My Mom is a Hot Mom Ch. 07

"Thanks for the game party, Randy," Mason said. "Thanks to your mom, too. Where is she?"

He looked around, and Alex and Tucker did too. They looked chagrined at the prospect of leaving without seeing her one more time. But mom was nowhere to be seen.

"Not sure where she is," I said. "She probably has some things to do. But I'll tell her you said thanks and good bye."

They all looked around one more time, then said their farewells, and walked out the front door. I closed the door behind them. Football and my friends were behind me. Time with mom was ahead. I needed it like nothing I'd ever needed before.

Before I'd walked three feet from the door I heard the clacking of mom's wedge heels on the floor, and a second after that I saw her running around the corner from the hallway, toward me. She was naked again. She kept running, and when she got close she jumped onto me. In an instant her legs were wrapped tightly around my hips and her hands were at the back of my neck.

She pressed her mouth against mine. I think I saw stars, or something that could only be described as stars, glowing and hot against a sky of desire and need. I put my hands under mom's ass to hold her up and steady her, and I grabbed it hard, pressing my fingers in and pulling her against me. I repositioned her slightly so the bare gap between her legs was pressed tightly against my pants-covered crotch. I stood like that for what seemed like minutes, mom in my arms, kissing me with crazy urgency. Her tongue was a ravenous animal against mine. I spread her ass cheeks wide with my hands, and in a mirror on the opposite entryway wall I could see her puckered, pretty anus peeking out from the cleft of her bottom.

I want to see it all, feel it all, and fuck it all, I thought. I intended to do that, right then and there.

Before I could do anything, though, the doorbell rang, and I think I jumped a foot off the ground, even with my mom in my arms. Mom jumped in my arms, too. We both looked at the door, and before we could react we heard the knob turning. Somebody was coming in! Mom jumped down from my arms. As the door began to open she moved to the side of it rather than backward, where she would have been seen, and as the door swung wide she hid behind it.

It was Tucker.

I immediately moved to the door to block him from coming in and to keep him from seeing my naked mom, who was shielded from his sight by only a slender panel of wood.

"Tucker, what's up?" I tried not to sound annoyed, but I was -- at his interrupting me and at his entering without permission.

"Hey, Randy, sorry, but I left my sunglasses here. They should be in the living room. I can get them."

He started to push past me, but I stopped him with a light hand on the chest.

"Don't bother," I said. "You stay right here. I'll get them."

I stared at him to confirm he would stay, and he seemed to accept my instruction. I backed away from the door, trying very hard not to glance at my naked mom right behind the door. I jogged to the living room, and, sure enough, Tucker's sunglasses were on the arm of the sofa on which he'd been sitting. I grabbed them and ran back to the front door.

Fortunately, Tucker hadn't moved, and he obviously hadn't seen or become aware of my mom, who stood bug-eyed and still behind the door and looked like she was holding her breath.

I handed the glasses to Tucker.

"Thanks, Randy. Sorry to barge in."

He looked around one more time.

"Sorry I couldn't say goodbye to your mom. Tell her thanks for the food."

"I will. See you, Tucker."

Tucker left, finally, and I closed the door behind him, again. I locked it this time. Then I looked at my mom. She exhaled loudly. We both laughed.

"I'm still shaking," mom said. "I've spent the whole day almost getting caught."

"You did. But mom, I think you kind of liked it."

"Yeah, I guess so." Mom's breathing calmed down and she looked intently at me. "You're getting to know me too well. A son shouldn't know some things about his mom."

"I want to get to know you a lot better, mom. A lot better."

Mom paused, and almost said something, but didn't. Instead she strode toward me and reached for my waist. I felt my shirt coming up and I raised my arms and mom swept it off me. Here eyes were wide and intent with hunger . . . for me. She put her hands up and I felt her fingernails dig into the muscles of my chest. She pressed them in and ran them down, over my nipples and onto my abdomen -- not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to hurt. But I wasn't about to stop her.

Her hands drew together at the waistband of my pants and she unbuttoned and unzipped them and yanked them, together with the boxer briefs I was wearing underneath, down hard over my hips and thighs, until all my clothes were piled on the floor and I stood in the entryway as naked as my mom was. She pushed down on my shoulders and I followed the pressure until I knelt on the ground, knees against hard, cold tile. Mom pushed on my chest then, and I lay back until my body was stretched out on the floor. My cock stood straight up, fully erect, from my supine figure, and with no further delay mom took it and descended on it like an animal.

It went straight up and inside her descending mouth, all the way, until her lips ground against my pubic hair. I sat up on my elbows enough to see what mom was doing, and I loved the sight of it. Mom's face, hair all askew and flying in every direction, bobbed up and down over my hardness, her lips tight and wet against me.

I'd had blow jobs before, but never one this good. Mom didn't just want to please me, she wanted to please herself -- wanted to take and devour her son's hard cock, the visible proof of his desire and lust for her. I couldn't tell exactly tell how mom was doing it -- with her tongue, with her cheeks, with whatever -- but she closed her mouth around the length of my cock so well that it felt as good as fucking any pussy I'd ever had. Up and down, on and on it went. Mom wouldn't stop.

I didn't want it to stop, either. She'd transported me to a place I'd never been, and I didn't want to leave. I couldn't wait to feel the discharge of my impending orgasm into her mouth and to know every drop of it was in mom's belly.

But I wanted something else, too, even more than a blow job, however it was. I wanted to feel myself inside my mom, between her legs, where I knew I was meant to be.

Between the steady up and down thrusts of mom's head and my irregular gasping it was hard to get the words out, but at least I managed.

"Mom, I love this. But I need you. I need to fuck you. Let's do it. Now. Mom, let me fuck you."

Mom heard me and looked up at me, her face framed by her disheveled hair. One hand kept stroking me.

"I know you want it, Randy. I want it to. I want you to fuck me. But not yet. Not just yet. Wait a little longer. I'll give you something else, though."

Mom's mouth plunged back on my cock, but the rest of her body rotated around my cock until she raised a leg and straddled me, her ass now over my face and her pussy, now gaping and visibly wet, directly over me. The pink open gash hovered over me for perhaps ten seconds, and then it came down. Mom pressed her eager pussy against my mouth.

Instinctively I put my tongue forward and it entered her, past her parted lips and into her depths. And then, wonder of wonders, I tasted the inside of my mom. I pushed my tongue in as far as it could go. I breathed deeply and savored her fresh womanly scent. My lips danced with hers -- sucking on them, spreading them. I took her flesh between my teeth and nibbled gently on it.

All the while mom devoured my cock in a steady but frenzied rhythm. I felt the familiar swell inside me, the wave of orgasm coming on. I tried to push back against it. I wasn't ready to come, but it was hard to suppress it. On each upstroke I felt my hips and my entire body lift with her. I was dimly aware of the discomfort of the cold floor underneath me. I knew a comfortable bed was nearby. But there was no way either one of us was going to move, not until we were done. My cock needed her mouth and her cunt needed mine.

Mom's cunt. I'd seen it for the first time, several weeks earlier, on the sofa. I'd seen it many times in the weeks since then. I'd fantasized and dreamed about it, and I'd even sprayed my cum on the outside of it. I'd watched my juices dribble down in the shower between her lips. Now, at last, my mouth was on her, tickling her, tasting her, fucking her furiously with my tongue.

I wanted to make mom come. I pulled my tongue from her depths and went to work on her clit. I swirled, I tickled, I mashed. I flicked the tip of my tongue right over her exposed nub, gently at first but then faster, increasing the pressure by the minute. Mom showed her approval by pressing down on me. I heard a moan escape her mouth, still full of my cock.

The sensation of being blown by my mom was so exquisite that it would have been easy to focus only on that and to stop concentrating on my ministrations to her own sex. But I was determined to be a good son and a good lover and to make her come first.

I grabbed her ass cheeks hard as my tongue kept massaging her pert clit. I felt a shudder go through mom's body, and I shuddered and moaned in response. I could tell she was getting near. I kept up a fast but steady rhythm on her, never relenting and never pausing. I had no sense of time. It might have been five minutes since we had started. It might have been twenty. Mom and I were in a world of our own, a world forged by our mutual white-hot lust. Nothing else mattered in that world -- the passage of time, the coldness of the hard floor, the possibility of being caught. All that mattered to me was the taste and scent and feel of mom's wet cunt, and the consuming need to bring her off.

Her body shuddered again, and she let out another moan from her cock-filled mouth, this moan higher-pitched than the last. I felt her body losing control. Her mouth's grip on my cock loosened. Then mom started moaning more audibly, almost squealing: "Unh, unh, unh."

With no further warning, mom shrieked and her pussy spasmed away from my face. My tongue lost contact with her clit and I felt my chin and cheeks doused in warm wetness. I lapped up what I could with my tongue. Mom's body shook and shuddered over me, displaying the wet, pink gash of her sex to my still hungry eyes.

Mom gave her orgasm almost no time to subside before she went back to work on my cock. I felt strong, thin fingers clasp my balls, gently kneading them. The other hand pulsed against the base of my shaft. The rest of my cock was enveloped by mom's mouth.

I could concentrate fully on my mom's cock-sucking, now. She was good -- very good. The best I'd had. Her hands and mouth worked in tandem with expert skill. I briefly wondered how many cocks mom had sucked in her life. Had mom been a slut before she met dad? Had she fucked and sucked a lot of guys? It was curious, in a vague, far-off kind of way. I knew I'd find out more about my mom's past later. But it didn't matter whether she'd had a slutty past. All that mattered now was that she was my slut.

The swell returned, rising inside me and cresting on its way to my cock. Mom's mouth and hands sucked and milked me in a frenzy, drawing the wave out of me. My hips bucked uncontrollably, but the bucking didn't stop mom from her cock sucking. Her mouth and my sex were joined, and the sensation was the sweetest and purest I'd ever felt.

I came then, suddenly. I could have sworn I felt my cock bulge like a firehose as the cum passed through it. I felt the hot jet from my cock head. Mom felt it too, I could tell, because her lips clamped tightly on my shaft just behind the bulb while her hands kept milking me. There was a lot of cum. Mom half gagged as she gulped it down, but she didn't stop. She kept going, and I kept spewing cum into her mouth. I lost count of how many times she had to swallow to take it down. But at last, my cock stopped pulsing and mom stopped swallowing.

Mom finally pulled her mouth off my cock and gasped for air. I could see at once that despite her efforts she hadn't swallowed everything. Some cum still lay visibly pooled in her mouth and rivulets of it leaked out either side of her lips onto her chin. After she caught her breath she smiled at me, open-mouthed and spent, and I smiled back.

We sat like that for another minute or two, breathing heavily and staring at each other. She didn't take her hand off my cock the whole time.

Then, she did. Both of us fell back on our elbows, and then each of us half crawled, half slid across the entry floor, away from each other until each of us turned and lay our backs against the entry walls, opposite each other. We sat and looked at each other, gasping for breath and with limbs sweaty and askew. Neither of us said anything right away. We were like two prize fighters that had just battled each other to a draw, and neither of us could find the words to describe the trial we'd just gone through. The triumph of release gave way to a warm blissful buzz in my belly.

"I loved that mom. I love you. But when? When?"

A sly smile curled on her face in small, fitful steps. Her gaze never left mine for an instant.

"Soon, Randy, soon."

Mom bit the tip of her pinky finger.

"You have a birthday coming up in a few days, Randy."

I'd completely forgotten. Mom was right.

My birthday. I wouldn't forget again.

Damn.