My Son, My Lover

I raised my knees, spreading myself wide open as I plunged the dildo in and out, in and out, in and out of my hot clenching cunt. I tried to recall my husband mounting me, taking me, and me taking him, needing him. I tried to recall his weight atop me, his strong thighs spreading my softer ones wide. I tried to recall his face over mine, his hands on my breasts, his cock filling my pussy.

Oh god, how I needed to orgasm. How I needed a man with me, on me, in me; his cock fucking me hard and fast and thoroughly. How I yearned for a pair of heavy balls slapping at my perineum. Still thrusting the hard rubber dildo in and out, my other hand found my clit, and rubbed it furiously. I felt the heat building in my belly, radiating down to my flowing pussy and upwards to my heaving breasts.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I whispered feverishly.

My feet curled. My back arched. I gave a low guttural cry as I orgasmed. I felt that wonderful warm blush on my cheeks and breasts. I twisted the dildo inside me, pressing it against the roof of my vagina, squeezing on it. Another orgasm ripped through me, and I bet my lips to keep from crying out. I pulled the drenched fake penis from me and brought it to my lips. I inhaled the scent of my own cum, and licked it, tasting my juices from the hard rubber, remembering how I’d done the same to my husbands cum-covered flesh relishing in our combined flavors from his so masculine flesh.

Suddenly, it was James’ cock, dripping with his cum and mine, and I was sucking it eagerly, hungrily. I recoiled from the thought. In an agony of guilt and shame, I put the dildo back into the drawer, and lay back. I felt my cum dribbling down my thighs. There was a large wet spot on the sheet under me. I lay awake, I don’t know how long, finally falling into an uneasy sleep.