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A Date With Mom
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
A DATE WITH MOM
(by Eros!)
(Part 1.)
My friend Tamara had told me that the only people who took out
personal ads in our local weekly were "horny yuppies with more money
than brains."
However, I had recently finalized my divorce after twenty-seven
years of marriage, and I simply didn't know how to play the modern
dating game. Besides, I could think of a lot worse things than a man
with a fat wallet, a lonely cock, and an empty head.
One advertisement called to me again and again: "Good-looking
professional, 26, who enjoys romantic encounters in dark theaters
with mature women who remember the days of candlelight and roses.
Let's share a bottle of fine, properly aged wine together and discuss
our interests."
Tamara groaned when I pointed it out to her. "Kim, you're old
enough to be that man's mother," she said as she jabbed her scarlet
fingernail at the number 26. It was true, alas. I didn't like to
remember it, but my own son was exactly that age.
"Well, he does say he likes mature women," I said.
"Kim, to a boy of 26, 47 isn't mature, it's ancient! Either that,
or he's looking for a sugar mama. Why don't you let me set you up
with my cousin Brian!"
Cousin Brian, I remembered, had hunched shoulders and looked a
decade older than his fifty years.
"No, thanks. Tamara. I think I'm going to check this one out."
I sent him a cautious note, along with a photograph that showed my
body from the neck down. Maybe I was being TOO cautious, but I wasn't
ready to have naked photos of myself circulating around town with my
real face or name attached! I reasoned that a good, long look at my
lean, well-maintained figure would he enough to tell the man what he
needed to know.
A couple of weeks passed, and then I found a note in my mailbox
telling me to drop by a certain club any Tuesday for the next month.
"I'll be the one with the silver wine bucket," he promised.
"Don't go." Tamara said. "You haven't even talked to him on the
phone. Are you crazy!"
"Look," I said. "We're meeting in a public place. I'll just steal
a look at him and if I don't like what I see, I'll leave. No worries,
right!?"
Tamara just shook her head as I shimmied into a tight white skirt
that she couldn't have worn since the summer of '67. It wasn't fair
that I had such a firm, small belly since I'd had a kid and Tamara
hadn't, but hey. That's the breaks. Anyway, I didn't need to fuss
much with my appearance. I slicked on some coral lipstick and stepped
into a pair of white, high-heeled sandals and I was ready to go.
The club was moderately crowded. I scanned several busy tables for
a minute before I saw the one in the corner where a man sat alone
with a silver bucket and a bottle of wine. Although I was looking at
him from behind, where I could see nothing but the blonde curl that
hung down like an inverted question mark from the back of his short,
thick hair. I knew it was Matthew. My own son!
Just then he turned and saw me. Our eyes met across the crowded
barroom floor. I remembered the sexy fantasies I'd had while
slithering into my tight skirt, and I wasn't willing to give up the
dream. I felt a sudden moistness in my panties as I realized how
handsome my son really was.
"Mom!" he said, getting up and coming across the floor. "What are
you doing here!"
I laughed. "Well, Matt, I guess you invited me!"
He flushed and then laughed as I explained. Somehow we wound up
tucked in the corner table, where a waiter materialized to pour the
wine. I could tell from his manner that he assumed that my son was
actually my lover, and the way I giggled when I tasted the expensive
libation did nothing to contradict that assumption.
(Part 2.)
"I didn't know you liked 'mature' women," I said to Matt after the
waiter finally left.
"I suppose I have you to thank for that." He clicked his glass to
mine. "You're a beautiful woman, Mom. Beautiful, intelligent, and
sexy. I've often wondered where I would meet a woman as fine as you."
I felt flustered. We aren't a family that's much on compliments.
Besides, Matt had suddenly slipped his hand into mine, squeezing it.
I wasn't really surprised when he then took my hand and placed it
gently in his lap so that I could feel his crotch. "Just looking at
you in that skirt has me so hard, Mom," he whispered. "I need to fuck
so bad."
"So do I," I confessed. before I could stop myself. The feel of
Matt's hard cock was like a drug on me. My pussy was moistening
rapidly. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to fuck my own son!
"I know it's wrong, Mom," me whispered. "But I want you so badly!
Maybe I always have."
He wrapped my fingers about the bulge in his pants and
instinctively I squeezed his erection. I was shocked at the size and
stiffness of his prick. I couldn't remember when I had felt a cock of
such prodigious proportions. My pussy was itching with a need to feel
it between my legs.
"Come home with me, Mom." he whispered.
My brain told me that it was wrong, but my body wasn't listening
anymore. All I wanted right then was my son's long hard cock fucking
my neglected pussy.
I didn't remember much about the ride from the club to Matt's
apartment except the speed at which the streetlights flashed past. I
had both hands inside his pants stroking his hard, throbbing cock
while he was driving, and I'm afraid that they may have provided
something of a distraction.
When we reached his apartment, soft music came on. He'd wired the
place somehow so that it did that automatically. I was surprised at
the subtle eroticism of the recording he'd chosen. I suppose I'd
expected something crude and vulgar from a younger lover, even if he
was my own son. I should have known by now that Matt was a man of
exquisite good taste. He took me in his arms and danced with me,
waltzing me around his hardwood floor. I kept hunching my hips
forward, eager to feel the hard lump in his trousers rub deliciously
against my burning pussy.
Despite his obvious desire for sex. Matt didn't rush a thing. He
was clearly the master of the show. When the song ended, he kissed
me. Not the usual mother/son peck on the lips, a long, lingering
passionate kiss that had my pussy bubbling with lust for him. He
slithered his tongue into my mouth. I sucked it gently and then a
little harder as I felt his hands drift down to unzip the back of my
tight skirt.
I tried to remember to pull off one or another of his articles of
clothing from time to time, but I was mostly letting him undress me.
I was highly aroused, burning from the thrill of surrendering my body
to the touch of my very own son.
When we were naked, I made him step back so that I could look at
his body... just look at it. He was so beautiful! His shoulders were
broad, his chest rippled with muscles, his belly flat, his hips
tapered. His cock was long and thick. I was secretly afraid that I
wouldn't be able to get all of it inside of me, but I sure as hell
was going to have a lot of fun trying.
"It's been a long time since I've had sex," I told him."I feel
like a virgin with my own son."
Matt laughed.
"Come here, Mom!"
He took me into his arms and kissed me everywhere. The track of
his wet tongue created a sensuous criss-cross pattern as it traversed
the sensitive flesh of my too-long-neglected body. I quivered,
painfully close to orgasm and yet so terribly afraid that I couldn't
take the blast of long-denied feeling, when he sealed his young lips
about the small bud of my clitoris.
"It's all right, Mom," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my
pussy hair. "It's all right. Let go and enjoy. I'm going to make you
feel so good."
(Part 3.)
He opened his mouth wider, so that he could simultaneously move
his tongue down to my cuntslit while he continued to suck gently on
my clitty button. I bucked my hips up in total abandon. Having my
handsome young son eating my cunt like this was so deliciously dirty
I knew I wouldn't last long before I came all over his tongue. My
knees wobbled. I wasn't going to be able to remain standing if he
insisted on giving me much intense pleasure.
But Matt was way ahead of me. Standing up, he took me by the hand
and led me back to his bedroom. I'd never been there before, never
stolen a glimpse at the masculine darkness of his heavy antique
four-poster and black satin sheets. I felt as if I were going to bed
with a stranger as my son tenderly lay me down and spread my thighs,
eyeing of my juicy-wet cuntslit like a starving man.
"I want to suck you too, baby," I finally said, remembering the
incredible hardness of that wonderfully large cock of his. I was
still afraid that I couldn't handle all of it, but I desperately
wanted to try.
Matt turned around on top of me and planted his knees on either
side of my face before returning his lips to my pussy. It was the
classic sixty-nine position, something his father hadn't much cared
for. My son's lingual enthusiasm was infinitely better than my
husband's dutiful slurps.
God, it was so intoxicating to be sucking on a prick that belonged
to a man who was simultaneously licking out my pussy! That combined
with the fact that the tongue in my cunt belonged to my own son, to
me, was the ultimate turnon. I'd never been so aroused in my life!
As I sucked his long, hard cock deep into my mouth, I felt the
deep stirrings of a long-delayed orgasm. I was so afraid that I was
going to explode right into my son's face. But how could I hold back
when he slipped his tongue that extra inch inside of me and pressed
hard on some secret erogenous zone I had no idea I even possessed!
I'd meant to show a fraction more control, but it was hopeless. I
erupted in my first tongue-generated climax in a decade.
When he realized that I was cumming, Matt actually grew more
excited. I suppose he could have forced himself to re-double the
speed of his cartwheeling tongue, but he couldn't have faked the
sudden extra dose of steel-hard stiffness in the prick he was
hunching into my mouth.
My son was honestly aroused by the sweet, sticky taste of his own
mother's cum. My own tongue had gotten a little clumsy because I had
to keep gasping for breath around the thick plug of Matt's
overstuffed cock. Suddenly, he went rigid above me. I recognized the
signs instantly and reached up to grab his cute butt, pulling him
down so that he could shoot all that lovely hot sperm deep into my
throat.
We rested quietly for s few minutes in that position, my son's
half-hard cock still between my lips. I savored one of my favorite
sexual treats, a treat I'd almost forgotten over the years.... the
feeling of a man's prick getting hard again. It would probably be
difficult for anyone except another woman to understand how
powerfully excited it made me feel to know that I had my own son's
cock swelling in my mouth at the simple touch of my tongue.
"I want to fuck you, Mom," Matt whispered.
I hated to let his cock slip from my mouth for even so much as a
fraction of a second, but I knew that he wanted to hear me say it.
"I want it too, son," I told him."'Please, Matt. Fuck your
mother's hot pussy! Fuck me good!"
He raised his big, masculine body from mine long enough to turn
himself around into the proper position between my open thighs. I
lifted my legs up and wide as I took him in the classic missionary
position. The hairy, swollen lips of my pussy trembled as I felt the
head of his massive cockhead start to spread them open. Was I woman
enough to take a man like this! My own son was hung like a stud horse
and I was to be his filly. Would my poor, neglected cunt stretch as
much as it needed to! Or would Matt split me in two with his
incredibly thick weapon.
(Part 4.)
"It's alright, Mom," Matt whispered, sensing my fear. "I know that
I'm larger than average, and definitely much bigger than Dad, so
let's just take it slow and easy."
His voice was a soothing sing-song that relaxed me like he was
hypnotizing me. My pussy stretched a little more and Matt slipped
another inch inside of me. He never hurried. No matter how desperate
I grew, no matter how wildly I rubbed my heels against his broad
back, no matter how madly I whimpered into his ears, he took me a
tantalizing inch at a time. It was the technique that another man
might have used to fuck a woman's asshole, entering me so slowly that
I couldn't help but open wide as my muscles ached to pull him in
more.
"Fuck me, Son! Fuck me, Matt! Don't hold back. Give me the whole
thing!"
And then he'd done it. I felt the head of his massive cock rubbing
sensuously at the back wall of my swamp-wet pussy while my trembling
pelvis squirmed against the flat muscle of his hard belly. The entire
length of my son's incredible prick was buried inside of me!
My cunt was full, fuller than it had ever been before and it felt
wonderful. I moved with him as Matt began to fuck me with a slow,
steady rhythm. I was being fucked by my own son! My own son's cock
was pumping in and out of my cunt, my little boy's prick was
stretching me, filling me, making my clit tingle and throb with the
promise of orgasms like I'd never experienced before.
Matt had the consummate control that I would expect, and yet had
never received from a much older man. I quickly discovered that I
could buck and jerk my hips beneath him as violently as I wished,
letting myself surrender to orgasm after orgasm without restraint.
My son just kept pumping away, and there was never a moment when I
had to be afraid that he'd come too soon. The satin sheets were a
soaking wet swamp that smelled strongly of jism and cunt-juice when
we finally collapsed, my son's happy prick still inside of me.
"Jesus, baby! Who taught you how to fuck like that!" I asked.
sighing deeply.
"I guess you did, Mom, since I've never fucked like that before."
His tongue stroked the curve of my ear, and I felt my belly
quiver. I wanted him again! I wanted my son to fuck me till I
dropped! Soon, soon, we would be entwined in yet another deliciously
incestuous fuck. I reached for his cock and looked up into his eyes.
"How long can you keep this thing hard, darling", I husked, "Mommy
wants to fuck you all night long."
Matt slipped two fingers into my juicy, wet slit and rubbed my
clit, a devilish grin on his handsome young features. His cock was
growing in my hand.
"Why don't we find out," he smiled, finger-fucking my hot hole. "I
don't think you'll be disappointed, Mom."
When I slipped away from his bed at dawn, I felt a pleasant ache
deep in my pussy, but I was totally satisfied. He HAD fucked me all
night, in every possible position, and in every possible orifice.
Some I'd secretly longed to try, like getting a cock up my ass for
the first time, and some I'd never even heard of, although Matt had
obviously perfected them on some lucky young girl.
My son was a wonderful lover, undoubtedly the most talented I'd
ever had, and I knew that despite the fact that he was my own son, I
simply had to continue the relationship we'd started. After sampling
my son's talented young prick I was certain that I wouldn't be able
to do without it for a single night.
At work, Tamara smirked when she asked me how my date had gone.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," I said. "The guy turned out to be
my own son!"
She laughed. "Can I say 'I told you so!'"
"Go ahead! Say it." I said putting on a sad face.
But I was smiling a secret smile. Tamara never suspected for a
second that I spent a night of unbridled fucking and sucking with my
own son!
I wonder if I should tell her?
THE END
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