Alice was on autopilot. The taste of cum in her mouth was intoxicating. She had swallowed so much - her husband hadn't cum like that since their wedding night. She let her hand trace down her breast, feeling the sticky wetness of the cum she couldn't manage to swallow. Her hand kept going down, through the trail of cum, through her pubic hair, and found her wet slit. She felt a hand on her breast - no, she wouldn't think of whose hand, not now, when it felt so sweet. Rubbing another man's cum onto her clit, while her husband sat outside in the car, waiting with bated breath. Her head slumped onto the mattress, as the pleasure radiated from her groin.
"Liz..." it was his voice that snapped Alice out of it. Her son's voice. Calling her by the name she gave him when she thought he would be an anonymous bull. Her first cock since her marriage.
She withdrew. "Darren," she murmured, refusing to use his pseudonym, still covered in his cum, "we have to -"
"Dan, my name is Dan!" the desperation was palpable in his voice. She looked at him - his cock. Fuck, where had he gotten such a cock? It was at least two inches larger than his father's, and quite a bit thicker. It looked gorgeous.
"Sweety," she said gently, "none of this is your fault, but you have to realize... I did this because you were so desperate, but it wasn't right, I'm your mother."
"And?" Darren asked. "After this summer I won't be living with you two again. Dad wants you to fuck other guys, unless you were lying about that, and we're two consenting adults. I don't see the problem."
His father. Jack. Her husband of over twenty years. Fuck. How was she going to tell him about this? The though of keeping it secret obviously flashed through her mind, but she pushed it away just as instantly. This was too big. Too many implications for them as a family. She had to find a way to tell him.
"Honey, I need a moment to think. Please don't freak out. And don't worry. Again, you haven't done anything wrong. But give me a moment to go and figure things out." She got off her knees and wen to kiss him on the forehead, but became suddenly aware of her state. Her breasts swinging in front of her. Her pussy out, wearing nothing but thigh highs. She pushed it from her mind - she was his mother, and he needed comforting. She kissed him on the forehead, and walked away, trying not to be shy about her nakedness.
When the bathroom lights turned on she couldn't help but stare at herself in the mirror. She had long, dark brown, curly hair that went past her shoulders. Some of her son's cum had matted the strands together beside her shoulder. The cum on her chest and belly had dried, but she could feel it like a second skin, crackling as she moved.
She couldn't help it - she thought back the feeling of her son's cock pulsing in her mouth. It made her incredibly horny. She needed to think clearly. She tried pushing it away, but it kept coming back. She needed to think clearly. Her son had shown some wisdom in that, actually - when you needed release there was nothing much else to do. She grabbed a towel and draped it over the corner of the granite counter. She edged up to it, and stood on her tip toes, thrusting her hips forward so her clit would grind against the soft material. She braced her hand against the wall, feeling the pressure on her clit, feeling the strong muscles of her ass squeeze with each thrust as she drove herself forward. She didn't even try not too - she remembered the feeling of that cock, that enormous, lovely cock, its ridges passing her lips. The sensation of it on her tongue. The sensation of it parting her lips. She imagined the sensation as it parted other parts of her body.
The orgasm caught her by surprise. Only a moment of build, before the waves of pleasure were wracking her, her abs clenching as she thrust haphazardly onto the counter. Once the last of the contractions had passed, and she could catch her breath, she found she was thinking a bit more clearly. But she still couldn't deny the primal want that had been awakened.
She took her phone from the purse she had left here when she first walked in. "Jack..." she typed. "We need to talk."
--
The conversation went better than it had any right to. At first, Jack had demanded details - what had she done? What happened? Were they already done? He was so turned on, he told her. She didn't know what else to do - she wrote the truth. The man whose cock they had been imagining splitting her open for two weeks, the man that she had told him was going to be a better fuck than him the night before... that man was their son.
"Did you... do anything with him?" the text sat there, plain, without tone, but also without judgment. For the moment.
She decided to call, to explain, so they could hear each other's voices. She tried to stay quiet. She didn't want Darren to worry. She explained. How sorry for him she had felt. How much desire he had. He seemed in pain. She wanted to give him release.
Had she enjoyed it? Yes. Was she wet? Yes. Did she cum? Yes. Did he want to do more? Yes. Did she want to do more?
