Her eyes flutter and legs shake when he bumps her special places. She squeals and her fingernails dig into his chest. Over the next half-an-hour, the pleasure within her, exhorted by prolonged abstinence, pulses fast and hard. Her orgasms batter her long and unexpectedly. Some make her cry, but her son never lets up; by the next orgasm, she’s thankful for him knowing better. She sweats, squirts, claws, kicks, shrieks, and screams out a month’s worth of sexual frustration.
He relishes these moments with a smile, of his longstanding memory of filial conquest again becoming a reality. Yet, he is sparring with no teenage girl; her exquisite embrace, coupled with a month of maternal neglect and his previous hour of stimulation, increasingly stir his stable panting into unsure growls of pleasure. His testicles begin to rise, their now capacious crop simmering with the excitement of impending release.
“Ugh… mommm,” he groaned.
His sweat dripped from a tan, bulging chest, mixing with hers before running down in rivulets on her alabaster skin.
Very savvy in her son’s sexual cues, Kristen knew that her teenager was about to erupt.
She pushed him out. His face filled with legitimate panic as he desperately resought her embrace. She reached down, gently pressing her nails into his painfully swollen nutsack. The pain and pleasure make him reel, snapping him out of his savage instincts.
“I don’t want to waste it in a condom. Come here, baby.”
Her tender, maternal tone made the good boy in him obey without reservation. He kneed forward until his pussy spreader lay in reach of her mouth and breasts.
She removed the condom, squeezing its collection of lubricant on to her chest, his from within, hers from without. Before her, a piteously purple mushroom wept and throbbed with unimaginable need. She grasped it within her breasts, quickly coating it in her makeshift lubricant. In the meanwhile, she tenderly kissed the tip, making it spritz a dollop of clear juice onto her lips.
She cooed, “Aww my poor babyyy. So big and purple – you must need relief bad.”
He groaned affirmatively, her ministrations already providing said need. He barely registered her tossing the empty rubber into the trash.
“Did you miss mommy’s big, soft breasts?”
“Godddd yessss.”
Kristen missed tending to her son. She missed him needing her.
“Just relax, sweetheart. Let mommy empty your big, tender balls.”
Garrett felt her fingers lovingly cajoling his pouch. With the added encouragement from her bosom furiously polishing his knurl and her tongue itching his bellend, the teen willying obeyed.
“HRGGHHHH!!” he roared as his pisshole yawned, jetting a thick, white cord of baby batter that covered the distance from his mother’s chin to his bedroom wall.
Kristen defensively aimed the cock at her chest, her eyes now shut from the deluge on her face. She patiently mothered the length of the boy’s bobbing staff as he groaned and grunted, and came, and came, and came. She was well acquainted with the boy’s miraculous potency, yet the sheer duration of his emission shocked her.