I think I am committed to finishing this story, so here comes the next part. This section is light on the horror aspect but is focused on the relationship part and the setup for action later.
As always, I do read and appreciate all comments, though I don’t necessarily have time to respond.
Enjoy!
Clementina
Part III
I didn’t even bother pulling my pajama bottoms on, I just crawled into bed naked, turned out the light, and waited for my mother to come storming in after me, demanding what was going on. And I was ready to give her the unadulterated truth. It was one thing for her to play the little sexy show-off games she liked to play with people (like my friends). That was harmless, silly, and flirty. Blackmail was a different story.
But on the other hand, that was me speaking as a guy. Overwhelmingly, sexual blackmail was usually a man taking advantage of a woman. Guys were supposed to be immune to that sort of thing, right? It shouldn’t bother me, right? Especially when you consider that Clementina was extremely desirable.
Part of me that wanted to go back into Clementina’s room and rage fuck her in whatever hole I wanted. But I guess I wasn’t much of a real man, because there was also a part of me who wanted to die.
I ended up curled up in a fetal position under the covers, going back and forth between rage and sorrow.
Somehow I managed to fall asleep. In my frustration I forgot to set the alarm. So when my mother ambled out of bed at around 7:30 the next morning, I was still asleep.
I pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and made my way downstairs, looking to fill a travel mug with coffee and bolt for Home Depot, but my mother stopped me in the kitchen. Clementina was still asleep.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” my mother asked.
I was already irritated, so I played stupid. “I went over to her house, I was looking at her pipes and one broke when I was inspecting the damage. It’s like I said.”
“No,” she said. “I mean after I went to bed.”
“Sure, as soon as you answer my question.”
“What question was that?”
“Did you talk to Clementina between the call when she asked you to send me over, and the call when she asked to spend the night?”
“I already told you no, I didn’t,” she said. I could tell she was annoyed a little, but it seemed like her questioning came more from a curiosity side than an anger side.
“Truthfully?” I said.
“Why would I lie? And I really don’t care if you want to sleep with Clementina, that’s your business. But please don’t piss her off, okay?”
“My business? Or your business?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“Do you want me to sleep with her, to keep her happy?”
“What? Sleep with her to keep her happy? Wait, is she forcing you to sleep with her?”
I looked at the floor. My mom came forward and hugged me. I didn’t cry, but I felt a lot of emotions.
“Tell me,” she said. So I did. I skipped the part about feeling like something was squirming inside of Clementina and the part about the breast milk, but I didn’t hold back about how I felt looking at my mom while Clementina sucked my cock. My mom and I had always been pretty frank, so once I started talking it all came out.
“So that’s the whole story,” I said, when I had finished. “And if the difference between keeping the house and losing it is me fucking her occasionally, I guess I am okay with it. I mean, I was masturbating over her last night before it got out of hand. I just want you to know she’s doing it. Doing it in secret makes me feel like shit.”
“Thanks, Russel,” she said, and hugged me. “We’ll get through this. I’m not sure how, but we will.”
She gave me another hug, a very long one. She and I had always shared hugs, but there was something different about it. She held me longer. She held me closer. She pressed herself against me.
When we separated our eyes met. She bit her lip as if she wanted to say something. It was my turn to prompt.
“Out with it,” I said.
“I never thought you felt that way about me,” she replied. “I never knew you noticed me being attractive. You always kept me at arm’s length.”
“You were my mother. I never even allowed myself to think of you sexually.”
She nodded.
“I have done the same as I watched you grow into a nice-looking young man. Has that changed?” she asked.
“I don’t know. So much is going on right now it’s hard to sort things out, but maybe. Do you want it to change?”
“This is happening fast.” she said.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She looked at me hard. “Maybe,” she said and leaned forward to gave me another hug. When she stepped back I found myself looking over her again, in a new way. Her toned body, her breasts under the cut off T-shirt, the yoga shorts clinging to her hips. I felt a stirring. When I looked up I found that her eyes were focused on the unexpected bulge in my shorts.
Our eyes met, we both blushed.
“Maybe,” my mother said again, then smiled, and added “You should go now.”
I smiled back and our eyes held each other’s for just a second longer. Then I grabbed some joe and bolted to the hardware store before Clementina got up and discovered I hadn’t gotten started yet.
The cellar floor had mostly dried from the previous night’s disaster. I surveyed the wreckage. It could have been a lot worse. I drained the system and cut out the damaged copper. As I worked, I had time to think, and as I did so I felt better about the situation. Look on the bright side, for the foreseeable future I had a regular fuck with a hot fortysomething brunette carrying a killer mom bod. How bad could it really be?
I also felt better about having come clean about my thoughts and feelings when Clementina was giving me a blow job next to my mom’s sleeping body. I didn’t know what was going to come of that but at least it was out in the open.
I was intensely curious what that “maybe” from my mother might lead to. My curiosity was piqued even more when I got a text from her about an hour into the plumbing work. It was a picture of her smiling, still wearing the cut off T-shirt she had slept in, but it was pulled up to bare a breast with her
hand was covering her nipple. The text was just one word.
“Maybe.”
The bulge in my shorts returned. I held the camera up and took a shot from above, capturing my smiling face and the tent in my shorts.
“Possibly,” I texted back with the photo.
I got a smiley face and a heart in return.
After prepping the plumbing for the patch, I wanted to let the pipes dry a little, so I wandered back upstairs to the main floor of the house. A few peeks out the windows showed that there was nobody around. It was the perfect time for a little bit of snooping. I figured if Clementina was going to blackmail me for sex, I was going to see if I couldn’t come up with some dirt on her. A tit for a tat. I might still fuck her just for fun, but having something in my back pocket would make me feel a lot better.
The kitchen was uninteresting, as was the sitting room. The bathroom looked as it had when I had last seen it peeking through the hole in the wall the previous night. Clementina had pretty much left everything as it was when she and I went to my house. The medicine cabinet was uninteresting, not even an interesting prescription. I peered in the tub, expecting to see a sex toy, but was disappointed. I wondered where she had stashed it, then remembered feeling something squirm inside her. Guess that answered that question.
There was one unusual thing about the tub, however. In her haste to head out with me, Clementina hadn’t washed the suds down, and now the dried bath oil residue still clung to the porcelain. But in the bottom of the tub there was a coating of some kind of a clear gelatinous substance. I ran my finger through it then lifted it to my nose. It didn’t have the sort of perfumed fragrance bath oil would have, it was a much more earthy smell.
It was unusual, but it wasn’t anything that could be used for blackmail. Maybe it was some kind of lube. I shrugged, wiped my finger on my pants and headed upstairs.
My next target was her office. It was in one of the old bedrooms, and was pretty sparse, just a desk and a table with a laptop hooked up to a monitor. I started up the laptop, but couldn’t figure out her password readily, so I quit after a couple of tries. I opened the desk drawers, finding mostly old bills, deeds, useless junk. I found a couple of old photo albums full of pictures of people I didn’t know – but nothing incriminating.
I walked across the hall to her bedroom, which was also pretty simple, just a chest, a bureau, a small closet, and a queen size bed. She had some sexy lingerie. I thought about rubbing out a load into her underwear draw but decided not to, since it would probably only encourage her. The nightstand held a couple of erotic novels and two different models of vibrator (among other things), but nothing too outlandish – or so I thought. Hidden underneath everything else, however, was a large key.
The key was ornate and looked like it had to be at least a hundred years old. It was about nine or ten inches long and had scroll work carved into the shaft. It was a simple enough shape, one I could duplicate back home in my basement workshop if I had a need to do so.
I took it to the office and took some photos of it next to a ruler so I had the right measurements. I wasn’t sure why, and I doubted I would really have a need for it. But if I ever happened to find the lock it fit, it might provide me some of that blackmail material I had been hoping for.
When I was done, I returned it to her drawer as another text came in from my mother. It was a picture of her standing in the bathroom. Her top was off, her breasts free, the nipples hard, pointed, looking so tasty.
“Definitely maybe…”
I took another tented shorts shot to send to her, this time I had my other hand on my bulging erection.
For the moment, my thoughts about Clementina were pushed aside in favor of thoughts about my mother. Where was this going? Was this something I should do? And if this was going where it seemed to be, did I have the stamina to keep both my mother and Clementina happy?
So many questions. My mind spun. The best way to fix that was to get to work.
I went back down to the cellar and tackled the pipes. I had done a lot of damage when I fell, and I had to make another trip to Home Depot for supplies before the job was done. Not long after my fishing expedition through her private possessions, Clementina arrived home. I could hear her upstairs moving around.
It was late afternoon before I finally flipped the water back on. I crawled through the crawlspaces to the different chambers of the cellar checking all the pipes to make sure there were no issues. In the farthest, most remote chamber of the cellar, there was a very slow leak. It was barely a drip. It would require another pipe replacement at some point, but it was slow enough now that I could do a temporary fix for the time being and do the full replacement later on. Above all else, I wanted Clementina out of my house, and that meant getting the water back on.
The main cut off was in one chamber, and my tools were in another, so it was several minutes of crawling around the crawlspaces before I made it back to the chamber with the leak. I had a fast-acting epoxy that I coated the leak with, let dry, and again had to crawl back to the main chamber, turn on the water, and then crawl back to where the leak was to check it out.
The pipes in Clementina’s house were loud. They creaked and groaned when I turned the water back on, and their complaints followed me as I made my way back to the leak. Good news, it was holding. My job was done.
I was tired, having been squirming around the crawlspaces of Clementina’s basement for over eight hours. My shoulders and back were sore, and I wasn’t looking forward to the long crawl back to the main entrance. I leaned back against the wall, glad to be done. I checked my phone, and to my surprise, discovered I still had two bars of signal, so I texted Clementina to let her know she had water, then I texted my mom to let her know I would be home shortly.
My mom sent me a smiley, a thumbs up, and a heart in response. Followed by a separate text with a boob shot and just two words. “Most likely”.
My heart made a tiny leap into my throat. Those thoughts I had when looking at my mother while Clementina was sucking my cock roared back. How would I feel if instead of Clementina wrapped around my knob, it had been my mother? My answer came from the stirring in my pants.
I let my mind wander for a moment, imagined my mother’s tight, firm body against mine, the taste of her skin, the smell of her body oils (and her sweat). I wondered what it felt like inside her.
I was almost to full attention. My cock was pressed against my tenting shorts. I realized I wanted my mother far more than I wanted Clementina. I thought of sliding my cock between my mother’s thighs as she clutched my shoulders.
My hand made it’s way down to the front of my shorts and I absently stroked. Then I stopped. The last time I had jerked off in Clementina’s basement had been a disaster, maybe I was being superstitious but I wasn’t going to take a chance.
I sat in the chamber for a few more minutes, letting my ardor cool some, just listening to the house around me, the creaking of the pipes, the occasional scuttling of a rodent around the basement.
Barely perceptible, I thought I heard a very, very distant woman’s voice.
I started. What the hell was that? The sound had come from a distance. Was it outside? Was it somewhere else in the house? I perked up my ears and strained to hear.
Again, very faintly, it came again. Across from the crawlspace was another very small crawlspace that led up to the edge of the foundation. The space was just a jumble of rocks with a couple of feet between the stones and the beams above. The sound seemed to be coming from the rock pile.
It came again. It wasn’t just a scream, there were words as well, but I couldn’t make them out..
I approached the rocks and leaned partially into the crawlspace and listened. Nothing. Standing near the foundation I heard a bird tweet outside and a truck’s horn sound out on the distant interstate. It had to have come from outside, right? That was the only logical explanation. Probably some kids playing in the neighborhood.
As I moved away from the rock pile, I accidentally kicked a stone, rolling it a few feet out into the chamber. Underneath the stone was a dead, dried up…something. It looked to be about a foot long and snake- or eel-like. It was dark gray, and desiccated, the skin just a leathered, tough sac with a few bones showing in relief.
What the fuck was that? Had it lived down here? Were there others?
I thought of the shape I had seen in the tub the night before. And of the feeling I had that there was something squirming inside of Clementina…
I brought myself up short. There were logical explanations that didn’t require me to go down that path of thought. So there was a dead snake (or something snake-like) in Clementina’s basement. With all the rodents running around down here, that wasn’t a surprise. The real surprise was that I hadn’t seen any down here before now.
I pushed the rock back over the snake-thing as the sound of Clementina’s voice echoed through the crawlspaces.
“Russel? Are you still down here?” she called.
“Yes, I’ll be out in a sec.”
I shot a final look at the pile of rocks, and made my way back to the entrance chamber, where Clementina was waiting. She was sitting at the foot of the stairs when I pulled my sweaty, muddy self from the crawlspace.
“Wow, you’re a mess,” she said, surveying me up and down. I wasn’t sure I liked the way she was looking at me, and I was definitely sure I didn’t want another fuck session with her right now. I needed to set some boundaries.
And, to be honest, I wanted to save my load for later…for my mom. The realization that was part of my thinking made my heart skip a beat, and my cock stir in my shorts.
“The water’s on,” I said, brushing some of the mud off legs and arms. “There is still a tiny leak back in the farthest chamber that will need to be replaced eventually, but there is no rush. I did a quick patch that should keep it under control for now. We can schedule something some time before my classes start for me to come back down here and fix it.”
“Great,” she said. “So my plumbing is in good shape.”
Gawd, not this again.
“Everything is fine,” I said. “You should be good to sleep in your own bed tonight. I need to go home, clean up, and take a nap. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” That last part I added a negative emphasis.
Like most old houses, the steps leading up out of the basement were narrow, and Clementina was sitting square in the middle. I tried to squeeze past her, but as I did, her arm shot out and she rested her hand against the inside of my thigh.
“You can clean up here,” she said. “And sleep is overrated.” She slipped her hand up my muddy leg, slid it up the leg of my shorts, and let it rest against my resurgent cock.
“Not tonight,” I said. “I will fuck you occasionally to keep our house, but I need some boundaries. And tonight I need to get some rest.”
She shrugged, I pushed past her up the stairs, and she followed. I headed straight for the front door, only pausing there for a moment, to add “I’ll text you later about setting up a time to fix that other pipe.”
She nodded.
I shivered as I walked up the driveway to home. The late afternoon was warm, but I was still chilled from the damp, dark basement where I had spent my day. It was good to be home.
I walked inside. My mother was in the kitchen. She looked like she had just gotten out of the shower. She had on a thin yellow tank top and a pair of close-fitting pedal pushers. Her hair was still wet and dribbled down on her shirt, creating small patches of translucent moisture across her chest. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric that clung to her curves, covering everything but hiding nothing. I realized how bad I wanted her.
“You’re back, and wow, you’re a muddy disaster,” she said, looking me up and down. “Is she all set?”
I nodded, then added “But she still has a slow leak and a section of pipe I am going to have to replace. I am going to text her later and set something up.”
“Did she try to hit on you again?”
“Yep, I told her I needed some boundaries. Once or twice a week was fine, but every night wasn’t going to fly.”
My mother nodded. “How did she take it?”
“Mostly well. I’m glad of that. I am sore as fuck after crawling around her basement all day. I’m not sure I’m up for a high-expectation fuck right now. I just need a hot shower.”
“What about a massage and a no-expectation fuck?” my mom asked.
She met my eyes, then looked away, nervously.
“That would be incredible,” I said. I wanted to take her in my arms – or at least kiss her. But she was clean, and I was muddy, so I would have to wait. I scurried upstairs and headed straight to the shower. Peeling off my muddy clothes, I climbed into the steaming stall and let the heat loosen up my aching back and shoulders. When I finally felt like I could move again, I washed up.
By then I had a raging erection thinking about my mother, and would have loved to send a load down the shower drain. But I wanted even more to send a load into my mom. I contained myself.
Once clean, I climbed out of the shower, dried off, and wrapped up in a towel. When I emerged from the bathroom, I found my mother standing in the hallway.
She took my hand and led me to her bedroom.
She had set up several candles around the room, and the blankets had been pulled down to the bare sheet. A bottle of massage oil sat on the nightstand, next to a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. She handed one to me.
“Here’s to a new phase of our relationship,” she said, tapping my glass. I sipped gingerly, knowing the wine would go straight to my head on my empty stomach. We chatted for a few moments, as we drank the wine. It was very strange, flirting with my mother like that. After a moment, she took my glass and set it aside, then held her hand out for my towel.
I had managed to bring my erection under control, and it hadn’t been too obvious when we were flirting, but as I let her pull the towel from my body, my cock popped out, ready for action. My mom pretended she hadn’t noticed and just gestured to the bed.
I lay down on my side on the bed, waiting for my cock to shrink enough that I could lay down on my stomach comfortably. My mother didn’t help. She put her glass down besides mine, and pulled off her tank top.
Her breasts swung free. She wasn’t huge like Clementina, but she wasn’t exactly small either. They hung firm but soft above her firm, toned stomach. Her high nipples pointed upwards, hard and erect. She tossed her top to the side, and pushed her pedal pushers to the floor, leaving her only in her tiny, damp thong. Her labia pressed against the thin, moist fabric.
I thought of all the times I had seen her tease guys. For all that teasing, I was the one who was actually getting ready to smell, touch, taste her body. I was dying to be inside of her.
She reached for the massage oil. She dribbled some of the oil on her breasts, and as I watched she rubbed her hands over them, caressing them, pinching the nipples, running her fingertips across the brown aureoles. I glanced back up at her face and realized she was watching me watch her – that made me even harder. She smiled and I smiled back.
She pushed her thong off and let it drop to the floor, running her oiled hands down between her legs, letting the oil mix with her fluids. God, I wanted her – and the look in her eyes was pure desire.
“If I’m going to massage your shoulders, you’re going to have to lay down on your stomach,” she said, giggling, staring at my cock. I very gently tucked my erection underneath me and slowly slid myself down onto the bed on my stomach, shifting to make sure I didn’t injure myself. Once I had stopped shifting around, my mother climbed on top of me and straddled my hips. I could feel her vagina lips pressed against my body, her grool trickling across my skin.
She began working her oiled hands across my shoulders and my back, squeezing my neck. She started softly, but slowly began working more and more aggressively. She had given me massages a few times in the past, but we had been fully clothed and I was sitting in a chair – definitely not like this. Occasionally I would feel her breasts brush against my skin. The steady trickle of fluid from between her thighs continued, mixing with the oil when she moved lower to work on my lower back and buttocks.
She straddled my lower legs and ran her hands across my ass, spreading, teasing. She slipped a hand between my legs, brushing against my balls and the underside of my cock. It was the first time since I was a baby that my mother had touched my cock and it felt both weird and wonderful. Feelings surged through me – love, desire, pure lust. I moaned again as she flicked her fingertips across the underside of the tip, then gently nudged my thighs apart, leaned down, and licked my balls and cock.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I rolled over and met her eyes. She smiled. My cock stood at attention between us.
She ran her tongue down the underside of my cock, teasing, tasting, then running it back up, squeezing out the pre-come and sucking it from the tip. I was fully erect, the purple veins standing out along the shaft, the tip gaping as more pre-come dribbled free and slipped down the side. She licked it up, then took the entire shaft in her mouth, sliding her lips halfway down my throbbing erection. I groaned, feeling her breasts brush against my thigh as she took me deeper and deeper down her throat.
She pulled back, then went down again, and again. Her blonde hair brushed my thighs and stomach as she slipped my cock in and out of her throat. Slivers of saliva glistened on the shaft when she pulled out, a long streamer dribbling across her breasts. She took my cock in her hands, sliding them up and down, using her own drool as a lubricant.
She slipped her body forward, hovering her breasts over my face – the breasts I had looked at all these years, never touching but always desiring. I reached up, cupped them gently, and pulled my face towards them, flicking my tongue across the nipples, tasting the faint aroma of her body lotion and a hint of perfume. Her nipples were tiny and hard, pulling the skin tight, making her already firm breasts even firmer and making the nipples stand more erect. I suckled, touching, tasting, loving.
I looked up and saw my mother looking down, watching me at her breast, smiling. Our eyes locked and I smiled back as she lifted her head, tossed her hair and closed her eyes, lost in the moment.
I lost track of how long I spent locked to her breast, but eventually she softly pushed my head back and slid her body forward. Now her slit was above my mouth. I looked up, past her shaved snatch and her breasts, and again, our eyes locked, and again that smile from my mother. I knew she wanted this as much – if not more – than I did. I ran my tongue up her tiny, tight little lobes, parting them gently with a finger so I could lick the tender insides. I lapped like a dog. Above me my mother closed her eyes, ran a hand through her hair and leaned back, pressing her slit even tighter against my chin. I locked my lips around her cute little clit and sucked, eliciting a moan. She called my name softly, then took my head in her hand and pulled it closer, tighter. I continued to work my tongue up and down, stopping to suck on her clit that was now sticking out from it’s little hood. I worked a finger – two fingers – inside her and found that special, magic spot.
A moment later I was engulfed in her orgasm. She leaned back and lay with her back on my stomach, her pussy still just past my chin, her arm against my cock.
She lay there pulsating for a moment, then gathered her wits and climbed to her knees. She positioned her vagina directly next to my cock, her shaved pussy pressed against it. She looked down and our eyes met. I felt the juices from her body slide down across my balls.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked.
“All these years, I’ve been watching you grow from a boy to a man,” she said. “Watching you mature, seeing you fill out. All the while being ignored by a husband who was more interested in a job than me. Ever since you hit puberty, you’ve been in my fantasy life. I never could tell anyone, but there it is. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years, never thinking it would actually happen. You were a good son but never seemed to notice me as a woman – just like your father. But now, now it’s actually happening and I just want to savor it a moment longer before I take you back inside me.”
I nodded and reached up to cup her breasts, pinching the nipples.
“My entire life,” I said, “I’ve been the guy with the hot mom. I’ve had to deal with teasing, and sometimes outright bullying because of it. Ever since I was old enough to notice, I’ve wanted you, but I’ve also kept those thoughts away – partly because I thought it was wrong, and partly because I didn’t want to be hurt if some other guy – one of my friends who you like to tease – actually scored on you. I was afraid of that heartache, so I never let those desires take hold.”
A tear appeared in the corner of her eye. “I never wanted to hurt you,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “But that hurt me less than watching my father ignore you all these years.”
The tear slid down her cheek and she leaned forward. We kissed, her body pressed against mine, her breasts against my chest, her legs squeezing my pulsating cock and pressing it against her damp slit.
Her tongue entered my mouth, intertwined with mine. Then I moaned as she pulled back, lifted her hips and slid herself slowly down my cock. I could feel her juices being pushed out around the shaft as she slipped ever downwards. Our eyes locked on each other as I felt every fraction of an inch until her hips rested on mine.
Forget all the abuse and the teasing I had endured over the years. I was the one who had my cock inside my hot mom. I win.
My cock surged and I thought I would explode. My mother rotated her hips and began to slowly ride my erection, up and down. It was my turn to groan as she tightened her muscle and squeezed. It took my breathe away. I ran my hands up her stomach, cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples. She put her hands on top of mine, then lifted them and kissed the tips.
Her motions became more urgent, more frantic, as she lowered my hands back to her breasts, and leaned forward a little, digging into her work. All those years working out paid off as she sped up, sliding across my cock faster and faster.
It was a race to the finish. I felt my balls tighten but wanted to hold on to the moment. I focused, tried to think of anything but the fact that my mother – the one woman I most secretly desired – was now sliding frantically up and down my cock.
My mom moaned, calling out my name, calling me baby. That did it. I couldn’t hold back any more. I groaned and my entire body twitched as I unleashed my seed into her. The sensation of my juice inside her brought her to another climax and we came together as one in a resounding moment of ecstasy. My balls were pulled so tightly against my body I thought they would disappear entirely. I felt pulse after pulse of juices course from my body, into my mother, only to mix with her fluids and to squeeze out of her pussy around my cock.
My mother leaned forward and kissed me, her motions slowing, but not stopping entirely. Her hips kept sliding over my cock, up and down, side to side.
I stammered. “Are you going to stop?” I asked.
“One is never enough,” she whispered into my ear and kept her hips moving.
My climax was ebbing, and a little bit of guilt was creeping into my mind. What had I done? I had just fucked my mother. That was wrong.
I wanted to pull away, but my mother was still pressed on top of me, her mouth teasing mine, her hips pulling on a cock that was threatening to go limp as the last of my orgasm slipped from the tip.
“Come on baby,” she cooed. “I know a boy like you has a lot more where that came from.
From some reservoir deep inside, I felt my cock start to stiffen again. My second thoughts slipped away. My cock was still inside my hot mom, along with her juice and my jizz.
I gently pushed her off of me, slipped to the side of the bed, and pulled her over, perching her on the edge of the bed on her knees, her pussy hovering right about the level of my cock. I stroked my soaked cock until was almost fully hard again, even though the grool and jizz hadn’t fully dried from our first go-round.
My mother was panting, sweaty, her hair stringy and stuck to her damp skin on her back. Sweat rolled down my chest. She looked back at me and begged me to fuck her.
Her pussy still dripped my semen as I slid my now rock hard cock back in. Every drop of restraint either one of us had felt up until that point slipped away. She screamed my name and begged me to fuck her. I obliged.
I adjusted my positioned behind her and went to work, taking her hair in my hand and gently tugging it, pulling her head backwards. She groaned as I pistoned my cock in and out of her slit – lubricated by the sticky, slick remains of our first mutual climax. I felt a wave of pleasure rock through her and a fresh surge of juices flowed around my cock. My stomach slapped her ass, my thighs rocked against hers, the sounds of skin-on-skin (and cock on cunt) filled the air, along with the scent of sweat, come, grool, and perfume.
My mom nearly screamed as we both rocketed to another mutual climax. She called my name one last time as I again drained my balls deep inside her.
Together, we fell onto the bed, into each other’s arms.
That hot mom I had secretly desired all these years was mine.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lhgqty/clementina_part_iii_mf_incestms_erotic_horror