My robe was open. My fingers confirmed that I was already wet. I spread my legs and slipped a finger inside. I needed to get fucked. Not like in the parking lot last night, or with one of my many toys, but fucked by a lover. Fucked by someone I cared about, who wanted to make me feel good and who I wanted to please right back. I tasted my fingers. The flavor of my pussy was strong, but there was an underlying hint of a stranger’s semen. I should have been repulsed by that, but it only turned me on more.
I worked my pussy and tits with increasing intensity after that. I writhed on Jesse’s bed, imagining he was there watching me. I finger fucked my hole, rubbed my clit, and pulled my nipples to the point of pain. With no one home I was free to make as much noise as I wanted. It started with moans and turned into cries of pleasure.
“Fuck me!” I said aloud to my son’s empty room. “Tell me you want to fuck this pussy! Say you want it! You want Mommy’s pussy? You want to fuck Mommy’s pussy, don’t you? Fuck me! Fuck me, Jesse! Fuck your mother’s pussy, Jesse! I know you want it! Shove that big cock in Mommy’s cunt, baby! Fuck me! Jesse! Oh…fuuuuuuck…!”
The words seemed to take what would have been a normal orgasm and tripled it. I kicked and twisted and brutally milked my cunt for every last sensation I could force out of it. When I finally went lax the silence was almost surprising. No squeaking bed, no sloppy slapping noises, no desperate screams. Just my rasping breath and my thumping heart. Oh, God. What had I unleashed?
On some level the thought had been lurking underneath it all, but I’d never allowed myself to face the possibility that I actually wanted to fuck my own son. Not only had I finally admitted it, but I screamed it at the top of my lungs. It was a stupid thing to do. What if Jesse had come home during that insane performance and heard me? Maybe that’s what I wanted. Shit. This was only supposed to be a way to make money. It wasn’t supposed to turn into this. Between the pot and my orgasm, my mind was too fuzzy to properly make sense of what I was feeling or doing.
The memory of how Jesse’s cum tasted in my mouth intruded on my scattered thoughts. I knew I would taste him again soon, and that alone gave me a nice tingle around my clit that spread up inside of me. I knew I had to do something to fix things before Jesse ended up hating me to the point where he never wanted to have anything to do with me again. He knew I was exploiting him. I was the one person he should be able to depend on not to do that. But at the same time, he wanted it. He didn’t like that he wanted it, and he took that out on me by treating me like crap, but it wasn’t his fault. And his balls felt so soft and silky against my tongue. I imagined him squatting down over my face and lowering those beautiful balls down into my mouth. I didn’t remember anything after that.
When I opened my eyes it was dark. There were no lights on anywhere in the house. No sound. I sat up and felt something strange. I found the switch on the desk light clamped to Jesse’s headboard. I looked down at myself and immediately realized what that funny feeling was from. I was covered in dried cum.