All persons engaged in sex are over 18, yadda, yadda.
This story is not meant to be in any way realistic or serious. It's meant to be a little humorous and reads like pure porn. There is barely any backstory here and no names are used. Unlike most of my stories there is no real conflict. Some of my readers, for that reason, may not like it.
This story contains incestuous sex between mother and son. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't read it and move on. You were warned. For everyone else, enjoy.
Note this story was self-edited. If you find any errors contact me with them via email, don't leave them in the comments.
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"If you could keep it up long enough for ME to have an orgasm, then maybe I wouldn't be such a bitch!" Mom hissed, failing to keep her voice down as I approached the kitchen where they were arguing.
"It's not my fault. I got the Viagra like you asked me."
"Psssht, yeah, and you were -- what - hard for five minutes?"
"Listen, I tried to get you off. It was taking you so long my fingers were getting cramped."
"Maybe if you knew how to USE them it wouldn't take you so long!" she yelled.
That's what I walked into that Monday morning. Mom and Dad fighting again right before work. It was the same fight they've been having for the past month. Hell, it could have been longer. I was only just aware of their marital problems after having just moved back in with them (temporarily) after finishing my computer engineering degree.
Mom was sexually frustrated and Dad? Dad barely cared. I'm not saying he was heartless; I think he was frustrated and was getting worn down by her derision.
As a joke I decided to jump in the conversation. The hope was that they might be a little embarrassed by it and maybe they'd have their fight in their room next time.
"Don't you ever go down on her, Dad?" I asked, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard for some coffee.
I was looking at Mom as I asked it and her eyes grew big and I could tell right away the answer was no.
"Your father thinks it's 'gross'," she said, making air quotes around gross.
Dad just looked away in embarrassment.
"Don't you have any toys, Mom? Vibrators? Dildos?" I asked, hoping my nosiness would embarrass them. Except it didn't.
"Yeah, but they aren't the same," she said, sadly.
"I tried using one of those cock sleeves one time," Dad said, offhandedly. "Damn thing kept on slipping off."
This wasn't going the way that I planned. We were never this open about our sexuality growing up, so their frankness was off putting.
"Well, I'd take care of her for you but..." I shrugged, trying to be humorous.
"Good luck. That woman takes a long-time cum. You'd need a good half-hour just to get her warmed up and another just to bring her to orgasm."
I was confused by the fact that he took me seriously, answering my obvious attempt at sarcasm.
"I have to be at work in an hour," he grumbled, attempting to defend himself.
"An hour? I could make her cum at least ten times before then," I answered.
Mom giggled and said, "Good luck with that!"
Dad looked at me and said, "She's not one of those multi-orgasmic types. She's never cum more than once a day in her life."
Mom, Dad and I all had jobs in the city, and all left for work at the same time. Mom and I often carpooled together since I still didn't own a car. Mom and Dad were hard-working blue-collar workers. Dad was a supervisor at a warehouse and Mom was a teacher at an elementary school and I was a beginning level software architect whose starting pay doubled both of theirs combined.
"I've never met a woman yet that I couldn't get to cum, AT LEAST, four or five times," I bragged.
"Riiight," Dad said, his sarcasm challenging.
"How much you wanna bet?" I asked.
