Tommy and His Mommy
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Tommy And His Mommy free porn video
100% fiction!
Mom’s a dream, a real treasure. I’d gotten in a day earlier than expected and she was out. I’d driven through the night and wanted to get a little exercise in; I was stiff from the drive. Thought I’d swim a few laps then maybe take a nap. So I was in the pool when she got home. Of course she’d seen my vehicle in the drive, she knew I was there but still, I’m her only boy, I’d just gotten home from college for the summer; she was on the pool deck calling to me,
“Tommy, come here and give Mommy a daughter. She’d never thought about him in that way, it was always that she’d helped him in his need; for the first time in her life she hated him, the bastard, she thought, it had come to her, he didn’t love her, she wasn’t her Mam’s surrogate, she was an available sperm repository with no risk of pregnancy, not the way he had her, no risk. God, she’d piss on his grave when she got the chance.
Still, there was tonight to deal with, she didn’t know. Her knees felt weak, she sat, on the green grass she sat; she could hardly catch her breath. Between her stark realizations of what a miserable prick her father really had been and her promise to her son for later tonight, she collapsed, exhausted, not from labor but from stress.
Tommy had followed her, he gave her space, it was evident she had some demons to fence with but he wanted to be there for her if she needed him. He’d watched as she writhed; he was reminded of “The Exorcist” then he watched as she sat, bottom on the glen and back against a big oak tree. She whimpered, he could barely hear her muted words.
She spoke the words aloud “The bastard, the miserable bastard, these years oh these many years I’ve lived thinking I was his savior, that he needed me. His Irish blarney, screw that, his bull shit, he got me, he got his daughter, God may he burn in Hell”
Ellen sat against the tree trunk and sobbed, she realized the “Big Secret” that she’d lived with for thirty-six years was a lie and she, Ellen O’Riley, oh hell, Ellen Callahan had been the victim of a joke, his joke on her. She was forty-eight years old, she’d kept her little secret for all of those thirty-six years and now, a middle aged woman was sitting against a tree trunk in the middle of the North Georgia woods and she could only cry, cry for what might have been, cry for what never was, she sobbed.
Tommy couldn’t endure watching her pain, he wanted give a chance to fight her demon but, he could see, she was losing, he didn’t think of himself as her savior, her Saint George; he couldn’t slay her dragon, she’d have to do that herself, all he could do was try to give her a safe haven.
Ellen was startled, she hadn’t heard him; Tommy sat beside her against the trunk of the oak.
“Mommy, I’m here for you, I told you that before, I’m saying it again. You’re hurting and I can see your pain. It’s not new pain; it’s not I something that I can help with is it?”
She nodded her head, no.
“Are you sure Mommy, are you sure?”
“I’ll do anything for you; I really mean that, anything at all.”
Ellen listened to her son, she believed him; anything she asked he’d try to deliver. Her request was simple.
“Tommy, please stay here, just stay here for a few minutes, maybe five or ten then come to the tent, I’ll want you there then, please, for me?”
It was a simple request, “Sure, Mommy I’ll wait.”
First she went to the clothes line, her sleeping bag was dry. She rolled up as though she was readying it for storage but she put on top of Tommy’s and lay across it. It would work, her bottom was high enough; then she went back to the storage tent, he hadn’t gotten the Vaseline out yet, she did.
She went back to their main tent and waited.
Tommy gave her plenty of time, time she really didn’t need; didn’t want, she was going to give herself to her son tonight, to her that was a foregone conclusion, and yet still she waited. Her tummy started to roil again; he hadn’t come. Her nerves were clutching at her bladder; still she waited and he didn’t come.
She couldn’t take it anymore, she’d either pee herself or she’s have to go back outside; he hadn’t come.
Her bladder was begging for relief, she couldn’t keep it in, finally she put on her sandals and, naked except for her shoes she walked into the brush.
Relief, oh sweet relief she thought as her flow started. She hadn’t heard him, she hadn’t sensed his presence, from behind he cupped her crotch, she was flowing over his hand. She nearly fainted, she did fall backward he’d startled her so.
“Don’t stop Mommy, don’t stop,” Tommy said as he held her.
She really couldn’t have stopped even had she wanted to. Her bladder was full, she had to go; Tommy held her letting her flow over his hand.
When she was finally drained she asked him, “Tommy what are you doing, where did you come from and why did you do what you did?”
“Mommy, I followed you, when you went to the trench, when you damned your Da to hell for what he’d done to you when you were a little girl and then, when you collapsed at that tree trunk. I saw when you prepared our tent and finally when you came out here. Can you forgive me; I wanted to feel your heat.”
Perhaps for the first time it hit her it really hit her, of course Tommy was her son, he loved her because she was his Mommy, she’d been there for him for twenty-three years; all of his life, she’d fed him the colostrum from her breasts then her milk, she’d changed his diapers, she’d fixed his lunches and sent him to school and she’d given him her love, the unequivocal love that only a mother can bestow.
She was still squatting, she’d not put any clothes on, she was nude and Tommy hugged her, his hand was still wet, she realized where that dampness came from and she didn’t care, he was holding her, in the wilderness, she was squatting, still poised to drain her body, he still held her “down there,” his moist hand began to massage her.
“Will you come with me to the tent Mommy, he asked.
She melted; she fell back against him, “Tommy, help me, take me to the tent,” she pleaded.
He did, he circled her waist and helped her walk. Once over the threshold he
helped her to lie down. Tommy knew why she’d put the rolled sleeping bag atop
his but that wasn’t
how he used it. He sat her back against it, letting her sit up and he talked to
her.
“Mommy, I’m here for you, I told you that; first you are my Mommy but beautiful lady you’re my lover. I told you I’d do anything for you; I meant exactly that; if Ellen Callahan my mother or if the soft sweet woman I’ve come to know and take immense pleasure from calls on me, I stand ready to defend.
“Tommy you really mean it don’t you, you’d go to the wall for me, wouldn’t you?”
“Mommy I’d wrestle a grizzly if it would protect you, you’re not just my Mommy, you’re my love, my lover.”
He means it, he really means it she thought, if she’d had panties on she’d have soaked them, as it was her juice streamed down the inside of her thighs.
“Tommy, take me now please, take me as your lover; tomorrow I’ll be your Mommy but tonight, make love to me, the way I want you, please.”
Ellen rolled to her stomach and crawled over the rolled up sleeping bag, her bottom was elevated, awaiting penetration, penetration she’d not endured for over thirty years. She plucked up the small jar of Vaseline and handed it back to Tommy.
He lubricated her, the greasy lube that she remembered but it was different, this was Tommy, she felt him as he guided his cock to her hungering opening, she relaxed and he thrust in.
Ellen moaned when he pierced her, there was some pain but it was endurable; she wanted him in her and he was. Slowly Tommy edged forward sliding deeper, her heat was unimaginable, he probed further, filling her guts; he was all the way in.
He paused, surveying her, her broad bottom spread before him, filled by him. He leaned forward and kissed her back saying,
“My beautiful Mommy,” he caressed her sides.
Ellen realized, I am beautiful, in Tommy’s eyes I am beautiful; not a forty-eight year old overweight woman with sagging breasts but a beautiful woman with her young lover. Her heart swelled, filled with love for him; she smiled and sighed contentedly.
His strokes were smooth; now he held her hips, massaging her as he filled her, long deep strokes. Below him Ellen shivered, he was exciting her. She whispered,
“A little harder son, a little faster, please?”
Tommy mounted her, letting her feel his weight, he plunged into her depths, plugging her, then out, emptying her then back up into her rectum then out, all the way out, then back, puncturing her anus and up into her bowels then back; fast driving strokes.
Ellen moaned but she was getting what she wanted; a reaming, a ramming, he was impaling her on his virile young cock
Tommy’s hips were slamming her bottom; the sound was audible, slap, slap, slap; he couldn’t maintain this pace long but that was alright, he was fucking his Mommy.
Ellen felt him swelling, knowing that he was ready to fill her; she began to tremble. His onslaught continued and she came, with a loud wail her orgasm ripped through her,
“Oooh Tommmmy, oooh Tommmmy…”
And Tommy blasted; his cum spewed forth, scalding cum gushed into her, pulse after pulse as he continued to pump, then more slowly and slower still until he was drained.
Ellen lay limp over the sleeping bag, Tommy rested on her back until his flaccid penis fell out.
He dismounted and knelt at her side then helped her to lie with him.
Quietly, he embraced her; they lay for long minutes without speaking, eventually Ellen broke the silence,
“Tommy take me home tomorrow, please, we can fish for our breakfast and swim but tomorrow afternoon I want to go home.”
Tommy was afraid that he’d angered her, offended her. He started,
“Mommy, I’m sorr…”
She interrupted, “No, no son, it’s nothing you’ve done; it’s something I have to do.”
They slept arm in arm.
Early next morning they got their rods and went to the pool. Each got a nice trout; Tommy dressed them and fried them up.
After breakfast they swam for two hours then got out and lay on the blanket.
After lunching they started to break camp; by two they were ready for the hike out and by five the Cherokee was packed and they were on their way.
“Tommy I want to make one stop before we go home, ok?”
“Sure Mommy.”
Near their home was a little Irish pub, she directed him to it.
They took a table and she ordered,
“Two shots of John Jameson’s best and Guinness Stout chasers, if you please, and bring the tab with you we’re only going to have the one.”
When the barmaid returned she paid and tipped her. Once she’d gone Ellen lifted the shot, Tommy did the same.
“A toast,” she said as they clinked glasses, “To Liam Patrick O’Riley, may you burn in Hell.”
She downed the whiskey in a single gulp and followed it with the Stout, “I’m ready to go home now.”
In the driveway she said, “Let’s leave the unpacking until tomorrow.”
Once inside she suggested that they both shower, she’d meet him in the living room later.
When Ellen came out she was wearing an old flannel night gown, worn and dated, it came to her feet, a style of nearly forty years distant.
Tommy was lounging on the sofa; he was wearing only his robe. She took his hand saying,
“Come with me Tommy.”
She led him to her bedroom. On the night stand was a jar of Vaseline, she handed it to him and bent over the bed.
“Flip up my nightie Tommy,” she asked in a voice husky and low.
He raised her gown over her hips, displaying her. He parted her cheeks and lubricated her then stepped up and pierced her.
Ellen’s mind was reliving her nightmarish past but now, her private dragon was being slain, done away with on the blade of her son’s sword.
Haven
- 13.10.2023
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- Incest
