Like counting sheep, the task of recalling the various women in the small town quickly brought sleep to the tired matron. By the time her husband drunkenly crawled to bed past midnight, she was completely unaware.
———————–
The naked head of Jason’s morning wood was nestled deep in Helen’s throat less than 15 minutes after Paul had left for work.
“Ohhhhh goddd mom you actually did it. You actually took it allllll. Holyyy shit you’re perfect,” the wide-eyed boy groaned, his hands clutching both sides of her head.
Tears streaming down her face, Helen used every ounce of her college experience to keep from gagging. When she signaled for air, he withdrew immediately.
Still fisting his erection, she coughed and spat the mucous results of the blowjob on the shaft.
The bewildered teen scratched his hair, humbled, “Seriously, mom… no one has even come close before.”
“Mmm hmm,” she muttered, before returning her mouth to his penis, trying her best not to smile at her triumph.
“Uuhhh that’s amazing…” he groaned, running his fingers through her hair.
Although no stranger to a warm mouth around his cock, Jason had found Monday morning quite surprising.
The first surprise arrived slightly after his father left for work. The boy had dropped his shorts to reveal his throbbing erection, and asked her if she’d fulfill one of his greatest fantasies. Although his performance and her reactions last night had cemented her consent in his proposition, he expected a more protracted fight. Yet, almost instantly, his mother had dropped to her knees and set about the task at hand.
Her ability to deepthroat him had been the second surprise. She had beaten the previous record, set by Virginia Lee on Easter Sunday, by a whole inch and a half.
He was currently experiencing the third surprise. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he’d eaten breakfast in his current chair for the past 18 years. Perhaps it was the excitement of committing another unspeakable taboo. Perhaps it was his mother’s gorgeous turquoise eyes studying him intently, or her enormous breasts fighting to escape her bra, clearly visible through her open night robe. Perhaps it was her inexplicable enthusiasm. Or perhaps it was Helen Cleaver’s inimitable technique — the pink, flailing tongue that fluttered rapidly against the sensitive glans; the gentle, wet kisses at the base of the shift that reminded the boy of a mother’s love; the steady, warm suction that simulated a tight, virgin pussy; the secondary handjob that spread the love; the lewd, slurping sounds that were music to a boy’s ears; and the rapid, continuous head-bobbing that mirrored the teen’s favorite way to fuck.
Whatever the reason, Jason currently was in heaven as his dong quivered and leaked inside his mother’s mouth.
Although mortified, Helen wasn’t doing badly herself. An avid sword-swallower in her younger years, she’d always loved the feel and taste of cock; moreover, she relished reducing gasconading men into whimpering boys with an act so simple. Unfortunately, her idiot husband would never have any of it — “disgusting” was his word of choice to describe oral sex. Therefore, it was no surprise that she approached her first opportunity in two decades to pleasure one of the most magnificent phalluses she’d ever seen with ardent enthusiasm.