come. She could hardly stand the intensity of her feelings. Her throat was covered with broken glass, making every breath a painful experience. Her lungs had long since filled with molten lead. It bubbled and perked up to make her tits feel as if they'd been popped into a furnace. She was completely alive as she'd seldom been before in her life. This was sex, this was fucking, as Nature had meant it to be. What matter it was her very own son's cock lodged so firmly inside her juicy twat? That only added spice to the adventure. As he relaxed and his prick slipped from her slobbering cunt, she decided she had to have more of that tasty prick. It was as alive as she was. She had to feel it touching her every hidden nerve, making her into a complete woman again. She simply relaxed and came plunging down to bury his prick into her cunt.
They both grunted at the force of impact. There was no denying her needs now. She ground her cunt as hard into his groin as possible.
She felt the incredible churning in her own pussy as his cock slowly twisted and stimulated her. Her cunt walls seemed to try to cling to his meaty prick. That made her insides twist and twitch in response.
She felt the skin all over her snatch tighten. When it pulled her clit over to one side, she came again. That tiny little pea-sized organ gave her the most intense sensation possible for a woman to experience. She screwed her eyes shut and simply let the orgasmic winds blow through her body. She knew the cock was pulsing hard in her pussy. She knew the hands were working avidly at her tits. She knew that people might be watching her fuck her own son. She knew all that and more and it fed the flames of lust consuming her. “Move, damn you,” came the distant command. The woman didn't understand who was speaking. Then she felt her son's hands pushing hard against her jugs.
That told her he wanted her to rise up on his prick again, to fuck herself faster and forget all about the feelings she experienced with his cock simply quiescent. As if moving in slow motion, she exerted the strength needed to rise up on her son's long cock. When her cunt hole sensed the nearness of the thick hood of his glans approaching, she stopped, then reversed her motion. Their crotches squished together wetly, passionately. She didn't hesitate at the bottom of her fucking cycle this time. Immediately rising again, she repeated the motion. The friction against her innards built up with every stroke of his prick in and out of her pussy. She loved the way it seemed to come alive and possess her. The warmth was like melted butter flooding into her belly to puddle there in eager anticipation of still another climax. She drove her hips in that up-and-down motion, fucking herself, feeling his prick entering and leaving her excited cunt until she did get off again. “Shit,” he moaned, “I can't take that much more. Your pussy squeezes me flat every time you come. I gotta fight back the jizz even now. You're making me feel like I'm just now getting my first piece of ass!”
The words thrilled her. This was her own son she was pleasuring so much! And it was his prick hotly drilling into her belly. Her cunt convulsed again as the spasm of orgasm rippled through her entire body. She was sweating profusely now and even this oddly stimulated her and kept her sexually strung out longer than she would have thought possible. The steady stream of salty sweat ran between her tits and tickled across her belly. She knew it was running down her back and each bone in her spine formed a tiny dam to hold it back just long enough. “Go, damn you, go! Fuck harder!” cried Fred. “I want to feel your cunt swallowing my entire goddamned cock!” The words spurred her on. Everything her son did was intended to heat her to the boiling point. When her lust frothed over, he wanted to be there to continue stuffing his prick into her seething well of carnal passion.
She huffed and puffed as she rocketed up and down his well-greased pole. Feeling his cock spreading inside her cunt made her motions a little bit jerky. It was difficult maintaining a smooth fucking tempo when the passions were running away with her self-control. For a few strokes, she tried to take her mind off the things arousing her so much. Counting the number of times his prick drove hard and fierce into her twat helped. She got up to seventy-seven before she came again. The woman thought she continued fucking the entire time she was lost in the wonderland of total sexual fulfillment but she wasn't sure. By the time she drifted back to the reality of the situation, her son was arching his back to make sure he shoved his cock as far up into her cunt as possible. Changing the motion of her fucking, she started swinging her hips from side to side as she dropped down on his cock. This corkscrewing motion gave new dimensions to the fucking. She felt her innards being pulled and twisted around. It was hard to keep from turning into a human machine gun and firing off one come after another, but this added movement and friction in her already aroused cunt was more than enough to make her get off again. “Stop it,” he muttered, not meaning it. “Your cunt's like a blast furnace. And a vise! You're crushing me and melting me at the same time! Goddamn, but this is one hell of a fine fucking!” His own body was having a difficult time keeping up with her frenzied moves. He drilled his cock upward and felt her pussy lips bulge around his balls, so deeply he shot into her cunt. When the tip of his cock brushed against her cervix, he knew he would never fuck deeper into a chick. Time and again he bounced the rubbery tip of his prick off the deeply buried, soft neck of her womb. When he felt her cunt clamp down still another time, he couldn't hold back his torrent of jism any longer. He screamed as the white-hot flood of his come spewed into her sucking pussy. He thrashed around, held down by the weight of her body, held in position by the rigid force of her cunt walls on his hidden prick. When he had finished gushing out his gallon after gallon of pearly white jizz, he subsided. Panting, sweating, tired, he managed to tell the woman, “That's got to be the last act, Mom. I'm beat. And look what you did to my cock! It'll never be the same again!” The limp snake folded itself at his groin.
Gone was the once proud fucking tool that had given them both supreme pleasure. He knew from the deadened feeling in his penis-it wasn't a cock unless it was long and hard and ready for a hot chick's cunt-that it would be an hour before he could get another hard-on. He would simply have to wait. Then he remembered the real reason he had come to the library. Fucking his mother had been fun, but it had been designed for another, more devious purpose. He raised himself up on one elbow and looked at his mother. He felt a pang of regret that it would be so long before his prick was ready for good use again. She had never appeared lovelier. There was a flush that always seemed to appear in the face of a woman after a satisfactory fucking. “Mom, what about the two of us going to the stock car races tonight? I picked up a couple free tickets and I think it might be fun.” She pushed herself erect and carefully rearranged her dress to try and make it appear less wrinkled than it was. She worked miracles on it as she stood upright. “Fred, you know I don't like things like that. I'd rather not, if you don't mind.” “Well, I do mind. I'm not going to pass up the chance to See the race.” “Why don't you take Denise?” “She's going with another guy,” he said. “And besides, I think it would be good for you to get out of the house. You're going to get cabin fever staying inside so much. All day long, these musty old books and then you go home and hide inside those four walls and…
“Okay, okay!” she said, holding up her hand to cut off his tirade. “I agree. What time do I have to be ready.” “Around eight,” he said, his smile a bit broader than it should have been.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I don't know why I agreed to come to this silly thing,” Gloria told Fred. “I don't like to see those men go out there and try to kill themselves. There's always a wreck and twisted fenders and…” “Quit bitching, Mom,” Fred told her. “You agreed and you're here and by damn you're going to enjoy this tonight.” “I doubt it. It's already getting cold and I didn't remember to bring a blanket. We're going to freeze to death watching those men out there slaughtering each other.” “It's not as bad as the freeway at rush hour and I remembered the blanket.” He pulled out a large cotton blanket with Intricate orange and blue patterns dyed into it like a demented artist's concept of a sunset. “I have no interest in the races and I want to go home.” “Stop being childish, Mom. I assure you you'll like it. Give it ten minutes or so and if you haven't gotten a hell of a charge out of everything by then, well, we can split.” “Split? If we don't freeze first. That wind is brutal.”
Shrugging his shoulders in resignation, Fred led the way up to the numbered seats in the bleachers. A quick glance told him that Denise and his father hadn't shown up yet. That was probably just as well. The way his mother was bundled up, he wondered if she expected another ice age to come within the hour. It would be hard to identify her-at first. After they all realized what was happening, it wouldn't matter. And with luck Gloria would be hot enough not to need the blanket anymore. “The bench is cold. Wood. I'm afraid I'll get a splinter in my rear end. Why did I…” “Will you kindly shut up with the griping, Mom? I told you, just ten more minutes and if things haven't picked up by then, we leave.” She slumped into a silence that was interrupted by the starting gun. The roar of engines and the squeal of tires as the racers took off would have made talking a pointless venture. Fred sat on the edge of his seat, not so much watching the race as wondering where Denise and his father were. Then he
