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"Godddd," I groaned when he impaled me with his weapon. I laughed in joy with the slap of each frantic thrust, at the sound of his raspy breath gasping his need with each shove, thrilled to the bulge of his meaty mass inside me. My whole body rocked into the mattress. How can anybody fuck so fast? He was like a desperate prisoner returning to his cell to find his dream girl tied to his bunk. How long would she be there before they took her away?
Just as I wondered how long I could take such a shagging, he yelled out and his copious spendburst inside me. He collapsed on my back, panting hard. I allowed him only a minute.
"Did you like that?"
"God, Mom," he gasped. "That was incredible. I'll never forget it."
He still hadn't recovered his breath.
"Who said you could stop?"
I wiggled my bum and squeezed my pussy. He was still inside me.
"Keep going," I commanded.
He was only eighteen. I knew he could rise to the challenge, but could where was getting the energy, the need? Years of what I suddenly realized was boring sex? I don't know for sure. All I knew was I wanted him ... now. I pushed my ass up, bumping against him, urging him on.
"Come on," I insisted, closing my legs to increase the pressure on his cock which I could already feel stiffening to the task.
He pulled back but not all the way out and as I closed my legs tight together, he pushed, shoving al the way into me.
"That's it," I cried. "Fuck me."
He did, in long slow thrusts like he had against the back of the couch yesterday. But this time, he slowly increased his pace. Soon he lifted himself to straddle his knees on either side of me, almost sitting on me as he thrust harder and faster. Eventually, he reached forward to cup his hands over my shoulders so he could pull himself into me even harder, hips pistoningas he dug into me from behind.
He grunted with the effort. As he lifted his weight to reposition himself, I thrust my ass back into him, catching him by surprise. He seemed to like that and held himself up, moaning each time I thrust my ass back at him,impaling myself on his root, matching his moans with my own sexy womanly sounds. He shifted higher, squatting on his feet and I followed him, lifting myself to my knees, thrusting my ass up wantonly, my head still firmly buried in the bed.
We continued to fuck in desperate need. He reached down to grasp my hands and pulled them back to my hips, pulling on them to help his cock dig as far in as it could, plugging me completely. We moaned and groaned as his thrusts grew even wilder, rocking my head into the mattress. I loved it, loved the way he was taking me. Yes. Took me. He wasn't just fuckingme, he was taking me, filling his room with our guttural sounds.
We cried out together, announcing our incestuous love as he filled me again, his creamy gift squeezing out past the root of his stem, dripping as he pulled it out and wanked the dregs over my convulsing bottom and shaking thighs. He sat back on his haunches, gasping for air. I stayed as I was, head down, ass up, his cream covering my ass and thighs, dripping from my raw, puffy pussy. I lay like that with no shame so he could see what he'd done to me, to his mother, his woman.
I didn't move until we heard a car door slam in front of our house. Calmly, I climbed off Nathan's bed, put on my robe, and walked downstairs to greet my husband. Mark made several remarks about my appearance, wondering what was going on with me, dressingin a housecoat before supper and wandering around with my hair in such a mess. Was I sick, he wanted to know, because if not it was a hell of a thing for our son to see me like that.
I took Mark's words to heart and the next night, I didn't arrive home until after him.
"Where have you been?" he asked.
"Shopping," I replied. "Make reservations for dinner somewhere for the three of us. I want to go out," I said, carrying my bags upstairs.
Moments later, before Mark could finish his calls and join me in our bedroom, I came downstairs. Mark was sitting in the living room having a drink. Nathan stood just inside the kitchen doorway, out of his father's line of sight but well positioned to see me travel the entire flight of stairs. I stepped down slowly, allowing the muscles in my legs to tense nicely to show them to their best advantage. The look on Nathan's face was all the reward I needed. Mark hadn't seen me yet.
It wasn't until I neared the bottom of the stairsand Nathan whistled his appreciation that Mark looked up and saw my new dress, a very cute, sleeveless dark green number that offset my eyes and soft red hair perfectly. It was a simple dress with a high neckline but it hugged my figure closely, somehow giving the illusion of being very short yet the hem fell more than halfway to my knees. The high sandals that wrapped around my ankles matched the dress perfectly.
"So, you really want to go out, then?" Mark asked.
"Yes," I replied simply.
"I suppose I have to get dressed up if you're going like that," he muttered, looking at his watch.
"If you have to be somewhere, Nathan can takeme out," I replied tersely.
"No, no. But I'll have to be done by nine. I havea late meeting." I could tell he was lying.
"That's lots of time," I said, turning to Nathan."Please put on a nice pair of slacks, dear."
"Right away, Mom." He bounded up the stairs but I was pleased to see his reluctance to tear his eyes away from me. I don't think he'd stopped staring at me since he first saw me at the top of the stairs.
"Gregor's would be fine. They should have room." Gregor's was more than casual and fairly expensive.
"Uh, sure," Mark replied, getting up and walking toward me. "I better do a quick change, then. You look much better today, Marilyn."
"Thanks," I acknowledged his grudging compliment. "Why don't you take your own car so we don't have to worry about the time. Nathan can drive me home."
"Sure," Mark agreed, starting up the stairs.
I rode to the restaurant with Mark while Nathanfollowed in my car. We had a lovely meal and took our time in the rear booth I selected after rejecting the table near the other customers that the host initially chose for us. Mark was more attentive than usual, perhaps unconsciously competing with his son. He seemed genuinely reluctant to leave just beforenine but he had set the stage for a 'business' meeting and although hesitant I'm sure he didn't really want to back out.
"Will you order a couple of drinks before you go. I want to relax over dessert and I want Nathan to keep me company."
Mark did as I asked without complaint or even an askance look, which was a little out of character for him. He even had the thoughtfulness not to leave until the waiter haddelivered the drinks and brought our desserts, in case there was a hassle with Nathan's age.
Nathan and I had a nice time alone, I enjoying my wine and he the drinks his father had ordered. It took him fifteen minutes but he gradually edged closer to me after his father left. It was amusing to watch him innocently change his position but each time end up an inch closer to me. It was very flattering. Soon he had moved so far that he was just a few inches away, more than two feet from his original position at the center of the U-shaped booth.
Our conversation stayed on a completely platonic level and if anyone overheard us without seeing our age difference I'm sure they would have thought we'd been married forat least ten years. But there was no denying thetension in the air, a wonderful libidinous ether that seemed to surround us tightly, binding in our own little world. Maybe that was the invisible force that drove Nathan to sit so close to me.
It was only after the waiter had brought the billand we were nearly finished our second drink that I introduced an explicit reference of an even remotely sexual nature.
"Do you like my new dress, Nathan? You seemed to."
"I absolute love it. It makes you look so beautiful, and your legs look astounding. Every man here noticed when we came in."
"Nonsense," I pooh-poohed his comment, nonetheless very pleased.
"You're beautiful," he repeated.
We continued talking for awhile, in no hurry. Nathan didn't make any further references thatcould be considered inappropriate between a mother and son. He seemed to have an innate understanding that it would have been the wrong thing to do. Mark, I'm sure, would have made some kind of tacky reference about how he could hardly wait to get me home, especiallywithin earshot of the waiter or another male patron. But my son had class and I was going toreward him for it.
Outside, I didn't have to signal Nathan to open the car door for me. He guided me to the passenger side with a light touch on my arm, nothing inappropriate to be observed in public. In the car, he turned to say how much he had enjoyed dinner and that he hoped we could do it again, on our own. He didn't try to put his hand on my leg, or kiss me, but he didn't dawdle on the way home.
As I expected, Mark wasn't home. While Nathanput my car in the garage I went in the house. By the time he came in the front door, I had removed my coat and was leaning against the back of the couch waiting. As Nathan took off his coat and slipped off his shoes, I lifted each leg in turn and pulled off the sheer knee highs I was wearing. I took extra time with the second leg, knowing that I had caught his attention. As I tugged the end of the nylon off my toes, I glanced sideways at my son, flashinghim the softest, most seductive smile I could muster.
Leaning back and resting my bottom on the top edge of the couch, I widened my stance and cooed softly, "Can you unhook my neck for me before I go to bed?" I held the knee highs out behind me and dropped them onto the couch. I lifted my heels, holding myself up on the balls of my feet so the muscles in my legs would tighten and make them look sexier.
Nathan approached me but he didn't rush, which I appreciated. I knew his teenager hormones must be pushing hard, the lust in his eyes told me that, but I could also sense that he understood how much better these momentswere if you savor them. I'm sure if he was with a young girl his own age he would have given into his initial instinct and rushed in, pulling his cock out on the way, but being with a mature woman was teaching him how much more therewas to extract from each new experience.
He paused in front of me, waiting.
"Aren't you going to turn around, so I can unhook it?" he asked.
"Just reach around," I instructed, huskily.
He stepped forward, placing his feet outside ofmine so he could get close. I pushed him back.
"I want to feel you between my legs," I whispered.
As he stepped ...

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