"Keep it goin,' Mom," Mark chortled. As if his insanely horny mother could do anything else. Carrie had been sliding up and down her son's solid cock for at least twenty minutes. He relaxed on the living room couch, arms folded behind his head, heaving his ass up to slam his prick home every time Carrie plunged downward. Her body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. Her makeup, freshly reapplied before leaving her office this evening, was a mess with mascara streaked down her cheeks and lipstick smeared over her chin. Her hair was a wet tangle.
Mark watched her contentedly as she nakedly shimmied and bounced in his lap. Every so often, he reached out and caught one of his mother's turgid nipples between his fingers. He'd tweak it idly, turning it like a dial to amp up the intensity of the electric pleasure that coursed through her nerves. She would come, again. The longer she humped up and down his cock, the closer together and stronger her orgasms became.
As terrible and humiliating as screwing her own son was, Carrie couldn't help herself. He was just too good, and she'd been without sex for too long. The worst of it was, she didn't understand how she'd let it happen, again.
After their first fuck by the pool, she'd showered and dressed before heading out to work. Checking herself in the mirror, she'd been newly bothered by how unavoidably sexy she looked. With her top-heavy figure, it was impossible to wear a knit top without accentuating the ample curves of her tits. Her skirt hugged her hips, and even low heels caused her calves and thighs to flex like the centerfold girls in her father's old collection of men's magazines.
It was perfectly professional attire. But seeing herself through the prism of her rekindled lust and her son's sexual pursuit she couldn't deny that at thirty-six she was every young man's ideal of a fuckable MILF.
But why did "every guy" have to include her own son, damn it?
After a long Friday of dealing with an office full of fussy accountants, she'd come home to find Mark sprawled on the living room couch playing a video game in just running shorts and track shoes. Hot as it was, she couldn't blame him for wearing as little as possible. But seeing his powerful, nearly-naked young body shining with perspiration that way so soon after they'd been locked together in carnal bliss was too much for her. She'd slipped off her shoes and tried to pad quietly past the living room and up the stairs.
"Whatcha doing?" her son had called out to her, freezing her in her tracks.
"Going up to get changed. We should go out to dinner, tonight. Somewhere air-conditioned." Somewhere public, she thought.
Mark looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her long sleek legs. "Yeah, sure."
"How was school? You got a permanent replacement teacher, yet?" she asked nervously, trying to steer the conversation to something that he disliked in hopes he'd turn back to his game. His answer startled her.
"Really great." Mark's face lit up. "We got a sub for now, but I like her. You know her, too. It's Hel--Ms. Warner who lives up the street."
"Oh!" Carrie did indeed know Helen Warner. She'd always liked the busty brunette, although many of the neighborhood women said awful things about her. The fact that Helen didn't seem to care about other people's opinions of her and even laughed about the rumors was something Carrie admired. "Well, I'm glad. Maybe she can get enough math into your thick head for you to pass your final." Carrie said it jokingly, hoping he'd laugh it off and she could move on up the stairs.
"Yeah." Mark tossed the game controller onto the cushion beside him. "Hey, don't I get a Hello hug and kiss from my mom?"
"Mark..." Warily, she sighed and went to give him a quick peck on his forehead. As she leaned over him, too late she saw the big hard bulge stretching the front of his shorts.
"Mmmmmmmm, nice," Mark said softly as he reached out and ran his fingertips up the inside of his mother's right leg.
"Stop it!" Carrie hissed, stepping back. Tingles sparked across her swelling clit as her son took her hand and pulled her closer, his free hand continuing to fondle her upper thigh. "We're not doing that again. Not ever! I told you that."
"Oh no?" Mark said. He pulled her down into his lap and thrust his hand up under her skirt to cover her pussy mound through the thin silk of her panties. "So then how come you're all wet up in here?"
It was true, Carrie realized with a rush of horror. The sight of her strapping stud of a son lounging bare-chested in the living room had started the waterworks between her legs. Now that she was sitting right on top of his huge hard-on, her pussy was positively gushing.
Mark hooked his finger in the sopping crotch of his mother's panties and yanked, pulling them halfway down her thighs with one tug. "We gotta get you out of this sopping stuff." Before she knew what was happening he'd stood her up and was stripping her bare.
"Don't do this," she pleaded, raising her arms so that he could pull her knit top up over her head. He tossed it on the floor and held her at arm's length to watch her unsnap her bra, liberating those big, ripe knockers for his lusty inspection. All that was left was to unzip her skirt and push it down over her girlish hips while he held her tight to his own body.
When his mother was naked, Mark pulled off his shorts and kicked them away. The sudden appearance of his erect cock was too much for Carrie. She wobbled on her feet, lightheaded. Her son caught her in his heavily-muscled arms to keep her from falling to the floor in a swoon.
"Hey, sit down. Sit down here for a minute." He deposited her on the sofa where he'd been sitting, her ass settling into the depression he'd made in the leather cushion. She felt the remnants of his body's heat flow up into her pussy, turning her on even more. It was like everything she saw, heard, or touched made her want a fuck, and want it bad. What was she turning into?
Her son dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of her. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her forward to the edge of the cushion. When he spread her thighs apart and leaned in between her legs, she realized what he was going to do.
"Oh, no!" Carrie twisted in Mark's powerful grip but could not break free. The idea of her own son sucking her cunt appalled her, even as her pussy filled with still more of her cream. "Mark, baby, you can't do that. Not to your own mother!"