"Laura, not that--"
"Please, this is hard for me, too."
"Okay."
"You didn't hear me at lunch, I said I bought extra . . . for you! I was flattered and excited that you would fantasize about me and masturbate. In that sense, I was your first, wasn't I?"
He nodded, yes.
"I wanted to see you. I wanted . . . " tears seemed to fill her eyes. "I couldn't, and it would have been wrong . . . but . . ." She sipped her coffee and wiped her eyes. They sat in silence. The rain had turned more to fog and the house felt cozy and safe. She looked at him. "Darling, I . . . I still want to."
"You're not asking . . . " he couldn't go on. He drank his coffee. "I'll get us another cup."
"Don't tell me that you never fantasized about this moment." She asked as he set the coffee down. "And, this is that moment."
"Laura. . . you're not serious are you? Maybe the wine, the fall--"
"Oh, but I am serious." She smiled. "I want to see you in panties . . . I want to see what you did every night with mommy's lingerie."
"No, I can't," but the blush seemed to give him away. "I'm almost forty . . . I don't--"
"Play with yourself? Of course you do. You probably stroke your cock and squirt at least once a day, or more."
"Mother!"
"Mmm, yes, 'mother,' but I want more." She pushed her hand between her legs, bunching her dress deep between her legs. "Much more!"
Dave looked away, but his robe was tenting out. "You're . . . You're sixty-one! . . . You're . . ." But he wanted to look. He stole a peak. She was watching. Smiling.
"My baby's got a stiffy."
He looked down and saw that his cock was stick up, out of the robe, hard and proud. He pulled his robe over it. "Mom!"
"Better." She pulled her dress out from between her legs and up out of the way, so she could show him her pink panties. "You know you need to look between mommy's legs. At her . . . pussy . . .yes?. All these years, you've wanted to . . . wanted it . . . wanted her."
"This is . . . you're . . ."
"Baby . . . look at mommy."
He turned. She was sitting with her legs apart. He gasped. Dark stockings, pink garter belt and pink panties with a dark wet spot where . . . he almost gasped, she was wet . . . she was holding her dress up for him to look. And he stared. "Oh, my god! . . . Oh my god." His robe fell open, and his stiff, hard cock stuck out for her to see.
She ran her fingers over her mound and over her wet spot. "Yes, baby . . . we couldn't then . . ."
She was smiling, a woman, sexual, beautiful, alluring . . . and . . . "Mommy," he whispered.
She let her dress fall, and unbottoned the top. Never taking her eyes off Dave, she lifted her left breast out of her bra and held it, offering it to her son.
He went to her. He knelt next to her and took her nipple in his mouth. He suckled . . . and her nipple got hard in his mouth and she began to moan and caress his head. "Yes, suck . . . suck on my titty . . ." After a few minutes, she took his head between her fingertips . . . "Now . . . just like when you were young, I bought you panties . . . and more!"
"I . . ."
"But you must ask."
As he knelt with her robe on, her perfume wafting about him, and her breast still in his face, the feel of her nipple still on his lips and tongue . . . he was close to his fantasy, close to what he had wanted since he could remember. . .
. . . But you must ask . . . "Mommy!" He yelled when she suddenly opened the door and found him wearing her naughtiest lingerie. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. He had been about to jerk off, he had put on more this time than ever before, like the bra . . . and he had put it on in her room. He turned away to hide his hardness. She grabbed his shoulders and spun him back around to face her. "What are you doing?" He burned with shame. She looked down at him, Tears filled his eyes. "Mommy, I--"
. . . "Mommy?"
She looked at him, up and down . . . then she smiled. "You have a boner!" He covered himself. "Oh no, that's like a man's cock! Don't hide it. Show Mommy. Show me that you're a man." He lifted his night gown. "Go on. Show me what Mommy does to you." His hands shook, but he pushed his panties down and involuntarily, his hips pushed forward, as if . . .
. . . his swollen and needy cock pressed against her hip
". . . do you want to fuck mommy with it? Fuck her with your cock? . . . but look at you, so pretty in panties . . . and, so darling in a bra . . . Maybe you want to be mommy's little girl, a special little girl? Do you? Ask mommy."[/]
. . . "Mommy?"
"Mmm, yes, what?"
"Mommy?" Davey asked her. They were sitting watching TV. He kept peaking at her. She knew he was more than just curious about sex, women, and especially her. Her panties kept disappearing and reappearing, often with crusty patches of dry cum. It made her smile that he was masturbating, especially that he fantasized about her and played with her panties. As they watched TV, she let her skirt ride up and she parted her legs . . . hoping he would see . . . She tingled thinking about him, dressing him as her special daughter . . . using David/Devin for her pleasure . . . one of her favorite games with Devin was to tease her . . . masturbating, showing her her panties, dressing or undressing . . . Laura's hand slid between her legs. "Devin!" she whispered. Davey sat up and saw her . . . his mother . . . with her hand between her legs, rubbing herself through her panties. "Mommy?" he asked? "What, Devin?"
. . . He remembered!
He was in grade school, and he had asked about names. David meant beloved. "What about your name?" "Laura comes from the laurel bush, and there's a boy's version of Laurel, it's Laurence." "That would be funny if you were named Laurence." They laughed. "Or we could have called you Devin." "Why's that funny?" "Because, silly, it's a girl's name."
. . . He sat up. "Did you call me . . . Devin?"
Laura blushed. "I . . . didn't . . . I . . ." She looked down and saw his massive cock. "Oh, my god, it's . . . it's . . ."
"Mom," he whispered, "tell me . . . tell me."
"I guess . . . yes . . . it was . . . my fantasy."
Surprised by his feeling, he felt crestfallen . . . "You wanted a daughter, not . . ."
* * *
"I've hurt you! Even now . . . " she pushed herself up past him and went to the window. She began to cry. "Maybe you should just leave. I've made a big enough fool of myself. I don't want to destroy what might be left between us.”
"Mom?"
"God dammit, go!"
He watched as her back jerked with each sob. She wilted to the floor.
"Mom?"
"Go," she whispered.
He sat. He watched. He had gone from ecstasy to tragedy. But it was close . . . for both of them. He wanted what she had offered.
"Mom," he knelt next to her on the floor, "See . . . it's my dream too."
"You're just saying--"
"No! I . . . I want to dress for you and be dressed by you. I want . . ."
"What?" She looked at him, and wiped her tears away. "What do you want?"
"To . . ." he looked away, "to . . ."
"To humor me?"
"Humor you?" He turned to her. "Tell me what you want? To dress me as . . . as Devin . . . to suckle . . . to be your . . . daughter . . . your . . . lover . . . tell me."
"Lover?" she whispered so softly he wasn't sure he had heard her.
"I . . . mommy, I'm asking . . . I want to wear panties . . . I want to dress like you."
"And . . ." she knew she had to say it, to dare, to find out, now, let the hurt come now . . . "and lover?"
There were no words . . . not that she could believe . . . no words. He leaned down and put his head in her lap. He kissed her through the folds of her dress. He waited for her to push him away, to say he had gone too far. But she sighed. "Oh, god, yes . . . kiss mommy."
His heart raced. He kissed her thigh, the bare flesh just above the top of her stocking. She caressed his head.
Yes, they were close. Each had dreamt of this moment. Each wanted . . .
"Don't stop," she said.
He lifted her dress and kissed her mound. "Yes," she breathed, "yes."
He licked and kissed her mound. Her scent was strong, fertile, rich. He could feel her curly hair beneath the pink lace and satin . . . he wanted to satisfy her, to be one with her orgasm . . . he pushed his head deeper. He felt the lips of her sex, swollen, waiting to be filled . . . her hips pushed up against his mouth as he kissed harder. He was intoxicated by her scent and taste . . . a woman's arousal . . . mommy's arousal.
He pulled her panties aside and kiss her flesh . . . her sex . . . her pussy.
"Eat me! Eat mommy's cunt." His fingers slid under her ass, he squeezed and pulled into her more. He sucked the moistness into his hungry mouth, is tongue explored every fold of flesh, he found her clitoris and sucked on it. She bucked and squirmed, moaned and sighed. Then he felt her back stiffen and arch. She clamped his head between her thighs as he pushed his tongue deep inside her.
"Fuck me with your tongue!" Thrashing and screaming, she came against his mouth. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
His face was wet and sticky, rubbed red from her scratchy pussy hair as she humped his face. He was clamped between her legs. Dark, moist, warm . . . She relaxed her legs and pushed her dress down over him. . . . he moved his head so that he could rest it on her thigh, but his face was pressed against her mound . . . he felt . . . safe.
After a while, she moved. "Baby, you've got to sit up, I'm getting cold and I have got to move." He had almost fallen asleep with his face in her pussy. He sat up, and she kissed him on the cheek. "There is a reason they invented furniture."
They laughed and he helped her up. "Do you want a robe?"
"I'll be fine. It's just the floor was cold."
He lit a fire in the fireplace, then sat on the sofa next to her. Laura looked radiant . . . her dress was carelessly about her thighs, and her breast was still exposed. "God, you're beautiful." He leaned down and kiss her breast.
"Baby . . ." she whispered, "show me, please, then later . . ."
He sat up. "Later?"
She took his face between her fingers and guided his mouth to hers. They kissed. Slowly at first, but the hunger grew. Their tongues danced . . . she pushed his robe off and pulled him tight to her . . . she groaned as his cock pressed hard against her.
She began to kiss and nibble his neck. "What's later?" he whispered.
She looked at him. "There is no later, not now." She stood up and unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall to the floor . . . off came the stockings and garter belt, she unhooked her bra, pushed her panties down and off . . . then climbed back on him. She straddled his leg and humped, wiggling with each thrust against his cock. "You're going to fuck me. I want your cock inside me . . . you're going to fuck mommy until she screams . . . Do you like that?"
"Yes . . . I want to . . . I've always wanted to . . . fuck you."
"Do you like hearing mommy talk dirty?" She pushed her hairy pussy against his cock and began to rub. "Rubbing your cock with my cunt? Yes, I know you like pussy, don't you? Say it."
"I love your pussy."
"What would you do for mommy's pussy?"
"Anything . . . god, anything."
"I want to see you dressed, then I want you to take me . . ." she climbed off him. "Go on. I want you dress . . . I want you to become my Devin . . . I want to see you dressed like a woman, I want you to lift your dress for me. I want to see you in feminine panties and stockings . . . I want you to push your panties aside, mount me, and breed with me as hard as you can."
Dave stood up, he would have hidden his swollen cock from his wife . . . she was a lights out only kind of woman . . . but not Laura. She want to see and be seen. She sat naked, feeling her pussy, touching her nipples, encouraging him . . . for a moment he watched her, and he began playing with himself.
"Mmm . . . yes, play with your cock . . . and your balls."
He blushed and stopped.
"Oh, no . . . I want to watch you play with yourself, I want you to make up for all the years I couldn't watch . . . but don't you dare cum now . . . I want your sperm inside me . . . the first time you cum for mommy . . . I want it in my cunt. . . . so dress for mommy."
His heart raced . . . "I don't want to tear anything."
"You won't . . . and I don't care."
Dave picked up her panties I want to be your special girl, Devin . . . I want to worship you . . . . . he put them on. He almost came when they touched is cock. He closed his eyes and froze to cool off, to keep from coming, "Mommy, I want to be Devin," he whispered. "Your Devin."
She smiled. She tingled thinking about him, dressing him as her special daughter . . . Laura's hand slid between her legs. "Devin!" she whispered. Davey sat up and saw her . . . his mother . . . with her hand between her legs, rubbing herself through her panties. "Mommy?" he asked? "Baby, Mommy has . . . needs . . ." "Are you okay? Can I help you?" "Oh, yes, you can help me. . . . come closer. I know you think about mommy and you wear her clothes." He blushed and started to turn away. She grabbed his hand. "Mommy likes that . . . she likes it more than you can know. And you play with yourself too, until you mess . . . and it feel good, doesn't it?" "Yes." Mommy does it too, she likes to play with herself and she gets wet and open," she took his hand and pushed it inside her panties. "That is mommy's most secret and special place, and she wants to share everything with Devin." "I want to be Devin." "What, Devin?"
"I want to be . . . Devin." He picked up her garter belt and put it on. As he adjusted it, his hand brushed his cock, it was dripping and he got precum on it.
"Lick your juices, for me."
He never had, never thought about, but he did. It was sweet and sticky.
"Good girl," she whispered.
He shivered hearing that. I'm a man . . . I'm a man . . . part of him cried out but his heart was racing, he wanted to dress for mommy, to feel lace and satin, to feel the straps and buckles and snaps, to be special . . . to be a . . . . no, no . . . “I'm a m—“ but the word and the thought faded . . . He looked at her and she smiled, "Dress for me, Devin."
He put on stockings. He put on her bra. He burned with shame but as he put his arms through the straps, he also wanted to sing . . . then the dress . . . He stood before her . . . "Mommy." The front of her dress was tenting out.
* * *
Laura stood up and hugged him. She ground herself against his cock. She smelled her pussy on his face and her perfume on his dress. "I've dreamt of this since . . . since you first tried on my panties."
"Is it . . . is it really ok?"
"Yes . . . oh, yes," she almost cried with joy. "Fuck me on my bed."
He picked her up and carried her to her bed. He laid her down. She spread her legs and lifted her knees. "Fuck mommy!"
He lifted his dress and pushed his panties down. He knelt between her legs and as he started to lay down, she lifted her legs and put them on his shoulders, then she grabbed his cock and guided it into her wet pussy. It slid in as if his cock was made for her pussy. It slid in so deep he hit her womb and she gasped.
"Yes, fuck me."
He began to fuck her. She masturbated, rubbing her clit, as he fucked her.
"Yes, deeper . . . harder . . . "
He knew he couldn't wait, he fucked faster and faster.
"Mate with mommy . . . Mate with me!"
He came hard. As he did she came too, growling, "Give me your seed . . . give me your baby."
They lay there, hot, sweaty, sticky. Glowing in satiated lust. Then, as his cock soften and slid out she whispered, "Do you want it?"
Then before he could ask what she meant, she knelt over his face . . . her pussy hair wet and clumpy, her pink inner lips open . . . and a pearl formed . . . His mother, naked, fucked, dripping, was offering him their juices. He looked up, over her mound, the gentle swell of her tummy, and her magnificent tits . . . she was smiling down at him . . . and he opened his mouth . . . he watched as the pearl grew and then in one long string, began to fill his mouth. He pulled her down onto his face and licked her clean.
When she moved off him, she licked his face . . . then lay next to him.
She started to giggle.
"What?"
"Why would Doris divorce you? You are a great fuck!"
"Jesus, Mother!"
"It's true. . . . let me taste our cum." She kissed him deeply, tasting mostly his cum, but savoring it. "What do you think?"
"About?"
"Fucking your mother, of course."
"Wait a minute, I have to pee." He walked to the bathroom, leaving the door open so she could watch. He lifted his dress and sat down to pee. When he was through, he talked back and stood for a moment, then smiled, "Give me one more minute before I answer that." He took the dress off, standing in panties, a bra, stockings and a garter belt, he looked through her dresser until he found a babydoll, which he slipped on. His cock was starting to swell. He got back on the bed next to her. "Now, what was the question?"
"What do you think about fucking your mother?"
"Come here," he patted his chest. "Sit here."
When she was sitting on his chest, legs stretching past his head . . . he looked up and smiled. "Mommy, I'm wearing your clothes . . . that was my fantasy . . . I'm wearing them for you, and that was part of my fantasy," He kissed her thigh. "I've fucked you, mated with you." He put his hands under her ass and pulled her close. "I love your pussy." He kissed it. He lifted her more, closer . . .his tongue ran down between the folds of her pussy . . . and he kissed her asshole. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her, and kissed again . . .
"Stop, or you're driving me crazy!" He touched his tongue to the sensitive tight ring. "Oh, my god!" He flicked it around. After a few minutes, he pushed her off, then stood up.
"I think I like fucking my mother. What do you think? Look at me . . . I'm a man, I'm almost forty, and I'm wearing your panties and bra . . . I love it . . . I love you . . . you asked, so here." He began to play with his cock. It was hard and red. He jerked it, faster and faster. "Mommy," he cried, "mommy!" And he squirted. Cum shot onto the floor. Cum dribbled over his hand.
He licked his hand clean. "I am your . . . your panty boy . . . I want to pleasure you as much as you want."
Naked, aroused, hungry for her son . . .She stood for him, knowing now how much he appreciated every inch of her. Slowly letting him savor her before she knelt before him. She put her hands on the backs of his thighs, and ran them up and down, then he gripped her butt. She breathed on his cock, only inches from her face. She could see it, a large semihard snake curled, content, but waiting to stiffen, to enter and impale . . . to impregnate . . . and she, his mother, wanted to be mounted and entered. She need to be impaled on his cock, she wanted it to thrust deep inside her, stretching, filling . . . she wanted his seed . . . she wanted him to mate with her. She rubbed her face against it . . . kissed him through his panties. She pulled his panties down and licked clean his semi-hard and balls clean. She looked up at him, "And I loved it." Without taking her eyes from his, she licked his shaft. "I want your cock." She sucked one of his balls into her mouth and tongued it. She let it slip from her mouth. "I want your cum . . . your sperm . . . every drop." She sucked the red, velvity head and teased his pee-hole with her tongue. "You're going fuck every inch of me and you're going to paint me with cum."
She stood up and took his hand, "Come to bed."
Sherry
- 16.02.2021
- 26
- 0
