“Your lunch is ready,” Emmett declared.
“You’re such a sweet boy,” Sarah said, standing up and taking the plate reluctantly, barely willing to eat the salami sandwich, when in reality she wanted to eat the entire sausage whole.
“I’d do anything for you Mom,” Emmett slyly answered, almost everything he said to her having a double intent.
“Good to know,” Sarah nodded, wondering if he would still think that if she asked him to fuck her.
Emmett offered himself as he said, “All you have to do is ask.”
Sarah couldn’t believe how every sentence that came out of her son’s mouth seemed to add to a mounting pile of indisputable evidence that her son was willing and offering to fuck her. Besides all of yesterday’s evidence, the lack of underwear showcasing a huge dick saluting her, mixed with the words that could be either blunt sexual implications or, unfortunately, major coincidences of a caring son added to it. Yet, all the evidence was still circumcised… shit, she meant circumstantial… she really was not able to think coherently as she again glanced down at the huge tent seeming to be teasing her and calling her name… ‘Mommy’.
Emmett, his dick making the biggest possible tent in his sweats, one he was sure his mother was well aware of, went to his special box of ornaments (his mom had bought him one every year of his life… each symbolic of something from that year) and brought them to the tree.
Emmett always put them up in the order that he’d received them, starting with baby’s first Christmas ornament.
As her son put the ornaments on the tree, Sarah watched him intently… trying to process everything. It seemed like this was an open and shut case… she’d open her mouth and then shut it around his big thick cock. Fuck, she was horny and fuck, she wanted her son… and although all the evidence implied this was a slam dunk proposition, and man did she want to be slammed… she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t just misinterpreting everything based on her insatiable lust and desire to make a fantasy come true.
Emmett, meanwhile, pondered his next move. He was sure, without a doubt, all he had to do was offer her his cock and she would be his, yet he wanted to make sure she made the first move. He wanted her to be his complete submissive Mommy-slut, although he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist the temptation of blatantly making his fantasy come true.
Once Sarah was done eating, she decided to push her case along, making sure the entire jury was convinced, as she asked, “Emmett, you said you would do anything, right?”
Emmett smiled, before he turned around, his cock still hard, “Yes, I did, Mom.”
“Can you give your mother a foot massage?” Sarah asked, knowing that if he was anything like her husband, just the feel of her feet in sheer nylon (her thigh highs were over 20 bucks a pair and bought online from France) would be enough to tempt him over the brink of lust.
Emmett, hearing words he’d fantasized about for years, nodded, even as he played it cool, “Sure, if you want me to.”