My son, Lucas, was heading off to college. It was a relatively cool August day, by Austin standards, in the low 90s. Lucas, and my husband Cody and I, were building up a sweat loading our big Lexus SUV. The front passenger seat and the cargo area behind the back seat were already stuffed full of moving boxes. Lucas and I were trying to fit a big framed acrylic painting my son had done, on the floor of the back seat. It was a seemingly abstract painting where, if you looked long enough, you'd suddenly see a nude with olive skin and slim thicc curves. Which, coincidentally, is an accurate description of me. I'm short, five feet even, with large breasts and an even more curvy booty.
I've had unsolicited comments by many men that I'm a good looking woman, especially for being in my mid-30s. And if you've done the math on that... well, I don't recommend following my lead and being a pregnant teenager. Especially with a handsome but integrity challenged man who, I belatedly discovered, viewed our marriage vows as more of a guideline than a strict rule. As in, recently finding out he was cheating on me with what I had to assume, knowing his character, was a barely legal girl who likely needed fake ID to buy liquor. Basically, a potential trophy wife to recapture his youth.
My husband hadn't even done me the courtesy of being discreet, and then had compounded it by lying to me - while I was smelling a perfume I've never worn, the scent of her pussy, and the unmistakable odor of recent sex. Having your man tell you he's not cheating even though he smells of The Other Woman's cunt, because he doesn't grasp that you're smarter than him and have a much better sense of smell, is not conducive to a loving relationship.
The lying is arguably worse than the infidelity -- if he had had the cojones to fess up and end that affair, I might have forgiven him, since I inexplicably still love the cheating bastard. Because he'd doubled down on lies, the frequency with which we'd had sex in the tumultuous week since, had plummeted to Not At All. He wasn't particularly interested anyway, what with having a younger girl to fuck. And I wasn't inclined to be his backup side chick, what with having self-respect and all.
********************
Cody stared at the painting taking up most of the floor space behind the front seats, and obstructing the SUV's view to the rear. "That can't go. I gotta see traffic behind me."
The first rule of parenting is Make It The Kid's Problem To Solve. My husband being a large manchild, I applied that principle: "That's the only place it'll fit. And if we don't take it, you're gonna pay hundreds of dollars to ship that painting."
"Then it stays home."
Lucas had come out with the last armful of boxes, which he was wedging into the seating area behind the painting. "My painting, dad. It's coming with me."
"That painting cuts off most the legroom in the back. We'd only have one usable seat back there. Where's your mom gonna sit?"
"Mom doesn't weigh much. How about it, mom? You mind sitting on my lap?"
"Umm... I guess that's OK? Don't see another way to get everything in the truck."
"Hell no," Cody said. "I'm gonna clear everything off the front seat, and whatever doesn't fit in the car we leave behind. That way you can sit up front with me."
"Do you really think I want to talk to YOU for four hours, considering? I'll hang out with my son."
Lucas' eyes darted back and forth, trying to figure out the contentious discussion between Cody and me. Then his eyes went wide. He's a smart kid. Figured it out.
Before Cody could reply, Lucas said, "Dad. What the hell?"
"I... uhhh--"
"Dad. Just don't. No excuses. And we ain't leaving my stuff here. Mom sits in the back seat with me."
"Fine." His look said it wasn't fine at all, but he desperately didn't want to have that awkward discussion with his kid.
Lucas was still giving Cody a 'Have You Lost Your Damn Mind' look.
"We all smell pretty ripe," I said, changing the subject. "Let's all take showers, and then hit the road so we can arrive before it gets dark."
********************
My shower didn't take long. Four hours is a long time to sit on someone's lap, so I wanted to wear something comfortable - jeans would be too tight. I looked in my closet, then tried on a magenta cotton sundress with thin shoulder straps, and bright red silk underwear. Cute. Not gonna work with a bra though - those spaghetti straps left too much of the bra showing. I took off the dress, removed my bra but left the panties on, and put the sundress back on. I looked in the mirror. Looked kinda hot and naughty with my big breasts -- feature, not a bug, I decided. Make Cody realize what he was missing. The dress was short, ending at mid-thigh.
Hell yeah. You've still got it, girl.
I heard a quick tap of the car horn outside. I took my time heading to the car -- Cody ain't the boss of me, especially after fucking some random tart. I set the alarm and locked the front door.
Lucas was already in the back seat. I sat on his lap and swung my legs into the car. My short dress rode up pretty high, so I tugged it down as much as I could. My son was wearing stylish French Blue shorts and a black t-shirt. He's a tall kid, athletic and tanned and good looking, with light brown hair and green eyes. He looked quite a lot like his father did at that age, except Cody had a lighter complexion, with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
Those college girls are gonna looove Lucas, I thought.
I could feel the back of my bare legs being tickled by the hair on my son's muscular bare legs. "Are you comfortable?" I asked Lucas.
"It's fine, mom. You don't weigh much."
"You gonna use flattery like that with all those college girls?"
"Damn straight," he said. "It's worked great so far. I --"
"Annnd... TMI."
I looked over the top of the painting at my husband's face. The painting was blocking the view between the two front seats, so we could only see each other from the neck up. "Do you have enough legroom to drive?" I asked him.
"Sure," he answered. "Are you gonna be comfortable, sitting like that for four hours?"
I wriggled around on my son's lap. "Yeah. It's a tight fit, but it'll do." I grabbed a pillow that had been wedged in the back of the car and placed it between us, against Lucas' torso. Then I wiggled partly to the side and rested my head against Lucas' pillow-clad right shoulder, snuggling up. My forehead rested against his warm cheek. I breathed in the scent of his skin mingled with the woodsy cologne he had dabbed on. He smelled sooo good. It felt comforting to cuddle up against his tall body. I closed my eyes. "Kinda worn out. Think I'll try to nap."
Cody fired up the car, backed out of the driveway into the quiet residential street, and took off, the powerful engine quietly rumbling as he accelerated. He tapped the radio controls on the steering wheel until he got to Nirvana's "Come As You Are" playing on the local indie hipster college station.
I started to feel something a bit stiff pressing against my butt. I wriggled around to get comfortable, but that only made it harder.
Hunh. How big is that going to get? Does Lucas think I can't feel it between my cheeks? I opened my eyes to take a peek.
My dress had risen up while I wriggled, enough for my lacy red panties to peek out. I wondered if Lucas could see that. I thought about tugging my dress down to cover my panties, but realized I was getting a bit of a thrill from having my dress hiked up.
I'm so horny. Jesus, just a week without sex, and it's turning me into a bad mom. I really need to jill off when I get home. Fuck. I'm getting wet.
I opened my eyes wider and, looking up, raised my eyebrows at Lucas.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, his sexy deep voice rumbling, "Sorry. Can't help it. Do you want dad to turn around and go home?"
Mmm, I thought. Feels so good.
"I guess it's OK," I whispered back, trying to keep my voice nonchalant despite my rising libido. "Teenaged boys - you can't help it. Do YOU want to go back?"
"No. It's innocent, yeah?"
"Mmm-hmm," I whispered, trying to keep from moaning. "Totally."
Fortunately my husband couldn't see how high my dress was, or how aroused I was getting, or he'd pull a screeching U-turn and head home, protests from the back be damned.
I felt my son's hands on my panties, gently pushing me up. "I... uh... gotta get my johnson free," he whispered. "Kinda hurting, being bent."
Johnson? I thought. Do the yutes still use that euphemism?
I raised my booty enough so he could adjust himself. He smoothly moved the back of my dress out of the way. That left his prick nestled against the cleft of my cheeks and touching my lower back, with only the cotton of his shorts and the silk of my panties between us. "That's better," he murmured.
Damn, I thought. How big IS he? I closed my eyes. "Mmm," I murmured. "Sleepy."
His hands remained under my dress, very still, but continuing to hold the sides of my big booty through the lacy silk of the panties. As if I wasn't gonna notice the polished maneuver where he'd got my dress out of the way and his hands on my butt. Like he'd practiced this bold tactic on plenty of dates.
I kept my eyes closed, giving him plausible deniability, since his warm hands on my booty felt really good after a week of not allowing my husband to touch me.
I must have drifted off. I woke up and felt Lucas oh so cautiously squeezing my big sexy buns. The pillow must have slipped off while I napped, so I was resting directly against Lucas' hard athletic torso, which was radiating heat like a furnace. I wondered how long he'd been slyly feeling me up, but I didn't react, feigning I was still asleep. My pussy had reacted, though. It was slick and wet from the delicious touching.
His squeezing slowly got bolder. He eventually slowly slid his hands forward along the outside of my buttocks and then thighs, his hot skin sending little electric jolts into my brain, until his hands rested mid-thigh on my bare skin. He gave an affectionate squeeze, then slid his thumbs toward the inside of my thighs and the cleft of my legs.
I stirred a bit in my 'sleep', then shifted on Lucas' lap until my thighs were 'accidentally' parted more. I took a peek through barely slitted eyes at the rear view mirror up front.
My husband's eyes glanced back occasionally, ostensibly checking traffic through the narrow tunnel he'd cleared through the boxes in the back. But, he'd tilted the mirror so his right eye could meet mine when he looked back. Which meant, despite the seat back obscuring his view behind, he could see the right side of our faces over the top of the painting, unless we scootched to the left toward the door. But mostly he kept his eyes on the road, and appeared oblivious to the sensuous seduction behind him.
I closed my eyes again. Lucas took advantage of the opening of my thighs to slide his thumbs deeper into the valley of my legs, then slowly moved them up my inner thighs, barely touching my panties. He teased me, trailing his thumbs along the outside of my panties, not quite touching my trimmed pussy hair.
I was having a difficult time not moaning, and despite my best efforts to be still I felt my hips swaying a tiny bit side to side. Lucas reciprocated by bumping his hips forward a fraction, pushing his stiff cock deeper toward the cleft of my butt. The layers of intervening fabric - my panties and his shorts - stretched and resisted his progress forward, protecting me against my arousal and the rising need to feel his stiffness sliding deeper between my buns.
The hell with it, I thought. I kept my eyes closed in case my husband glanced back, still pretending to sleep, but I rested my hands on the top of Lucas' warm hands.
I felt him freeze, now that I had removed the pretense that this was entirely innocent. I began rubbing the top of his hands, gently at first then more insistently, covertly taking revenge on my cheating husband. I grasped his hands and moved them oh so slowly upwards, guiding him, letting him know my needs. He didn't resist, instead gently pressing his lips into the curly black hair covering the back of my neck, giving me a quiet thrill from the intimacy of that touch.
I guided his hands up, under my dress, his hands gliding over my bare smooth skin. His thumbs bumped into, then over, the slight crease of skin where my full thighs met my gently curved belly. He let me tease him by slowly moving his hands up along my torso, journeying toward my full breasts. I stopped when his thumbs were stroking the soft embrace of the underside of my large breasts. The curvy ripeness of a mature woman, not the flatness of a skinny teen girl whose breasts still defied gravity instead of being deliciously shaped by it.
I released his hands, to let him decide. I felt him relax, his body no longer tensed against me from indecision. Accepting the offer of my body.
He paused, presumably to check he wasn't being watched in the rear view mirror, then kissed my left earlobe -- the one my husband couldn't see -- and breathed hotly into my ear, with a low moan of passion.
His hands began to roam over my breasts, touching and squeezing and feeling their weight. I felt a jolt run through me as his fingers rubbed then twisted my nipples until they were hard. He was hard further below also, his hips humping into mine as I pushed back with my butt, my eyes still closed to maintain the illusion of propriety when Cody glanced back.
Lucas' right hand continued to explore my nipples and breasts, but his left hand journeyed back down until his fingers touched the top of my panties, pausing. Waiting for consent.
I took his left hand and guided it inside my panties, onto the trimmed pubic hair. He left his hand there, still waiting for direction. I parted my thighs a little more and guided him to my soaking wet pussy.
I heard him stifle a moan. His hand gingerly slid down my slippery pussy lips, and I reflexively arched forward against the delicious pressure. His hands stopped, one cupping my pubic mound below, one cupping my breast above, like he was either indecisive about doing more, or just inexperienced about how to pleasure a woman like this. I guided his thumb to my clitoris and showed him how to touch it.
Oh god it felt so good inside my body, my nerves thrumming, electrons charging around and stimulating an endorphin rush inside part of my head, flooding me with dopamine and oxytocin. Another part of my head struggled to accept what a naughty bad mom I was being.
My body jolted involuntarily when he slid a finger inside my wet pussy, shoving it deep inside. And, apparently being more skilled about this than he had let on, touched my G-spot.
I fought to maintain control over my facial expression as my hips humped and weaved and embraced the magic presents he was giving me with his touch.
His right hand slipped down my waist and then cupped my ass, gently nudging me up. I raised my buttocks off the seat an inch or so, consenting, and Lucas hooked a thumb on the right side of my panties and tried unsuccessfully to pull them down. I hooked the left side of my panties, and together we pulled them down to my knees. I pressed my thighs together, trapping his finger inside my pussy, and then gravity took over and my panties fell down to my ankles. I freed my feet from the lacy silk, then parted my thighs wider. He took the hint - I was so wet he sunk a second finger inside me at once. I softly moaned.
I felt his hardness nestling deeper inside the cleft of my buns, his bare skin hot against mine.
What the --
I suddenly realized that when I had raised my hips to get my panties off, he had sneakily unzipped and pulled his shorts down, freeing his bare cock.
That was fucking smooth, I thought. This ain't his first rodeo in a back seat. I thought about whispering in his ear to slide his shorts back up.
But, it felt so damn good.
Jesus. What's wrong with me?
My body answered, not a gotdamn thang, my butt muscles clenching against Lucus' stiffness, teasing him. I felt his cock twitch, and I heard his breath catch, a soft "huuh."
"Are you OK?" Cody asked me, glancing at us in the rear view mirror, then his eyes flicked back to the light traffic as he drove through the countryside at 80 MPH or so. I realized I might not have controlled my expression during that internal debate. I froze for a moment, my mind racing. "I'm OK, just a bit stiff in this position." Which technically wasn't a lie, since the 'stiff' part referred to Lucas' hardon. I took the opportunity to twerk my butt under the guise of shifting to a new position, which pressed my son's hardness deeper between my cheeks. Lucas showed his appreciation for this gambit by starting to finger fuck me while his thumb bumped in time to the thrust against my clit.
My husband said, "How much farther 'til you wanna stop for a break? Waco?"
I glanced outside at the road signs, did some quick math despite the mental fuzziness caused by the distraction occurring inside my pussy. Waco was maybe ten minutes away. "I don't want to stop until we go a little further," I said, enjoying the deliberate double entendre. "Maybe stop in that Czech town, West? Eat some kolaches?"
I wasn't sure if anyone else used 'eat some kolaches' to refer to a blowjob, but it seemed like a great euphemism if you lived in Texas. Or Czechoslovakia, though most Czechs would scoff at the blasphemy of calling Pigs In A Blanket 'kolaches'.
"I'd like to go a little further, too," Lucas said, his rumbly voice conveying a hint of amusement at the phrasing, but subtle enough that my husband almost certainly missed it, given his lack of the context. If by 'context' you mean 'getting finger fucked'.
"Sure," Cody said. "I'm OK not stopping yet. Hey, Lucas?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you doing with your mom on your lap?"
"No worries, dad. She keeps moving around so it doesn't get uncomfortable."
My husband's eyes resumed scanning the road ahead.
"Speaking of which, mom, could you raise up a bit to relieve the pressure?"
I did. And felt him slide his cock under me, while his fingers slipped out of my pussy and began guiding his manhood. He started rubbing his cockhead back and forth over my well lubricated pussy lips.
No, I thought. Please don't.
My body ignored that debate from the sidelines, my bottom slowly moving in time to his cockhead's journey over my wetness. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning.
His cockhead slipped a fraction into my pussy lips. Just the tip. Not yet beyond the point of no return.
My legs were getting tired from hovering over his lap.
I need to do something here. Pull out?
Fuck it.
I pressed my hand against his, gently pushing down. Letting him know I wanted him to go deeper in me. He got the idea and pushed up with his hips, getting just the helmet inside.
I relaxed my legs and sat down, and he sunk all the way inside my well lubricated vagina.
"Fuuuck," Lucas whispered in my ear. "Soo good."
"Mmmm." I clenched my vaginal walls and released. I felt his body jolt, as if he'd never had a girl give him that treat.
18-year-old girls, I thought. The fuck do they know about pleasing men?
I looked over at my husband. It was a good thing the painting was blocking his view. I wasn't particularly enamored of dying in a fiery crash, because he got distracted in traffic by seeing his son's cock buried deep in his wife's pussyMy slutty body was tingling from the sensation of getting penetrated again, after a week's drought. I began barely moving my hips up and down, so I could feel his shaft sliding against my slick internal walls, but without visibly riding him and thus alerting my husband.
My son started rubbing my lower back under my dress. He kneaded and rubbed up my spine, raising my dress as he did so. As my dress rose higher I could feel the cool air from the SUV's climate control making my nipples even harder. His hands were hot from the metabolic furnace of his athletic body burning through the calories. He rubbed all the way up to my neck while I stealthily rode him in reverse cowgirl position.
"No," I whispered. "Feels good, but Cody could see you kneading my neck."
Lucas started running his hands up and down my body, feeling the soft top layer of my belly and the hard abs beneath, and then all the generous curves above and below my midriff. He gently kneaded my tits, then cupped them with his hands. He lovingly squeezed them, then began twisting my erect nipples.
My nipples are very sensitive. I nearly came, but fought down the urge, trying to tamp down the noise I was involuntarily making. We were going thru Waco now, and the suddenly heavy traffic all around us on the freeway was providing some cover for the noise.
Not enough, apparently. "Everything OK?" Cody asked me, his eyes flicking to the rear view then back at the rushing traffic. "You sound like you're getting uncomfortable on Lucas' lap. Do you want me to get off the freeway here so you can get out of the car, take a break?"
"No, I'm not ready to get off yet," I said, grinding harder on my son's lap.
I heard a muffled strangling sound behind me as my son restrained a laugh at my phrasing. Or perhaps tried to delay an imminent orgasm. "How about you, Lucas? Anything you need to get more comfortable? Anything you want me to do?"
Lucas placed his hands on the sides of my curvy hips. "Perhaps you can raise up some so I can position myself better?"
I raised my booty so his entire shaft slid out of my pussy lips, just his cockhead inside me. I felt his hands urgently pressing down on my hips. I slammed myself down as my son raised his hips, driving balls deep into me. I almost came right then. I felt his body tense against mine as he shot hot cum inside me, spurt after spurt. I softly groaned. I couldn't help myself.
My husband's gaze flicked in the mirror for a microsecond, then a car horn blared and he swerved the SUV.
I used the momentary distraction of the evasive maneuver to let go, let my orgasm more or less quietly roil over me, that excruciatingly lovely pleasure on the verge of pain when you come so hard. I closed my eyes and let wave after wave break inside me, each crest a bit weaker, trying to control my breathing. It sounded like Lucas was relaxing from the aftermath of his orgasm.
Guys. They come harder than women, but only once. They'll never know what it is like to have multiple orgasms wash over you, eons of bliss.
"Fuuuck," my husband said. "That sumbitch swerved across the whole freeway, trying to make that gotdamn exit. Oh. Hey. You're breathing fast. That scare you?"
As I felt my son's dick slowly soften in my pussy, I said, "Nah. That was exciting." The forbiddenness of talking to my husband with my son's dick still inside me, his hot cum filling me, made me even randier.
"I almost forgot to ask, Lucas," I said. "How often would you like me to come visit once you get settled in? I'd like to cum as much as I can."
"Mom, you can cum as often as you want to." As he finished saying that he pushed his still mostly erect penis back inside me. "How soon do you think you will cum?"
"Real soon."
I started slowly twerking my ass back and forth while riding his dick. His dick stiffened again. Not something you can expect so quickly from someone in their late 30s like my husband.
I felt another orgasm coming. Lucus took his hands off my hips and cupped my slowly swaying tits. The naughtiness of talking dirty to my son, while my husband was oblivious to my intent, put me over the top. I felt gentle waves of orgasms wash over me, no longer the sharp neediness of that first slaking of my lust, but the soft enjoyment of the aftermath.
When it was over, I laid back against my son's torso, exhausted. He was still slowly fucking me, not able to come right now. Too soon after, even with the short refractory period of youth. But I enjoyed the continued intimacy, as close to cuddling as we could get given the circumstances.
I whispered in Lucas' ear, "Am I a bad mother for not feeling guilty now? For feeling happy?"
"Happiness is a bad thing now?" He breathed delicious heat into my ear, still lazily fucking my cunt with his softening cock, enjoying the last remaining moments of use from his manhood. "Sure as fuck missed THAT group text."
********************
When we arrived at the semi-furnished one bedroom apartment we'd rented for Lucas near the college campus north of Dallas, it was getting close to dusk. We unloaded the SUV, then piled the boxes in rough proximity to where they'd be unpacked.
When we'd finished, my husband said, "Lucas, could you step outside for a bit, give your mom and me the room?"
Lucas' eyes met mine, sharing an unspoken 'Does He Know?' moment. I gave him a flick of my chin, meaning, 'Maybe. I'll deal with it. Go.'
He nodded. "I'll go check out the campus before it gets too dark."
I watched the apartment door shut. Looked at my husband. "Yeesss?"
"Ummm... I don't quite know how to ask you this, but did you -"
"You don't get to ask me questions, until you quit lying to me."
"About...?"
"About coming home late after fucking some young girl, and then insulting my intelligence and lying about it. To my face. I could fucking smell her cunt on you."
He gave me a deer in the headlights look. Busted.
"How old?"
"18."
"Jesus. Fuck. How many?"
"Just the one. It was nothi -"
"Save it. You know my three rules. 'Don't lie to me. Don't cheat on me..."
"and don't steal from me. I know, I know."
"Really? Because you broke two of them in the course of a couple hours."
He looked scared. Not the conversation he was expecting to have, apparently. "What do you want from me?"
"Do you love me? Do you want to be married to me?"
"Yes. And yes."
"Unlock your phone, open her contact info, and hand it to me."
He sheepishly complied.
"Tiffany, hunh? What, a stripper?"
He gave me a look that said, 'Well, yeah, but, you know -'
"Really? Fuck's sake." I opened her text window, typed, 'Sorry. It's over. My wife knows. I'm not leaving her. Please don't ever contact me again.'
"Uhh, what are you saying?"
"If you're never gonna see her, talk to her, or in any way contact her ever again - what do you care what she'll think? Or are you equivocating over whether you actually want to be married to me?" I stared him down, and he dropped his eyes.
He sighed, still looking at the ground. "Do it. Do whatever."
I hit send for the text. Then I blocked her number. Deleted all of her texts and emails and contact info. Removed everything that would allow him to ever contact her again. Unless...
"Do you remember her number?"
"No. Didn't know her long enough to memorize it."
I handed the phone back to him. "If you ever contact her, or any other potential side chick, ever again, you might want to first line up a divorce attorney."
He sighed loudly. "OK. So, are we good now? Ready to head back home?"
"No. We're not good. I want some time to think about whether I want to resume being married to you. Go home. Now."
"Ummm, about the other thi -"
"Go. Now. Without me. I'm gonna help Lucas buy some stuff tomorrow, and maybe take another day if he needs it. I'll call you when it's time to come pick me up. Assuming I want to come back at all."
Cody was staring at me, stunned at the extremely assertive woman he somehow had never seen before -- never having pissed me off this much before - when the apartment door opened and Lucas warily poked his head in. His eyes darted back and forth, reading our body language.
"Uh - you guys need more time? I can -"
"Your dad was just leaving. If it's all right with you, I'd like to stay a day or two more, help you unpack and buy you stuff for your apartment."
"Sure, mom. I'd love that."
"C'mon in. Give your dad a hug before he goes."
Cody went over and gave his son a big bear hug, not nearly as enthusiastically returned. "Love you, son."
Lucas looked over at me, raised his eyebrows, silently saying, 'Should I ask?'
I narrowed my eyes, gave a tiny shake of my head. 'Not the time.'
"Love you too, dad."
The bear hug lingered awkwardly long, then Cody shot me a look, blinking. Trying not to cry.
He left. We both watched the SUV take off at excessive speed, but not the dramatic smoky burnout he probably wanted, because Traction Control is a thing.
Lucas walked up close to me. "What do you want to do now? Unpack?"
I stepped well into his personal space, not quite touching. "Is that what you want to do?" I said, my voice sultry.
"Hmmm. Something else?" He gingerly reached out and touched my wrist. Slid his finger slowly, igniting sparks in my brain.
"Anything." I put my hand on one of his hard pectoral muscles. Squeezed. Looked into his eyes.
He touched one of my breasts. Played and twisted the nipple, getting it hard. In a rumbly bedroom voice that I suspect had dissolved the virtue of lots of young women already, he said, "Would you like to get on your knees, baby?"
"Put your hands on my shoulders."
He gripped my shoulders. Pushed down gently.
I let me guide me to my knees. I looked up at him, making and holding eye contact.
"Unzip me," he ordered, the command in his voice showing he'd picked up on my need right now to submit.
I unzipped his blue shorts, then hooked my fingers at his waist and pulled both his shorts and black briefs down to his ankles. His cock sprang free, starting to stiffen.
God, he's huge. And not even fully erect yet. I licked my lips. Waited for permission. For orders.
He reached out and stroked my hair softly, caressed a cheek with the other hand, then slid the hand off the cheek and onto the back of my head.
"It's so big. May I...?"
"Yes. Kiss it." He gently nudged my head forward, until the tip touched my lips.
I took his balls in one hand, kneading, while my lips parted and took just his cockhead inside, my lips and tongue working their magic. His dick was well over seven inches long. Any longer and he wouldn't have been able to go all the way inside my pussy earlier without hurting me by ramming my cervix. The perfect length.
He groaned and pressed again on the back of my head, and I let his manhood slide deeper and deeper, never breaking eye contact with him, still massaging lightly hairy balls. He stopped when his cockhead touched my throat, a worried look in his eyes, like he was afraid he'd hurt me.
As if. I reached behind me with my spare hand that wasn't coaxing and teasing his balls, and covered his hand on the back on my head. Pushed, showing him I liked being dominated and throatfucked, smoothly letting him slide all the way inside me. Taking it. My throat sore but in a good way. My nose briefly pressed against his hot skin and trimmed pubic hair, before I backed halfway up his shaft so I could breathe again.
His eyes widened as he realized that whatever he desired, I'd do it. I'd stop at nothing to please my man.
"OK?"
I enthusiastically nodded 'yes, please'. I deepthroated him again, unable to speak with that huge cock jammed down my throat, my eyes locked on his.
"I bet you could make me cum in under a minute, if you wanted to, yeah?"
"Ummm-hmmmmmmmm," I said, my throat humming and vibrating, giving him something I'm sure he'd never gotten before. I pulled off almost to the tip, inhaled a lungful of air through my nose. Gave him a wicked look while licking his frenulum and the piss slit above it, making him groan. Then I put his big mushroom head against the inside of my cheek, rapidly tapped on it from the outside of the cheek while gently kneading his balls. I reached up and twisted one of his nipples, a bit over the edge of painful. Resumed tapping his cockhead from the outside of my cheek, lightly, almost like a kiss.
His eyes widened, and he moaned and grabbed my head. And shot hot spurts of cum into my mouth, over and over, watching my eyes gaze at him lovingly, telling him wordlessly I wanted his cum.
He watched me swallow. "Ohmygod, fuuuuuck, that's so fucking hot!" he growled sexily, still spurting the last dregs of cum in his body into my mouth, giving me everything.
I swallowed the last spurt, then tightened my lips around his shaft and slowly slid my mouth toward his cockhead, milking the last bit of cum.
He stroked my hair. "Good girl. Such a good girl."
I sat there on my knees, beaming up at him, my son's cockhead barely in my mouth as I licked a few stray drops from the tip. Swallowed again, to his delight. Both my hands now twisting and rolling and playing with his nipples.
Wondering why the hell I didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt.
Then it hit me. My son was the man I * thought * I'd married. Unlike Cody, who was a seemingly perfect man, but who was hiding the flaws in his character behind the initial love bombing he'd given me.
But now, I had given myself the gift of pleasuring someone who actually was the man I had wanted my husband to be. A good, kind, honest man, strong and tall and handsome, who deserved the adoration and love I was feeling now.
And a part of me wondered how it might play out. How it might end.
But in that glorious moment, submissive at Lucas' feet, the taste of his cum in my mouth, enjoying his dominance and dirty talk - I just didn't fucking care. A moment like this, pleasing the man I had created with my own body, thus fixing a flawed husband - that memory would be worth whatever might come.
Was I crazy? Was I a bad mom for seizing the day?
And what perverted pleasure would I give him next?
********************
Later that night, I was back on my knees for my son, his hands roughly grasping my hair while pushing down on the back of my head. His hard cock slid all the way into my throat while I swallowed the last of his cum. He was more dominant and assertive than he was for the first blowjob I'd given him. Some women find it demeaning to kneel down and deepthroat, and hate having a hand forcing your head down their rigid shaft until they're buried balls deep inside and shooting ropes of cum into you, but I loved having such control over his pleasure. Ironically, sometimes a submissive sexual position gives you power. It felt hot and sexy and oh so dirty to be looking up into the eyes of my virile young son, while swallowing his salty and sticky and coppery-sweet tasting cum, like a deliciously perverted version of pancake batter.
Lucas took his hands off my head, allowing my lips and tongue to gently slide up and down the hot rubbery shaft of his big dick, sending electric aftershocks into the pleasure centers in his head.
I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was loving this dominant position, using sex to assert his independence from eighteen years of parental control.
Lucas began stroking my cheek gently with one hand, his other hand reaching down to squeeze my big breasts. Still panting for breath from his orgasm, looking with adoration into my eyes, he murmured in a deep sexy bedroom voice, "SUCH a good girl. Fuuuck, that was amazing! Was it hot for you, baby? Did you like getting revenge for dad's cheating while you sucked all the cum out of my big hard cock?"
I bought time to think of how to diplomatically address this delicate topic, by easing his shaft out of my caressing lips until just his big cockhead was in my mouth, then rapidly flicking the sensitive underside with my tongue.
His body jolted from yet another surge of endorphins and oxytocin and whatnot flooding his brain, and he moaned, "Aaaaahhh, ohmygod ohmygod don't stop!"
I gave him a wicked look as I disobeyed and slowly finished the blowjob. My tongue rolled up in a half tube, slithering around as my lips slid off his helmet, until they were only connected by a strand of cum infused saliva. A rookie mistake by my son -- don't ask for a verbal response during oral sex if you want to keep your cock shoved in their hot wet mouth.
"I was too busy showing you blowjob techniques to dwell on that. But, yeah, giving you pleasure takes some of the sting out of his betrayal." I slowly stood up, running my hands up his body as I did so, then gave him a hug and tilted my head up, looking up at my son towering over me, well over a foot taller than my five foot tall curvy body.
"Am I a bad mom?" I whispered.
"You're amazing," he said, ambiguously.
Was that deflection? Like, amazing at blowjobs AND a terrible mom? Eh. Overthinking. Take the compliment.
I parted my lips, which must have looked shiny from his cum, inviting a kiss.
He granted my wish, a gentle kiss caressing my warm full lips. We held each other a long while, as my tongue slipped inside his mouth and caressed back, flicking and licking his tongue it like it was his cockhead. He moaned.
He eventually disengaged from the kiss and said, "You're sooo good at this, mom."
I gazed at his handsome face, green eyes and dark blond hair, full kissable lips like mine. Feeling his hard athletic abs pressing against my large breasts, and both of his hands sliding down my waist and then casually reaching under my short red sundress, squeezing my large sexy booty. His strong hands were a few inches away from my slick wet cunt, where his jism had slowly oozed out of my dark pussy lips onto my upper thighs, after he fucked me in the back seat of the SUV earlier today. I remembered riding his cock after he seduced me for the first time -- or did I seduce him? Sitting on his lap while his cheating dad drove us to my son's college, seemingly oblivious to the naughtiness transpiring behind him.
I broke out of my reverie as Lucus curved a hand around my upper thigh and idly slid his fingers along the edges of my trimmed tightly curled hair. Teasing me, not quite touching my pubic mound.
Fuuuck. God, with those looks and that touch, he's gonna be swimming in pussy here at college. Especially after I finish showing him how to please a woman. "Please don't call me mom while we're being intimate. It feels so weird. Takes us out of the moment."
"What would you like me to call you then?" he said in his deep sexy bedroom voice.
"My first name. Or a title that indicates a role playing fantasy you'd like to try."
"OK, m-- uh, I mean, Aleja." He pronounced my name the way my Cuban parents would, Ah-lay-ha. Seamlessly slipping from his rumbly Texan drawl into a fluent Spanish accent in order to properly caress my name, similar to the way his hands were touching my dusky skin and sending lustful shivers up my spine.
I disengaged his hands from my buns. "We need to at least make up the bed. So we have somewhere to sleep tonight," I said, slipping in the 'we' to let him know I wanted to spend the night cuddling in his arms.
"How 'bout you find the box with the bedding and do that, while I set up my painting studio?"
I nodded. "You might want to pull up your shorts first. Unless you're looking to distract the hell outta me."
He pulled up his black Calvin Klein underwear and blue shorts, covering up his small muscular booty -- he'd inherited his dad's hard gringo butt rather than my tropic curves.
********************
While I made up the king-sized bed in his semi-furnished apartment, with an understated pale grey comforter and the usual wretched excess of pillowage that any woman worth her salt decorates a bed with, Lucas swiftly set up a mini painting studio in a corner of the large bedroom.
He laid down a canvas tarp to protect the floor from flying or dripping paint. Then he assembled an easel facing the bed, and leaned an unopened three pack of thick museum quality canvases against the wall. On a large plastic folding table he arranged glass jars full of brushes and sponges and palette knives, plus a hundred or so paint jars arranged by color. The jar lids were painted so Lucas could see how the colors looked when dried -- compensating for the annoying darkening and color shift that acrylics do while drying, unlike oil paints.
Finally, he took the big framed painting that had concealed our fucking during the car ride here, and hung it in portrait mode to the left of the bed. Lucas had created it as a riotously colorful abstract that at first glance seemed to have no pattern. But, if you looked long enough, you'd suddenly see a nude with brown skin and thicc curves. Like me.
I stood there admiring it for a bit, puzzling it out.
Lucas gave a curious look at my expression. "What?"
"Is that supposed to be me?"
"I painted my vision of what, to me, would the most beautiful woman in the world."
I raised an eyebrow at this deflection of my question. Waited.
"Using you as the model, of course. Since, by fortuitous chance, you look just like that perfect woman."
"I appreciate the flattery, but... not really necessary. I kinda already like you. What with, you know, being my son and all."
He walked over and stood to the left of me, our hips touching. Joined me in examining his painting. "That wasn't intended as flattery. Just a statement of fact."
I looked up into the eyes of my tall handsome son, searching, my hard won lie detector at full alert, my mental algorithm honed over the years by my truth impaired possibly-soon-to-be-ex-husband.
Not a blip.
Hunh. He really means that.
Lucas gave me a smouldering look. "Aleja. You're so gotdamn beautiful and sexy."
I put my hand on his chest, over his heart. Feeling his heart pounding away. "I... uh..." I whispered, blinking back tears at his passionate honesty. What I had been missing in my marriage for so many years.
Suddenly, he lifted me into his strong arms, like I weighed nothing. Kissing me. Tossing me onto the soft bed.
I gave a startled excited squeak, and found myself parting my legs in invitation, like my body had taken over and I was just along for the ride.
He swiftly climbed on top of me, the heat of his body pressed against mine, supporting most of his weight with his arms.
I gazed into his eyes from inches away. Wanting this. Needing it so bad. His weight on me felt comforting, holding me in the only place in the world I wanted to be in that perfect moment -- under him, surrendering my body to him.
"OK if we role play, Aleja?"
"Yes. Fuck yes. Tell me the story."
"I know it's unusual for a college girl, but... are you a virgin, baby?"
"Yes," I whispered. "I've been saving my body for the perfect man."
"For me? Do you want me?"
"Ohhh," I moaned, gently wriggling my hips, feeling his manhood start to stiffen yet again, the amazing libido of a teenaged boy. Or man. Definitely a man when it comes to fucking. "I want you sooo much." I kissed him. He kissed back, tenderly. We did that for what seemed like a wonderful hour, but might have been only a few minutes.
"I'll be gentle, baby," he whispered, breaking the kiss.
I greedily reclaimed the kiss. Eventually I panted, "You can be rough if you want to."
He nodded, for now softness in his eyes. He planted kisses on my cheek, my neck, the curve of my breasts above my Lustful Magenta sundress. Not the official color on the website, but it damn well ought to be. He pulled my dress up over my big breasts, sculpted by gravity into the magnificent curves only natural breasts can form, the skin there a paler beige than the olive skin of my face and arms. My large deep brown areolas were darkening from arousal, my nipples hardening as his mouth latched onto the left nipple.
"Oh my god," I cried out, arching my hips up toward his hardness, remembering the painful joy he'd given me when he was a baby, nursing on my milk engorged breasts. Returning to that sensation.
No, I thought. Stay in roleplaying character, even in my head. I'm a virgin, in college. I've never done this before.
"Oooohhh," I said. "I've never done this before."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you fucking dare stop." I grabbed the hair on the back of his head and 'forced' him to keep teasing and nipping at my nipple, just like the way he'd earlier pulled my hair and gripped my head as he came in my mouth, making me swallow his cum.
I squirmed and moaned and thrust my body at him, over and over, while his hand slipped down and rubbed the soaking wetness of my pussy, making me jolt as he touched my clit.
I put my hand on his shoulders, to push his lips and tongue down to my musky wetness.
Then my cell phone rang.
"Aleja," Lucas said. "Don't."
"Dammit. I have to."
"Please. Don't answer."
I pushed down on his shoulders, hard. "Lick my pussy, dammit."
"Whaaat?"
"While I talk. You know who it is."
He started to laugh, moving south.
"Shhh. Don't make a fucking sound."
He smothered the laugh in my pussy lips, and began licking.
"Aaaarrrrrgggh," I moaned.
"Now who's fucking noisy?" Lucas said, his voice muffled by wet cunt.
My cell phone was still ringing. Better get it before it goes to voice mail.
I grabbed the phone. 'Cheating Bastard' was the name on the screen. Somewhat ironically, given the festivities going on a few feet south of my head.
Or is it cheating if they've effectively smashed the relationship and ended it, or at least put it on hold while we sorted through the metaphorical rubble? Seeing if we could reassemble the thousands of jagged pieces of sullied memories?
I punched the green 'accept' icon. "Yes?" I said, trying to keep my voice semi-normal.
Lucas chose that moment to start flicking his tongue over my clit, jolting me.
I punched his sorry ass, or rather his sorry shoulder, perhaps a bit harder than strictly necessary under the circumstances, and mouthed, 'Not now, dammit.'
"I'm home, honey," my in-denial-about-needing-a-divorce-attorney-on-speed-dial-husband Cody said. That jammed together phrase is much more impressive sounding barked out in German, full of fire and thunder. I've checked.
I tapped the icon to put it on speaker. "You're on speaker. Oh, and don't fucking 'honey' me."
A long pause. "Lucas there?"
"He's downstairs at the moment." Which was technically correct, for some values of 'downstairs'.
"You coming home soon?"
I bucked my hips at Lucas' tongue and tried to not make any untoward noises. Fought for control of my voice. "I'll be cumming in a while."
"Umm..."
"When I'm ready to cum. Don't rush me," I said, mainly to Lucas.
"I... uh... about the car ride here..."
I bucked my hips as Lucas gave me a wicked grin, slooowly licking my clit. I gently slapped his cheek. 'Stop it', I mouthed.
Lucas rolled his eyes dramatically, exaggerating, but desisted. Began licking the ticklish but less sensitive area where my pubic mound creased into my uppermost thighs.
Cody said, "I know I don't have a great sense of smell, but... on the drive here the car smelled like sex? Or something."
Lucas froze.
In an icy voice, I said, "Lucas is back. FYI. And, unlike you, I have a great sense of smell. And a week ago, you came home reeking of some other woman's cunt."
"Jesus, Aleja, is this really the time... with, you know, Lucas listen--"
"Shut up. Don't interrupt. I'm still talking. And, when I confronted you about your obvious infidelity, you fucking lied about it!" I raised my eyebrows at Lucas. "Hey, what are my Three Rules O' Relationships?"
"Don't lie to me. Don't cheat on me. And don't steal from me."
"Correct. And how many of those did Cody break in the course of a couple hours?"
"I count two out of three. Maybe three out of three, if you count spending joint marital assets on --"
"A skank?"
My son grimaced, and put his palms up in the universal gesture of surrender. As in, 'Please don't put me in the middle of THAT crossfire.'
I shrugged. 'Fair enough.'
He gave me a big shiteating grin. Went back to gently licking.
"Aaah," I squeaked, taken by surprise.
The pause after my involuntary soft squeak was long enough that Cody, apparently thinking he had the floor, said, "You done dragging my son into our personal business?"
"OUR son."
" 'K."
"How many?"
"How many... uh, what?"
"How many women did you cheat on me with?"
A looooooong silence.
"To the nearest ten. Roughly. Don't need an accurate count, since you've confirmed it's not 'one', based on how long it's taking you to tally it up. And don't you dare fucking lie to me about this."
In a small voice, "Maybe... nine?"
Lucas said, "Did you 'forget' to include people who are trans, gay, or non-binary?" He sounded a bit sarcastic about 'forget'.
Cody said, "I'm straight!" A bit indignantly.
Lucas continued, relentlessly, "Counting handjobs. Blowjobs. Squeezing their bare butts or tits. Fingering. Anal. Any sexual touching whatsoever."
After a pause, Cody noisily sighed. "If you're gonna move the goalposts like that... add maybe a dozen more women. And two trans women. Just fingering and blowjobs."
I said, "Were you giving or receiving with the trans women?"
"Jesus. Just receiving. I said I'm fucking STRAIGHT." I could hear him thinking. "Well, one of the trans women liked to stick a finger in my ass while blowing me. Just to make it extra hot. But that's not gay."
I waited a beat, listening for a higher bid. When none was forthcoming: "We might be operating off a different definition of 'straight'. And 'married.' "
Lucas said, with just a trace of sarcasm, "Was the fingering an invitation to get some 'straight' assfucking? Because it's 'straight' if they identify as women?"
A long pause. Cody finally said, "All that's over with. Done. In the past. OK?"
Lucas said, skeptically, "The past, as in 'The past is never dead. It's not even past.'?"
Cody said, "Are we all done discussing math and sexual Venn diagrams and Faulkner? Because I'd like to circle back to --"
I said, "Have you lied to me about anything just now?"
"No. Like I said, I'm done..."
"Cheating?"
"That."
"Say. The. Fucking. Word."
"I'm done... cheating." From the sound of his voice, he'd kinda hurt himself choking out the last word. Like saying it out loud -- with his son listening -- was a bridge too far.
Unlike, say, banging around two or three dozen other people outside our marriage. That, apparently, was easy. I glanced down at Lucas, who had switched to nuzzling at my trimmed pussy hair, inhaling my scent.
Hmmm. Was I a bad person too?
Nah. Because... reasons.
"OK," I said. "We're done."
"DONE done? Or done talking?"
"I'll call you to drive up to Dallas to pick me up, when I've got Lucas settled in."
"Dad?" Lucas said.
"What, son?"
"I need a car. I'm like a half mile off campus. I'm supposed to spend four years walking everywhere?"
"Jesus. No car. We've talked about this. You fucking wrecked your mom's Lexus after one month, driving like an idiot. Do you know how much it would cost to add you back onto our auto insurance after that? A teenaged boy who totaled a sixty thousand dollar car, doing a hundred miles an hour on I-10?"
"Dad, I was only doing twenty over. Speed limit's eighty there."
I said, dryly, "SOME people might focus a bit more on the 'you almost maimed or killed yourself' thing than on 'it'll cost a lot of money', or 'but I was in the vicinity of the speed limit.' "
I pushed Lucas' face back into my pussy, hinting that it was time for him to exit the conversation.
"Uh, those too," Cody said.
"Mmmmh," I moaned, softly.
"What does 'mmm' mean?" Cody said.
Lucas gave me a wicked grin and oh so slowly began circling my clit with his tongue. I involuntarily bucked my hips up into his face. 'Stop it,' I silently mouthed. 'Trying to talk.'
'Sounds like a you problem,' he mouthed back.
I strangled a moan, as an orgasm washed over me.
"You still there?" Cody asked.
With an exasperated look, I grabbed a handful of Lucas' hair and yanked his head off my clit. He propped himself on his elbows and gave me a big shiteating grin.
I was starting to regret that whole 'Treating him as a equal' thing, but calling him 'son' while he was giving me mind blowing orgasms was just too weird. A tricky problem of etiquette.
Struggling to control my breathing, I said, "For once, don't be a cheapskate, Cody. Buy him an inexpensive, slow tank of a car. Like an old Suburban. Put literally tons of metal between him and potential trouble. And I'll read him the riot act about the 'you're not fucking immortal' concept that teenagers have so much difficulty grasping. OK?"
"I'll think about it."
"You have a weird way of pronouncing, 'You're absolutely right, dear.' "
"Fine. FINE. You pick out the car. I'll send the money."
"We're done now. I'll call you back when I've found a car for Lucas, and I'm ready to get picked up. Don't call me until then. Don't make me block your number. Spend the time mulling over your flagrant - and frequent - disregard for marital fidelity, 'K?"
"Um, we still haven't talk ab--"
I hung up.
Lucas started a slow clap. "Wow. You can be a real hardass, m--... Aleja. Sorry. Habit."
I stroked his hair, looking lovingly into his handsome green eyes. Then pushed his head back down into my carefully trimmed sex. "This college virgin's pussy ain't gonna lick itself."
"Mmmmph," he said, slowly sliding his tongue over my dark labia, heading toward my clit again.
"Aaaah. Yes. YES. Oh god, yes." I thrashed my hips around with wave after wave of orgasms breaking over me.
God, I'm an insatiable slut.
"You. Make. Me. Into. Such. A. Slut." I said, bucking my face into him with each word.
He licked even faster.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh..." I said, shuddering with pleasure, and tugging under his arms, trying to pull him into missionary position. "I'm ready. Fuck me now!"
His mouth twitched up at one corner in amusement. "You sure you want me to take your virginity, baby?" He gave me a leisurely lick from the bottom of my labia to my clit.
I yanked up harder, and spread my legs wide. "Please. Take my virginity. Make me your woman."
He got on top of me, his eyes so close to mine that they were a bit blurry, a lovely smear of green, then his mouth closed over mine while he started rubbing his cockhead up and down my soaking wet slit. Teasing me. "Beg for it. Make me know how bad you want it."
"Please. Please! Fuck the hell out of me. Jam that big hard prick into my soaking wet virgin pussy!"
He kept sliding. No penetration. Yet. "You want me to give you a baby?"
I was so turned on by this dirty talk. "Fuck me! Make me pregnant! Please!" I grabbed his hard butt cheeks and jammed down with all my strength.
He slid all the way inside me, balls deep. "Ooooohhhh, god. Feels sooo good. Can't wait. I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum in me, baby! Shoot your hot sticky cum into my virgin womb!"
He started slamming into me, over and over, panting and groaning and sweating. "You're sure you want my baby? You ready for my cum?"
"Gimme your cum gotdamnit!" I bit his lip, not too hard, and scratched his back with my nails while wrapping my legs around his waist, giving myself to him, wanting his sperm in me. Wanting him.
Lucas grabbed my ankles and placed them on his shoulders, then grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. It was so hot, being in such a delightfully submissive and helpless position. He kept shoving inside me, stroke after stroke, fucking me like a madman while I started cumming again, waves of orgasms thrumming through my body and into my head.
This went on for a long time, Lucas being slow to empty his balls into me after doing so three times already today, while I came harder and more often than I'd ever done before. Enjoying imagining I was a teenaged virgin getting her first fuck ever. Finally Lucas jammed himself all the way inside my slutty wet needy cunt and stopped moving, grunting and growling this deep guttural animal sound, a primal sexy noise. He began shooting his hot cum deep inside me, rope after rope, panting and jolting and gasping for breath like I'd stuck a live wire into his nervous system.
And I had the same feeling I'd had nineteen years ago, thinking I'd just made a baby, as my hips thrust up against him, coaxing all the cum out of him. Coupling with the man I'd wanted to marry -- the man I'd thought I'd married -- but perfect this time, without Cody's flaws, good and kind and oh so fucking hot and sexy.
A perfect man that I'd made with my own body. A gift for myself.
After, he lay on me, gasping and spent, his heavy weight so comforting, holding me down. His softening prick was still deep inside me, blocking escape attempts from the sperm I'd taken from him.
"Soo sleepy," he whispered.
"Go to sleep, baby."
"Shouldn't I cuddle and talk now?"
"I'm happy just to feel your warmth against me."
"Mmm. 'K." He slid off me, then laid on his side holding me. I rolled onto my side, facing him so I could see him gazing lovingly at me. He resisted it a bit longer, then his sexy heavy-lidded bedroom eyes closed, surrendering to the waves of post-cum sleepiness.
I pressed my body against him, gently hugging my man. My bae.
********************
The next evening, I was eating take out Chinese food with mom at the Straight Outta Goodwill dining room table in my apartment, when she dropped a bombshell:
"Would you like to try an even kinkier kind of roleplaying sex?"
"Ummm... maybe? Like, how?"
"I could roleplay being your little sister."
"The fuck, mom? You want me to pretend I'm having sex with Ciara? Gross."
"You're literally a motherfucker - you've had sex with your mom -- and some light roleplaying is the part you think is super perverted?"
I thought it over. Shrugged. "Eh... OK. Might be fun. You wanna try it, starting now?"
Mom grinned. In a pitch perfect imitation of Ciara's voice, she said, "Could you please pass the hot 'n sour soup, big brother? 'Less you're planning to hog it all."
Day-yam. Knew mom was good at imitating actors and whatnot, but... close my eyes, I'd think that really was Ciara speaking.
My 'sister' slid the container across the table. In that overly innocent voice Ciara uses when she's messing with you, said, "Soo... what's it like, fucking mom?"
I damn near choked on a gristly piece of General Tso's chicken I'd been trying to bite into manageable pieces for the last thirty seconds, then in self-defense spat it out. "Whaat? Fuck's sake, mom -- I mean, 'sis'. Really?"
She gave me a coolly appraising look. Not breaking character in the least, she said, still in Ciara's voice, "Doesn't sound like a denial. You really oughta avoid high stakes poker games - you suck at lying. 'Specially the part where you almost got killed by a piece of hot dead chicken. Talk about a 'tell'."
My eyes narrowed, I briefly considered roleplaying that I was brazening it out and lying my ass off. But, as a high-functioning aspie, I'm bad at lying, and my little 'sister' is almost invariably the smartest person in any given room. Just like her 'mom'. Or is that mom without the mental air quotes? Fuck. So confusing. Who knew acting was so hard?
I decided to fully immerse myself in the roleplaying, including in my thoughts. Total method acting.
This is Ciara you're looking at, I told myself. Your little almost-18-year-old sister. A sexy, curvy, smart-aleck teenager on the verge of becoming a grown-up woman.
And then something flipped in my head and it felt like I was really with Ciara, not my mom. I saw Ciara's face and voluptuous curves, right there in front of me.
You're considering brazening it out and doubling down on bullshit," Ciara said. "That will not end well."
How the fuck does she read my mind like that?
My mind rapidly flashed through prior incidents with my sister that did not end well. "You mean, like the eating fifteen hot dogs snafu? The hogtied and Wesson oil thing? The jumping off a one story roof to 'win' a one dollar dare fiasco? Sometimes I think you're a fucking sociopath."
"You really oughta consider using honey instead of vinegar here, sir. Again - You. Mom. Fucking. Details!"
"Fine. You gonna tell anyone about me fucking her?"
"Nah. I'm a sweetheart, remember? Why would I do that to my beloved brother?"
I narrowed my eyes, trying to decide whether to list off the reasons in alphabetical or chronological order.
"Main reason," she said, "it's in my best interest to keep your -- indiscretions -- with your mom quiet." She paused for dramatic effect -- not like someone that whipsmart needs more processing time to come up with an answer. "If you cooperate, that is," she said in a disturbingly mild and softspoken voice laden with menace. "Sooo... fucking mom... best parts... GO!"
I slurped hot 'n sour soup, stalling, reluctant to set the precedent of caving to blackmail.
Ciara gave me a 'You're Running Out of Time' look.
"The cunnilingus was super hot. Inhaling her musky scent and teasing her clit, while her thighs were wrapped around my head as she came over and over... mwah!" I gave a French chef's kiss.
Ciara got up and stood close to me, wearing her Fuck Me Red sundress. (Not an actual color name -- the marketing VPs for that brand of dress didn't have the nerve to go big. Called it something like Coral Adore, as I recall. And, yes, it's more than a little fucked up that I researched the color name of a dress my little sister wore. Welcome to AspieWorld. Maybe PervertWorld? Both? Embrace the power of 'and'.)
I realized that the silence had stretched awkwardly long as I went down that mental rabbit hole.
"Show me," my sister said. "Lick my cunt too."
"No -- have you lost your gotdamn mind?"
"Becaaauuuse...?"
"You're my little sister! I'm not gonna have sex with you."
Ciara grabbed my hair and pulled my head down so it was almost touching the dress fabric covering her pubic mound. I caught a tantalizing whiff of her scent, and my traitorous dick stiffened a bit.
She briefly rolled her eyes. "Being a motherfucker is OK with you, but refusing to give a tiny lick to your sister's pussy -- THAT's the hill you wanna die on?"
I momentarily started to get riled up when she called me a motherfucker, but... well... I DID literally fuck my mother recently. I decided, fuck it, I was gonna OWN that slur, not take offense. Having hot sex with Aleja was an unambiguously good thing, far as I was concerned.
Funny how no one ever uses 'sisterfucker' as a generic slur. Is that differential treatment, like, ageist?
Ciara interrupted my internal monologue on the etiquette of incest, shoving my head into her crotch. My nose would have been pressed up against her pubic mound, if it weren't for the thin silk of her dress and panties.
God, she smells sooo good.
I looked up into her gorgeous green eyes, enjoying the slightly painful submissiveness of having my hair yanked. "Just one little lick, right?".
"Sure," she said, unconvincingly. She lifted her dress. "Pull down my panties."
I tugged down her lacy red panties and squeezed her olive skinned thighs, muscular but overlaid with a soft feminine layer of fat, making them oh so sexy to the touch. I nuzzled her trimmed pubic hair with my lips, teasing her, still gazing up into her eyes. "You look so much like mom."
Her lips quirked in amusement, then she released the hand grabbing my hair to give my cheek a playful slap, but a bit harder than warranted by the circumstances. "You're saying I'm a decrepit old lady in her mid-thirties?"
"Fuuck. Get some perspective, sis. That ain't old. Forties, fifties -- now THAT's old."
More eye rollage.
"I'm saying, you've got the same sexy thicc figure, big boobs and a large sexy booty. And your soft darker skin -- mmmm."
Another amused look. "So you're calling me fat?"
I retaliated against her saucy deliberate mischaracterization of my words by grabbing her voluptuous buttocks and tugging her sex into my face, giving her pussy lips and clit a sloooow teasing lick.
She groaned and her hips thrust against my face, wanting more.
I gave her clit a soft kiss and pulled my face back an inch. "OK. That's the lick I promised. You done blackmailing me?"
She grabbed my head with both hands and shoved me into her musky and, by now sopping wet, black curly pubic hair and dark labia. She growled sexily as I resumed licking. "Blackmailers always come back for more. Now get on your knees. I'm gonna make you my bitch."
I slowly got off my chair and sunk to my knees, feigning reluctance.
"Good boy," Ciara said, pressing her pussy back into my face. "Lick me good."
I rolled my tongue into a tube and slid it inside her, beginning to tonguefuck her, looking up at her face, her eyes locked lustfully on mine. I rolled a thumb in slow circles around her clit. Her thicc body jolted and her big breasts swayed seductively as I gave her what she craved. After a few minutes, my lips already feeling slightly abraded by her pubic hair, she suddenly came. Loudly. Like, 'wake the sleeping neighbors' loud. And then came again and again, insatiably multiorgasmic like her mother. "Gaaaaaah... Aaarrrrrgggh... ohmyfuckinggod," she explained, her legs trembling from the orgasmic release.
"Lie flat on the floor," she ordered. When I did, she straddled my face, her lower legs folded under her thighs. She pulled on my hair and began facefucking me, bucking her hips as she rode me. My view was limited to the oh so sexy sight of her enveloping thighs and belly, plus flashes of her dark pussy as she rode up a fraction, then thrust into my face again and again. Her strong thighs squeezed my face, and her public hair wetly slithered and rubbed against my nose, the perfume of her pussy smelling amazing. Bottle that scent, you'd make a fortune.
"Pleasedon'tstopfuckingmymouthohpleasedon'tstop," I tried to say, though with my muffled voice it sounded more like, "pleduhstfuhmuhmfffplllstup", or something equally inarticulate. Her slick cunt jammed and squirmed against my thoroughly wet face while I licked and sucked her labia and clit. Riding me rough and hurting me a bit, as her soft amazing flesh squished against me.
Not that I minded. So fucking hot.
I ran my hands up her belly, inside her dress, and grabbed her large breasts, squeezing and kneading that soft goodness.
She reached behind me and stroked my rock hard prick. "I'm ready. Fuck me now, baby." Without waiting for my consent, not that I could have given it with my mouth smothered by her wet pussy rubbing against my lips, she squirmed off my face and moved her body down my torso. I was still holding onto her breasts, but released them as she leaned forward and enveloped my face with the soft ripe plumpness of her boobs, deliciously smothering me. Just as I was about to gasp for air, she backed further down my body until her pussy was poised above my stiff prick.
I grabbed my hard shaft and rubbed the head against her slick sex-swollen dark lips, teasing her. As my cockhead parted the lips, I caught a flash of her wet pink vagina between her dark labia. It was pretty much the same shade of pink I'd seen on the other women I'd licked or fucked, regardless of how much protective melanin adorned their exterior.
It occurred to me that a side effect of fucking heaps of women was that my ethnicity-dar was irretrievably broken. Hard to think of black or white, when what I'd actually witnessed was degrees of dark brown to light beige. OK, and one super pale-skinned Irish redhead, though even there her copious freckles brought the overall average up to 'light tan'.
"Fuck me now!" Ciara said, rudely interrupting my epiphany. "Gonna ride you!" She tried to lower herself onto my stiffness, but I grabbed her buttocks and pressed up, hard, stopping her. Taunting, in retaliation for her being so dominant.
"Gotdammit!" she said, panting and sweaty from the exertion of vigorously riding my face. "Get inside my hot wet pussy already!"
"What's the magic word?" I said, as coolly as I could, despite my desperate need to sink inside.
"Really? Now?" She tried to force her way downward, but my strong hands held her up.
I raised my eyebrows. Waiting for her verbal submission.
"Please, dammit!"
I released her sexy round buttocks, and she plunged down, enveloping me with her tight slippery tunnel.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhh!" we both sighed, simultaneously.
She began vigorously fucking me in cowgirl position, moaning and sighing as I growled and grunted in reply. A wordless primal surrender to our bodies' needs, our eyes locked on each other. She reached down and rubbed her clitoris. Began loudly cumming again and again, though not quite as fervently as earlier, the desperate earlier heat of her orgasms tempered into a softer rolling set of endless waves. Even though it was tempting to join her in orgasming, I wanted to make it last.
After what seemed like a blissful forever, though perhaps it was only a few minutes, Ciara growled, "Gonna fuck you Amazon style, really make you my bitch."
"Amazon? The fuck's that?"
She wickedly narrowed her eyes, grinning at her older brother's confusion, the pupils of her beautiful hazel-green eyes still dilated from lust. She unimpaled herself from my prick, then reached down and spread my legs wide apart. I tried to resist being rendered open and vulnerable like this, for the sake of appearances -- one must show good manners and breeding, even while being so submissively slutty -- but allowed her to overpower me after token resistance.
The social niceties having been duly observed, Ciara climbed between my outspread legs, grabbed my ankles and lifted them onto her shoulders. Then she leaned forward until my thighs were submissively pressed against my torso, and jammed her pussy onto my stiffness, taking me. Using me like a cum dispenser for her slutty voracious pleasure.
She leaned forward and kissed me, then began fucking me with her pussy, in missionary position but with her dominant and on top. "That's. Fucking. Amazon. Position." she groaned, one word sentences for each thrust at me.
I kissed back, letting her tongue slip inside and begin fucking my mouth, gazing lovingly into my little sister's gorgeous eyes as she took what she wanted -- needed -- from me.
She disengaged her greedy mouth and put her lips against my ear, whispering, "Wrap your legs around my waist. Like you never want to let go." I obeyed, my heels gently pressing into her back. I reached in between us and my fingers found her clit, rubbing softly. She began cumming again, not quite as loudly this time. A more intimate series of orgasms.
"Harder," she gasped between orgasms. "Like you mean it."
I squeezed my legs tightly around her waist, pressing her hot sweaty body against mine, letting her fuck the hell out of me, our bodies moving in rhythm.
Eventually she came one last time, and collapsed on top of me, her comforting heat and weight holding me in place, right where I wanted to be.
She gasped for air, panting until she'd recovered from our wondrous cardio workout. We kissed and hugged a long time, wordlessly looking into each other's eyes.
"Did you come yet, baby?" she whispered.
"No, but it's OK."
"What would help you get off?"
"I've never tried anal..."
She looked at me, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Don't have a strap-on with me, you sexy boy."
I gave her a micro eyeroll. "Me. Fucking your ass."
"OK."
"OK?"
"Mmmm." Neither of us moved, enjoying the lazily sleepy aftermath of her slutty voracious string of orgasms, our sweaty bodies still entwined. Part of me wanted to accept her consent to assfuck her before she changed her mind, but my traitorous dick was taking a well-deserved nap.
After a bit, she whispered in my ear, "Did you like that role playing?"
"Yeah, m--... I mean, Ciara."
"I think we're done roleplaying. You can say 'mom' now. Say it like a term of endearment."
"Mom. Mom-mom-mom." It still felt weird, saying the M-word while locked together intimately, looking into Aleja's eyes. "Was it hot, pretending to be my sister?"
"Mmmmm. So hot. I like being young... er."
"Was it hard?"
She rolled off me, onto her belly, and ran her finger along my shaft, stiffening it considerably. "Still is."
"To act. Hard to ACT."
"I imagine it's much easier to identify temporarily as your sister, than it is for a trans woman to not ever break character. To embrace that identity wholeheartedly." A long pause. "You ever thought about dressing up like that?"
"Fuck's sake, mom. Breaking this taboo is weird enough."
"So... you ready to buttfuck me?" She sensuously wiggled her booty, suggestively.
I stared into her beautiful eyes, then at the curves of her luscious booty slowly and hypnotically swaying from side to side, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. It's taboo enough to fuck your mom, but to do her in the ass after pretending she was your little sister? How perverted was that? I looked down at my crotch where my semi-hard cock was leisurely stretching and stiffening, readying for imminent action, aroused by the sight of Aleja's thick feminine roundness. Silently urging me to surrender to temptation and climb on top of her gently swaying buttocks. Sink inside her tight arse in prone bone position.
"I hope you know what the fuck you're doing," I told my penis.
And that was the moment Aleja's phone went off. She lazily glared at it, too wrung out from orgasms to work up a proper outrage. 'Cheating bastard' was displayed on the screen.
"Hunh. Dad." I said. "Didn't you tell him not to call, ponder the consequences of cheating on you en masse?"
She stared at the ringing phone, like she was gonna kill the messenger, take a hammer and do grievous bodily harm to an innocent Phonian-American.
"I'm gonna get some lube," I said, brightly, changing the subject, looking forward to my first anal fuck.
A long silence, as the phone went to voice mail.
Before I could get up and head lube-ward, mom reached out and squeezed me tightly against her, hugging me like she couldn't bear to let go.
Tears brimming in her eyes.
Dammit, I thought. So much for anal.
Gotta be tender and attentive, share our feelings and bond. Make her feel wanted and adored.
Maybe then I can fuck that big sexy butt?
**************
"... birthday to YOOOOUUUU!" My mom, Aleja, sang in a pitch-perfect bright soprano voice. My brother, Lucas... let's just say his rumbly bass voice was endearingly off-key.
Lucas pushed the chocolate coconut cake, with eighteen small candles lighting up the softly lit room, toward me. "Got a birthday wish, Ciara?"
I watched the candle flames reflected in my big brother's handsome green eyes, his pupils wide open in the dark.
I wish I could have a perfect boyfriend like him, I thought, gazing into his eyes. Handsome, tall, a sexy deep voice I could listen to all day, and that adorable awkward kindness to most everyone. On our first day in high school (I'd skipped a grade, so even though he was more than a year older than me, we started on the same day), I watched at lunchtime as the leader of the cool kids offered him membership in their clique:
Tiana: "Hey. Come sit with us."
Lucas: "Why?"
"Cause we're awesome."
"Why? Because you're the smartest kids, too?"
"We're not fucking bookworms, if that's what you mean. Speaking of which, why are you hanging out with that fat dork?"
"You pronounced 'hanging out with my beautiful sister' wrong."
* Rolls eyes * "Her? Beautiful? Please. You're gonna have to ditch your sister if you wanna join us and not be a social pariah."
"If you're at all indicative of the members of your clique, why would I want to sully myself by sitting with the boring and mean kids?"
"Oh, you're SO gonna regret this."
"Already regretting these squandered minutes I'm never getting back."
So Lucas spent his years in high school hanging out with me and the other smart outcasts, a gorgeous Adonis amidst a sea of nerds and aspies and awkward kids that didn't quite fit the image needed to get socially 'promoted'.
Re Tiana's 'fat' comment: I'd gotten my mom's curviness -- huge breasts, a relatively slim waist, and a ginormous booty. Plus I'd doubled down on her Cuban heritage, with dark skin and eyes, and black curly hair, visually straddling the line between Latina and Afro-Caribbean. Thus, my name Ciara -- 'little dark one' in Irish.
Not quite the Cool Kids Template for beauty, where the acceptable feminine body types ranged all the way from thin to borderline anorexic, and thick coke-bottle lens glasses like mine were Not Done, even ironically.
I popped out of the weird conversation in my head I was having with the imaginary readers of my imaginary autobiography, realizing my silence was on the verge of being awkwardly long. "Yeah, I know what I want for my birthday."
Lucas raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"It's a secret." I blew out the candles extra hard, on the wildly unlikely chance that lung capacity and air pressure applied to lit candles were bizarrely correlated with obtaining one's deepest desires.
***************
After I had opened my presents, my mom gave me a big hug. "Wish I didn't have to leave my baby girl so soon. But I gotta drive back tonight - that damned divorce deposition."
"I love you, mom. Wish you and dad could stay together."
"Was that your birthday wish?" she whispered. "Because, trust me, staying with a man who can't help cheating on you ain't much of a present."
"Naw. Something else."
"OK. Love you too, Ciara."
Aleja gave Lucas a big hug also. A curiously long, intimate hug, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Whaaaaat? Nah. Can't be.
My mom wiped away a tear and left.
My brother and I watched through his apartment door as mom climbed in the Toyota Sequoia she was sharing with Lucas, an older SUV that looked absurdly large against her five foot frame. She fired up the big V8 engine, waved goodbye, and left as we waved back.
"Soooo..." I said, stepping back into the dim room illuminated by several strategically placed coconut scented candles, a feminine touch undoubtedly chosen by mom. 'Cause Lucas was fucking clueless about interior design, judging from the bedroom he'd had back in Austin: Yang Central. Manliness incarnate. Terrible feng shui.
"What?"
"About that hug..."
He stared at me. Didn't reply.
Holy fuck, I thought.
"Are you and mom... you know..."
I could see in his eyes that he didn't want to answer, but couldn't lie to me. Seriously, even if he wanted to, he couldn't pull off a successful lie with me. There's a reason I was gonna be an eighteen year old junior at UT Austin - you don't rack up over a year's worth of Advance Placement credit by being slow-witted.
"... fucking?" I said, finishing the sentence, since apparently I had to be really explicit here to drag an answer outta him.
"How did you know?"
"Cause you just told me."
He rolled his eyes at being so easily outmaneuvered.
"And that hug. I mean, get a room."
"Wow. I pity any guy reckless enough to be your boyfriend, cause he ain't gonna have ANY secrets with your mind reading abilities."
"You're pronouncing 'smarter than me and really observant' wrong. No such thing as mind reading. Anyhow, enough with the deflection: You. Mom. Fucking???"
When he didn't answer, I said in a soft voice, "It's OK. I'm your little sister. Someone you can be completely honest with. And vice-versa."
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