Katrina Rules

She opened her eyes, blew me a kiss "That's sweet of you son, but maybe I haven't been clear. I want to make love to you. It's just that my eyes are bigger than my pussy, but I'm sure she'll come around."

I started with gentle little stabs, just an inch or two, enough to move deeper inside.

"Oh yes, son, that's it, nice and easy."

I lowered my body to hers. She cupped my ass cheeks and with subtle pressure let me know when to push harder, go deeper. Soon, inexplorably, I was all the way inside; my dick was buried in my mother's cunt, filling the place I'd come from. She held me tight, kissed me. I kissed her nose. She laughed.

"This feels good, it's been way too long since I've been fucked."

I curled at the waist, licked Mom's breasts, nibbled her nipples. She moaned, stroked my hair. Stretching my jaw, I took most of her small breasts into my mouth. My hands explored her body, caressed her shoulders and thighs, ran up her sides, tickled her ribs. She giggled, tried to slap my hands away, but soon surrendered and I touched and caressed wherever whatever I pleased. She rocked her hips against me, her motion growing stronger. With a sensual moan she grabbed my head, pulled it from her breast, and locked her mouth to mine in a kiss of fierce passion.

I started fucking her in short slow strokes. As our bodies adjusted I increased the length of each thrust until the full length of my cock was sliding in and out of her. Our kisses ended; our focus turned to my hard rod and her soft pussy. I pushed myself deeper and deeper into her. Mom quivered in excitement and pleasure; her head rocked back; her breathing grew stronger. I kept going, increasing my speed. Mom dug her fingers into my back. I lowered myself, laying on top of her and nestled my head to hers. Her purrs of delight signaled exactly how her body was responding to our love making.

We fucked like long acquainted lovers. Mom's breathing became rapid and irregular; her heart pounded in her chest. I slid forward, rolling her clitoris between our pubic bones.

"Oh wow, fuck, ooooooo my golly, harder, harder son."

I followed orders. She pushed her hips into me; her short nails dug deeper into my back. Her cunt was tight and warm; she wailed in delight.

"Ennh, ennh, eennnhhhhh, eeennnnhhhhh."

Her head flopped back; she moaned in hard short bursts, tension filing her voice. Her hands slid up my back to my shoulders; her jaw locked; she pulled herself into me, jerked, and came.

"Hhhhnnnnnnnnnnyyyuuuunnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Then, in a shaky voice, said, "Stop, I need you to stop, stop."

I did, resting my cock in her tight wet hole.

Her arms loosened on my back. She kissed the side of my head and pushed hair away from her sweaty face. The she smiled and in a voice bright and alive said, "You know what just happened?"

"You came?"

"I came while being fucked by my son. Do you think I'm a unfit mother, a dirty mother?"

"No."

"You sure, not a little bit?"

I kissed her. "Okay, a little bit bad."

We were quiet for awhile, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.

"I love you son."

"I love you too Mom."

She twitched her vaginal muscles.

"You're still hard?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't come?"

"No."

She took my hand in hers, studied it for a second, looked in my eyes. "My son is quite the stud." She kissed a fingertip, took the finger into her mouth, sucked on it.

"Ready for another round."

"Yes, mother."

Lifting myself up on my arms, I pulled back, pushed into her, sliding to the bottom of her pussy in a single stroke. Her breasts swayed; pleasure shone on her face. I increased the speed and strength of my movements, quickly passing the pace of our first fuck. Mom hooked her right leg over my calf.

It was clear, her pussy had fully adjusted to the incestuous invasion. "Fuck me son, hard. I want you to come inside me."

Mom started coming, one orgasm after another, surfing the top of a wave; a continuous string of happy murmurs flowed from her solar plexus. My breathing quickened; my climax was building. Mom wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my upper back, pulling me into her. Her pussy canal shivered in anticipation of each thrust.

I decided to slow it down, transitioning to a slower grinding motion, rolling my pubic bone over her clit. Mom, jaw clenched, adjusted her movements to mine, slid her clit over the base of my cock, skipping from orgasm to orgasm as we fucked on and on. Her hands were on my butt, helping guide my movements; her breathing came in ragged bursts of anguished need.

"My god, you're so good. Don't stop, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

I picked up speed, drilling deep into her. Mom matched me. I tried to hold on, to stall my orgasm, but Mom's hips began an involuntarily wiggle, my cock swirled around inside her. She pulled my mouth to hers, gave me a sloppy kiss, then let go and twisted the sheets in her hands as an orgasm consumed her body.

"Ooooohhhhh, mmmmmm, ohhhhhh, aaahhhhh, fucckkkk yesssss!"

I slowed a second, but Mom grabbed my ass and urged me on. I kept going, her vagina enveloped my cock. I quickened the pace, penetrating ever deeper. Mom squealed, "Oohh... oohh... oohh... oohh... oohh... oohh... mmph... mmph... mmph," and we fucked faster and faster. Slurping sounds from my thrusting cock filled the room; Mom moaned in uninhibited lust.

I was fucking her like a pile driver, my balls slapped against her. Mom rocked her hips into me, meeting each penetration with a grunt, "Ugghh, Ugghh, Ugghh, Ugghh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh," and push of her own. Our hips banged into each other.

I leaned up for better leverage, gave her longer strokes. Mom's pitch grew ever higher. She clawed my back, wrapped her legs around me; her hips undulated, rolled against mine; she mashed her clitoris into me.

"OOOOHHHH!! OOOOOHHHH!! OOOOHHHHH!!"

I couldn't take much more, my balls were boiling. Mom was writhing against me.

"Gonna come Mom, ready."

She screamed, as if possessed, "OOOOOHHHH!! YEEESSS!! OHHHH YESSSS!! OHHHHH YESSSS!! OHHH YESSS!!"

I jerked, grunted, shot my load into her warm wet depths. Mom came unglued, possessed by the detonation in her groins.

"OOHHH! OOHHH! UGGGHH! YESS! FUCK ME! OH GOD FORGIVE ME! I LOVE IT! AAAGGHH! OOOOHHHH!"

Her hips rocked wildly, her body shook; her scream was so fierce I was glad the next door neighbors had evacuated. I continued to pound her pussy, fire gobs of cum into her. She dug her fingers into my back; her cunt muscles clamped down on my prick; I unleashed a final burst of semen, flooding her womb; I rolled off her, sucking in desperate deep breaths. She leaned her body against mine. I kissed her mouth, her neck. Mom stroked my hair. "Such a good boy. So big and strong."

We were spent; we held each other. My body, like hers, was coated with sweat. I kissed her. She tasted of salt.

"That was amazing."

"Mmm hmm," she sighed in happy agreement

We lay motionless, tried to catch our breath. Occasionally I'd reach over, toy with her breast, touch her face. She cooed softly in my ear.

Finally I staggered to the bathroom, peeled off the remnants of the condom, at some point we'd shredded it, returned to our bed. Mom rested her head on my chest, kissed my nipple. I stroked her hair.

"Can't say I liked Katrina, but I do like Katrina Rules."

"Me too," she replied.

I figured I better tell her.

"How would you feel about more children?"

"I always wanted more. Something you need to tell me?"

"By the time I took it off there wasn't much condom left."

* * * *

Mom had insisted on going to the doctors by herself. I was waiting for her on the porch; when she pulled up I opened her car door. She looked like she had cried a bit on the way home. I offered her my hand, walked with her into the house. She sat on our love seat and I fixed a cup of her favorite tea. I put my arm around her and she snuggled up to me. After a few minutes she said, "It's official, I'm pregnant."

I kissed the top of her head. She asked me whether I was sure about this, about the commitment. I told her the truth.

"I'm a little sacred, but I'm sure. As to the commitment, it's already made; it ain't going nowhere."

"I love you son."

"I love you Mom."

* * * *

In the wake of the storm people whose homes had been destroyed in New Orleans and adjoining towns poured into our community; property prices sky-rocketed. Mom sold the house to an oil executive who'd evacuated to Houston. Because his children had already enrolled in school there we'd be able to stay through the following summer.

Mom, betting on New Orleans' comeback, purchased adjoining properties in the Marigny. Tulane did not reopen until January, and then with a reduced faculty and class schedule. With the help of some of Mom's contractor friends and the innumerable church groups that poured into New Orleans. much of my time was spent renovating the properties. By the time the oil executive returned, our home was ready for occupation. We moved into it a month after our daughter, Katrina Rae, was born.

Two years later I finished at Tulane and took a job at a graphic arts firm. A few months later Mom left the big law firm and opened an office in the now-finished building next to our home. She focused her practice on New Orleans' burgeoning arts scene, providing services to young artists unable to afford big firm rates. We had also decided to have another child.

Four years later two friends and I went out on our own, which is why on this Friday afternoon no one complained when I left the office at 3:00 P.M. to pick up my nine year old daughter and the five year old twins, Brandon and Ruth, from school. When I got home the kids galloped out of the car, eager to see Mom's paralegal, whom they'd dubbed Uncle Charlie. I followed them into the house, noted Mom's door was closed. Charlie, kids crawling all over him, explained.

"She's in there with Amiri, finalizing the settlement."

A barely altered scene from one of Amiri's recent plays had shown up in the midst of a recent Hollywood success. Mom had milked all the publicity she could out of the faux pas, then negotiated a handsome monetary settlement. Amiri was suddenly in demand.

Mom had become what she had intended to become, a nursemaid to New Orleans post-Katrina arts renaissance. An expert in intellectual property, she advised the city's struggling, up and coming, and newly successful artists without worrying about time sheets and hourly rates. Don't feel sorry for us; we lived well. Dad's sizeable estate, the money Mom made before her career change, the sale of the house in Abita, and the steady stream of referrals from big firms when they had a conflict of interest, along with my own moderate success, guaranteed that.

Mom's door opened. The kids peeled off Uncle Charlie, heading for Uncle Amiri. He scooped them up.

Mom said, "Okay gang, you're bags are in the back. Go get 'em."

As the kids scurried off, Mom turned to Amiri, "I appreciate your help."

Amiri was keeping the kids overnight, taking them to a rehearsal of his latest play, then to the loft apartment he shared with his girlfriend in Mid-City.

"After everything you've done for me Natalie, it's nothing. Congratulations by the way, and say hello to the President."

Oh, I guess I left that out. It was the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. President Obama was in town, set to make a speech the next day. Tonight he was to be the guest of the Mayor's at an event at Gallier Hall honoring the Unsung Heroes of Katrina. Among them was Mom. I stepped forward, put my arm around her shoulder, kissed the side of her head, lay a hand on a very pregnant belly. The first two had been planned, this one an accident.

"Yes, congratulations."

The kids left with Amiri, we said good night to Charlie, adjourned to our home next door. I donned my tuxedo; my eight month pregnant mother was stunning in a full length red gown. At Gallier Hall we mingled, ate superb hor's d-oeuvres, skipped the alcohol, heard some very nice things said about Mom, shook the president's hand, met the first lady, chatted with the mayor. After staying the appropriate amount of time, we left. At home I opened her car door and offered her my hand to help her out. She was moving gingerly.

"You okay?"

"Lower back's stiff."

Inside she lay on her side and I massaged her back, working out the kinks and knots, loosening the taut muscles. After thirty minutes she thanked me. I stood, helped her up, held her from behind, kissed her neck, rubbed my hands over her belly. I undid the clasp behind her neck; her gown fell open to her waist. I unhooked her bra.

"Y'now the kid are gone, we should take advantage..."

She turned in my arms, a look of happy exasperation on her face. "You find me attractive, all fat like this."

"Fat? I see no fat." I covered a breast with a hand, squeezed; I felt a drop of milk.

"Plus, your tits are never going to be this big again."

"Men."

She leaned against me. I hummed a tune. We swayed back and forth, our arms around each other.

"It was ten years ago tomorrow when Katrina hit," I whispered.

"Yes, I remember. That was the first time you massaged my back."

"And ten years ago Monday I slipped a finger inside you."

"I remember that too."

"And ten years ago Tuesday I entered you."

"That was unforgettable."

She looked up at me. We kissed, a peck, a couple more pecks, then mostly lips. She tasted slightly of caviar. I explored her mouth with my tongue, slowly and gently and for what seemed a long long time. I tugged off my tie, undid the buttons of my dress shirt, tossed them aside, covered her mouth with mine, pulled her tight, moved to her neck, ran my lips up it, ending at her ear. I took my time; Mom's ears were very sensitive. I stepped back and for the ten-thousandth time looked over my mother's body. She still took my breath away. Growling in need, taking her hand in mine, I stepped back and sat on the arm of a chair. She stood before me, breathing heavily, her eyes clouded with lust, her pregnant belly resting against my legs, her breasts level with my face. Her areolas were brown, the nipples rock hard. I kissed the top of her tits.

"May I?" I asked.

"Be careful, they're full of milk."

I massaged her breasts, leaned forward, kissed a nipple, rolled her areolas between my thumbs and index fingers. A drop of mild leaked from her left breast. I lowered my face, took the nipple into my mouth, sucked lightly. A few more drops spilled into my mouth. I took her other breast in my hand, massaged it. Mom made little mewing noises, her breathing became more rapid; I slipped a leg between hers, pressed it to her pussy.

I took the other nipple in my mouth and was rewarded with another squirt of milk. I suckled gently; Mom's hands went to the back of my head, holding me to her chest. She dragged her sex on my leg, making short staccato moans, each one releasing a bit of the tension building within her.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh."

She undid my belt, pulled my pants past me knees, and lowered her body to my leg. When I fully supported her weight, she slid her pussy on my thigh. I put my hands on her waist I, supported her; her moans grew ever more intense. Then, unexpectedly, her arms jerked, her forearms pressed to the side of my head, she gasped, she came. I let her breast slip from my mouth, looked into her happy smiling face.

"I think its time we moved to the bedroom."

Holding my pants around my waist with one hand, Mom's hand with the other, I led her down the hall. While she took a pit stop, I disrobed and lit some candles, Mom, standing in the doorway, watched. I walked over, kissed her, ran a fingertip along the side of her breast. It swayed with my touch.

"You are simply stunning."

"Thank you son."

She ran a finger down the muscles of my arm and across my pecs.

"I love your body."

She sat on the side of the bed, leaning back on her hands. I knelt on the floor, spread her legs. During her pregnancies she had a slightly different scent, but the intense odor of her arousal remained unmistakable. Mom was excited, her body thrumming with carnal desire. I brought my face closer, breathed in deeply, inhaling her musky scent. I blew a stream of air onto her clit, held my mouth just above her sex, took another whiff.

I love the smell of my mother's pussy; I love eating her pussy. I ran my tongue over the smooth vaginal lips, up her labia, over her throbbing clit, nuzzled my nose in her pubic hair, repeated the journey; the pressure of my tongue growing more insistent. Mom trembled, slumped onto her back, drawing closer and closer to a climax. I spread her pussy lips with my fingers, sucked her erect clit into my mouth, whipped it with my tongue: over and over, nonstop, relentless; the way she liked it. She came, bucking on the bed, her full belly shaking.

I inserted two fingers into her cunt, it was still spasming. When I found her g-spot she arched her back; sucked in her breath. Keeping the pressure constant, I picked up speed, pushing and pulling my fingers over the magic place inside her. Mom writhed on my hand.

"Ohh... uhh... uhh..."

I rested my forehead on her pregnant belly. Her odor was pungent, stronger than normal, intoxicating. Pulling the fingers from her vagina to masturbate her clit, I pushed my tongue past her pussy lips and explored inside, taking the time to appreciate the tastes, the textures, the aroma and wetness of my mother's vagina. Her moans grew ever more intense. She reached around her swollen stomach, held my head to her, started rocking her hips, and came, closing her legs on my head.

After her pulse slowed, I stood, took her hand, helped her to a sitting position. Drops of milk leaked from her breasts, flowing in separate rivulets down the side.

I bent at the waist and kissed her perfect lips. She kissed me back. "I want you inside me."

"I'd like that, but I'm guessing you should be on top."

I lay down, helped Mom get in position, took hold of my erection, placed it at the entrance to her body. Mom was ready, eager. She wriggled her hips, lowered herself. The cockhead slipped to the side, we tried again, same result. On the third try I was inside, working my cock into her tight squeezing cunt. It felt excruciatingly good.

Eyes shut, hair spilling over her shoulders, head bent slightly forward, she was entirely focused on our conjoined bodies. She took a long breath, blew the air back out between parted lips. She was beautiful and sexy and I was in awe of her. She lifted her head, opened her eyes, looked ahead with a vacant stare, and said, "So good, so fucking good." Then she looked at me. "I love you son, love you so."

I placed two hands on her pregnant belly, smiled broadly. "Love you too Mom."

Starting with slow short motions, I filled her with my cock. Mom rocked back and forth; I increased the length of my strokes, moving deeper inside her. Mom ground her hips into me, grunting, "Uhh, Uhhh, Uhhhh, Uhhhh," each time I bottomed out in her. Her grunts became louder, more intense, running into each other until, shaking and bucking, she came. Milk leaked from her breasts; cunt cream was flowing down my thighs.

She laid her hand on my chest. "My back's still a little sore. Would you mind, from behind?"

That was not going to be a problem. "No ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me."

"Yes ma'am."

Mom rolled off me, lay by my side. I ran my hands through her hair. We nuzzled, snuggled, smiled. I licked her neck, nibbled on an ear lobe, kissed down her chest. I made love to her breasts, licking slowly up the sides, flicking a nipple. Her breasts were swollen with milk. Whenever some leaked out I licked it up, sweet and watery. I caught a nipple in my mouth, squeezed her breast, drank some more.