A Reluctant Corruption Ch. 02

"Well I guess I should have known the risks of wearing a close-fitting outfit in front of such a strong, healthy boy." She sways and pulls my hands to the underside of her breasts. I cup the fabric encompassed flesh; my fingers traveling over the soft mounds. I feel her tiny round nipples extending through the blouse.

"No bra?" I ask, pressing down on one like a button.

"Not exactly," my mother responds. She raises her arms, signaling me to help her remove the top. I oblige wholeheartedly and pull it over her head, unveiling a scanty, white lace brassiere.

She spins and leans back to the counter, curling her fingers over the edge. The light streaming through the window highlights her in an angelic aura and causes her necklace to twinkle brilliantly. From her smoky, blue eyes and ruby, tinted lips to the sheer swathe of white lingerie that barely manages to accommodate her copious assets, words fail me.

"Well?" She bites her tongue.

I boost her up onto the countertop and smother my face into her masked bosoms before she can tempt me further. She spreads her legs wide, testing the limit of her skirt, and hooks her talons into the waistband of my shorts. I kiss the valley between her breasts, up to her clavicle and neck. Her skin tastes faintly of citrus, and I suck at it fervently.

"Come on..." my mother's fingers work anxiously at unbuttoning my trunks.

My hands coast up her thighs and underneath the gray half-dress.

"Tell me, baby. You gonna fuck me? Are you going to fuck your mother?" She foments.

I feel my pants loosen and then drop to my ankles. She grabs my cock through my checkered boxers.

"Yes," I growl. My thumbs fasten around the thong molded to her muscular ass. I pull it to her knees. It's the same make as the silk bra, except much damper.

"Say it!" She insists, yanking my boxers down.

"I want to fuck you," I reply, sliding my middle finger into her dripping cavity.

"Where?" She takes my penis again and rolls her thumb over its hole.

"Against the cabinets... Over the table..." I grimace. "Everywhere in this house."

A plume of precum greases the helmet of my dick. I huff and shove another finger into my mother's cunt. We meet each other's eyes. Hers flash with wanton anticipation.

"Kiss me," she beckons, heels pressing into my ass.

Our mouths seal together in a savory union of subversive housewife and willing son. Her fruity lip-gloss bleeds over my tongue as I nudge her lips apart and lick the inside of her cheeks. Losing myself in the moment, my fingers boisterously piston within her pussy with little regard to how hard her grip tightens around my broad shoulders. One of her pumps clatters onto the floor. She cries out, breaking the kiss, and jerks her hips forward so that her skirt slides under her butt.

'I need her now!'

I kick my pants and boxers across the tile. My mother uses the moment to tuck away a few errant strands of hair from her forehead; an ironic reflex considering her immodest pose, legs parted and flashing her bare pussy.

"I don't get what's happened to us," I state seizing my cockhead and teasing her slavering pit.

"But it hardly even feels wrong anymore."

My mother glows with pride as I wedge my rod back home; her thick nipples popping through the meshwork bra as we begin to fuck.

"Do you feel how wet I am for you?" She professes.

I pin her against the wall, ramming my prick between her outstretched legs and into her welcoming pussy. She mews like a feline as the pressure builds in her womb, her sexy ass beating rhythmically against the drywall.

"You feel so good," I reply, tugging the lace bra down under her breasts and copping a feel.

She wraps her limbs so tightly around me that I can feel her belly quiver against mine. Her eyes roll back from the rough pillaging of her temple. I continue to nail her, spreading her cunt wider, until my knees begin to shake. Her head slumps over my shoulder. Driving back into the clasping channel, I take a step back, careful not to lose my balance. She clings to me as I carry and deposit her on top of the wooden table.

Releasing her hold, she knocks over a bowl flopping back. I straighten my posture, pulling out of her grasping pussy.

"Don't!" She relents, swiping at my cock but missing.

I push my hand between her thighs and start thumbing her clit.

She braces herself on the wooden surface, while I flick madly at the little piece of flesh. Soon she's gurgling strings of monosyllables between haggard breaths.

Then her body goes rigid. My eyes pan over her exposed form, from her sensuous camera-ready waist to her motherly hips. I dip my cock back into her snatch. The combination of my youthful meat mixed with a clitoral orgasm floods her senses. Her disturbed countenance strews across her face, eyes clenched shut and mouth open. I slow my strokes just to watch her.

Her eyes open yet remain stagnant, gawking down at her own breasts. Tilting my head, I see why.

'Not again.'

The radiating diamond seems to mesmerize her.

"Why does it do that?" I blurt out.

My mother rubs her hands over my pecs but does not respond.

Suddenly, the velvet soft walls enveloping my cock compress like a steel grip.

The snugness of her creamy innards is almost too much.

'Is she trying to strangle my cock?'

"Fuck... me," my mother implores unsteadily.

Grabbing her by the hips, I pound my maleness into her womanhood. The table rattles in conjunction with every thrust into her slippery gorge. Her tired legs lay draped over the edge of the table, rocking to the cadence of our passion. I surge to the finish line, channeling the last of my adrenaline to shove my penis into her steamy trench and empty my balls. The delirious look on her face summons my seed from the deepest part of my soul. A salvo of cum erupts from my cock, spraying her womb with streamers of tiny swimmers.

Reeling and utterly zapped, I stoop to a knee and enjoy the music of my mother's soft breathing. No words are spoken while we wait for our energy to replenish. Her body lays lax across the table, except for one hand, which steadily rubs her sated pussy.

***********************

"Someone worked up quite an appetite," my mother observes while I scarf down the remaining scraps of toast and scrambled eggs from my plate. She gingerly crosses her legs in her seat. Though our clothes are a little creased, and her top is a bit uneven, there is nothing about the current setting that would trigger an alert to any earlier transgression that had taken place.

"It's really good," I acknowledge.

She rests her arms on the table. "I think you were just famished."

"If you keep making meals like this and that dinner last week, I might get spoiled."

She grins. "I don't mind spoiling you with food. After all, you've been the one filling me up the last couple days."

I cough nervously. "Wow, not the same thing."

"Well," she inspects her nails. "You don't know how overloaded my vagina felt after waking up to that massive wad of semen sloshing around my womb."

"...Or how sore and horny I've been all day," she adds in afterthought.

"I'm 18, I know how it feels being horny all the time." I point out.

"Well you certainly do surpass your father in that regard."

"Must be why you don't cook for him." I kid.

She takes a sip of her beverage. Having cleared my plate, I watch till she places the cup down before asking the real question on my mind.

"Mom, is there something I should know about your necklace?"

Her eyes, cool like the night ocean, percolate with interest.

"I don't know where you found it, but it's very special to me," she says.

'Obviously, you never take it off.'

"But it's kind of eerie... I mean don't get me wrong, it looks great on you. Just, I've never heard of jewelry glowing during sex," I remark.

She nods. "It does have a proclivity for intimacy."

"It's an inanimate object, though," I persist.

My mother remains steadfast.

"Isn't it?" I swallow.

She breaks the suspense. "Honey, I don't have all the answers. All I know is how I feel with it on."

"How you feel," I repeat underwhelmed.

'This isn't going anywhere.'

"Free," she replies crossing her arms. "For the first time in forever, I don't feel trapped under the weight of work, your father and his stupid decisions."

"How does making a sex tape or turning your son toward incest have anything to do with freedom?" I ask.

"It's changed so quickly. That first night wearing it I was so tipsy and overwhelmed with the idea of showing my body off to the camera. And when I woke up the next morning it was like someone else was talking for me. I heard myself lie to your father about feeling ill, but when he left for work I slipped into something comfortable and felt amazing."

"That's it?" I press her.

"Well I made some coffee and tried to preoccupy myself with chores around the house, but my brain just wasn't having it." She blushes and looks away from me.

"What?"

"I started getting these thoughts." She emphasizes the last word. "It was the middle of the day, and there was nothing to do. I went to my room and suddenly this urge to pleasure myself took over."

She covers her mouth with her hand. "I haven't masturbated in years, but my emotions were all a jumble. No matter how much I touched myself I couldn't climax. Not until I started getting these visions of your father."

She shakes her head. "Not sexual, just the image of him stuck at the office while I finger myself at home. It felt good, like I was putting him in his place. I pictured other men I find attractive, flipping through their faces as if they were in a magazine. Even that lost its luster as the minutes drifted by, and my mind began to wander back to work and chores and then you."

'She was thinking about you the day you walked in on her.'

"It was infuriating, having built up a giant orgasm only to have your son come smashing into your thoughts. I would have given up right then and there but my hand, for some reason my hand wouldn't stop moving. I tried pulling it away, but it only dug in deeper, which caught me off guard. And for some reason you were stuck in my mind. I was compelled to think about how uninvolved I've been in your life this year. The more I came to regret my role in the animus between us, the quicker my fingers seemed to strum, and the harder it was to deny myself."

"I blacked out imagining you catching me in that position," she finishes.

'Which is exactly what happened.'

"Wipe that look off your face. I'm not exactly proud of how it went down." She taps her foot against my leg.

"If it's making you do things you don't want to do..." I start.

"Oh, you're sweet. But that's not what I'm saying at all," my mother reassures me. "I've felt more alive in the last week than I have in years. Don't you feel it too?"

"I just want to make sure you're not like, possessed or something." I say half joking.

"You know you're very cute when you're restless," she teases.

"Were you serious about the divorce?" I ask.

"Yes. I even talked my attorney this morning while you were sleeping. And that reminds me..." She stands up and departs the room, only to return a moment later holding a medium sized cardboard box in her hands.

"Didn't have time to wrap it," she says handing it to me.

"Thanks," I reply before using a kitchen knife to cut the tape.

I see the logo first, which makes me smile.

"I figure you needed a new one after the water incident." My mother explains.

***********************

It only takes me a few minutes to activate my new phone, but it takes a few hours to properly thank my mother.

Having the house to ourselves, we capitalize on the lack of restrictions, fucking in front of the family room flat screen TV until my ass burns from carpet friction. We flip positions. My tongue licks up and in between the folds of her labia before burrowing into her pussy.

"Oh, sweetheart!" She cries and shudders as my nose brushes her clit.

I welcome the break from her intense blowjob.

'She has a throat designed to extract cum.'

Her gluttonous appetite wins out eventually, and I buckle. She moves my cock to one side of her mouth, so that her right cheek bulges out, and sucks me like a straw. Her other cheek expands to accommodate the yield of thick discharge, but some of the diaphanous liquid escapes, dribbling down to my balls. She waits till I'm finished jizzing before disengaging her lips and lapping up the gooey, leaking leftovers.

Later, we move to the laundry room. While the washer load is set to ultra-spin, I send another load deep into her as she perches above the vibrating mechanical bull. Then it's to the garage where we squish into the front seat of my father's leased BMW. The horn goes off twice, but we manage to purge the vehicle of its innocence after a half hour of sweaty twister.

Even being 18, and an athlete, I'm amazed by our endurance.

I don't know if it's the necklace, or that during every break my mother switches into new lingerie, (my favorite being the Red and Black Babydoll outfit), but the more we go at it the faster I seem to recharge. When we do pause for a brief cool down session, we end up talking openly about things we never have before. The honesty between us is still as foreign as the sex, but the more we share the worse I feel for judging her all these years. She tells me about plans she had when she first married my father. By her description, she never wanted to be the responsible one, she wanted to enjoy her youth. Little by little though, the high school sweetheart she married made it clear, through his mistakes, that she was going to have to take the reins to keep the family afloat. She prods me about my past relationships. I talk about Rachel and a couple other girls from school for a while. Then we cuddle, and I admit I'm gaining respect for my mother as a woman.

With every copulation we're growing closer and it's more than just sex. The evil bickering force I had learned to loathe was a fiction. What I had really fought with was a woman trapped in a miserable life that she didn't deserve.

***********************

'It's been an eventful day.'

"Ummmph!" My mother squeals through clenched teeth.

She squats down, back to me, sinking onto my girth.

"I love your cock!" She yells at me over her shoulder.

"It loves you too," I project while feeling the heat of our conjoined crotches. I lean in and kiss the back of her neck. Her jasmine perfume is toxic.

She starts to bounce on my lap. After a minute she yells again.

"Are you ready?"

'Ready as I'll ever be.'

I reach around her back and give her boobs an affirmative squeeze. She immediately kicks up the pace. My legs take the brunt of the force. The weight of her body starts smashing down on my lap repeatedly. She grips the armrests of the chair to elevate each bounce further up my dick before letting gravity do its job. Her knuckles turn white with stress as her magenta nails claw into the seat fabric. Her vulva repeatedly swallows my searing cock. She lets out a piercing scream at the sensation of being stuffed so quickly.

'It was her idea.'

"No foreplay, just sex this time. I want to finish you off with a hard fuck." She had said wearing only a silver halter neck bra and beige pumps.

Her brunette hair, somehow always sexy, whips my face as she continues to stretch her pussy on my rod.

She springs up again, but stalls so only the crown of my shaft remains rooted in the entrance of her cum repository. I hear her take a deep breath.

'She must be tired out.'

"Ohh Mom!" I groan as she forces herself down on my skinflute, twisting her hips to completely screw me into her tight, warm hole. Her pussy flexes around my buried dick and contracts like a hand squeezing a tube of blocked toothpaste. The voracious desire of her clenching vagina is too much to handle. She gyrates and urges me to flood her canal.

Crying out, my glans burst, spouting hot liquid, bathing her with, what feels like, every morsel of my being. She milks the load from my twitching cock.

"That's it baby, that's it, cum for mommy!"

A string of monosyllables and unintelligible words spill from my mouth. I think I actually say "mommy" at one point, which is a little embarrassing.

She turns and cups my face, lifting it toward her, and we lock eyes as she absorbs the last of my offering. Then she kisses me lightly on the lips.

"How could something this wrong feel so good?" I ask as we fall back on the sofa.

My mother licks my jawline up to my right ear and whispers. "It's never been wrong or filthy or bad..."

"What would you call it then?" I hold her tighter.

'Her skin is so soft.'

"Raw... objectively steamy... it doesn't need a fucking name," she gives me another sloppy kiss, pressing her ember lips hard against my cheek. Then she gets up, lifting off my fading erection.

"Hurry! Clean up, we have dinner soon." She sashays away. Just like the first time we fucked, I feel a huge burst of pride seeing a healthy dose of my semen spiderwebbing from her womanhood down her legs. She doesn't seem to mind at all.

***********************

We call in take out for dinner. My mother showers and puts on a low-cut tank top and jean shorts.

"What's with the formal attire?" I joke.

She squints at me but smiles. "I'm not answering the door in that." Her head tilts in the direction of a yellow thong and matching bra that have somehow ended up in the middle of the hallway.

"Speaking of which. I called a maid service to come in at 9 tomorrow to clean. This house can't look like this, especially the bedroom, when your father comes home."

'It's not like he's going to be staying here, right?'

I role my eyes. "9 is so early."

"I'll set an alarm," my mother states in a don't push me tone. "He could be back as early as Friday."

"Okay," I reply, raising both hands in compliance.

I finally decide to sort through the mass of missed messages on my new phone. Most are from Reece and Greg, asking if I'm dead or if I've heard about Cady's Second Summer Blowout on Friday.

'Her parents must be gone for the whole month.'

There is also another missed call from my ex-girlfriend, Rachel.

'Wow. That's like four times now. Why is she still calling?'

I shake my head.

"How's the phone working?" My mother inquires.

"Awesome. It's even waterproof."

"I sent you a picture for the background," she remarks.

"The one of you changing? I already saved it in my photos."

She lowers the shade above the sink.

"My friends are having a party Friday night, want to be my date?" I ask with a straight face.

"No thanks. I'll be busy breaking up with my husband," she responds.

Her lack of remorse turns me on.

'Or maybe it's just her legs... or the way she smells...'

"You should go." My mother turns to face me. "It'll make my job easier. I might even be able to convince your father to go to a hotel while the paperwork is filed. And once you're back from your little shindig, we can celebrate. Does that sound like a good plan?

"Celebrate like today?" I express hopefully.

She bites her lip deceptively. "Tell you what. When you get home, meet me in your room, and I'll let you do anything you want to me on that shabby twin bed of yours."

"Can't we just do that after dinner..." I suggest.

"I think we've had enough fun the last few days, but a little patience can bring about a lot of pleasure," she reasons.

'No thank you.'

"Jake, think about it." She senses my resistance. "You have the stamina of youth, but I've been draining you like a leach. I want to see how angry that thick monster becomes after two days of forced celibacy."