Chapter 7
Myra's knees were pulled back, almost touching her huge tits, and widely parted, exposing the whole, heavily haired delight of her wide-spread pussy to her son's wild stare. In this position, her ass was- rolled back and the cheeks parted, showing him her wet, puckered asshole. The tiny pink ring was nestled deep in her plump ass and winked in time to his mother's fingerings.
"Ohhhhhhh, ahhhh," Myra groaned again as she hunched her hungry pussy up to swallow two fingers. They disappeared into the protruding, mouth-like pinkness of her plump-lipped cunt with a wet, squishy sound. Mark saw her inner thighs flex.
Her fingers plunged into the center of her hairy cunt, digging into her juiced-up pussy. Mark was going out of his mind with lust. This was the best birthday present ever! If she'd thought seeing her naked in the bathroom had made him happy, she had never considered the exalted peaks his happiness could reach!
Even her bed was bouncing—she was fucking back at her fingers so hard. Mark couldn't tear his eye away from that shaggy, thick mound of chestnut-colored hair that was being so enthusiastically penetrated. For the first time in his life, the young boy heard the wet sounds of a fucking pussy and the cries of a shamelessly aroused woman. That the woman was his mother only increased the boy's excitement.
Myra's cunt hair was not only thick, it stood up high on her plump pussy mound. Stray, curling brown hairs clustered at the creases of her thighs, also, but Mark could see that her heavy growth tapered off before reaching her asshole. From this distance, her ass looked hairless, and he dreamed about someday getting close enough to know for certain.
He could see her juice frothing up from her plunging fingers, and the thought that he'd been born down between those plump thighs and exited from her pink, hairy pussy made the sight all the more exciting. All that clear, bubbly juice was flowing over her pink folds and sliding down the cheeks of her bouncing ass to puddle on the bed. Mark licked his lips.
Myra, unaware that her young son was watching her as she masturbated so furiously, moaned and whimpered again and again, squirming lewdly, her hips gyrating, flinging her ass and cunt toward the keyhole. Mark had never been nearer to rape. It was almost as if his mother was asking for it, he thought, then realized that in reality she was. She wouldn't finger herself if she had a cock.
Mark's whole body, not just his fist, thrust back and forth as he jerked off, mentally imagining his mother squirming lewdly under him. It wasn't her fingers, but his fat, glistening cock running in and out of her hungrily gulping cunt, and she was gasping for him. Oh, Jeez, how he wished he could run into her bedroom, throw himself on her, shove his cock into that pretty pink pussy and pump his boiling j ism into her!
Myra's legs hung in the air, her feet dangling as she finger-fucked herself with one hand and shoved one heavy, creamy tit up to her mouth with the other. Mark saw his mother's full lips part hungrily and close over the large lump of her nipple. Her cheeks hollowed and he knew she was sucking on that hot, sexy-looking bump. That her tits were large enough to reach her mouth had never occurred to Mark before, and he realized that he had a lot to learn about not only fucking, but the way women jerked off.
The bedsprings were creaking, now, keeping time to his mother's shaking body, and her wild moans filled the room. He'd never heard such sounds before and he wondered if this was the hardest she'd ever jerked off.
"Awwwwww," Myra groaned loudly, and Mark watched as her free hand left her tit— which she still kept locked between her lips— and reached down to her ass.
"Oh, shit!" he breathed as he watched her fingers run up and down the deep crevice of her ass, probing for the dimple of her asshole. When his left eye began to water, he quickly switched to his right. Myra's middle finger was rubbing and prodding the tiny, winking hole between her ass cheeks, and he noticed that her pussy-plugging fingers were slowing down as she investigated her wet pucker.
He heard his mother grunt suddenly, and saw that the very tip of her finger was digging into the soft, rubbery ass ring. His own asshole sympathetically tightened as he saw her squirming her finger around to loosen the sphincter before drilling even deeper.
Myra's face was really red as her fingers pumped her pussy and attacked her asshole. The sight of that tight-looking, rubbery opening being ravished by his own mother's finger shocked the boy more than her tit-sucking and masturbating had. He wished he'd thought of checking Sally's asshole out yesterday, and made a mental note to try the next time he got her alone.
Mark's cock was oozing great amounts of pre-cum as he rubbed its throbbing length. He imagined it wasn't his fist, but his mother's cunt or asshole that was wrapped around his prick. So what if she was his mother? She was the sexiest woman he'd ever seen and he knew he could make her happy if she'd give him the chance.
He perked up, hearing her breathing more heavily. She was squirming and grunting and whining louder than ever, her mammoth tits heaving like crazy. Her ass humped high to meet,her fingers. The heavy curls surrounding her dripping cuntlips and swallowed fingers trembled as if a stiff breeze were blowing over them, and Mark remembered how soft and mushy and hot Sally's nearly hairless pussy had felt. His mother's cunt would feel so much better!
Myra's mouth opened and her spit-sliekened nipple popped free to quiver stiffly in the air. She rammed her fingers in and out of her clinging cunt harder and faster, and twisted and curled the one in her ass, "Yeahhhhh! Huhhh-h-h-h! Awww-w-w!" she cried as her legs kicked wildly and her whole body trembled. She arched her back and squeezed her cunt around her fingers as hard as she could, then sank back, completely exhausted.
Mark stared as Myra clamped her thighs around her fingers, leaving them inside her hair-covered cunt while her "whole lower body throbbed with satiation. But the moment of exquisite bliss passed much too quickly, and Myra finally pulled her fingers from her hot, clinging asshole and her sloppy cunt. She rolled over, burrowing her head into the pillows, and then reached down to tug a sheet up over her wide, quivering ass.
"Shit!" Mark cursed as the sight of her twin, white ass cheeks and juicy-shiny flesh was cut off. His cock throbbed worse than ever in his hand.
Now that the spectacle was over, the horny boy decided to masturbate in comfort. He felt like cumming all over his mother's door, but controlled the urge. Instead, he went into his own room and lay down on the bed. His balls hung out, caught in the crease of his thighs, and his long, fat cock pulsated skyward.
Not far away, Myra roused herself from an orgasm-induced lethargy and sat up. What was that? Then she heard the faint creaking of springs and realized that Mark must be jerking off in bed! She couldn't suppress the wave of lustful excitement that washed over her at the thought of seeing that beautiful fat cock again. Quickly, without bothering to dress, she crept toward his half-open door.
Her eyes widened, sparkling happily as she peered around the corner. Mark's long, fat-shafted, bulbous-knobbed cock was thrusting three-quarters above his gripping fist! That broad, mushroom-shaped cock knob that she remembered so well was a bright, shiny purplish-red, and was gleaming wetly from what appeared to be gallons of pre-cum. His whole fist was dripping and his balls were coated. She could even see the tip, where his gaping piss-slit drooled out more of the slippery stuff!
The hot-assed mother licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. It would be so easy to just rush in and plunge her mouth over his delicious-looking prick! Oh, if only he wasn't her son! she thought, if only she could squat over him and shove his husky prick up her creamy cunt! Shit, she'd only just cum and still the sight of Mark's enormous prick was making her cunt burn and throb again!
Her big tits pulled heavily at her chest as she leaned forward, peering around the edge of the door. She lifted a hand to rub their nipples while she peeked at her masturbating son. What a stud he was!
The boy's fist slid up and down his well-greased cock faster and faster, making his plump nuts bounce. He was lifting his ass up as his fist slid down, and Myra felt her cunt tighten. The way those round, rosy balls were drawing up, she knew he was going to cum, soon. She remembered how much he had shot last night, and how hot it had felt against her skin.
"Huh-h-h-h ..." Mark groaned.
Then his massive cock jumped in his fist and a thick glob of white jism blew two feet into the air, followed by four or five smaller, but still sizable, cum-wads. They fell like kernels of white popcorn all over his thighs and crotch.
"Ohhhhh, Mommmmm . . . " she heard him moan as he milked his still-fat prick lazily, forcing out a few watery, sticky strings over his knuckles.
Myra's mouth was drier than ever and her hand was frozen over one big tit. Had she heard right? Trembling with lust, she forced herself to turn away and head for her bedroom. Oh, God, she thought, he was thinking of me when he came? And then she wondered how she'd ever be able to control her evergrowing urge to seduce him. The thought of Mark fucking her with that horse-cock of his made her cunt loosen and grow heavy again. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to have him squirting his jets of hot cum against the back of her cunt, and failed. Bob hadn't cum like that since the early years of their marriage!
She closed her door and slowly dressed, her mind half-numb with what she'd seen and heard. She knew that if she didn't keep a tight rein on herself, she'd someday commit the ultimate sin with her own son. She knew she didn't have the willpower to keep from spying on him when he jerked off, and in the back of her mind was the memory of how it had felt to masturbate him. Maybe she could get away with it again ...
After Mark cleaned up, dressed and left his bedroom, he found his mother back at the martini pitcher. He knew she'd never used to drink alone, or so early, and figured his father was the cause. He sat down across from her and momentarily saw her as she had been an hour earlier—naked and squirming with abandon. It made his face burn.
Myra saw her son blush and look uncomfortable, and took another drink. "Why don't you go out and play with some of your friends?" she asked, hoping to take temptation away for a while.
"Oh, well, you know, they ask things about Dad. Like, why wasn't he at the party, and things like that. Besides, I'd rather sit with you."
Myra finished her fourth drink. She hadn't thought about how Mark was being affected by the problems she and Bob were having. Oh, when he missed the party, yes, but the long-term, daily effects on his relations with other children had never occurred to her.
"Mom, what's wrong with Dad?"
Myra tried to gather her thoughts. "Well, Mark, I-I think your father and I have grown away from each other. It happens, sometimes. Instead of growing closer, some people grow apart. It's not that he doesn't love you. He does, I know he does. But I think he doesn't love me the way he used to . . . I mean, I think he still loves me, but, well, more as your mother and as a friend than as a wife." She took another drink.
"But why?"
"I-I don't know, Mark. He wasn't always like this. H-he used to be so romantic," she mumbled, as if to herself. "Dated me every day, every day ..." She roused herself, took another sip and settled back on the couch. "So exciting," she said, as if she'd never interrupted herself. "I was so nervous, but he was gentle, so gentle. Always rubbed my back before we went to bed. Helped me relax. Used to do it, rub my back. I love that, love having my back rubbed, but never again!" And she began to sob.
"Mom! Mom!" Mark cried. "Come on, don't cry."
But Myra was too far gone into the past for her son's voice to register. "Oh, Bob, Bob! Rub my back, won't you, please?"
Mark saw that his mother's eyes were closed as she slurred her drunken plea. Then he heard her moan and saw that her fingers were fum-bling with her skirt, tugging down the zipper at the side and desperately trying to slide the material down her body.
"Mom, it's Mark," the boy said, rushing to her side and taking hold of her shoulders.
Myra's plump ass was grinding in circles on the cushion, and she lifted it, trying to shove her skirt down. Mark felt his cock stiffen with forbidden excitement as his mother, in her alcoholic dream, confused him with his father and began stripping.
"Ohhhh, my back is so tight, Bob, don't tease, don't make me wait. C'mon, rub it for Myra!"
"L-let me do itr Mom," Mark said loudly, hoping to break through her drunken dream. "It's Mark! Let me rub your back!"
"M-Mark?" Myra slurred. "Y-you don't know how, you're only a little boy. It takes a man to rub my back, to relax me."
"Come on, Mom, I can do it! Let me try!" And he finished unzipping her skirt for her. When he tugged, she lifted her wide ass and he practically tore it from her body.
"The bed, my bed," Myra said, attempting to rise.
Mark got his arm around her waist and helped her up, noticing that she was braless from the way her blouse heaved and rippled. The two of them slowly made their way to her bedroom. Mark was breathing heavily from excitement. He had no idea that a back rub meant more to his mother than the words suggested, but just the thought of massaging her flesh was enough to make his heart—and his pecker—pound.
As she half-stumbled, half-walked, he turned his head and looked down at the round, heavy cheeks of her ass trembling under her panties. The two creamy, meaty ass cheeks wobbled with every step and her panties were thin enough for him to see the shadow of his ass crack. He shivered with lust and, when he noticed that his mother's eyes were still closed and that she was still in some dream world, he quickly pulled out his hard prick.
Finally they were in her room. Mark stared at her huge tits, like twin volleyballs as they swayed and jounced with her movements. His hand slid from her waist, as if accidentally, and mashed into the side of one big tit. Jeez, he thought, feeling its warmth jiggle liquidly at his touch, what tits she's got!
As if sleepwalking, Myra located her bed and stretched out face down on it. "Nice and easy, Bob," she mumbled. "Take your time, rub me slow."
"Mark, it's Mark!" her son said, hurriedly straddling her with his knees on either side of her hips. His cock jutted, hard and livid and thickly curved, over her spine, and a bulbble of pre-cum appeared at the tip of its fat knob.
"Mmmmmm, Mark, what're you doing?" she mumbled as he leaned forward and began massaging the back of her neck and the tops of her shoulders.
"Rubbing your back, Mom, remember? Don't you want a back rub?"
Some of the sense of the words penetrated Myra's drunken haze. Back rub, yes, she wanted her loving young son to give her a back rub, but it was wrong. Wasn't it? Her muddled mind felt his warm hands kneading her soft flesh, and it felt good, sooo good. She relaxed, luxuriating in her son's talented hands, gentle hands, rubbing her, touching her, taking care of her ...
He brushed the soft, bulged-out flesh of one huge tit briefly, through her blouse, but she said nothing. Then his hands were under her blouse, massaging her back directly.
"Ummm-m-m-m," Myra groaned. "M-maybe you'd better stop, honey," she mumbled.
"No, no, I can do it!" Mark pleaded. "It feels good, doesn't it?"
"Good," she repeated sleepily, "but you shouldn't, you're . . .not Bob?''
Mark continued to manipulate his mother's soft, warm flesh, gradually working lower.
From time to time Myra sighed, murmuring how good his liands were making her feel. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing his cock and jerking off all over her.
"Lower, Bob," she finally mumbled. When Mark saw that if his hands went any lower they'd be rubbing her ass, he didn't correct her mistake. Let her think I'm Dad, she'll never know!
She was squirming contentedly even before Mark's palms slid onto the hot, fleshy mounds of her panty-clad ass. Mark rolled her sexy, spongy ass cheeks around, digging his fingers into them and kneading as he'd never kneaded before. He was even more excited by the knowledge she was enjoying his touch. She was breathing faster, and her sighs were turning into little moans of pleasure. He wasn't sure, but he thought she might be grinding her pussy into the bed.
Myra smiled groggily. Bob had never been so enthusiastic a masseur before. She loved it. "Mmmmm, nice," she breathed.
"like that, Mom?" Mark said, rolling her ass cheeks with glee.
Mom? Myra felt a little warning hell ring in her head and wondered where Bob had gone. Mark? Her handsome young son? Was he the one rubbing her back? Ohhh, she had to tell him to stop. But it felt so good . . . let him do just a bit more. Then she thought about her ass. Why, that's an awful thing for a boy to be doing—especially to his mother!
"Ummmm, Mark," she mumbled. "No, we mustn't ..."
Mark didn't answer, he just kept kneading and squeezing his mother's ass cheeks. Soon, her moans were louder, and her wide hips began to circle. Mark tried to match the rhythm, and then took the bold step of sliding his fingers under the leg band of her panties and cupping her bare ass cheeks directly.
"Ohhhhh," Myra said, wondering if she ought to be embarrassed. His hands were on her ass, under her panties, but they were such nice hands. He was making her feel so good!
Mark slowly pulled his hands from under her panties and then hooked his trembling fingers in their waistband and began pulling them down. Myra moaned drowsily and rubbed her belly against the bed. Then she felt the smooth nylon of her panties being tugged away.