This story contains incest, interracial sex, and references to bisexuality. If any of these trip your trigger, move on!
Chapter 01
Ann "Queenie" Caples was an emotional wreck. Her marriage of thirty years was on the rocks, and she was desperate to save it. She and her husband Cass hadn't had sex in weeks. They were more intimate friends than sexual partners.
Her husband was gone again for a weekend bowling tournament. Lately, It seemed they spent more time apart than together. The spark had gone out of her marriage, and her best efforts seemed unable to rekindle the fire. She tried everything she could think of to get her husband Cass interested in her again, to no avail.
Queenie decided to try a sexier image. She would present a sexier her to her mate when he returned. She spent the day shopping for sexy lingerie, hoping to rekindle the spark in their sex life by being more alluring.
Queenie tossed the shopping bag on her bed. She took a sip of wine from her second glass of the afternoon, stripped off her ratty housecoat, and pulled a sheer nightgown from the bag of lingerie.
Queenie stood in front of her full-length mirror, holding the diaphanous nightwear in front of her naked body, critically eyeing the effect. She took a deep breath, pulling her mommy pooch in while shaking her head doubtfully. Thirty years of marriage, an aversion to exercise, a love of decadent desserts, and one son left her looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
She bent at the waist, her bubble butt pointing toward her bedroom door, preparing to don the matching French cut panty when her son Kevin gave her a wolf whistle
"What the...," she exclaimed, bolting upright, trying to hide her nudity with the sheer robe.
Unbeknownst to her, as she tried on and tossed aside various lingerie outfits, her son, rolling on molly, stood just outside her bedroom door watching the show. The lingerie ranged from the merely sex, like the sheer peignoir set, to the outrageous, like the set with the bra with cutouts and crotchless panties.
"Yowsa! Way to go, Mom!".
Kevin clapped his hands while whistling and unabashedly ogling his 47-year-old mother.
Ecstacy fueled Kevin's courage; else, he would never have been so forward. He was euphoric, and every sense seemed more acute. His mother appeared more like a Rubens model than an overweight middle-aged housewife.
At 23 years old, he was over his teenage crush on their mother. Back then, Kevin followed her around the house lust-struck, hoping to catch glimpses of her lush body. He shot quarts of cum into her panties he stole from the hamper.
Four years of college and losing his virginity as a freshman cooled his ardor for his mother. Now he had his tiny apartment in San Francisco, worked for an internet portal, and indulged in the casual sexual mores of The City. He had numerous male and female relationships and considered himself a good lover. He was even in throuple with a bisexual married couple.
While passing her bedroom door, he saw her trying on and modeling lingerie. The one she wore now would do justice to a Victoria's Secret model. It was sheer, revealing her 36G breasts, prominent nipples, and greying blond bush. Her body was Rubenesque, and her stature was Amazonian at 5' 10
Queenie blushed, feeling warm, having completely forgotten her son was home. Kevin was home working remotely after his IT firm closed because of COVID-19. Like others in his field, he resisted the firm's request to return to full-time office work.
"OH! You startled me," she said.
Queenie's hand pressed against her substantial bosom. For the moment, she forgot she was virtually naked in the diaphanous sleepwear; instead, she was eying her handsome, fit son. He reminded her of her husband in his younger years, exuding health, vitality, and sexuality when they married.
"Sorry," he said in a sing-songy voice.
Jesus, he thought, mom has put on a few pounds, but she is still hot.
"But I didn't expect to see a sexy senior modeling lingerie!"
"Senior? I'm not that damn old! Now get out of here so I can get dressed."
Is that a bulge in his gym shorts?
"
"Okay," he laughed, "I guess the striptease is over."
Neither of them expected what happened next. Later they ascribed their behavior to their altered mental states brought on by Queenie drinking wine and Kevin dropping molly.
Queenie walked toward her son, intending to playfully push him in the chest and out of her bedroom. She tripped over the throw rug on the floor next to her bed and extended her arms, intending to break her fall. Kevin, aiming to break her fall, spread his arms to catch her.
Queenie fell into her son's arms, her momentum carrying them both to the floor. Kevin's hands clutched at the insubstantial material of her sleepwear, ripping it off as they tumbled to the floor with Queenie on top.
Mother and son lay on the floor; the wind knocked out of them. Queenie tried to stand, disoriented from the fall and feeling the effects of the wine she drank. She placed her hands on her son's chest and levered herself up.
Queenie's eyes widened, and she gasped when the bulge in her son's shorts pressed against her bare pussy. She scrambled, trying to get up and off him, pushing on his chest with her hands while trying to rise to her knees. She succeeded in straddling him with his cockhead pressing against her pussy.
The next several moments were a blur. Queenie's knees slipped on the highly polished hardwood floor, causing her to drop down and impale herself on her son's cock. Her hips jerked involuntarily, sliding back and forth as an unexpected thrill ran through her body.
"Oh my God, no!" Queenie gasped as her son's cock impaled her.
Her struggles to stand served only to cause his tool to piston in her hole.
Kevin looked up at the best set of tits he had ever seen. It helped that he spent most of his adult life fantasizing about seeing them. He grasped and squeezed them.
"Kevin! Stop! You shouldn't be...!" OH!" Queenie exclaimed when he took her nipple in his mouth and hungrily suckled while nipping lightly.
For a moment, she recalled the halcyon times when she breastfed him. She loved breastfeeding! It made her feel closer to her son. She believed that she filled him with love while filling his tummy with her breast milk. She clasped his head to her bosom, re-experiencing that feeling of wellbeing and love.
Kevin misinterpreted her action as acquiescence. He thrust several times, refueling his mother's neglected sexuality.
"Oh God, no! We mustn't!"
Even as she spoke, Queenie's hips repeatedly pumped, burying Kevin's substantial length and girth deep in her. His cockhead bruised her cervix while his shaft rubbed her sensitive clit.
She and her husband Cass hadn't fucked in weeks. She was, as a starving woman, suddenly presented with a feast. Her son's cock may be forbidden, but sliding in her gash felt good.
"I love you, Mom," Kevin said, gripping his mother's hips and thrusting into her.
"Sweet Jesus, no!"
Queenie's body betrayed her. She rocked back, grasping her breasts as the sensation of her son's cock filling her suspended reasoning. Kevin was balls deep in her hole, filling her completely.
"I never thought fucking you would feel like this," Kevin groaned, thrusting up.
On automatic pilot, his inhibitions lowered by the molly; he repeatedly thrust into his mother while fondling her big jugs.
"We must stop, baby! Fucking you is so wrong!"
Even as she spoke, her hands rested on her son's chest, her ample hips rhythmically pistoning, matching her son's pumping. She hated herself for being so weak and unable to stop fucking Kevin. At the same time, Kevin's cock filled every inch of her, sending her to unimagined heights of arousal.
"Get up, Mom! If you don't want this, all you have to do is stand up! I won't stop you!"
Kevin lay back with his hands by his side, looking up into his mother's lustful, sweating face.
