the dress, standing here stark naked, hearing Sonny breathe hard. He's staring at my nude body- What am I doing?
Rid of the dress, she slipped on the nightie. Oh, God, it was a shorty! Hip length, to be worn with matching panties. They were in the drawer. The garment was as transparent as cellophane, a lime-green was merely tinting her torso.
He said, 'That sure is a pretty nightie.'
So he was staring!
She could not get to the panties in the drawer without facing him. Her dressing gown was in the bathroom. She would have to bold it out.
She turned and walked toward her bed.
He said, 'Of course, Lily isn't as pretty as you are, Mother.'
She dropped to the bed, lay on her side facing him, an arm hiding her titties, a hand hung over her pussy.
He said, 'Well, it's late. I better go to bed.'
But his prick stood out like a pole tenting his pants.
He moved to her. Time for the ritual goodnight kiss. He bent over her.
Something within her spoke, an urge she had failed to subdue.
'Sonny, turn out the light. It hurts my eyes. Then come sit down a moment. I want to talk to you.
He switched off the light.
Moonlight glowed in the window. If only it were darker!
He sat on the edge of the bed.
She thought, What am I doing?
She choked, 'Sonny, you have to understand a mother's viewpoint. When her son dates a girl it changes things.'
'Like I'm not a little kid any more?' He laughed, sounding self-satisfied. But nervous, too.
'Yes, it's a separation, like having adhesive tape torn off my skin. I'm so lonely. I feel-all alone. I mean, you should go out with Lily. But you see, tonight I was at these people's house, a married couple, just one of me all alone.'
Over his thigh she could see the head of his prick stretching his pants.
He asked, 'Do you want me to go to bed?'
She could not speak. Her throat was agonizingly dry. A pulse hammered within her.
Sonny bent over her, as though to give her a goodnight cheek kiss.
She gasped, 'Lie down a minute. Hold me, Sonny. I'm so-alone-lost. Please?'
He obeyed. She rested her head on his arm, wove her fingers into his shirt. He was fully dressed, in shirt and pants. It would do no harm to let him lie here.
She thought of him kissing Lily. Then something happened, one or both of them moving. His breath touched her lips and she pressed to him, rolling her lips over his, finding his tongue in them, kissing her son like a lover.
Going wild. Her hand gripped his shoulder. Her fingers began walking, marching rigidly, angrily, down his back to his hip. Greedy fingers. She clutched his thigh. Then her hand inched down the curve of it.
She seized his hard cock.
He groaned in bet mouth.
Blame it on the grass she had smoked, or on the delirium of Myra's tongue up her cunt, delicious but not hard-a woman needed cock, yes, a woman had to have her hole filled, and what did it matter whose prick did the job? Her hand was compressing a foot of bone, the heat of it burning right through his pants.
He groaned, 'Mother, I can't-stop!'
Her whole belly had knotted up, was gulping at itself, hurting, on fire, clenching painfully.
She rasped, 'Take off your clothes! Quick!'
He tore from her, unbuttoned his shirt and flung it away. He unzipped. A curve of cock leaped twanging into view. She had to have it. She clutched her throbbing pussy. So hot, burning- He kicked away his clothes and in the moonlight his lean body was white and beautiful, his man-meat a rigid prong, his scrotum hanging across his thigh.
Kit flung her arms and legs wide and lay waiting.
'Mother, do you want-'
'Yes!' she cried. She tore the nightie up her body, exposing her white belly and the dark muff fringing it, the hair bushing out between her spread thighs, hair masking her slit from her view but not his as he climbed between her legs and his cock dipped down, aimed at her crotch.
She shot a hand to it. God, it was a bone, a concrete club, an iron staff, a throbbing cylinder of, cock, the hardest she had ever touched, capped by a bulbous end like an apple. Bending it down with her thumb, she fingered his fat balls.
It plunged into her.
It went in like a spear, in one thrust sliding right up her gushing hole, swimming in her belly. She was a cavern, a yawning sac, an agonized emptiness into which it slid seemingly without touching her cunt walls.
He came down on her body, filling her split with rampant young cock, a twitching, throbbing prick like a giant, stony banana.
She bowed her back as she threw her arms around him. She reached all the way to his buttocks, dug her fingers in deep, and pulled, drawing him into her, all the way, crushing her spread cunt lips. She jacked up her legs and crossed them over her wrists.
She was jerking, hips wrenching, her cunt sucking at his burning tool.
She was coming already, coming like a tornado on her son s big cock.
The moment Sonny shoved into his mother's cunt he knew that his previous experience had been elementary, childish, strictly teenage experimentation.
His cock lanced into a gaping cavern, to its very depths, his pubes mashing her open, jelly-like twat lips. In the space of a heartbeat the cavern collapsed. Rather, the walls leaped inward from every direction, imprisoning the massive rigidity of his cock in a searing, rolling, fluid tube.
It was a fist composed of a thousand fingers, a multi-tongued mouth, a sump pump gulping at his ball-bat prick.
He felt her fingers dig into his ass, drawing him in, her thighs locked on his waist, her mouth suckering his tongue to her throat. He was balanced on her hot belly and the ballooning swells of her breasts.
He was a man-shape, an angular, bony, jarring length from the middle of which projected a long, iron curve of throbbing meat, being used as simply that, a male of the species.
Kit was not his mother. He was not her son. He was merely a youth coupled with a voracious female in desperate, dying need of a cock in her cunt. She did not know him. He might as well have been a machine or a male whore hired for a single fuck.
That is, he did not know her. His mother's doting tenderness was not present. This wanton, this whore, lived only for his cock.
She tore her mouth from his and shrieked, 'I'm coming, coming,coming! Fuck me! I'm coming! Agghh! Agghh! Coming! Coming!'
Her whole body wrenched, tearingly, and her cunt ran in knotty ripples up and down his cock, ringing tight each time her rotating hips rose and paused, lifting him, jerking for a moment before she again fell, her cunt falling loose, while she gathered strength for the next terrible upheaval.
She was suffering, he knew, trying to break something inside her that hurt very badly.
She raised one last time, trembled all over, and then collapsed.
'Coming,' she whispered faintly. 'Coming, down the hill, down, thank God I'm going down, down. A river.'
Her arms and legs fell from him. She lay motionless, looking away from him and breathing very hard.
He choked, 'Mother, are you all right?'
Panting, swallowing, she nodded.
Strong moonlight came from the window behind her, brightening her hair but leaving her eyes shadowed, unseeable pits.
