I gasped, juice dripped from my pussy.
“Mom, lean forward.”
I did, he snatched a small bottle of baby oil from his desk.
“Son, you can’t, not now.”
“Why not, so long as you don’t see?
“I’m in the room!”
“How is that different then if you were across the hall? I’d be doing the same thing and, you’d know about it; you must know I masturbate, I’m a teen-ager.”
“Because…, ohmigod.”
Milla pushed her face all they way down William’s dick. There was only one place it could be, in her throat. I’d heard of this, never done it, wondered if anyone outside of porn films actually did.
William was slacked-jawed, softly rubbing his mother’s shoulder, breathing through his mouth, eyes closed, ecstacy on his face.
Then I felt it, the motion of the mattress, Todd was fisting his dick. He let out a low moan.
I said, “Son, you need to…,” then Milla rotated her head, moved William’s dick around her throat, started bobbing up and down.
It was hard to believe what I was seeing was possible. A steady stream of juice leaked from my slit; I’d begun humping my hips back and forth.
William laid a hand atop Milla’s head, his toes curled, he arched his back, he rose up on his shoulders. Milla was moving up his shaft when her cheeks bulged and William poured his cum into her mouth. She pulled off him, drops spilled from her mouth onto her breast, slithered across the nipple. She rose up on her knees, turned to face the window, straddled her son, grabbed his dick…
My god, he was still hard!
…and lowered herself, merging their bodies.
My eyes closed to tiny slits, I yanked up my dress, dug my right hand into my panties, drove a finger inside my cunt. Pleasure pulsing through my pussy, I slumped back on my son’s shoulder. He was furiously fisting his cock.
I found my clit, rubbed it, moaned, checked my voice, making sure to keep the sound confined to Todd’s bedroom. My free hand a braless breast, I squeezed.
My son’s hand was creeping up my body. Without the strength to say no, not wiling to say yes, I offered no resistance when he covered my other breast and stroked my stiff nipple.
I thumbed my clit, rocked my sex on my fingers.
Milla was panting, riding her son in the reverse cowgirl. Her eyes shot open, her body shuddered and, screaming in unabashed relief, she came.
As it happened to her, it happened to me. My orgasm was born, grew, matured, rampaged through my body, whipsawed my mind. Then my son, his tone low, guttural, and hard, said, “Oh fuck yes,” and came. As I imagined the cum spewing from his cock my sex spasmed and my asshole clenched, I came again.
I slumped back onto my son’s body. His arms encircled me. He kissed the side of my head. I opened my eyes. William and Milla were cuddled together, the picture of happy contentment. I laid my head on Todd’s shoulder. It felt good and right.
Then footsteps. “Honey, Todd, are you in there, are you okay?”
As the door rattled Todd said, “Coming Dad,” and in a single motion buckled his shorts, closed the blinds, tapped the enter button on his computer calling the screen to life, flipped on the light switch, signaled me to turn around so my back was to the window, and unlocked and opened the door.