My hand went to my tingling pussy as I moved closer to the slightly open door. I wanted to see this. No, I needed to see this.
“I can’t resist you,” she answered.
“What can’t you resist?” My son asked, as I reached the door.
“Being your cum bucket,” she answered, sounding like a complete slut.
I couldn’t help but smirk. The most pretentious woman in our neighbourhood. A mother of two, head of the community council and choir leader at church was calling herself a ‘cum bucket’.
“And why are you here now?” My son asked.
“To suck your cock, get fucked like the dirty whore I am and then get your yummy cum,” she answered, sounding more like a teenage slut or a porn star than a happily married mother of two.
Just as I peeked in the open crack accidentally left open for me, I heard the slobbering sounds of rough face fucking… something my husband often used to do to me, something I loved… being used for the pleasure of another.
Somehow they were positioned perfectly for me to get a great look at an almost naked Jemma Young, in nothing but thigh high stockings, and her face full of cock.
Seeing the thigh highs surprised me for a couple of reasons.
One: I didn’t fathom Mrs. Young as a woman who would wear such sexy stockings… she seemed more a pantyhose type of woman.
Two: my husband had a nylon fetish and made me wear thigh highs, a garter and stockings or crotchless pantyhose every day. Something I had continued doing every day the past two years since his tragic death.
Did my son have the same fetish?
Then he pulled his cock out of her mouth.
“Can you taste your daughter’s pussy on my cock?” He asked, as I stared at the massive cock.
My eyes went big.
My pussy got damper.
His dick was huge. Long and thick.
My mouth watered, as all my late night incest fantasies became more authentic.
I wanted that cock in my mouth, in my cobwebbed pussy and in my long forgotten ass.
I wanted to be on my knees in front of that magnificent cock.
I wanted to be the slut that obeyed his every order.
I wanted to be his Mommy-slut.
“I thought it tasted like her,” she said, seeming to not be bothered to have just tasted her daughter’s pussy juices.
“What would she do if she knew her supposedly good mommy was a cum bucket for her boyfriend?” He asked.
“I was your slut first,” she pointed out with pride.
“True enough,” he laughed, before he ordered, “Get on all fours on my bed, slut.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, as she scurried on the bed like a slut in heat.
Hearing the word ‘Master’ again shocked me. A term that was common between my husband and me in the confines of our bedroom. In public no one would know he was Master and I submissive. He got teased by his buddies and family that he was whipped, as I was pretty confident, seemingly feminist, in public. But once the bedroom door closed, the feminist disappeared and a wanton cock slut emerged.
“Did you pre-lube that fat slut hole of yours, ass slut?” My son asked, as he moved onto the bed.
“As always, Master,” she replied like the submissive she was. It made me smirk to see this pretentious bitch not only willingly coming over to get ass fucked, but also pre-lubing herself… that was something I had never heard of before.