Sins From My Stepmother, Book 1 (Ch 1-5) free porn video

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual or past events and individuals is entirely coincidental. All characters are 18 years of age or over.

I

My name is Teddy Carlson. I’m twenty-two years old and I fucked my stepmother. Not just once in some momentary lapse of judgement. But again and again…and again.

Before you judge me, there’s a few things you need to understand. First, Dad and I never exactly got on like a house on fire. He was the CIO of a large hedge fund which meant that he wasn’t around much. He travelled to Europe regularly and commuted during the week to Manhattan for meetings.

When he was home, he was either at the office working late or in his study with the door firmly shut. I tended not to see him except at breakfast or dinner, and then, the conversation was largely unbearable. Dad would inevitably turn to sport, our single subject of common interest. “Hey, Teddy, you know the last time the Yankees played the Cubs at Wrigley on an 101 degree day, Bernie Williams hit two homers?” I’d nod along, feigning interest, as he reeled off a series of even more mind-numbing stats. Finally, Mom would interject by trying to steer the conversation to art – her single subject of common interest with Dad.

That was my best guess at how he’d landed her. Mom had been an aspiring art collector and Dad had introduced her to a lot of the prominent art dealers and artists on the East coast. Dad also came from good stock. His mother was a direct descendant of Teddy Roosevelt and his grandfather on his father’s side had been a Big Oil man.

So Dad was a tedious, well-connected workaholic. But the other thing you need to understand is that Mom was a living wet dream. A former Guess model and Miller Lite girl, she was tall, curvy and gorgeous. At thirty-eight, she had somehow managed to remain ageless and maintained her killer body. She’s five-foot-nine with never-ending legs, generous breasts and full hips that scoop dramatically into her slim waist. People who say Barbie’s proportions are unrealistic obviously never met my stepmother. Her face is pretty too, with long eyelashes, sculpted cheekbones and big, blue eyes that tease and smile at the same time. Her long brown hair rests on her shoulders in thick, tousled layers like in one of those Pantene Pro-V commercials.

One memory seared in to my brain from my early teenage years is of Mom parading around the house one evening in nothing but her heels and underwear. I was sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV when a flurry of long limbs and blow-dried hair burst in front of the screen.

“Teddy-bear. Do you know where Silvia left the dry cleaning? I’m running late for dinner with the Blackwells and I can’t find my red cocktail dress.”

Mom stood before me in matching off-white, La Perla bra and panties and Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Some subtle gold hoop earrings hung from her ears and a tiny bit of mascara on her eye lashes highlighted her sparkling, blue eyes. Aside from the missing dress, she was otherwise ready to go.

“I think she left them hanging on the chair next to the other sofa,” I said, trying my best not to gape at Mom’s perfect body.

Mom trotted across the room, her heels tocking on the hard wood floor. I watched her slim, sexy back as she lifted the dry cleaning onto the sofa and then bent over to sort through the garments. My eyes followed her long mane of brown hair down to her heart-shaped ass. Her panties stretched tightly across each cheek as she bent further down.

“Found it!” She cried, springing back upright, causing her 35Cs to bounce up and down from the sudden motion. They were thrusting proudly off her ribcage and bulging out over the fabric of the balconette bra like a pair of over-inflated water balloons. Her smooth skin pushed out just a touch beyond the top edges of the silk. And then she was gone as quickly as she had arrived, her long legs striding back down the hallway.

So Mom was incredibly, painfully hot. And I wasn’t the only person to think so. From as early as I can remember, Mom commanded the attention of men. I’d watch with amusement as their jaws dropped and they went goggle-eyed at the sight of her swaying hips and never-ending legs. When I was younger, she would pick me up from the front gate of school in her Range Rover in full hair and make-up, fresh from a photo shoot. As she stepped out of the car to greet me, the Dads on pick-up duty couldn’t help but stare at Mom’s full breasts and perfect ass. The school teachers and other Moms would look on with furrowed brows and clenched teeth with a mixture of awe and disapproval.

It was around about that time I realized Mom wasn’t your average Connecticut Mom. And that was saying something because there was no shortage of hot Moms in Greenwich. We lived in a neighborhood of Tudor-style houses and sprawling mansions owned by hedge fund managers, property developers and Connecticut bluebloods. Many touted their own trophy wife.

But Mom was different. Aside from being beautiful, she had a rebel flair and an innate sensuality about her. She was famous around town for having kicked one guy in the groin after he cut her off in traffic and stole her car park outside Whole Foods. Another time, we were paying for gas at the service station when the man serving us couldn’t stop gawking at her cleavage. “Careful Ed,” she said reading his name tag with a bemused smirk on her face, “you’ll sprain your eyes”. He turned bright red and undercharged us by accident.

But I know what you’re thinking. ‘That’s it? You slept with your stepmom because she’s hot and you didn’t get on with your Dad?’

Well, kind of. But if she was your stepmom, you would have tried to bang her too.

And if you think that’s bad, I haven’t even told you the worst part yet. Trust me, I don’t try and fool myself. I’m under no illusions. What happened that summer’s afternoon will stay with me for the rest of my days.

But, there is one other thing I haven’t mentioned. The spectacular, earth-shattering sex. Mom fucked me back every bit as hard as I fucked her and, boy, did we have a good time.

II

I can’t pinpoint an exact moment when the attraction between me and Mom became mutual. As I think back on it, it was more of a series of episodes, each one building on the last.

It was 1997 and Connecticut was experiencing its hottest June in fifty years. I was back home for summer after having just completed my second year at college. I’d spent the year playing wing for my college water polo team, the UCLA Bruins, and I was determined to spend next season playing center forward. For those of you who don’t know water polo, it’s basically the equivalent of QB1 in football. Coach’s intense training program meant that I’d already beefed up a lot since leaving school, but I’d been told I needed to get bigger still. So I signed up to an even more stringent diet and strength program for the summer. I worked out twice a day, mixing it up between weights and cardio. Fortunately, there was a premium gym in our neighborhood and plenty of space in our sunny back yard for drills. I could use our pool for laps too. It’s 25 yards and boasts some of the best views in Connecticut.

Not surprisingly, Mom got right behind my decision to beef up and eat more healthily. She had always lived a healthy lifestyle herself. She went to the gym or did pilates each day to maintain her figure. She put me on a detox program and made sure our double-door fridge was always stocked full of healthy sources of protein. She even whipped me up a green smoothie each morning and brought it into my room if I slept-in late.

So Mom became my number one cheerleader and nutritionist. And I certainly wasn’t complaining. Often, I’d be doing drills on the neatly trimmed stretch of lawn next to the pool while Mom egged me on from her sun lounger. Sometimes she’d just look up at me and smile, lift an eyebrow over her sunglasses and then tilt her head back down to her book. During my breaks, I’d steal a look at her firm breasts bulging out of her French bikini or her tanned legs stretching out across her lounge chair.

None of this was particularly unusual. Mom and I had always had a pretty good relationship. There was never any wicked stepmom dynamic like you see in the movies. Sure – Mom was fifteen years younger than Dad and a trophy wife of sorts – but she genuinely cared for me. She’d never had any k**s of her own as Dad didn’t want any more.
But it felt like her affections started to take on a new character after we started going to the gym together. We had a family membership at Elixr, a three story-fitness center downtown. Mom and I started sharing rides given we were both going most days of the week. We had each set a goal to reach by the end of summer. Mine was to put on an extra ten pounds of muscle while Mom decided she was going to regain her old measurements from her modelling days; a ridiculous 35-24-34. If you’re not sure what that looks like, picture Denise Richard-like curves.

We’d usually start together on the treadmills where I’d do a full thirty minutes before moving to the free weights, while Mom kept on with her cardio. I’d watch with a mix of amusement and pity as the other guys in the gym lined up to use the equipment closest to Mom’s treadmill. They would stare mesmerized as Mom’s jugs bounced up and down beneath her exercise top. I couldn’t blame them really; I made sure I got a good eyeful too. It also made me feel a little less weird about wanting to screw my own stepmother.

I can remember being the envy of the entire weights section one morning when Mom came over to me and asked if I could show her how to do crunches on the Swiss medicine ball. Most of the visitors didn’t realize we knew each other. Every eye in the room was transfixed by Mom’s body. Her chest was heaving, as the strapping, preppy-looking college k** held her thighs firmly in place for a few reps. I almost felt proud as we left the gym together.

After that, the touching and the feeling became more frequent. It started with technique, but quickly turned into pressing and squeezing. I’d be driving us home from the gym and Mom would reach across from the passenger seat and try to wrap her thumb and forefinger around my bicep. “Gee, honey. Looks like all those bicep curls have been paying off,” she would say, giving it a few squeezes. “You must be swotting away the girls.”

I shrugged. I was. My birth mother had been a stunner like Mom and thankfully I’d inherited my looks from her, not Dad. I was six-foot-one, broad shouldered and confident. I’d lost my virginity when I was sixteen to Missy Mansell, a popular varsity cheerleader, two years my senior. She’d told me my dick was a lot bigger than some of the seniors she’d slept with.

I enjoyed the extra attention from Mom and became increasingly more brazen with my compliments too. One morning, she turned up for our gym session in a pair of new shiny, high-rise leggings and a tight gray t-shirt cropped just above her belly button. Her tits stretched her crop top far out in front of her body and I watched them bounce against each other heavily as she came down the stairs. They were easily the size of cantaloupes.

“Whoa, Mom. Looking good,” I blurted out before I had a chance to stop myself.

“Thanks honey. They’re sexy aren’t they,” she said running a hand down the contour of one of her slim legs.

“They sure are,” I said nodding. “The guys down at Elixr are going to choke on their protein shakes.”

“Hmmm. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing Teddy.” A sly smile crept across her sexy lips as I led her out the front door.

Then there were the times I felt like I’d caught her checking me out. I came down to the kitchen one morning in nothing but my boxer shorts. Mom glanced up from her coffee and I could have sworn she took a double-take. By that stage, I’d filled out to a well-defined 180 pounds. I made myself a coffee at the counter and turned for the milk to catch Mom gazing right at my ass. Mom dropped her eyes back to her copy of Vogue, apparently absorbed in an article about at-home hair dye.


III

But it was on the Fourth of July that things really started to get blatant. It might sound tame, but the memory of that night alone still makes my cock stir. I’d been out all day at a friend’s barbeque and was fairly boozed when I got home at around midnight. As I stepped out of the taxi at the front of our house, I heard a lively buzz of talking and laughing coming from inside. Mom and Dad had been hosting a dinner party and it sounded like it was still going strong.

There was no way I was going to get stuck making small talk with a bunch of Dad’s drunk friends. So I headed down the side of the house to sneak in from the back.

I was crossing the back patio when I spotted a solitary, feminine silhouette smoking by the outdoor table. I walked up in the direction of the pool and quickly realized it was Mom.

“Whoa, Mom!? Busted!” I said, surprising her from behind with a squeeze on her shoulders

“Teddy!?” she said, jumping. “When did you get back?”

“I think the real question is: What are you doing smoking?”

“Not a word. It’s a one-off.” Dad bought Mom a holiday house in Lake Como years ago on the condition she quit. I hadn’t seen a cigarette touch her lips since I was a teenager. If he caught her smoking, there was a good chance WWIII could break out.

“But you told Dad you’d never smoke again,” I said, stirring.

“Do you always do as your father says?” she asked, squinting her eyes and blowing a stream of smoke at me. She looked even sexier than usual in a ridiculously low-cut, black cocktail dress that barely covered her full breasts.

“You got one for me?”

“But UCLA’s star center forward doesn’t smoke.”

“He does tonight,” I said helping myself to the pack of Davidoffs on the table.

“Fine. We can be naughty together then,” she said leaning over with her Zippo to give me a light.

I took a long drag, stealing a glance at Mom’s lap as I pulled back. Her dress was riding up her thigh, showing off her tanned legs.

“So how longs this been going on?” I asked.

“Only when your father’s being an ass.”

“A pack a day then?” Mom smiled, but didn’t laugh.

There was a long pause.

“How was your party?” she asked.

“Good. You should see the Buckley’s new pad in Riverside. Its made for a party.”

“Meet any girls?” she asked before wrapping her lips around the straw of her cocktail.

“Some.”

“Let me guess. They were all getting around in their itsy bitsy bikinis taunting you boys.”

“Yeah, that’s about right,” I said smiling, stealing her glass and taking a sip of whatever she was drinking.

“What about me? Think I need to go in for a lift yet?” she asked, cupping her hands under her tits and hoisting them up and down a couple of times.

“C’mon, Mom. You’ve got great tits,” I said. “And you know it.”

“I know,” she said with a wicked grin, looking down at her cleavage. “I do, don’t I?”

“Most girls my age would kill for a pair like yours.”

“You’ve become quite the silver-tongued devil, haven’t you, Teddy?”

There was a roar of laughter from inside and Mom glanced at her Montblanc. “Shit,” she said, stubbing out her cigarette and standing up. “I better get back. You coming to say hi?”

“Uh-uh…You can have all of that fun to yourself,” I said.

“Remember, Teddy,” she said sternly. “This is our little secret.”

She leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then her lips moved to my ear, lingering for a long second. “Don’t stay up too late, you big tiger,” she whispered.

I watched her make her way back up the garden path in her high heels, her hips swaying more than usual. I tilted my head to get a better view when, suddenly, she stopped and bent down to adjust her stockings. Mom spotted me through her legs, gawking at her upside down. She pulled back up and gave me a long, probing look. And then a smirk crept across her elegant face before she turned and kept on back to the party.

When I eventually did make it to bed that night, I almost ripped the head off. I lay in bed, madly jacking my cock with both hands, mentally pounding Mom doggy-style. Her ass quivered and her big tits swung back and forth with every lunge. I still remember blowing a giant load all over the carpet. So much for having trouble getting it up drunk.

I collapsed on my pillow, drifting off to sleep. There was no doubting it anymore: I had a seven-inch johnson with my 38-year-old stepmother’s name on it.

IV

After the Fourth of July episode, I felt emboldened enough to make my first move. I was enjoying a beer in the pool one afternoon listening to the cicadas humming in the heat when I felt a shadow cast over my inflatable ring. I lifted my dark glasses and was blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the pool’s limestone edges. My pupils adjusted and I looked up again to see Mom peering down at me. She was wearing a clingy, red one-piece swimsuit that showed off her deep cleavage and firm ass.

“Enjoying yourself, honey?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and motioning at the bottle of beer in my right hand.
I mumbled something about taking a break and dropped my sunglasses back down to make sure she couldn’t see my eyes racing over her body.

Mom sat on one of the lounge chairs and interrupted again. “Teddy, do you think you could cream my back?” She didn’t seem the slightest bit phased by the inconvenience of her request. Or her choice of words.

I rolled off the ring, swam to the end of the pool and hauled myself out of the water.

Mom had pulled down the straps of her swimsuit and lay flat on her stomach, waiting. Her toned body glimmered in the hot afternoon sun. I sat down on the end of the lounge chair and squirted some lotion into my hand. Then I threw a leg over the foot of the chair so I was straddling it and began rubbing Mom’s back. Her bare skin was warm to the touch.

Mom jumped. “Ooh, that’s cold,” she said gasping. Then she closed her eyes and leaned back into my rubbing.
I allowed myself the pleasure of pouring my eyes over her body unobserved. The V-shaped bottom barely covered the globes of her beautiful ass, and her long, sleek legs were bathed in the light from the afternoon sun. Her bare back was proud and defined but not the slightest bit fleshy.

After a few seconds, she smiled over her shoulder at me, peering under her small, framed sunglasses.

“Hot enough for you?”

I tensed for a moment until I realized it was an innocent question.

“Yeah, feels like it’s at least 100 degrees.”

As I spread the lotion across Mom’s upper back, I became increasingly brazen. I started to vary the pressure a bit, turning it into a massage of sorts. I caressed her upper lats with my palms and then worked my fingers in between her shoulder blades.

“Mmmm, what’s this? Do I feel a massage coming on?” she asked.

“Maybe, if you play your cards right, Mom.”

“Mmmmmm, yeah, rub it just there,” she said.

I worked her upper back for a while. “There?”

“Yes, ah, harder – squeeze.”

I did. Then I moved my thumbs to her lower lats as my fingers gripped her trim waist. She sighed, relaxing more, as though her body was melting towards my hands.

“So what are the girls at UCLA like? Are they pretty?” Mom asked, her voice sleepy and muffled.

“Yeah,” I said. “Cali girls like to look after themselves,” I said picturing their tanned, firm bodies roller skating down the beach.

Mom went quiet. Wrong answer. “But none of them are as gorgeous as you, Mom.”

“Oh, thank you, honey.” She paused for a moment. “I bet all the girls at college think you’re drop dead gorgeous.”
I let the compliment pass and things went quiet again except for the sound of teenagers yelling and swimming in a nearby pool. Someone else was tuned into a ball game on a transistor radio.

I slid my hands further down, gently pushing her bathers towards the small of her back. I gazed at her fully, shapely ass, blood rushing to my loins.

“Mmm,” Mom purred, moving her hips a little. My cock was about to burst through my trunks.

I wondered how far I was prepared to take this. Maybe I could let my hands tell her what I wanted. Slowly, I edged them lower to the top of her smooth ass.

And then suddenly Mom’s head jerked as if she were waking. “Thanks, honey,” she said clearly, pulling herself up. She reached behind, pulling up her bathers and slipping on her shoulder straps.

“My pleasure, Mom,” I said, getting up from the lounge chair.

I’d crossed the red line. I headed inside, walking bow-legged like a cowboy whose just tried to break in the wrong horse. If I didn’t get some release soon, I was going to explode.

V

And then, only a few days later, by some warped misalignment of the stars, I got my wish. That one wish I’d been fantasizing about since I was a puberty-ridden teenager.

It was a Saturday evening. Dad was staying in London for the weekend to wine and dine some investors in a corporate box at Wimbledon. I’d arrived home early after a failed date with Laurie Thomas. I’d slagged off the Princeton Tigers in the car on the way to the bar and it turned out her half-brother was the goalie. So the night was over before it had even started. The sun was still high in the sky and it seemed more like late afternoon than the end of the day. I decided to go for a swim to blow off some steam and get some relief from the heat.

I’d only been the in the water a few minutes when I heard the door leading into our backyard slam. I finished my lap and came up for air to see a pair of six-inch stilettos perched at the edge of the pool. My eyes wandered up past a pair of impossibly long, bare legs.

“Hey, honey,” Mom said flashing me a cheeky smile and tossing her purse onto a deck chair.

“Hey Mom,” I said, drinking in the rest of her appearance as I caught my breath.

She was wearing a white, skin-tight dress. The material was stretched so tight against her round jugs that the spaghetti straps looked tighter than the mooring lines on the Goodyear blimp. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail with a few strands falling free. She was undeniable proof there was a god.

“How’s my big muscle man?” She asked, walking across the deck, swaying her hips more than usual in the tight dress.
Horny as all hell, I felt like saying. “Good Mom. Just cooling off in the heat.”

She leant unsteadily on the garden table and I realized she was drunk. She’d spent the day at the polo – the kind with horses – for her friend Harriett’s hen’s party, so it wasn’t surprising.

“How was the Classic?” I asked, standing up and lifting my upper body out of the water. By now I was deeply tanned and well-toned. I could feel Mom’s gaze on my chest as I stood there glistening.

“Hot,” she said, her eyes still fixed on me. “But fun. By the time I left, Hattie was surrounded by a team of Argentinian polo players, so mission accomplished.” She sat down by the edge of the pool and lifted one of her feet into the air to remove a stiletto. Her skirt rode up her knees exposing her toned thighs.

“These heels have been killing me all afternoon.” Mom slipped the other one off and dipped both feet into the water.

“And this heat!”

“So what did you do all day?” I asked.

“You know…What girls at hen’s parties do,” she said.

“Uhmm, I kind of don’t Mom. I’m a twenty-two year old frat student, remember?”

Mom arched an eyebrow at me, seemingly skeptical. “Well, we drunk a lot of champagne, gossiped and told a bunch of guys to leave us alone,” she said. “By the way, you boys really need to work on your pick-up lines. One Lothario about your age told me I looked like the bride in a Guns N Roses music video.”

I knew immediately the video he was talking about. The girl was a perfect ten.

“He’s right Mom. You kind of do,” I said.

“Oh, Teddy, come on,” she chuckled. Mom was doing her best to conceal her smile.

I decided to press on. I could tell Mom was in a flirty mood and I was feeling cocky. “You’re actually better looking than her Mom and you’ve got bigger tits.”

“Teddy!” Mom said.

“Sorry Mom, but you do look super sexy in that dress,” I said taking a step towards her in the water.

“Why, thank you, honey. Its new.” She looked down at her body and ran her hands over the tight fabric clinging to her hips. She glanced back up at me with a knowing smile.

I felt my cock stir despite the brisk temperature of the pool. “Why don’t you take it off and come in for a swim?”

She paused for a second, not sure how to respond. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“Really? You seem like you do,” I said, flicking my arm against the water and splashing the entire bottom half of her dress.

“Ahhh!” she squealed, throwing her arms up in shock. “I’m soaked!” Her big melons thrust forward provocatively.

“So you may as well get in then,” I teased.

“Fine, I will,” Mom pronounced, springing to her feet.

She reached behind her back and matter-of-factly unzipped the top of her dress. I watched in disbelief as she pulled it off her shoulders down to her monumental bust line. Her cleavage began to spill out like floodwater over a crumbling dam. She was struggling to get the fabric over her tits so she arched her back, revealing the faint outline of her rib cage. Her bra was sheer white and covered in an intricate floral pattern. I could see her nipples jutting through the thin fabric.

With a sultry swivel of her hips, Mom peeled the rest of the dress past her slim waist and over her thighs. Her panties were matching white, lace numbers that dove into her crotch in a deep V-shape. The material lay perfectly over her bronzed, supple curves, and I imagined what her beaver looked like.

She paused, bending at the waist with her tits practically bursting out of her bra, her hands pushing her dress down over her knees. “Having fun?” she asked, looking up at me.

I stood there frozen, as speechless as a Trappist monk with a bad case of dysphonia.

“Thought so,” she smirked, satisfied. She kicked the dress off her bare feet onto the deck and patted down to the deep end of the pool. Her firm, statuesque ass wiggled wonderfully. She placed one of her long legs onto the diving board and walked up to the end. Then, without hesitation, she took a couple of rebounds and dived into the water. A perfect dismount.

Seconds later, she surfaced a few feet in front of me, her front glistening with luminous droplets of water.
“Hmmm, three out of ten,” I announced. “Your entry was all off.”

“You jackass!” She laughed, sending a wave of water into my eyes. I splashed back, then quickly closed in on her, grabbing her wrists so she was powerless. We stood there in the water staring at each other for a moment. Her big, blue eyes glistened smartly up at me.

“Skinny dipping with my handsome stepson. Now I really feel naughty,” Mom said softly, catching her breath.

“It’s not skinny dipping if you’re not naked Mom,” I replied. There was a long pause. It was dead quiet except for the tinkling of chimes coming from the back porch. I was about to pull her into me when the sound of the phone ringing inside echoed across the back lawn.

Mom jerked back suddenly, as if snapping out of a trance. “That’s probably your father,” she said, moving towards the side of the pool. “It’s time for dinner anyway. I’ll get us some towels.”

She retreated to the edge of the pool. I watched as she pulled herself out of the water using the nearby ladder. Her firm tits jiggled and bumped against each other as she tip-toed past the lavender bushes back to the house.

I let out a sigh and collapsed back into the water. Unbelievable. I could practically hear the blood pounding in my ears as the sexual frustration ran through my body. The way my evening was going I was going to wind up fucking a door knob.

I looked down at my aching hard-on from our skin-on-skin contact. It was now or never. I pulled myself up onto the edge of the pool, then strolled back into the house.

Inside, the answering machine had picked up the call. It wasn’t Dad. Some lady from BoConcept calling to let Mom know her chair was ready. I couldn’t find Mom in the kitchen or the living room so I headed upstairs. I flicked on an occasional light on my way, leaving a trail of dripping water in the hallway behind me. It was least a few degrees warmer up top.

I found Mom inside the master bedroom. She was standing at the edge of her and Dad’s four-poster bed searching for towels through a pile of clean washing. There was a single bedside lamp on. I drunk in the sight of her half-lit figure from the doorway. A modern-day Botticelli: her sleek legs seemingly rising forever until finally flaring into her round full ass.

I stepped in and crept up behind her. The water from her wet underwear had formed little pools of damp on the carpet. The smell of perfume and chlorine floated into my sinuses. I was about to bring my hands up to her shoulders, when suddenly she turned.

Mom jumped, startled by my presence. We stood face-to-face for a moment, neither of us moving. The ambient light caught her hair and the eyelash on her right eye. Her lips glistened. I took a step closer. Mom lifted one of the towels from the bed, offering it to me. I took it with one hand and dropped it to the floor. There was a long pause. And then my hands were on her waist and my tongue was in her mouth. I walked her backward and pushed her up against the brick wall, pressing my bare chest against her breasts. I could feel the heat emanating from her body.
“Teddy,” she said, lolling her head back against the wall.

I brought my hands up to her shoulders, caressing her bra straps, and started sliding them down. I moved my hands to her breasts and gave them a firm squeeze over her cups.

Mom broke the kiss and pushed me back, her eyes flying up to meet mine. They were alight with fire. “Teddy,” she said holding my shoulders at arm’s length trying to slow me down. “We can’t. We’ll regret it for the rest of our lives.”
“No regrets Mom,” I said, bending forward and running my lips down her neck. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good.”

“It feels fucking fantastic,” she sighed, “but I’m your mother.”

“Stepmother,” I breathed into her ear. I ran my tongue up her neck in one long lick. She gasped, squeezing me as her head turned toward mine. I found her mouth again and kissed her hard. It was a long kiss this time – deep and probing with methodical, slow-cooked lust.

Her heavy breasts mashed against my bare chest and I began to traverse her body with my hands for the second time. I lightly skirted them down her back and then moved down and began to rub her ass through her panties. As our kiss grew hotter, I rubbed harder until she was undulating her entire body against mine.

And then Mom broke our embrace again. “No, Teddy, we can’t. We simply can’t,” she said, her hungry eyes betraying otherwise. “It could ruin you. And I’ll never get past the guilt.”

“It’ll be worth it,” I said pressing into her, “trust me.” I sucked at the nape of her neck and grabbed her waist. Mom’s knees gave away and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I dropped my right hand to her bare thigh and pressed my knee between her legs. I could feel her warmth underneath her wet panties. She let out a soft sigh.

“Christ,” Mom breathed heavily, “it would be fantastic wouldn’t it?”

The play was real.

I began tugging at her underpants and she wriggled, helping me. I slid her panties down to her knees and then slipped my hand back up between her legs.

“Oh baby, you’re soaking,” I whispered, probing with my fingers.

“I know,” she said, moving her body against my hand. Her lips were swelling and she opened her legs wider for me. She was breathing hard, caressing the back of my head with her left hand. “Oh God, that feels good,” she said, as I gently circuited her labia with my middle finger. She mashed her mouth over mine and moaned into my throat.

Then she reached down and groped the outline of my cock through my wet trunks, squeezing and palpating as though she were testing an eggplant for ripeness. Finally, her fingers reached under my waistband and found the head of my dick. It was standing to attention like the Washington Monument, one hundred per cent solid granite. The harder the conflict, the greater the triumph.

She started slowly pumping her fist up and down the top half of my shaft. We looked at each other while Mom jacked my tool and I rubbed her slick pussy. Her eyes were more beautiful than I had ever seen them, big and sparkling. She opened her mouth and our tongues met in a deliberate, lustful embrace.

I twisted, turning away so we fell over onto the bed together. I was lying on top of her and could feel her hard nipples pushing through the lace against my chest. I yanked her bra cups down. Then I brought my face to her tits and took her right nipple in my mouth.

My tongue orbited her aureole and she moaned. Her nipples were sticking out like little bullets. “Ohhh god,” Mom moaned.

I felt her hands on the back of my head and then her fingers sifting through my hair, her motions slow and massaging. Her nails scratched the back of my neck. Her grip tightened after a moment and she guided me to her other breast. I sucked on it greedily.

I pulled myself back up so I was level with Mom’s face. She parted her legs and I ground my cock against her mound. It was straining against my bathers like a muzzled pit-bull. I rubbed my bulge back and forth over the front of her panties a few times while I sucked on her throat. The soaked lacy material and my bathers were all that separated my throbbing dick from Mom’s pussy.

She licked the bottom of my earlobe with a quick dart of her tongue and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I stood up from the bed and pulled my shorts down. Mom mirrored me by lifting her ass off the comforter and sliding her panties the rest of the way down her thighs. She flicked them off her ankles and I noticed her beaver was the same sexy, chestnut brown color as the hair on her head.

I leant a knee back onto the bed and pushed Mom onto her back, crouching over her. My veiny shaft was hovering above her pussy like a snow leopard waiting to pounce. She spread her legs and arched her back, waiting for me. Her breath was coming in loud rushes, her bra flopping uselessly at her sides. And her bare tits, wet with my saliva, were heaving up and down with each gasp.

“Put it in,” she whispered at me through half-closed eyes, arching her back.

I lowered myself down and gave my cock a few strokes. Then I held it against her pussy lips without entering, teasing her. Mom’s hips rose to meet mine, waiting for me.

I was about to fuck my stepmother. It was like something out of a twisted Stephen King mini-series.

Any reservations Mom had were long gone. She looked up at me intensely, thrusting her hips up at the same time. “Hurry Teddy,” she gasped, tugging me towards her.

I pulled up, lifting my ass high into the air, and then plunged my cock deep inside with a single stroke. Mom let out a long, contended moan and our eyes explored each other’s while my cock sat buried in her pussy. She was even wetter than I had expected.

I was over her on straight arms and she gripped my triceps hard. I pulled out slowly, withdrawing until only the head of my engorged hard-on distended Mom’s pussy lips, then gently drove back home. She gasped again and ran her hands along my back.

I looked back down at Mom, still struggling to believe what was happening. She was nodding at me, her eyes wide with fear and lust and excitement. My weight over hers on the springy mattress made her big tits wobble from side to side. I spread my knees apart for maximum leverage and started driving in and out with long, deliberate strokes.

Mom met my rhythm, driving her hips up to meet my thrusts. I watched her face as best I could in the dim light. Her lips parting, stretching, her mouth opening and contorting. Eyes closed and then suddenly open, staring up at me, pleading with me. I bent my head down and Mom pushed her tongue into my mouth. Our tongues danced and our wet lips mashed against each other’s like a couple of horny teenagers. Mom clung onto my shoulders and scratched my back with her long fingernails.

I felt a strange calm descend over the room. Almost as if time was standing still as we did the unthinkable. Outside, it had become completely dark and motionless in the way that only hot summer nights can be. Inside, there was the undeniable wet, slapping sound of sex as I heaved back and forth over Mom. Her pussy was sucking my pole like warm, wet silk each time I pulled up. She had wrapped her long legs around me, locking her legs on my ass. I glanced up at the wall and noticed our shadow moving in the light of the bedside lamp: the depraved silhouette of mother and son making the b**st with two backs.

Then suddenly, I felt the heel of Mom’s hand on my chest. For a moment, I thought she was trying to push me off of her.

“Teddy,” she panted into my ear. “Teddy!”

“What?” I asked, impatient with lust, my lips trailing across her mouth.

“Sit up.”

“What?”

“Sit up…I want to see,” she husked.

I was already having enough trouble not blowing my nuts. Now my voyeuristic stepmother wanted to get a better view of my long dick ploughing in and out of her pussy.

I pulled my cock out. It was slick and glossy with her juice, glistening in the lamp light. I scooted onto my knees so we were at right angles while Mom lifted herself up onto her elbows. She propped her head back up against the wooden headboard and I bent her thighs back to her chest. Then she grabbed my throbbing cock, guiding it back towards her forest.

I wrapped a hand around each of her thighs and plunged back into her. “Unghhhh,” Mom groaned loudly.
“That better?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” she murmured. We both looked down. My wet, shiny cock was pistoning in and out of her like some sort of industrial hydraulic machine. A white ring of foam had formed around her pussy. Mom’s hands were clutching onto the bed sheets like her life depended on it. The sight was a massive turn-on. I wondered how long I was going to be able to last.

I craned my neck down and gave a her a long, wet kiss as I pumped steadily in and out. Then, ever so gradually, I picked up the pace. Mom cocked her legs to let me in deeper and I grabbed one of her thighs with both hands for extra leverage. Her tits started bounding back and forth with each thrust and my cock was making a slicking sound in her pussy.

“Ooh, Teddy, you’re fucking me so good,” she said, her words warbling as if something were drumming on her voice box.

“I’ve been wanting to for a long time,” I panted in between thrusts.

“That makes two of us, Teddy-bear. You’ve grown into such a big, strong hunk,” she said leering up at me. “I’ve been fighting naughty thoughts about you all summer.”

Then, to my surprise, Mom reached between her legs and started rubbing herself. Dear Lord. I watched as she quivered involuntarily with each rotation of her fingers. Her long brown hair was lying over her shoulders while a few locks curled around her melons. I kept myself propped up with one hand while I used the other to grab one of her tits and knead it firmly. “Mmmm, yeah, Teddy. Your strong hands feel so good,” she moaned massaging her clit.

It was all too much. If I didn’t cum soon, my nuts were going to explode. I took things up a gear and started pounding her in earnest, my pelvis whacking loudly against hers as my rod pummeled her box. Mom reached behind her back to grab the headboard for support. The bed springs squeeked in protest as she humped her pelvis at me in a frenzy, banging her pussy onto the base of my prick. Beads of perspiration were running down my forehead and dripping onto her stomach.

I gripped her firmly by the waist with both hands and started pounding like a drummer thrashing and sweating away at the end of a rock concert. My long dick made squishing sounds in her pussy and my pelvis slapped loudly against her ass. By now, Mom’s breasts were pinwheeling and slamming into each other like a pair of bumper cars.
“Mmmm, yeah, fuck me, Teddy, fuck me. That feels so good, honey.”

I looked down again to admire the view. Sweat had matted across Mom’s forehead and her mascara was running down her cheeks. Her jaw was slack, her tongue lolled, drool leaking from her mouth.

I bore down on her harder. She gripped my shoulders and panted in rhythm to my thrusts. My cock was making a slicking sound in her pussy and her ass was getting wet with her juice as my nuts slapped against it.

The headboard was banging against the wall so hard that flakes of white paint were falling off the ceiling above it. Mom reached up and wrapped her arms around my slippery back, hugging me tight, gasping. “Oh, yeah, fuck me, Teddy! Don’t stop!” she yelled.

I hammered her as hard as I could while making sure my cock didn’t accidentally slip out. Mom dug her nails into my shoulders and locked her calves around my lower back. She screamed my name and I felt my balls tighten.
“Oh god! You’re going to make me cummmm!” She said, panting and gasping, trying to suck in air. “I’M CUMMING!!”
Mom’s body started to tremble and shiver, her legs kicked, her eyes were wide open. She took great gulps of air. Her body was writhing and contorting and twisting underneath me.

“Me, too!” I grunted.

“FUCK ME, TEDDY! DON’T STOP! DON’T STOP! I’M CUMING!”

Mom arched her back up, threw her head back, and gasped out her orgasm, her mouth wide open in a silent scream.
“AHH FUCK! ME TOO!” I groaned.

Three strokes, two strokes, one last furious thrust. My rumbling balls slammed loudly against her ass. I looked down at the action. Her beaver was matted with sweat.

“Wait, Teddy, pull out!” she said, between gasps. “Don’t cum in me! I could get pregnant.”

A jolt of electricity ran up my cock to my brain. With a strangled groan, I pulled out and pitched forward slightly, my left hand supporting me on the headboard. I angled my dick up and watched as a stream of thick white cum geysered onto Mom’s stomach. Then, as another two full cords sailed all the way up and splattered onto her heaving rack. They landed in skewed white lines over her jugs like the icing on a pair of oversized cupcakes. My body was shaking and guttural groans reverberated up my throat. My lungs shriveled like burst balloons, but I continued to cum. I managed to give my cock a few pumps with my right hand and watched as another few lines squirted onto Mom’s thigh.

As the intensity of my orgasm began to fade, I looked down at Mom’s face. She was still in the midst of her orgasm, with her head back, her eyes closed and her legs parted. My cum was smeared all over her tummy, globs of jism wobbling like pearl-colored jelly on her belly button.

I dropped my mouth to hers and she kissed me hungrily. Then I collapsed on top of her, exhausted, cum still dripping from the top of my dick. We were dripping in sweat, our skin hot and slicked together, our chests heaving for air. Mom sighed and I felt the tension leave her muscles as the crackling electricity of her orgasm faded away.

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Thanks for reading. These are chapters 1-5 of Book 1 of a 4 Book series. If you’d like to access my complete works, visit my profile page for more information. You can also connect with me to provide advice, story ideas and general feedback. And please don’t forget to vote and /or comment. Its the richest form of gratitude an indie author can receive.

C.R.R. Crawford

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