I don’t know if she had an orgasm, just then, but during the next few hours, I know she had several. We started at the washer, then moved to the floor. Then she went to the bathroom to clean up. I went with her. I fucked her sitting on the counter, lying on the floor, bouncing on the toilet, in the tub with her on top. We went into the kitchen to get some supper, but never ate. I fucked her as she bent over the sink and looked out the kitchen window, I fucked her on top of the kitchen table.
Suppertime came and went, and just when she said we had to stop, because Dad was coming home any minute, I dragged her upstairs into her bedroom, threw her face down on her bed, and fucked her dogie style, right there where she and Dad fucked, in the same bed where I was conceived.
That made her pussy pulsate with the strongest muscle contractions I’d felt all afternoon. When her twitching stopped, she tried to turn over.
“Your father will be home any minute,” she implored.
“I’ll bet he’s never done this,” I said.
And as she shook her head “no” I pushed her face back into the bed, lined up my pole with her asshole, and gave a push.
“No, not…” she said, muffled by the covers.
“You have to relax,” I said, then I pressed into her again. She wasn’t catching on, so I leaned up, spit on my dick like I’d heard men do. Then I held my cock stiff with my hand and pushed into her. This time, I slid in about an inch.
“Oh my god!” she cried, looking back over her shoulder, fearful of what I was doing. I didn’t stop, but pressed in deeper. “Oh my god!” she said, sounding more awestruck than afraid. I felt her give up and I sank in.
It was tight, but as I pumped in and out, she relaxed and loosened up. I reached around and fingered her clit, now an old friend of mine, and she started to twitch. As she cramped with yet another orgasm, I rammed her and she rocked back to meet my intruding cock. Her asshole was tight, and I was anxious. I came after only a dozen pumps, spewing deep inside her. Suddenly, she was very slippery. I wanted to keep going, but I shrank and plopped out.
Mom turned over onto her back. I collapsed beside her. We just lay there, unable to move, unable to speak, until I heard the key in the front door. I jumped up and flew into my bedroom. Mom was close behind and made a beeline for the bathroom.
“Hello! I’m home!” Dad bellowed. Then after a few more seconds, “Where is everybody?”
“In my room,” I yelled back, looking frantically for a pair of pants and a shirt.
“I’ll be out in a sec,” Mom called from the bathroom.
Once I got dressed, I waited in my room for a while, trying to hear what Mom was saying. I finally got the courage to go downstairs. Dad was in the kitchen with Mom. She was at the sink, wearing her bathrobe, washing dishes. Dad put his hand on my shoulder.
“Mom tells me you helped her with the laundry today,” he said. “And you home sick from school?”
I looked down at the floor and watched Dad as he nodded his approval. He gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“How is school going?” he asked.
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