Mom's Valentine's Day Decision

"Wow, Mom, you're hot as—"

"Don't!" Mom interrupted. "Don't say another word. I know that look."

"What look?"

"That 'I want to have sex' look." She glared over her shoulder at me with her smoky eyes. "We've been over this, Marcus. It's not happening!"

I took in her new black Valentine's Day dress. I couldn't not gawk at the heart-shaped cutout framing the deep, inviting swells of milky white cleavage. The dress skimmed just past the flare of her hips. Dark stockings clung to her shapely legs and a pair of strappy red four-inch fuck-me heels adorned her feet.

The ensemble conformed to her 5'6" hourglass figure so perfectly it might as well have been painted on, like the glossy clear coating that accentuated her lips.

"Dad doesn't deserve you."

She gave me a smirk. My cock pressed against my zipper, throbbing like a bad toothache.

"Don't remind me." She preened her shoulder-length blonde hair. "But I promised in counseling I'd give him a chance. And that means no more fucking around."

"So you've said," I groused. I'd suffered a week of this shit. After a winter of insatiable passion, where we couldn't keep our hands off each other, and I'd officially become the man of the house, all of it had come to an abrupt halt when Dad's secretary dumped his lying ass and he decided to come groveling back. I could tell Mom hated it as much as me, but societal conventions had convinced her to ignore her feelings out of a twisted sense of marital duty.

She sucked in a breath and forced a smile."I'm a woman of my word. Besides, he's trying. This whole night was his idea. It's sweet! He even texted earlier to make sure to get my favorite flowers..."

I clenched my jaw as she continued, "...You'll see, it's better this way. Healthier. Having your dad back in your life. Me just being your mom, not some selfish wild woman trying to relive my youth. It's time we get back to being a nice, normal family."

I reached down and adjusted my bulge. She noticed and reflexively tugged at the dress's hem so her butt cheeks didn't peep out the bottom.

She was deluded. I didn't want to wait till Dad moved back in for her to realize she missed my cock and what it did to her. Listening to her excuses was torture.

"He's a loser!"

"Be nice." She tossed me another smoldering glare.

"He can't make you happy."

"Ugh, not this again," she sighed dismissively.

My patience snapped. Before Mom knew it, I ensnared her from behind. My hands instinctively locked beneath her breasts and began fondling the enormous Jell-O-ish orbs. I kissed her collarbone. The feminine heat from her perfume consumed me.

"Maaarcus, no," her voice quavered. "We can't." She grabbed my wrists.

My hips rocked against the backs of her thighs, my boner threatening to explode in my pants.

"S-stop..." she stuttered, squirming, but that just increased the friction between her buttcrack and my rock-hard tent.

"Seriously," she rasped. "Wuh-we'll talk later, honey. Okay?"

I spun her around, and our lips mashed together.

"MMphmm!" Mom moaned a muffled objection. My hand pressed to the back of her neck. Frenching slowly, her resistance floundered. Her tongue lashed, fighting until becoming lethargic and entangled with mine. She tasted sweet, like cinnamon and honey.

"Nnghh," she whimpered. Her hands pushed half-heartedly against my chest. The sensations I knew she'd been craving all week overwhelmed her. I stuck my hand in the heart cutout massaging her naked tits and teasing her nipples. She melted into me, tongue trembling, knees weak.

Our kiss broke with a gasp, lips sticky, her cheeks red, our warm breath mingling.

"I love you," I whispered.

In a ragged voice, she tried to regain composure. "I... meant what I said. I have a dinner—your father—he'll be here any—"

My hand moved to her sex and pressed against her soaked panties.

"I—I." She caved. "Oh god, Marcus." She laced her fingers around the back of my neck and leaped on me like a jaguar. I backpedaled as we fell onto the bed together, groping, kissing, and scrambling to undress.

Five minutes passed. The doorbell rang... then again... and again, going unanswered until my father, defeated, trudged back to his car, tulips in hand, for the valentine that never showed. I drove back into my mom's pussy. She was close. Guess they'll have to work this one out in therapy.