As she watched him, Marion felt an involuntary flash of arousal. It wasn’t her fault; she just couldn’t help it.
“You’ve got really great tits,” she heard her son mumble. “Fuck, mum, I just love their size and their shape.” Gareth’s eyes flicked to her face as he added a moaning, “In fact, you’re just beautiful, mum.”
Despite him being her son, Marion was momentarily thrilled to hear him say it.
Then common sense and morality kicked in again.
“You can’t say that,” Marion said. “Stop it. Stop looking at me.”
“I can’t,” Gareth said on a gasp, his hand moving faster. “I don’t want to stop looking. Please, don’t make me, mum. I only want to look at your body.”
It took an effort of will, but Marion managed to tear her focus away from the cock, away from the big dome.
She looked into her son’s face and mumbled out, “God, will you hurry up and finish. Just do it and go. Use my shirt. Don’t make a mess.”
“If I could just touch your tits,” her son responded. His eyes were huge and set back on her breasts. “”It’d all be over sooner, I promise.”
Marion sighed and quelled her own desire to touch herself between her legs. She was mortified at her body’s response, the pulse in her clit and the fact she could feel herself getting wet with arousal.
“Bloody hell, Gareth,” Marion said, spitting the words. “You have to push it, don’t you?” Marion gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. “All right,” she told him. “You can touch me. But only my breasts. And I’m not looking at you. This is so bloody off. This is just so bloody wrong.”
She turned her face away and Gareth’s fingers found her breast. Marion heard him moan, a long sigh following on as he kneaded and squeezed. Her son’s attention moved from one orb to the other, the bed moving as he cranked at his cock, his breath coming in ragged gasps she took to be a significant sign he was close to release.
“Are you nearly there?” Marion asked.
“Oh, mum,” he said in reply. “I have to suck them. I’m sorry, but…” And then his breath was hot against her skin. Marion felt the bed moving more violently, like an earthquake was rocking the room. Her son’s mouth was over one of her nipples, his tongue swirling around, his teeth just grazing tender flesh.
“You can’t do that!” Marion cried. She opened her eyes and looked at where Gareth’s palms and fingers were filled with breast-flesh, his mouth at her nipple, his eyes fixed on her stare.
He was up on his knees by then, one fist jacking his dick, his lips going from one breast to its twin, his moans and gasps muffled by his mother’s bounty.
“Just for a minute,” Gareth said around a mouthful of his own mother’s body. “I’ll come soon, mum. I promise I will.”
Ashamed at the flare of desire she felt when her son suckled her flesh, Marion just gasped and told him to hurry. It really was a pleasant sensation having his lips and tongue working her nipples. And he was handling her breasts in a way which pleased her as well. He wasn’t too rough, but nor was he overly gentle. Her son had it just right, his mauling and sucking and squeezing sending thrills of pleasure down to her core.