Horny At Home Mother And Son

Angela Brandt rolled over on her bed onto her back, one hand sliding up the purple silk lingerie nightie to her breasts while the other hand held the phone to her ear.

"I'm pulling your pants down," she was saying. "Looking up at you with puppy eyes, kneeling before your majestic cock."

"Good girl," the young man on the other end of the call said in a low, menacing voice. "You know you need my cock."

"Yes," Angela whimpered, squeezing her breasts.

"How bad?" the man asked.

"So badly," she said, moaning into the phone. "Send it to me, boo-boo."

"Sent," he said. "What are you doing now? I'm fucking hard as a rock."

"I'm kissing that sweet cock, every inch of it, 'cause I love it so much," she said in a desperate voice. She rubbed her thighs together and moaned again. "I need it so badly."

"Yeah," he breathed.

She liked how he was panting into the phone. She could hear the movement of him jerking off and smiled at that.

A bleep on her phone told her there was a picture. She looked at the hazy, closeup picture of his hand gripping his cock. She wanted to lick the screen. She kissed it instead. She put it back to her ear.

"I see it!" she said.

"You like my fat ugly cock?" he asked in a growling voice.

"It's a big, beautiful cock," she answered.

He groaned and panted.

"I'm putting it in my mouth," she continued.

He cursed a few times.

"I've got your cock so, so, so deep in my mouth," she was saying. "I'm sucking hard. Harder."

He grunted.

"What are you doing to

me

, Billy baby?"

He only groaned again.

"Mmm, talk to me, Billy boo!" she said.

"I'm, I'm holding your head," he said between gasps. "I'm running my fingers through your hair." He cursed again. "I'm grabbing it, pulling on it, keeping you in place while I face-fuck the fuck out of you." She heard him roll on the bed. He continued: "And you're gagging. Ugh. Gagging on my big fat cock."

"Ooh, Billy, go easy on me," she begged, curling her body up while she ran her hand down and between her legs. She rolled over to her belly, then onto her back again, rubbing herself hard and fast.

"I'm coming," Billy said.

"On my face?" she asked.

"What about your face?" another voice asked.

Angela sat up suddenly, tugging the black lace hem of her lingerie nightie to cover her womanhood.

Her son stood at the door of her bedroom with his arms crossed over his tight black T-shirt.

"Jamie!"

"Oh, hi, Angela," he said mockingly. "Did I interrupt something?"

She pulled the strap of her lingerie back over her shoulders.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Billy was still saying on the phone. It wasn't on speakerphone, but it was loud enough for Angela to hear.

She put the phone back to her ear. "Hang on, Billy." Then she winced and mentally chided herself.

"Oh, it's back to Billy now?" he asked.

She had been such a naughty MILF, indulging in his friends throughout the years. Eric, Taveon and Billy all had lusty crushes on her. Eric called her a "hotwife," although she had been separated from her husband for a long time. Eric married off and didn't call her up anymore. Cocky Taveon was her main boy toy last year, pummeling her with his big swaggering black cock every Sunday morning. This year, she switched to shy Billy.

"I'm a grown woman, you know," she said, swinging her legs over the bed to get up.

"You don't act like it," Jamie said. "I've been away two years and you're still fucking around..."

"Stop it. Don't you knock?"

Billy was still on the phone. "I'm came all over your face," he was saying before Angela ended the call.

She threw the phone on the bed and walked up to her son by the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably and put his hands on his hips, looking down at her.

"Sleeping around with losers," he said accusingly.

"I said stop. Those losers used to be your friends."

"Fucking traitor ass loser friends," he muttered. "And you left the door open."

"Forget it. How'd you do?" she asked him, not looking him in the eye. "How is it out there?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Not as crazy as last week, but almost. I was able to get toilet paper, a few bars of soap. Most of that other stuff you wanted? Cleaned out. Sorry."

"This is so surreal," she said.

When she looked up at him, his eyes shifted from her cleavage to her face and to the side.

She touched his chest, making him flinch a little. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Can't be anywhere else," he said. "Schools closed 'cause of this pandemic. Can't stay at the dorm."

"And...you wanted to be with your...mother..." she added. "In a time of crisis?" She put both hands on him, liking the fabric of his tight spandex and Lycra shirt. "Right?"

He shrugged. "You heard from dad?"

She shook her head. "I'm worried about him."

He eyed the phone bleeping on the bed. "Not that worried."

She moved up to him suddenly and wrapped her arms around his waist. "A little worried for all of us."

He kept his hands on his hips.

She laid her head on his chest.

He let his arms hang.

She squeezed him in a hug.

He put his hands on her arms.

She smiled and looked up at him.

He had a pained look on his face. He shook his head.

She nodded.

He bit his lip and shook his head, staring at the window.

She moved towards his face and he tried to turn his face away. Her lips touched his face. He winced and gave an angry sigh.

"Stop being weird, Angela," he said.

She kissed under his jaw.

He frowned and focused on the ceiling.

She licked under his jaw. And pushed her body against his coming erection.

He closed his eyes and looked like he wanted to cry.

She took his face and made him face her and smiled at him.

"Kiss me," she said.

He cursed. And it was on.

He descended onto her, scooping her up in his arms, kissing her face desperately. She had to stand on her toes for her tall son. He grabbed her face and ran his fingers through her hair. He looked at her lovely face before kissing it again and again.

"I missed you, Angela," he said between his heavy breaths.

She opened her mouth to him and let him dip his tongue into her mouth. She closed her eyes while he devoured her. She ran her hands down his chest to his crotch and squeezed the erection.

Ever since her son came home a week ago, she had been wanting him. They had sex once, years ago. Then he avoided her, lived at a dorm, stayed with friends during summer and winter breaks, only saw her occasionally.

She thought it was the shame he felt having had sex with her.

"God, I missed you, too," she said, tears coming.

His face was buried in her neck. "I'm so sorry," he was saying kissing every inch of her face. "I couldn't face you."

"Why not? I needed you."

She had been so horny this morning. Now that her kids were home from school, she was hesitant to have her boys come over. Plus, everyone was isolating or distancing themselves. Horny and bored, she had called up Billy.

But the person she really wanted was Jamie, her son. Her lust for him was inappropriate, her daughter told her when confronted. Taboo and disgusting to most people. Something for backwoods hicks or backwards tribal peoples or something. Not for a nice college-educated middle-class family like theirs.

She laughed at that thought as Jamie grabbed her and pulled her with him to the bed. She jumped on to the bed and got on her back, inching back, spreading her legs for him.

He pulled his light blue jeans off and crawled on top of her.

"I don't know how long we're going to be holed up here," Jamie said as they snuggled into each other's arms. "Right now, I don't give a fuck."

"Ooh!" she cried out as his mouth attacked her neck and her breasts and his hands clawed at her silk.

He pulled the straps down to expose her breasts. He marveled at them. He hadn't seen them in two years. She smiled. His mother's large, welcoming breasts waited for him. She pulled his face to them. He nibbled and sucked on one nipple while grabbing and pinching the other.

"Oh, sweetie," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair.

He lowered his body to her legs. She spread them for him. He nestled his face between her thighs. She covered his head with her lingerie.

She jerked and squirmed and gasped at his kisses and bites and nibbles. And when his wet tongue hit the right spots, she cried out, "Jamie!"

What a good boy he was the way he was indulging her orally like this, she thought.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, the silence, his quiet slurping between her legs, and her low, sustained moan. Until the orgasm hit. And her cry echoed throughout the room.

She almost hit him, but his big hands held her tight. His athletic arms were flexed. She touched his biceps. He had been an athlete since middle school and she still couldn't believe such a huge godlike young man came out of her womb.

He emerged from under her silk and got on top of her again. He massaged his cock into her. She gripped his large shoulders with her dainty fingers.

"Wait, wait," she panted. "Say it first."

He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back down on the bed, ready to penetrate her.

She stopped him again, struggling with him. "No, Jamie, say it first. Please."

He bit his lip.

"Please," she begged.

He looked pained again.

She touched his face and looked into his green eyes.

He hadn't called her this in two years. He had called her "Angela." Or worse, "Mrs. Brandt." A way of distancing himself from the incestuous deed they had committed two years ago perhaps.

So, when he finally whispered, "Mother," to her ear, she beamed, staring up at the ceiling fan to thank God, while he buried his cock into her in such a heavenly moment.

"Jamie!" she cried out, as if she hadn't seen him in two years.

"My crazy, slutty mother," he mumbled.

She kept her eyes open, holding his face, watching him as he grimaced and drove his cock into her again and again. He was going faster and faster. He held his arm around her head while she wrapped her arms under his shoulders. She wrapped her thighs around him, too, her feet in the air, toes curling as he pushed and pounded into her. The noisy bed could barely handle the pressure of the punishing sex he was giving her.

But she could handle it just fine.

She liked the strain on his face. She liked how he gritted his teeth. She liked that they came together in a loud groan.

And she liked even more that he stayed inside her and on top of her after he came. Taveon would've jumped off immediately and gotten ready to leave. Eric would have apologized for taking so long or kept asking if she came, annoying her. Billy liked to cuddle, but like a little boy trying to please his mother.

She dropped her weak arms and legs. Jamie kissed her on the forehead, like he was the master, and she the wide-eyed little college girl. He kissed her lips. A romantic kiss.

"My mother, the insatiable MILF," he said to her.

She smiled at that. She started crying again. She gave him a light slap. "Why were you so mean to me?"

His confident, manly face broke into an apologetic boy's face. "I was seeing someone," he said. "I was with her and all I could think about was you."

"That's okay," she said with a mischievous grin.

"It's not. It's wrong. Sick."

"Delightfully sick," she joked, but he didn't laugh.

"I wanted to get over you."

He sat up. He leaned back on a pillow against the headboard and cursed. Angela got up as well and curled into him between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her while she laid her head on his chest.

A bleep on her phone made him look. She tried to reach it before he did but lost.

"Billy again," he said angrily.

"It's nothing."

"Oh yeah? His 'majestic' cock is nothing?" he said with air quotes.

She took the phone. "How long were you listening to that, you peeping eavesdropper?"

His scowl melted into a grin. "Long enough to get turned on."

She looked at him and laughed, surprised. "You don't hate me anymore," she concluded.

"Never hated you. Always loved you. Always will. Just have to accept you're crazy. And sexy."

She smiled and put a finger under her chin and pulled him into a kiss. Just as their tongues were about to connect...

"Wow," said a voice at the doorway.

Angela jumped and pulled the straps of her lingerie over her shoulders to cover her breasts.

Her daughter Sarah, also home from college, was standing there in her red bra, her tight jeans rolled up, sneakers pointed inward, fists clenched.

"You guys are so, so, omigod, so gross," she said.

Angela couldn't hide that Jamie was naked except for his shirt behind her.

"You really gotta lock that door, mom," Jamie chided her under his breath. She elbowed him.

Sarah was shaking her head, saying, "The world's falling apart, and this is what you guys do!"

"Sarah..." Angela tried to say.

"We haven't even heard from Dad, and this is what you guys are doing?"

Sarah whirled around and stomped away.

"Aw, nuts," Angela said.

"I'll talk to her," Jamie said, giving his mother another squeeze.

"You sure?"

He nodded. She liked his self-assurance.

She reluctantly pulled away from him. Angela responded to Billy's texts while Jamie put on his pants. There was also a text from Taveon asking how she was holding up.

She changed from her lingerie to a T-shirt and leggings and headed to the kitchen to make dinner. She received another call. She rolled her eyes thinking it was one of her boy toys, none of whom she needed now that Jamie was back. To her, they were all appetizers compared to the main meal that Jamie was. She chuckled at that analogy.

But it was her separated husband on the phone.

"Harry?" she asked.

He wasn't answering.

"Harry, what, where are you?"

"Still at my place," he finally said.

"Great. The kids are worried about you. You're still coming by later?"

"No," he said.

"Aw, why not? Sarah said—"

"I think I've got the virus, Angie."

"Oh, my God," she cried out. "Okay, okay, it's, how bad? I mean, not life-threatening for you, is it?"

"No, no, no, it's mild."

She sighed. "Thank God."

"But I have to stay here, obviously. You know. Self-quarantine."

"Of course. Oh, God, Harry. I'm so sorry. You'll get better. Let me give you the kids."

"Cool."

"You can reassure Sarah. She thinks it's a zombie apocalypse."

Harry chuckled. There was an awkward silence.

"The kids," he said.

"Right."

She left the kitchen and walked to Sarah's bedroom. She pushed the door open.

"Sarah, it's—"

She stopped.

Jamie was sitting on the bed. Sarah was on his lap. The way they were sitting made her curious. The way his hand was on her lap was suspicious. The look in their faces as if they had just finished kissing was obvious.

They hadn't noticed her. His hands were on her bare stomach now. Sliding up. On her bra now. Angela squinted. She gasped when Jamie gave his sister's little breast a squeeze. He dipped his finger into the bra and played with it. He flicked over her nipple, making her jump a little and chuckle. His hand slid up to her face. A thumb dipped into her mouth. Angela's mouth dropped when she saw Sarah suck on that thumb. She had a sweet smile on her face, holding his hand while she sucked that thumb. He pulled it out of her. He held her face. She leaned her face into his big hand.

And they kissed.

Angela wanted to be jealous, wondering how Jamie could make love to another right after sex with her. But then she remembered her phone sex with Billy.

He was leaning her back onto the bed while they continued kissing. He was slipping his hands into her jeans. She had his hand on top of his. She pushed his hand away and started unbuttoning, unzipping her jeans.

Angela retreated behind the door. She wanted to see more of this but hid instead, listening to the smacking of lips and Sarah's little chipmunk whimpering sounds.

Angela knocked twice and waited before walking in.

"Sarah? Jamie?" she said.

They were sitting up, she still on his lap. Jamie dropped his hand. Sarah had her hands over the top of her jeans, covering it.

"How are you?" she asked her daughter.

Sarah shrugged and gave a nodding smile.

Angela continued: "Good. Um, your dad has some bad news. Don't panic, though."

"What? What?" Sarah asked, getting up, already panicking. She forgot her pants were open. Her pink panties were visible.

Jamie stood up with her and put a hand on her back to calm her.

"He's dead?" Sarah asked, her voice getting high.

"He didn't call to say he's dead, Sarah," Angela said, handing her the phone.

Sarah grabbed it. "Dad? What happened? Are you okay? Tell me you're okay."

Jamie listened in. They huddled together as they talked to their father.

Angela left them alone. She headed back to the kitchen, thinking hard. She sighed and came to a conclusion:

Being holed up here with her kids was going to be more complicated than she thought.