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Stan looked up when he heard his mother enter the living room. The expression on her face told him she had been taking her medication and that it was having the same side-effect on her. There was pure desire etched in her features.
"Needing another session?" he asked, setting aside the book he'd been reading.
"Do you mind?" She bit her thumbnail and waggled her body back and forth like a young girl asking for candy. In a way, she was asking her son to bring her to sweet release of the sexual energy her anxiety prescription was leaving her with.
"Of course not, Mom, er Beth." Stan sat forward, adjusting his posture for the activity that was to come. She insisted he call her by her first name when they were having one of their 'dry humping' sessions. Stan still wasn't comfortable with this, but it seemed to ease her mind regarding what they were doing. Not really incest, she would rub herself on his leg or have him rub her crotch with his hand or arm, effectively masturbating her to climax. As there was no skin to skin contact and certainly no penile penetration, she was content with their arrangement.
The trouble was, Stan was having a more difficult time keeping incestuous thoughts from creeping into his head with each session.
He held his hands apart, indicating he was ready for her, so she stepped forward and straddled his leg. While she began rocking back and forth, sliding along his thigh, he gripped her by the hips, steadying her, guiding her. Beth closed her eyes, lost in her own fantasy as her body worked toward sexual release.
The feel of her contact with him was pleasant but the feelings it raised in Stan, gave him concern. They'd had four of these sessions since their first one where she'd given him an unintended blow job, him ejaculating in her mouth when she had been trying to lubricate his penis while masturbating him. It was the only skin-on-skin activity they'd undertaken. Since then, he'd had to find his own release. He didn't mind, but thinking about his mom stimulating herself on his body was stimulating him despite his efforts to remain impartial. He'd noticed too, that she was taking longer to reach climax. Was she becoming less sensitive to their sessions? He had an idea on how to reignite her passion that he planned on springing on her.
Stan's cock grew hard as he thought about what he was going to do. To help his mom, he let his hands roam to her buttocks, kneading her nicely shaped ass, guiding, coaxing her as she rode his leg. She arched her back, her hands locked behind his head, using him for support. He slid his hands up her back, massaging her, encouraging. As he had done before, he let his hands wander to her breasts, feeling her up through her t-shirt and bra. Struggling to keep away thoughts of her being nude, doing more than humping his leg, Stan's erection grew, becoming painful, restrained as it was in his pants. How he wanted it to be free, for her to caress him again.
Her breath deepened, the moans she was releasing, becoming guttural, low in her throat. At the same time, her rocking grew more intense, her mouth opening and closing. It's now or never, Stan thought, then slid his hands down to her waist where he tucked them under the hem of her top, then up her stomach and under her bra. For the first time, he held her bare breasts in his hands, nothing between them except the sweat on his palms. Her nipples were rock hard, standing stiff against his fingers. He squeezed them, coaxing a long moaning sigh from her. Then she stopped.
"We agreed," she looked at him with the same firm eyes she'd used to hold him accountable when he was a mere child, "no skin."
"No," he said, having prepared for this argument. If he was going to have to jerk off later because she was horny now, he wanted some concrete, and solid memories to think of while he was doing it. Her b-cup sized tits with their expressive nipples would give him enough stimulation for several sessions with his hand. "You said no," and then he mimicked the jabbing fist by his face, pumping his tongue against his cheek in the well-known pantomime of a blow job.
She gave him a shocked look, stopping her motion on his thigh, for a few brief moments. Then the rocking started again as she gave him a shy smile. She blushed. "You remember everything."
Stan took encouragement from the fact she hadn't moved away from his hands. He kept on feeling her up. She actually pressed herself tighter against him. "I'm so selfish, I've forgotten that what my doing this must be doing to you. You're horny for your mom?"
Stammering, Stan responded, "No, no, not horny for you Mom. That would be perverted. But I will admit it's making my penis hard." He felt silly saying 'penis' but how could he say cock to his mom?
"Alright then, not horny for your mom, but how about horny for Beth?" With that, she put her hands on his hands, crushing them against her bosom. "I'll admit that Stan doing this makes me horny." As though her admission released something that was inhibiting her, she pressed her crotch even harder, faster against his leg. "Oh god," she moaned, "squeeze me Stan, make me cum." Then she couldn't speak, just moan and pant as her motions grew even more frantic, intense. Stan dropped one hand and began rubbing her crotch, where he imagined her clitoris was.
"It's time for Beth to blast off," he whispered, his own breath coming deep, fast. His other hand squeezed her breasts, scrabbling at them as though trying to find a handhold.
Her back arched and her thrusts grew longer, more urgent. "Yes Stan, yes Stan, I'm taking off." Then her head was against his neck, her breath hot, wheezing. Quiet "Yeses," streaming out of her. A minute later, she collapsed against him. Sweat streamed down her face, dampened his shirt. He became aware how painful his erection was. She had it pinched against his leg.
He held her, finally removing his hand from her tit, returning to rubbing her back. He ran one hand down her ass, along the middle seam of her jeans, between her legs, pressing against her vagina. "Ohhhh, yes, that's nice," she crooned. The vibration from her words against his throat sent shivers through him.
Shifting his weight to ease the discomfort of his dick, Stan moved his hips side to side, walking his ass back. "You're uncomfortable." His mother's head came off his shoulder.
"It's ok, Mom. I'm fine." He didn't want her to move, felt closer to her than he had before.
"But you're a man and I know this must be making you feel," she paused a moment, "uncomfortable." She finished with a sigh, looking down at him, holding his eyes before looking at his crotch.
"Mom," Stan sing-songed. He knew he was acting offended, knew he really wanted her to do something about his erection. He thought again about when she'd masturbated him to climax. He couldn't stop his hips from rising an inch, lifting her, then letting her settle.
"We can do that," she announced, and Stan wondered what she was talking about.
"What?" he asked.
"I've been dry humping you. I think it's only fair you get to hump me." She stood, then sat on the couch, laying back against the arm, letting her knees fall apart. "Climb on Stan, let's rub, crotch to crotch. You need some relief."
Feeling uneasy, but feeling super horny too, Stan crawled on top of his mother. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him with her thighs as he settled his cock against her crotch. Her hips rocked, rubbing him. A sigh squeezed out of her as he let his weight bear down on her.
"I'm not too heavy?"
"You are fine. Let's do this." There was a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Stan nuzzled against her neck, began to grind against her. Shivers ran up and down his body. He couldn't believe how nice this felt. He pressed harder. The two of them worked their bodies against each other. Sweat broke out on Stan's back, heat rose where his penis rubbed against his mom. She locked her legs around him. He knew what his father had experienced when he was fucking his wife.
Beth's pelvis speeded up, rocked more, as though trying to scoop its way through Stan. Stan timed his thrusts to her movements, intensifying the friction, the feelings. His cock felt trapped, wanting to be free of the confines of his clothes. Too, it was getting warm where they were rubbing. It grew hotter as their movements became more frantic.
Stan shifted his weight, lifting himself with one arm. That eased the pressure on his crotch but didn't relieve the heat they were generating. With his free hand he massaged his mom's tits. She stared into his eyes, a smile encouraging him, her head nodding. Then he felt the gathering in his balls.
