(Bronson)
I lay awake in my childhood room staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself. My recent divorce landed me back home for no other reason than I had nowhere else to go. I knew dad was not happy to see me back home, but, in the past few weeks, I had tidied up his tools in the garage and did other chores to make myself useful. It seemed to have worked.
Now mom was a different story entirely, for she had not wanted me to leave home in the first place. She thought I was too young to be married. I did too, but that's what one did when you get a girl pregnant.
She went out of her way to fix meals that she knew I enjoyed, which only pissed off dad. I had almost saved enough to rent my own apartment, but I was weeks away from my goal. I was a fiddler on a hot tin roof.
Glancing at the clock told me it was 1:30 am. I had to pee. I left the bed, very quietly opened my door, and tiptoed down the hall towards the bathroom. I knew I was going to pass my parent's bedroom and I shuffled quietly over the carpet.
I was only a few feet from their door when I noticed the door was cracked about 2 inches and I hugged the far wall to avoid being noticed. I looked through the crack and was instantly stopped in my tracks. I had limited view but I could tell that mom and dad were both naked and engaged in sex. I had to pee real bad but knew if I continued they would surely know I was up, discover the door cracked, and there would be questions. I returned to my room, found a jug and relieved myself, and returned to my bed. I lay there many minutes fighting mixed emotions. I wanted to creep back to the door, but was terrified I might be seen. My curiosity won out and I again opened my door very quietly and shuffled down the hall.
Peering in, the bed was situated against the left wall, giving me a sidelong view of mom and dad. I noted that dad's head was turned away from the door. Mom was looking at the ceiling. I immediately focused on my mother. Having me late in life at 30, she was now 53. She was not pretty, more handsome, I suppose, and not at all shapely, but her skin was milky white and smooth. Her thighs and ass were large but pristine. I desperately wanted to see her breast, but could not, as dad lay heavily atop her. She lay on her back under my father, her legs wrapped around him, but she did not seem to be participating with any zeal or emotions. She uttered no encouragement and was otherwise disengaged. A zombie came to mind.
My father, on the other hand, seemed to be fully absorbed in fucking my mother. His hands were gripping her ass and I could hear his labored breathing. My hand went to my crotch and I started to rub, through the fabric of my pajamas, an ever-increasing erection, but it never became a full-blown hard-on. It was hard to become sexually aroused by such a one-sided affair, especially when my main focus was the opposite sex, my mother.
I remember my own wife, Betty, when she began to respond in such a way, lying there while I satisfied my sexual craving. Doing her duty. It made me wonder if everything was all right between my mom and dad. It seemed they had been married forever. Had I just subconsciously suggested that an interloper might have a chance?
My gaze left my mother's sensuous ass and I froze. Had mom noticed me? Was she staring at me through the crack in the door?
(Annabel)
I lay there staring at the ceiling. The cock inside me did nothing to stir any sexual desire within me. I had held him off for three weeks this time. The past few days he had begun to snap at me and I knew it was time to do my duty. I could, if I so desired, take care of myself tomorrow when I was home alone.
I looked toward the door, actually at the clock on the wall as I wanted this to be over, but I saw the door was cracked. I did not remember leaving the door cracked and rebuked
myself for not having been more careful. My son was back in the house and I needed to be more careful.
Was there someone there? Was he there? My breath caught when I realized that my son was peeking through the crack, spying on us. I immediately threw out the word "spying", as it was my fault the door was cracked. It would only be natural for a man to be inquisitive, even a son of his parents, his mother.
I did not feel it immediately, but I felt a surge of sexual desire swell inside me. There was something provocative and sexually mischievous about knowing someone was watching us. Knowing my son was watching me. A moan escaped my lips and my legs tighten around my husband's waist. I felt my clit come alive and my hips began to lift to meet his thrust, to sink his cock deeper into me.
Surprisingly to me, my thoughts were not of my husband, the man actually fucking me, but of my son standing at the door, undoubtedly, toying with a hard cock. Also, more surprising to me, if I was given the choice as to which one I wanted between my legs at this moment, I would choose my son over my husband.
(Bronson)
I was frozen and could not move. She was indeed aware of my presence at the door. I had seen her astonished look when she had realized someone was there, that I was there. But she made no effort to shoo me away, with a wave of her hand. Nor did she make dad aware. I stood there mortified.
Slowly I relaxed, knowing, as the minutes passed, she had accepted my presence and I watched, mystified, as she became a willing participant in sexual intercourse. I heard her moans. I watched her ass arch to meet my dad's thrust. I watched her body come alive in the semidarkness of the bedroom.
I reached into my briefs to grip my cock.
"Fuck me, baby!" I heard her exclaim. "Do you feel your cock deep inside my belly? Fuck me good!"
Dad had stopped concentrating on his own desires and was now focusing his attention on mom. He lifted off of her and they stared at each other as dad, his hands behind her knees, pushed her thighs back and spread wide. I could see her breast now. They were ample and heavy, her nipples were firm and plump.
"Give me that cock, Dan!" I heard mom exclaim. "Fuck me hard!"
I could tell dad was pulling his cock nearly out of her before plunging hard and deep back into her. Then he stilled his thrusting, and I was mesmerized as mom continued thrusting her pussy onto his cock, fucking herself into a lustful frenzy.
I watched, intoxicated, until her orgasm seized her, her ass moving like a piston out of control. Dad let her orgasm calm, then, reaffirmed his grip on her ass. He fucked her hard and fast as she moaned, like a stricken animal. He was close and I did not want to witness him filling her belly with his cum. Needless to say, I certainly did not want to get caught by dad. I shuffled quietly back to my room and, lying there in the dark, masturbated to the visions, remembering the moans, I had just witnessed. In my fantasy, I was the one to fill mom's pussy.
(Annabel)
I thought I was going to go insane! I was aware that Dan had stopped actively fucking me but I could not control myself and locked my eyes on the, not his in my mind, cock as I impaled myself on to it until my orgasm hit. As my orgasm slipped away, my desire to keep fucking was intense. I could care less that he would reap the benefit of my desire. Tonight, all I wanted him to do was keep fucking me. As usual, he only did so until he shot off.
Although I had told him so, it was not my husband's, cock that had made me all a twitter. Before this night, I had never consciously had any sexual thoughts of my son. But now, I knew the incestuous desires had been hiding just below the surface. Knowing he was there at the door watching me fuck had brought on the best orgasm I had ever experienced. I had never been so vocal, either.
After my orgasm, Dan locked onto my ass again.
"Fuck me with that big cock!" I exclaimed, which truth. "Give it to me, baby!
