Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; THIS STORY HAS A ‘HARDER EDGE’ THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]
It was a night to remember, to be sure. My parents were taking me out for dinner. Now in most such cases, the parents are comfortable in their middle age so their offspring have to let ‘daddy pay’. That wasn’t the case here. It seems my poor misunderstood father, Mal, had antagonized too many employers, with his occasional drinking and excessive health care claims. Sadly, he really was sick now, though it was mostly related to drinking and related stress. Whatever the root cause, he was an ‘old’ 52, looking gaunt and even frail—and he made me pick up the check. It’s always sad when your father opens his wallet and the only things in there are a picture that came with the wallet and some bus transfers.
My mother Sue was 41. She had had to put up with a lot of anguish from her marriage. She was just old enough to be a believer in marriage, thru thick and thin. Dad, who I called her ‘old man’, had insisted that she be a housewife, even though his income stream was pathetic. They only got by with mom’s lifelong grant payments from a relative.
I had moved away from home when the clock struck ’18’ for me. It worked out great, too, as I worked my way thru college. With a BBA in management from a good business school, a large company made me the manager of their big regional office. Heady stuff for a 21 year old, but it seemed to be working. The only snafu was that my secretary had to quit.
Darlene was a gorgeous brunette whose great figure earned her a nice swollen belly. She would now be cared for by her husband when he got home from work. He was so proud of their baby. Personally, I have no idea how she got in that condition; presumably her husband did something. It certainly wasn’t me…certainly not in my office seven months ago…not during a thunderstorm when the power went out..impossible. Admittedly, we might have gotten a little carried away that day, but I distinctly remember asking her if she was on the pill. I forgot her answer, but I didn’t really care what the answer was at the time. Lord, I admit to pumping a lot of potent seed into her unprotected and oh so welcoming fertile womb. Oh, mama.
Anyway, at dinner my parents dropped ‘the bomb’ on me. With no job, dad had no health coverage. The little allowance they got from mom’s dear departed rich uncle now was not adequate. They would need my help financially. Humbling stuff, to ask your 21 year old for help.
A strange thing happened at that very moment. The pendulum, the balance of power, had transferred to me. Though we were in public, I felt like demanding he sink to his knees before me, as I grabbed his bride to be my own. I purposely dropped my napkin. I bent under the table and took a long gander at my mother’s shapely legs. Lord forgive me, but I had pined for her for so long, the prospect of it being possible finally made me stiffen. When I got back up and scouted her low cut blouse that completed the package. I got as hard as titanium, ten inches of solid metal. There was that eternal and infernal drive between men to possess the alpha female, and there was no female higher up than my lovely mother.
The reason that my gorgeous 41 year old mom had dressed so f—king hot was that they thought she might hire on as my secretary [I related to them my office ‘crisis’ due to Darlene’s resignation.] When I expressed doubts, they insisted that I give her a chance at least. I said I would give her two weeks, whereupon I would hire a temp until Darlene returned.
It was so odd to be at the office at 9am, waiting for my own mother as a subordinate employee. She arrived at 9:15am, knocked on my door, and came in. She apologized profusely, saying that she had to ‘tend to’ her old man. I was going to ‘lay the law’ on her about being on time, regardless of our relationship.
Just as I was about to say something critical, she sat down with her steno pad, folding her beautiful legs. I completely lost my train of thought. I was simply staring at her short skirt (daring for a 41 year old, some six inches above her knee) and those daring pumps (the latest fashion, just like the infobabes on cable news.) Her blouse was white, her full 36 D-cup breasts putting enormous strain on its big pink buttons. In spite of band-aids, her bra and that blouse, mom’s nipples had popped and now thrust out angrily against the micrometer thin material of that blouse.
Me: “Is it too cold in here, mom, I can turn it up?”
Mom: “No, it’s fine. Why did you ask that?”
Me: [Looking down shyly.] “Well, umm, there are certain ‘indicators’ that we men assume indicate cold in regard to women and…”
Mom: [Looking down at herself, somewhat embarrassed.] “I wish I could attribute that to the cold, but actually… Look, Jimmy, I never had the time, or the reason, to tell you about our home life, especially once you left for school. ortaköy escort Your father was never a great lover; he just wasn’t ‘equipped in that way’. Well, if you combine his natural shortcomings with being unemployed more and more, and sober less and less, his effectiveness in bed went from tolerable to laughable. As a result, I have been ‘without’ for three years now. Three years of having this figure but no lovers; three years of being fertile with no REAL man to turn to for love, affection, and perhaps that second child I always wanted. I have been so hot, so horny, so ready, if your father had ordered a pizza delivery, I would have jumped the delivery guy’s bones, right there at the door. Even now, I am so fucking horny…please forgive your tired, broken down mom, but I need it badly. I was hoping I could get thru the morning, but now…”
To my utter amazement and thrill, my conservative unobtainable mother was approaching my large executive swivel chair with an odd look on her. It didn’t appear that she wanted to discuss new orbital anomalies in the rings of Saturn; no, it appeared that she wanted me!
Well, one can imagine the force of collision between a woman totally deprived of any affection for at least three years and her musclebound, well-hung son, who considered women conquests, with his gorgeous mother as the ultimate achievement.
My aggressive mom used the back of her hand to send my desk contents flying. She climbed atop the desk after shedding her skimpy outfit, awaiting the welcome assault of her big-cocked son. I got aboard the huge cherry wood desk, the hard surface frankly painful to climb over.
I was thinking of all the romantic things I had imagined doing once this momentous day arrived. Well, in the event, with a desk as comfortable as asphalt, I just went ahead and entered my mother with absolutely no fanfare or foreplay. I didn’t know when else I might have a chance to fuck, and maybe knock up, my gorgeous mom. All I knew was I had this one golden opportunity and I wasn’t going to squander it on an ‘around the world tour’.
My oversized uncut cockhead dragged across the sensitive tissues of my MILF mother’s tight, warm, welcoming vagina.
For some reason, I began to think back about events mom and I shared now that we were finally becoming intimate.**************************
I stared at my loving mother, there beneath me. There she was, my mom…all of those kisses good night when I was young. I went to sleep so many times just hoping for a second good night peck. Then, when I was old enough to notice, there were those mornings when she only wore a diaphanous peignoir, feigning surprise that someone was up that early.
Those damn nightgowns; in the early morning darkness, the light from the fridge was like a magical x-ray, allowing me to see my beautiful mother in microscopic detail. My little blonde mother had a Barbie-doll figure almost a dream for her young son (i.e. me) gawking from the breakfast nook. Her nipples would erect like thumbs from the cold fridge air. That nightie normally ended in a frilly bell-bottom fringe, a few inches below her panties. Her tanned perfect legs were always on display, whether in trampy high slide slippers or simply on her gorgeous smooth feet, her latest choice of polish showing on those perfect little toes. Dear old mom, who always stayed up waiting to see that I got home safely from my dates. As I stare down at those sparkling blue eyes, I remember that one night. I had had a frustrating time with Sally; we were going ‘steady’ as they said in those days. She claimed to be chaste. That was noble and all, but it left me with a roaring hard-on and nowhere to go. Stumbling in at 2 am, there was my beautiful mother, her book having dropped to the floor as she nodded off. I was so hot at that moment that I went over to that couch. I quietly removed a slipper and stroked her smooth oh-so-sexy foot. I wanted to pick her up in my arms and carry her off to my room. I was ready to drag my mother off like some caveman might have, venting all of my frustrations and pent-up passion from that date into my wonderful mother. God, I was going to fuck her brains out. It was totally insane, what with her husband, my dad, only a few feet away in their room. Crazy or not, I put my arms around her sleeping form and lifted her up. Mom, in my arms! Finally! THEN, just as I was about to whisk her away for the night of my young dreams, her old man stirred in the bedroom. I quickly put her back down.
*********************************Enough reminiscing: now I was once again admiring her. This time, I was going to fulfill that dream. I grabbed her shoulders on that precarious perch, rolling her up gently so that her shapely legs bounced against my shoulders. I glanced to either side, enjoying the close-up view of mom’s perfect feet. I kissed her left foot and then went about finishing ‘our business’. Gripping her motherly behind with industrial strength, I pushed deeply inside mom’s womanly depths, otele gelen escort my ten inch cock just reaching her cervical area. I bent over and lightly kissed her. Finally, the tiny slit on my cockhead expanded to the width of a thumb. My testes, drooping in their overload of built-up seed, pulled up tight. Then, like a coiled spring, a powerful pulse went from the base to the tip of my cock. All of the love, the passion, the desire I had for my perfect mother was expressed in six lengthy gushes of my baby-making sperm. By the end of that outpouring, my balls were limp and empty, the overflow now sloshing in mom’s overfilled womb. I had fulfilled at least one dream in my life: fucking my potent seed into the fertile womb of my beautiful mother. I knew society might not look kindly upon it, but for me, that was one of my few goals. Well, loving her like that…and getting her pregnant. I should have been ashamed at those thoughts, but they were as ingrained into my mind as any others.
After we caught our breath, I noticed that the multi-line phone had two lines lit. I fielded the calls, thankful they were only waiting a few moments.
Just like my father’s request for assistance at the restaurant was an important turning point, marking my superiority over him, my love session with my new assistant (mom!) marked another one. I had actually taken the bold step of breeding my mom, the old man’s wife. I was ‘marking my territory’, showing my ascendancy to a position of dominance.
Every day we would ride to work together, one of us picking up the other. On Fridays, we would have a dinner at mom’s house, just the three of us. Neither mom nor I had the heart to tell him that mom normally rode in my car, her panties dripping with the excess semen that I had unceremoniously pumped into mom that day right after work.
Well, that arrangement could not go on forever. One Saturday I was in the basement working out on the equipment I had left at home. I felt both proud, and sad, as my withered from alcoholism father watched me building up a sweat. As I tore into that heavy swinging punching bag, mom appeared on the stairs. She looked at the two of us in stark contrast: one man old before his time due to his own weakness (the bottle)–now withered and frail. In the other corner was a young hunk (me), pounding the heavy punching bag with titanic blows from my powerful arms. When I noticed mom staring, I flexed my muscle and then hit the extremely heavy punching bag one last stupendous blow, sending it off its chains and flying against the distant wall. To mom, I was the vision of virility and physical prowess. Mom made the toughest decision she ever had to make.
Mom: “Mal, there is no good time to say this, so I will just let it out. Jim and I have been having an affair, ever since you made me go to work for him at his office.”
Mal: [Looking more disappointed than angry.] “Well, is it over; have you gotten past that?”
Mom: “I don’t think so. I have two things more to tell you that you are not going to like. One: I love Jim, and he is clearly a better man than you are…stronger, healthier, with a brilliant career just starting for him. A moment ago, when his fists sent that huge punching bag flying off its chains, while you sat there like a little boy…well that was the final thing I needed to see. So, I am moving in with him; you will have to fend for yourself. We can help out a little bit, but you would have to leave this home and move to an apartment.”
Mom: “Anyway, the last thing I have to tell you might hurt the most: Jim and I had sex quite often at that office: before work and after, during the Christmas party, we made love almost every day. We also did it in the elevator of that department store, at the stadium and even in the open at that convenience store down the street. It was 4am and we didn’t want to bother you. Throughout that time, we never used any protection; I accepted Jim’s cock bareback, because that’s the way we wanted to do it. Well, that couldn’t go on long without something happening; sure enough, I just found out that I’m pregnant. I am going to have Jim’s baby. I can’t wait to give birth for him. I know this is a terrific shock; your legally wed wife admitting to a hot affair that you precipitated by joining the two of us. Now your wife is declaring that she is pregnant by another while still married to you, and that she wants to move in with him. It will be tough at first, but this is your new reality; I am sorry.”
I stood up, walked over, and took the hand of my gorgeous mother. Right in front of him, I placed our hands on her tummy and kissed her ruby lips. We made out for a few moments as he watched. I felt bad, but we had to show him that this was his new world. I lifted mom’s blouse, bent over, and kissed her tummy. I replaced that blouse, took her hand and went upstairs. By this time, mom had spent so many weekends ‘at seminars’ that I held at my house that most of her things were already there.
Just otele gelen escort as we were about to leave for good, he irrationally thought that he could put a stop to all of this if he just ‘put mom in her place’. To that end, he grabbed my mom from behind as we were leaving.
Mal: “You ungrateful bitch; leaving me in my time of need after all the years I supported you. I will teach you the meaning of disloyalty…” [He grabbed her blouse, pulling it off in his hands.]
I was furious that HE was so ungrateful about our standing offer to help him out. As mom looked up from the floor where she had slipped as he tore off her blouse, I took his pathetic weak body under control; the alcohol that he had consumed had consumed him in turn. Now he was helpless before me. Feeling pity more than anger, I just carried him to the little couch and dumped him there. Then I scooped up my mother from the floor. I was now going to complete the romantic dragging off of my mom that I had been stopped from doing after that bad date years ago. After his attack on mom, I felt no qualms about openly kissing her as he watched. I carried her off to our already packed car, gingerly placing her on the passenger side. He dragged himself to the door to see us drive off.
We were true to our word and helped him move out of that home and into a tiny studio apartment. My mother was afraid to visit him after that incident in their former home. She was very protective of the life within her; ultrasound showed it was twins, the fetuses male.
Although we dutifully paid the rent and utilities for him, we didn’t hear much from mom’s ‘old man’ for a long while. He missed the birth of our twins. He missed the arrival into mom’s private room of those lucky boys; they were each assigned one big nipple for drawing their nourishment in the form of mom’s wonderful warm breastmilk. The babies were brought home and we all settled in. Mom was preparing to go back to work, as it had been a month now since she took leave. Our employer had a very liberal leave policy which helped. Anyway, I was at work when mom received a call from him.
Mom: “Umm, Mal, can I call you back? I’m kind of busy right now.” [She had both boys, quite a handful, as she attempted to corral them for their breastfeeding.]
Mal: “How could you!? How could you cheat on your husband, and with your own son? What did he ever have over me, really, besides youth?”
Mom: “Well, Mal, he had a large cock. It was bigger than yours, maybe three times the size. Plus, he had no problems getting hard. He wasn’t always dizzy, or ill, or worrying about his latest run-in with the highway patrol. I guess given a choice of getting manhood from the inside of a bottle or the inside of a loving woman’s fertile vagina, you chose the first, and Jimmy chose the second. I pray you both are rewarded appropriately for your choices.”
Mal: “You know what; I don’t believe this story of pregnancy, giving birth, or any of that nonsense. I think this all was a big charade just to give you two an excuse to screw me over and move in together. If I believed your story for a second, I would find you and give you and those babies the punishment that their sinful source of creation called for.”
At this point mom was exasperated and just wanted some closure. So she did a mean, but necessary, thing.
Mom: “Big charade? Well Mal, listen carefully and you will hear those two healthy, robust babies of Jim’s as they hungrily suckle my warm, sweet mother’s milk. After they fill their little bellies, I let Jim finish the rest. Hear, listen yourself.” [She put the phone right on top of the nipple so he could hear the distinctive sound of breastfeeding babies. She then heard what sounded like his phone dropping. What she didn’t know was that he was driving at the time. He wasn’t supposed to do it, but he did. The final shock of hearing those twins drinking heartily and thereby confirming with 100% clarity all that she said was too much for him. He dropped that phone but not in time. He had wandered into the on-coming lane. The driver of the semi was not hurt, thank God.]
Throughout all of the time that mom had suffered the presence of her oft drunken husband, she had almost always conducted herself with grace, charm, and civility. This disappeared at the end, though. He was increasingly nasty and unappreciative of our financial support. At the end, he blamed us for his problems which were of his own making. When he made that final threat, he had ‘crossed the line’.
That night, I was watching a ball game while mom was quietly breastfeeding the boys. Mom received a phone call. She spoke in hushed tones in the kitchen while I was absorbed by the game. After she hung up, she quietly put the boys to sleep. Then she walked up to the TV and dropped her peignoir. That was her customary offer: me…or TV? Well, the Giants could do without my support tonight.
I carried that beautiful 43 year old MILF to our marital bed (mom had gotten her maiden name back and we married in Vegas.) From that point on, mom was a hellcat in bed. She got me hard with a fabulous fellatio that stopped just short of completion, then morphed into a doggie, cowgirl, inverted cowgirl, and finally our old friend, the missionary position. At this point, I was utterly exhausted. I had to ask:
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32