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The Puddle Ch. 02

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Standard warning before you start:

This story is completely a work of fiction involving sexual relations between family members. All characters are over the age of 18. Also, this story deals with realistic bodily fluids and odors as they relate to sex. If none of this sounds like a turn off to you, then proceed and enjoy.


Time seemed to crawl, my attention constantly drawn back to that annoying space between my legs.

It took all the restraint I had to keep from rubbing that sensitive little bud hidden in my panties. A number of times that restraint broke and I’d find myself rubbing myself through the sweatpants I had thrown on that morning. Upon realizing I was groping myself I’d pull my hand away with a disappointed sigh.

Twice I had tried to alleviate the need for release. Both attempts ended in failure and frustration.

The first was just after I had eaten lunch. I had rubbed my crotch while eating a number of times, briefly but with great pressure. I decided that in order to put my mind right I would give myself a quick cum. I hurried upstairs and stripped out of my sweatpants and tank top. With no bra on, the last step was to pull of my panties, the crotch of which was painted with my excited discharge. I stepped out of them and laid down on the bed.

Breathing slowly I ran my hands up and down my nude body. Goosebumps covered most of me, from a mixture of exposed skin and my heightened arousal. A moan escaped my lips as one hand found it’s place on a heavy tit and the other slipped down over the prickly hair of my bush and onto my warm wet labia. My middle finger pressed into the cleft between the lips, collecting juice at my opening and then slid up to bathe my engorged clitoris.

I brought my hand away from my breast and stuck my first two fingers in my mouth and covered them in saliva. I returned it to my nipple, smearing the wetness on the hardened nub. Having lubricated my sensitive areas, I started to manipulate them eagerly, my mind replaying previous experiences with my son.

I had a strong vision in my mind of him on top of me. His brow was dabbled with sweat, his short hair tousled. He stared down into my eyes as I glared up into his. We exchanged grins as he bucked his hips at me, his dick sliding into my slippery cunt. With each strong thrust into me, my large tits bounced on my chest.

“Yeah baby, fuck me. Fuck me.” I said softly to the empty room.

My finger moved back down from my clit to the gooey opening and slid easily inside. I slid it in and out as my palm ground against my damp clit. My other hand continued it’s work on my tit, fumbling and tweaking the nipple.

In my mind he reached out and gripped the tit as he fucked, so I reacted, squeezing it as hard as he would.

“Fuck me, fuck your mother.” I purred as the sound of my finger sliding in and out of my juicy pussy filled the room.

My hips rose slightly into the air to meet his thrusts and then it happened: The vision of my son escaped my mind, his cock no longer wedged in my cunt, his hand no longer painfully clenching my motherly tit. Instead my mind was filled with the memory of that taste, the horrible flavor of our combined juices.

My hips fell back to the bed and my sticky finger slipped out of my pussy. I pulled in a big lungful of air, held it a moment and then let it out in a sigh. I released my tit and clenched both fits as anger and frustration ran through me like a train.

“Fffuuuck!” I shouted into the room, my chest heaving.

I slid off of the bed and got dressed, not bothering to clean the froth from my pussy as the panties I put on were already covered in the mess.

I went back to work around the house, trying the best I could to keep my mind off sex but it was hopeless.

The dryer sung it’s song to signal it had finished it’s cycle. I emptied it and brought the basket of clean clothes upstairs to fold and put away. I opened Mark’s sock drawer to refill his supply when I noticed the crumpled box stuffed in the back of the drawer. I pulled the box out and saw it was what remained of the last box of condoms he bought to use with me.

It had been around six months since I divorced his father and it wasn’t long after that my son and I first started fucking. It was almost four months before that that my ex-husband and I had stopped having sex. As a result of that I let my birth control prescription lapse. So when Mark finally found his way to my bed, I made him use condoms. I quickly went to the doctor and went back on the pill, but to be on the safe side we continued to use condoms for a couple of months.

Finding the half-empty box of rubbers stashed in his sock drawer took me back to the first night I let him enter me bare. My body flushed with excitement again so I put my work aside again, threw the box back in the dresser drawer and headed for the bathroom.

Again I stripped nude, tossing my clothes into a pile on the tile floor. I lowered the toilet lit and escort ataşehir sat on it. Leaning back against the porcelain tank I let out a gasp as the coolness of it pressed against my back.

I wasted no time and pushed two fingers into my still-creamy cunt, rewinding my mind to the first time Mark slid his dick into me without protection. He had plunged with a great deal of eagerness but I was wet and ready for his cock. He didn’t last long that first time, feeling the velvety wetness of my pussy against his firm cock. But luckily he remained hard after expelling his first batch of seed into me.

My mind continue to play our encounter. With his heavy balls emptied, he focused on my pleasure. He pushed into me slow and firmly, pulling out quickly and fucking into me again. He kept up this slow but steady pace until he could tell I was getting closet to cumming and then he reached down to grind my clitoris with his thumb.

I mimicked his motions as I sat, spread wide on the toilet, using two fingers of one hand to rub my small nub as two fingers on my other hand slid in and out of my cunt.

The phone rang, startling me from my steamy dream. The first ring came in through the open bathroom door, the phone sitting at my nightstand. I glared at the phone and tried to ignore it, my fingers continuing their work. By the third ring I gave up. I slid my fingers out of my pussy and stood up.

I walked quickly to the phone, my blood boiling with anger.

“Hello?” I said into the receiver, trying to hide the emotion in my voice. The scent of my pussy emanated from the fingers that held the phone.

“Hey. Mark there?” my ex-husband said on the other end.

“No, he’s at work.” I said, letting some of the sharpness seep into my voice.

He sighed. “I’ll call back.” He said and then hung up.

I slammed down the phone and went back to the bathroom to wash the juices from my hands, cursing under my breath. I had a strong urge to cry, my unsatisfied sexual needs taking a toll on my emotions.

Before leaving the bathroom I pulled off a handful of toilet paper and wiped down the lid of the toilet, cleaning it of my excitement. I took my balled up clothing and tossed them in the hamper, then went into the bedroom to put on something a bit more sexy than sweatpants.

After rummaging through my closet for a bit I came out with a long grey skirt and a low-cut and tight-fitting blue blouse. I put them on, leaving myself bare underneath. Mark would be home soon and I wanted to be ready for him.

I went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine to settle my nerves. Leaning back against the counter I contemplated what I would do when my boy came home. I finished the first glass, poured another and went and sat at the dining room table.

“Perfect.” I said with a smile and then finished the second glass. I was feeling a little loose and went to fill the glass a third time. I heard the faint purr of an engine followed by the slam of a car door. I hurried back into the dining room and, after setting my wineglass aside, I slid my ass up onto the table, crossing my legs as they dangled over the edge. Letting out a quick giggle I picked up my glass and took a nice big gulp, my nerves jingling and my pulse racing.

Mark came in the front door and into the dining room on his way to the kitchen. He stopped and looked at me with surprise. A queer look lit up his face as he looked at me, glancing at my wine glass and up and down my body as I sat on the table. I couldn’t help but let out another girlish giggle.

He smiled widely. “What’s going on, mom?” He said, chuckling along with me.

I just gave him an exaggerated shrug, my eyebrows raised in a coquettish I-don’t-know expression.

He laughed again which made me almost spit the mouthful of wine I had just poured over my lips. He stepped up to the table and placed his hand on my bare calf. He lifted my leg up over the other, uncrossing my legs. I set the glass aside and stared at him, the smile on my face melting into a glazed look of lust.

He then slid a hand up along both my legs, slipping under my skirt until they reached my hips. He smiled again as his hands searched for panties to pull down, finding none. Both hands slid inward and gently rubbed my bare thighs, his fingertips brushing against my wetness, sending a greedy moan from my lungs, my breath strong with wine.

A hand went up to where my skirt met my waist and then slowly slid down through my tuft of hair.

“Doormat.” he whispered with a grin. All I could do was groan.

Just before his fingers met my shaven cunt he slid them back away, out to my hips. With his hands firmly gripping my fleshy hips he leaned in and kissed me, his tongue diving into my mouth which I happily sucked. I grabbed his sides and stared into his eyes, panting heavily.

“I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me cum.” I said, my voice quivering, filled with need.

He just nodded and tugged kadıköy escort me towards the edge of the table by my hips, causing me to suck in a gasp of air. He pushed my skirt up around my waist to expose my oozing cunt. Then he started frantically undressing himself, his eyes fastened to my motherly opening. I joined him in disrobing, quickly unbuttoning my blouse to give him an unobstructed view of my hanging tits. I struggled to free myself from it just as Mark finished removing his clothing, his dick standing proudly out in front of him.

Stepping up to the table he grabbed my hips again, his cock pressed between us as he pulled me even closer, my ass now hung halfway off the edge.

He backed off a bit and ran a thumb down through my lips until he found my waiting hole. He tested it with his thumb, finding entry easy in my overly excited state. I groaned at his welcome intrusion, and then whined, needing much more.

He took the cue and gripped his straining cock. With my legs spread wide he swiped the meaty head up and down my wet lips a few times and then stopped at the entrance. He paused there and looked up into my face, bringing my gaze up to his eyes. With our eyes locked together he gave one good forward thrust and entered me quickly to the hilt.

My eyes widened at his sudden intrusion and I let out a stuttering moan. This brought another smile to his face. He reached up and held my shoulder in his hand to support my upper body, the other remained on my waist to assist his thrusting. He stood still within me and gave me a questioning look.

“Fuck me.” was all I said. He started attacking my cunt with all he had. He jammed his dick in and out with both speed and strength. Within seconds, our vigorous fucking had caused the wineglass to overturn, spilling onto the table and soaking into my skirt. However, neither of us noticed. Our attentions were fully absorbed into our wonderful incestuous fuck.

Mark’s pacing was perfect, a quick thrust which caused our pelvises to crash together with a lovely slap, followed by a slick withdrawal to his fat cockhead. He kept this motion going as I spat out moans and groans and the occasional expletive. It wasn’t long before I started to tremble.

With my eyes clamped shut, my face contorted in a grimace, I reached down, fumbling until I could grip his hand at my hip. I pried it away, his short chewed off-nails scraping my flesh. I brought it around front and placed it on my sweat soaked bush. He slid his thumb down to my clit and started his wonderful abuse of it. He ground his thumb against my sensitive nub as he continued to pound in and out of my mothercunt. Within seconds I lost control.

I leaned forward as I started to orgasm, my entire body tensing up. His thick thumb still mashed firmly against my clitoris, swiping quickly back and forth, his dick making lewd wet sounds as it jammed in and out of my clenching cunt. He finally registered my climax and stopped fingering my bud, gripped both of my hips and lifted me off the table. He bounced me on his dick as he stood there, holding my by my fleshy ass.

I yelled out in painful pleasure as my body was rocked by orgasm, my tits pressed firmly against his sweaty chest, my arms wrapped around him. He continued bucking me on his cock until I came down from my strong cum. Moments later he set my ass back onto the table, his cock still deep inside me. He then gently laid my back onto the table into the puddle of spilled wine.

I lay there breathing heavily, whining and whimpering. He was lazily sawing his cock in and out of me as he played with my heavy tits. When I had finally recovered some, letting out a big sigh, he gripped my hips and again tugged me to the edge of the table. I could tell by the look in his eyes, the way he hungrily scanned my body, that he no longer cared about my pleasure, it was all about him now.

He began thrusting into me roughly, his fingers digging into my hips and thighs. He grunted and growled occasionally as our hips smashed together, his cock pounding my insides.

I tried to sit up to kiss him but he pushed me firmly back down and then gripped a tit tightly to hold me down. His eyes were filled with an animal lust as he fucked me fast and hard.

While his cock still felt wonderful wedged in my motherly hole, most of my pleasure was destroyed by the pain of his savage thrusts. There are times I enjoy sex to be rough, powerful. However, after a strong orgasm my body is in an altered state. My muscles are all tensed, my nerves are on fire. A slow and loving fuck is much better suited to my post-orgasm body. But as I said, his need to shoot his thick cum into me overtook any thought of my pleasure.

Gasp and yelps and moans of pain shot out of my mouth each time he bottomed out hard in my sensitive pussy. His balls slapped against my asshole with each stroke.

My son’s grip on my tit tightened, sending agony through my chest. I frantically pulled at his hand to ease my maltepe escort bayan suffering but his claw-like grip was too tight. His response to my struggle was not to lessen his hold, but to bring his other hand away from my hip and grip the other breast in the same manner.

Tears welled in my eyes as he strangled my tits, tugging down on them as he slammed in, using them to increase the force of his thrusts.

I looked up into his eyes just as his lids lowered. A low growl rose from his throat and escalated into a stammering yell. His pace increased even more, sending ripples through my entire body. He made one final, violent thrust and held still deeply seated in his own birth canal.

His grip on my tits loosened but only slightly and then tightened again as I felt his cock start to spurt. With each hard spasm of his heavy dick he clamped down on my aching tits again. Mark let out a series of grunts and moans as he unloaded a massive load of his seed within me.

He remained inside of me until his cock finished it’s job, letting the final dribbles of cream ooze out into my cunt. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting out a satisfied groan. He finally released the grip on my pained tits, bringing a hiss of relief from my lips.

I reached down and gently rubbed the soreness out of them, grimacing at my own touch. I brought my hands away and saw a small smear of blood on one of the palms. His grip was so tight that his fingernail had dug too deeply, piercing the tit flesh. I sighed at the sight.

Mark let out another big breath and then looked down at me. He saw the little spot of blood seeping out of my breast.

“Oh shit, mom. Did I do that?” He asked between gasps of air, looking up at my face with a look of concern. “I wasn’t even squeezing that hard.” He added.

He reached for my wounded breast but I gently pushed his hand away. “It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s fine.” I said, swiping my hand over my tit again, smearing the blood away.

Normally I would scold him for doing something so selfish and careless, but I was far too relaxed after my orgasm to mother him.

He then pulled out, causing both of us to groan, our genitals both raw and overly sensitive.

I sat up, my chest rising and falling rapidly, and moved to slide off of the edge of the table. Mark, however, still not finished with me fully, held me by my hips again, keeping me seated on the table.

“Hold on.” He said.

I rolled my eyes. “Not this time, not here. Let me go get cleaned up.” I said, trying to push him gently away.

As if ignoring me he slid his hands down under my thighs and jerked my legs into the air and spread them. This caused me to fall backwards, catching myself on my elbows.

“Just real quick, mom. Let it out.” He said, his eyes focused on my cunt, now splayed open. He reached between my legs and pushed my skirt, soaked with wine and our fluids, jamming it underneath my fleshy ass, so that my cunt hovered over the bare wooden table.

I struggled to sit back up but he held me firmly, keeping me in a reclined position.

“Mark, honey, please. Let me down.” I said, my voice soft.

“No. Go, come on.” He said, prying my labia open with his thumbs as he held my legs. Some of our combined muck oozed out on it’s own and rand down over my sweaty asshole, pooling onto the table.

With a sigh I gave in once again and flexed the muscles inside my battered pussy. A thick stream of his cum and my cream fell out of me and landed on the table. I took a breath and then pushed hard again. This time a smaller gob of our mess exploded out of me followed by a lewd spat of air. The sound embarrassed me and I stopped pushing, moving to get up again.

“Keep going.” He said, his eyes never leaving my slimy slit.

I clenched again, my asshole and cunt flexing under his gaze. A bit more flowed out of me. I flexed my muscles a number of times after that, just to make sure he was satisfied.

Apparently he finally was, as he gently lowered my legs back to the table. Then he firmly gripped my hips and lifted me from the table. I let out a yelp as he carried me over the fuck puddle and set me gently on the floor. I landed on shaky legs, giggling as he held me from falling over. I found my legs again and stepped up to him to wrap my arms around his neck. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him deeply, feeling his softening cock scrape against my belly.

“So it worked.” He said, licking our spit from his lips as our kiss broke.

Still with my arms around his neck I pulled back slightly and gave him a queer look.

He laughed and tightly gripped my dirty-skirted ass in both hands.

“What worked?” I asked, still looking confused. “Your cock? Yes, it worked amazingly well.” I said with a grin.

He laughed again and slapped my ass.

“Yeah, I guess it did. But no. I mean my plan worked.” He said and then kissed me again. He looked down into my confused face with a big grin on his. “I left you hanging last night on purpose. I figured if I get you worked up and don’t finish you off then maybe you’ll, you know, go a bit crazy. Maybe be a bit more adventurous.” He said.

I just stared up into his face, my look of confusion now just a blank expression.

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