Incestuous Tales of the Quarantine 9 Mommy Craves Her Hung Son
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Incestuous Tales Of The QuarantineStory 9: Mommy Craves Her Hung Son free porn video
It was three weeks into quarantine when I walked into my son’s room and everything change
“Hey,” I said brightly as I opened the door. It was the middle of the day and I needed Kevin to help me out with a chore. “I need...”
“Mom!” he gasped as he shuddered, lying naked in the middle of his bed, his hand pumping up and down his penis.
His semen fired from his penis.
I watched the stream of white firing up into the air as he bucked, his face twisted in pleasure and panic. He dropped his phone he held in his left hand on his chest, the seed he fired raining down as he struggled to grab a pillow to cover himself.
It was then I saw the size of his ... his ... cock.
My son had a cock. At sixteen, he had a big, throbbing, and mighty cock that spurted more ... cum. My son was cumming. I was watching the end of his masturbation, unable to look away from the muscular, young man as he groaned, his dick spurting a final blast just as he managed to cover himself with a pillow.
“Mom!” he gasped.
The shock struck me. The embarrassment. Just as I started yanking shut his door, I heard a woman moan from his phone, “Fuck your step-mother hard, son!”
I yanked the door closed and stumbled back, my entire body burning with embarrassment. I hit the wall behind me, panting. My large breasts rose and fell in the sports bra I wore beneath my sweatshirt. I shuddered, rubbing sweaty palms on my purple sweatpants.
The sight of my son’s cumming cock was burned into my mind. His right arm flexing as he pumped away. His handsome face twisting with pleasure. I shuddered as I sucked in deep breaths, struggling to regain control of my trembling body.
I pushed off the hall and stumbled out into the living room, my cheeks blazing. It wasn’t like I was ignorant of teenage boys. I knew he masturbated. I had seen the little evidence for a few years, but to walk in on him while he was doing it—in the middle of the day!—was something else entirely. When had my son grown up? Matured.
I fanned my face. He was endowed. I couldn’t get his dick out of my mind. It had changed from a penis to a cock forever for me. He was a man now. No longer my little boy. I sank down on the couch and squeezed my thighs shut and...
I was wet.
I felt that itch in me. For the first time in over a month, I felt horny. Ever since the first stories about the virus being in the States started permeating the news—the panic buying of supplies, the frantic search to have all the toilet paper I could find—had driven out any thoughts of passion. Not that I had much in my life. I was a single mother. Guys usually had a panic look when they realized I was a mother of a teenage son and then there wouldn’t be another date.
I sucked in a breath, trying to banish this thought. His cock and what that woman moaned. Step-mother porn? Was that really a thing? I wasn’t someone who watched any porn. I bit my lip, my heart pounding away.
After maybe ten minutes of squirming, I forced myself to get about what I was up to. I moved the couch out from the wall by myself, shaking my head at all the trash that had accumulated beneath it. I picked up the loose change and found one of my hair brushes I thought I lost. That went in the garbage. I wasn’t using it after it had spent all that time under the couch.
I vacuumed.
As the machine whirled away and rattled as it picked up the detritus, my thoughts drifted. My son’s spurting cock filled my mind. That thick cum firing up into the air and landing on his muscular stomach played over and over again. My son was fit. Strong. I licked my lips.
“No, no, stop having thoughts about your son, woman,” I muttered to myself as the vacuum cleaner ran. “That’s disgusting.”
It was disgusting. Incest. Why would I have such perverted thoughts? Was it because I hadn’t been on a date in over a month?. And now with the quarantine, I couldn’t go on a date. I was working from home these days, making lesson plans for my grade school students and keeping up with their parents. When I wasn’t doing that, I was having online training sessions and Zoom meetings with my colleagues. I was still getting paid, which was nice, but I hated not having a social life.
There were just my son and the checkout person at the grocery store who stood behind the Plexiglas sneeze guard.
My son crept out of his room an hour later in jeans and a t-shirt. He looked embarrassed, staring away from me when he came out to the kitchen to get a drink. He was a tall boy, surpassing me a few years ago. He wore his brown hair shaved close on the side and buzzed short along the top. I wasn’t a fan, but it was growing out now. So while he looked a little shaggy, I thought he was more handsome.
I didn’t know what to say to him. It was like he wanted to pretend I hadn’t caught him. I should tell him it was natural, that I won’t just barge in like that, that I even understood why he was watching porn. Though why step-mother porn? He didn’t have a step-mother. He didn’t even know his father.
I didn’t even know who his father was. I was an ... adventurous girl in college.
Having a son forced me to have responsibilities.
“Listen,” I said, forcing myself to speak. I had responsibilities as a mother. “What happened today...”
“Just forget about it,” he said, squirming. He grabbed a bottle of sports drink and fled back to his room.
I sighed. Step-mom porn...
I got out my phone and started googling this. I had to understand what it was. I swallowed and found that it was popular. A subset of MILF porn. That made my jaw drop. My son could be looking at twenty-year-old girls with perfect bodies but instead was watching older women having sex with young men.
Cougars. MILFs. Step-moms. Hot wives. It was a whole new world of porn. The phrase “Mothers I’d Love to Fuck” stayed with me because it realized that I was a MILF. I was a mother. I stared down at my frumpy sweatshirt and sweatpants. Comfortable clothes to wear around the house. I bit my lip, this strange warmth burgeoning in me.
I had trouble sleeping that night. I was horny. Aching. I busted out my vibrator. My son’s spurting cock filled my mind as I worked the buzzing shaft of my toy in and out of my pussy. I arched my back and screamed out in orgasm in just a few minutes.
I collapsed into a daze. The next morning, I woke up to a vibrator with dead batteries.
As I got ready for the day, a Sunday, I found myself pulling on my gray yoga pants. I drew on the stretchy material over my thighs and up my rump. I felt it clinging to my panties. I drew on a tight tank top over my large breasts clad in a frilly bra. I shuddered at how tight the “casual” clothes fit around my body.
The sort of gym wear I would don when I used to go to the gym to meet guys. To look fit and hot. I swallowed and wondered why I was doing this. My heart pounded in my chest as I started making breakfast.
Kevin came in for breakfast as I was at the stove making omelets. Quarantine did let me cook so much more for my son. Make sure he was eating healthy food and not all that junk food. Was it my imagination, or did I feel his eyes on my ass?
I couldn’t help but bending over as I flipped the ham and cheese omelets over. My breasts rose and fell in my tank top, this excitement coursing through me. He sat down in a place where he could stare right at me.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, his eyes looking over my body.
“Morning, Kevin,” I said, turning to him and giving him a big, motherly smile. His eyes drifted down to my chest. To my breasts. This pleased warmth rippled through me and ended at my pussy. That itch grew in me.
I was flirting with my son. I was showing off for him. And he appreciated it.
His eyes were on me as I cooked. I had his undivided attention. It felt so good. Made me feel like a woman. I had been only a mom for over a month, scared by the media, nearly in a panic at times, but here, in quarantine, I was remembering other aspects of my life. My cunt clenched as the heat built and built in me.
My panties soaked up my excitement.
“So,” I said, “any big plans for hanging around the house.”
“No,” he said, squirming. “Just, you know, uh, hanging out.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Playing video games. Watching videos on your phone.”
He swallowed as I said that.
I smiled at him. “On YouTube, of course. What did you think I meant? That you’d be watching movies of MILFs.”
“What?” he gasped, swallowing.
“Kevin,” I purred, loving the way he blushed. He had the body of a man, but he hadn’t gained the confidence of one. I could feel that I had the power here. It made me feel even more womanly. “I know what you get up to in there. Even before yesterday.”
His cheeks burned.
“Nothing wrong with liking older women,” I told him as I scooped the omelets onto the plate. “Us MILFs need love, too.” It was such a bold thing to say, but I was feeling that saucy heat bubbling away in my cunt.
I was being such a naughty mommy, but I couldn’t help myself.
I brought the plates to the table and sat down as I stared at his blushing face. He took his plate and cut it into one of his two omelets. I only had one. Spinach and tomato. I hummed away as I ate, so aware of how my boobs jiggled in my tight top. They were an ample pair that thrust out over the table and attracted his attention.
He stared at them with hunger. He licked his lips, his eyes roaming all over my big breasts. My nipples throbbed and my pussy grew hotter and hotter. His attention was just something that I savored. I hummed as I ate.
He devoured his food the way only a sixteen-year-old boy could. The omelets vanished into his mouth before I had even finished half of mine. He gulped his breakfast down with orange juice then bolted from the table.
“Have homework to do!” he gasped.
“Liar,” I called after.
I heard his door slam shut. I stood up and padded after. I pressed my ear to Kevin’s door and heard his bed creaking. There was no video playing, but the rhythmic stroking of his hand on his cock echoed. I loved the sound. He pumped with a vigorous stroke.
He came far, far too fast. I had excited him.
He groaned through his clenched teeth. My mind burned with the memory of his cum firing up into the air. I smiled in delight, loving the sounds he made. The grunts and groans. The manly passion.
Yes, my son was into MILFs. And I was the only one around. I had my son’s attention all to myself.
I hummed as I headed back to the table and finished my omelet.
I found excuses to keep my son out of his bedroom all day long. I kept needing things from him. A jar of pickles was too tight, I needed him to relight the pilot light for the stove after I “accidentally” snuffed it out, and then I needed his strength to move the couch.
“I just want to vacuum behind it,” I said. “It gets so dirty.”
“Yeah,” he said.
I shuddered, watching his muscular body moving beneath his t-shirt. He grunted and dragged the right side of the couch out with ease. He got behind it, facing me, his biceps bulging, and shoved it forward.
I almost swooned with how gorgeous he was. Young men were so sexy. And my son was a hunky stud.
“There you go, Mom,” he said. Then he glanced down. “Huh, not as dirty as I thought.”
“Oh, well, I do keep a clean house,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t realize I had already vacuumed here yesterday. But he bought my excuse.
He stuck around as I vacuumed, standing behind me. I made sure to reach with it, bending over to push the vacuum cleaner farther, instead of walking with it. My pussy clenched as I ran the machine over the same patch of carpet.
It was so hot having his eyes on me.
Then I got to stare at his ass through his jeans as he pushed the couch back into place. I bit my lip, my pussy on fire. This dangerous heat was building and building in me. I was like my old self. That boy-mad slut who had let the entire frat gangbang her. That had been a hot night. All those strong, young men fucking me.
“There you are, Mom,” he said, grinning at me.
“Mmm, thank you,” I said and gave him a hug.
I pressed my big boobs into his chest and kissed him on the cheek. I lingered with my lips a heartbeat longer than a mother should while his strong arms slid slowly around me. His hands rested on the small of my back. Would he be daring?
“Well, I, uh, have to go do homework,” he said and darted for his bedroom.
Kevin lasted longer this time as he masturbated again. My own horniness was building and building as I listened to him stroking his cock, playing out his own MILF scenarios, but I knew I stared in them. He was having mommy fantasies.
Incestuous fantasies.
And so was I.
I was consumed with them as I cooked dinner, stewing in my own excitement. My panties soaked up my juices, growing so drenched with my passion. It was incredible. I felt so naughty. I wiggled my hips, my cunt blazing with such heat.
This new lust in me gave me such an exciting and exhilarating burst of energy. I shuddered, wiggling my hips back and forth as I soaked my panties with my desire. I chopped vegetables, breaded chicken, and tossed a salad. I was so excited as naughty ideas about tonight boiled through my mind.
At dinner I once again, I had my son’s undivided attention. Those MILFs on his phone were fine, but he had the real thing live in his apartment. Not a step-mom but a real one. I smiled at him all through dinner, glad I didn’t have to battle with his phone for attention.
Having a man shower me with his gaze was amazing, but when he was my sexy son...
I was such a naughty mother.
Unsurprising, he had to do his “homework” after dinner. I let him go while I did the dishes. I had my plan for the night set in motion. I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie when I finished with the dishes. He was all for it. I let him pick.
I headed into my room and pulled off all my clothes. I stripped naked. My black hair fell down to my shoulders, my big boobs swaying. They were plump and heavy. I squeezed them, digging my fingers into my flesh while my pussy dripped. I could smell my tangy juices. I breathed them in.
What a wonderful scent.
I drew on a negligee over my naked body. A lilac delight. The fabric clung to my breasts, hanging from them with no straps. I tugged them down until my nipples were just about to pop out. The rest of the nightie fell down to just below my thighs, the silk sheer when it touched my skin.
I didn’t bother with the panties.
I came out as my son was scrolling through Netflix. He looked up at me and froze. He swallowed as he saw me in my nightie. I smiled at him like this wasn’t anything weird and flounced out to the couch, my big boobs threatening to pop out.
He swallowed and croaked something as I plopped down beside him on the couch. Not sitting at the other end where I usually would be, but right there next to him. He stared at my jiggling boobs, his cheeks red. He had changed into flannel pajama pants and a white wife beater that clung to his body. Instantly, his hardon tented his bottoms.
“Uh ... Mom?”
“Yes, Kevin?” I asked. “Have you chosen what you’d like to watch?”
“Well ... I...” He stared at me, salivating. He swallowed. His dick throbbed in his pajama bottoms. His hands balled into fists. He looked bewildered, his eyes flicking down at my tits then away. He squirmed on the couch.
“You okay?” I asked him, putting my hand on his cheek. “You feel flushed. Hot.”
“I’m fine,” he gulped out. “I’m just ... I’m tired.”
He bolted to his feet and faked a yawn. “Yeah, I should go to bed.”
Masturbating a fourth time to me? Boy, he did have stamina. It was flattering and annoying. But then an idea popped into my mind. I stood up and threw my arms around him. I gave him a tight hug, with only the thinnest layers of clothes between us. My hard nipples throbbed. My pussy clenched.
I kissed him on the cheek. “Good night.”
I ground against his hardon. I loved how huge he was. He might have the biggest cock I had ever seen. I wanted it. I didn’t care if he was my son. We were trapped in our two-bedroom apartment together. He was so sexy. So hot. Didn’t he deserve to have a hot MILF like me to take care of his stress?
His own mommy to take care of him in every way possible.
He squirmed and broke the hug. “Night, Mom!”
He fled the living room and down the hallway. His door opened. Shut. I shuddered, my nipples hard and throbbing. I knew just what to do. How bold I had to be. My son needed his mother to be in charge. To show him how to please those MILFs he was lusting for.
My pussy soaked my bush with my excitement as I sauntered after him.
I reached his door, listening for that familiar squeak of the bed. He was stroking his cock with enthusiasm. I licked my lips, so ready to pounce on him. A cougar-mommy lusting to feast upon her sexy son. My pussy clenched, the heat bubbling through me.
He groaned.
I threw open the door.
“Mom!” he gasped, struggling to thrust his cock back into his flannel bottoms. But that big schlong wasn’t cooperating. His naked chest—he had pulled off the wife beater—rose and fell in his panic.
“Mmm, you don’t have to do that,” I cooed, sauntering to him. My big breasts swayed beneath the fabric, my nipples poking at it. He swallowed at the sight of me. “I’m here to take care of you. I didn’t realize that you liked MILFs. If you wanted a MILF, I was just down the hall.”
“M-Mom?” he croaked.
I reached his bed and crawled onto it, my tits dandling in the nightie. The cloth swayed beneath me while feeling cool as it draped over my back and ass. I moved between his legs. His chest rose and fell as I stared down at his cock.
“Mmm, you just wanted a naughty mommy to suck your dick, didn’t you?” I purred. “That’s why you’ve been watching all that MILF porn, haven’t you?”
He stared at me with such shock on his face. It was so cute to witness.
“Mmm, I know,” I cooed. “Your mommy understands what a young man needs.” I grabbed his cock at the base beneath his own hand. He was so warm and hot. “Now just let go and your mommy will take care of you.”
“This ... I...” He released his cock, his blue eyes staring at me with a mix of shock and lust.
I smiled at him. “Relax, relax. Your mommy knows how to suck your cock. Mmm, just be a good boy and enjoy.”
I ducked my head down, my black hair spilling around my burning cheeks. Then I gobbled his cock. I sucked him into my mouth, my pussy clenching. The heat rushed through my body. This was so naughty. I crossed the line into incest.
I nursed on his cock.
I suckled on my son’s big dick. The salty flavor of his precum flowed across my taste buds. It was a delight that I savored. My boobs swayed as I blew him. I slid my lips up and down his cock, determined to give him the best blowjob he’d ever experienced.
To show him why he only needed his mommy.
Just like I only needed Kevin. I didn’t need other men. I had been raising my man and had never noticed it. My strong, young man to please me and love me. My naughty pussy clenched again, eager to feel my son sliding back into me.
I knew it would be amazing. Magical. I bobbed my head, my black hair shifting, as I anticipated that wonderful moment of Kevin sliding into my pussy, his long cock nudging into my cervix. His cum would fire into my womb. I could still have children.
My son’s baby. Maybe a daughter to love him when she was old enough who could have her own son to love her. On and on and on. A chain of incestuous love. My cunt melted beneath such depraved thoughts.
I sucked harder on my son’s cock.
“Oh, my god, Mom,” Kevin groaned. His head shifted on his pillow. His strong chest rose and fell, the muscles playing across his pecs. I stroked my left hand over his rippling abs. God, he was such a hunk. “Oh, damn, Mom.”
I winked at him and kept sucking. I blew him with hunger, bobbing my head. He groaned again, panting. I loved it. This was incredible to witness. To enjoy. I gave my son all the pleasure I could. I sucked on him. Slurped on him. I worshiped him with passion. Hunger. I wanted to swallow his cum.
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