SECRECY IS IMPORTANT

My eyes fluttered open slowly and I was immediately aware of "him" on top of me, screwing me. I was on my back, my legs straight out and spread a bit. It took me a second or two to realize "the him" was not my husband, Bruce, but, Clarence, my 26-year-old son, getting a piece of my ass. I could tell he had not been at it long as his rhythm was uncertain, still moderately benign, and his breathing could barely be heard or felt against my neck.

I was not overly concerned as it was not his first time mounting me, nor was it likely to be the last. I had taught him to be a courteous lover as he supported his weight on his elbows and toes, as he straddled my thighs, his T-shirted chest weighting lightly on my bare tits, in his awkward and precarious position. As I was not actively positioned or engaged, my stretched out posture, beefy thighs and shallow spread did not allow him to get his insignificant length, a mere 4 1/2 inches, properly inside of me. Still, his rock-hard firmness kept the domed head inserted inside my pussy, not popping out as his action was more of a recurring stab than a stroke..

My memory quickly returned and I realized I must have passed out coming out of the shower. One would think one would learn from past experiences and not shower when you're intoxicated and popping pills. My head felt like it was going to explode but I had to push it aside. My simple-minded son was always my first concern. I let him continue without letting him know I was conscious. I wasn't sure I was even going to let him know.

He had been out on the deck of our cabin fixing a log cable that had come loose during last night's storm. His dad had gone on a hunting trip two days earlier and Clarence had been grabbing my ass and fondling my tits all morning, which I allowed and enjoyed when we were alone. With some difficulty, I managed to keep him focused on the job at hand, but I knew I was going to have to service him before or after lunch, and a little liquor always smoothed out my inhibitions, not that I really needed to be inebriated to screw the boy. I had apparently consumed more than I thought or my pills had not mixed well with the alcohol.

I remembered sitting on the deck watching him and consuming my fourth drink, and thinking that I needed my morning shower before giving Clarence what he desired. His father had screwed me in the wee hours of the morning before leaving, two day ago, and I was more than ready to play. Clarence had apparently found me on the floor passed out. It must of been some effort for him to get me to, and on, the bed. But the boy had ample muscles and finding me nude on the floor gave him incentive. Still, I would need to shame him for taking liberty with his unconscious mama.

At 53, I am not the slim woman or the looker I use to be a mere 10 years ago. At 5'7", 197lbs, my weight is concentrated in my lard ass, sagging breasts, a bit of a belly, and ample thighs that, if you listen carefully in the quiet, steep mountains of British Columbia, create a scratching sound when I walk in jeans.

On the plus side, the abundant red hair between my legs, matching the shoulder length hair of my top knot, sets me apart from the other wives around our ultra-deep lake community. Though maybe not as positive, due to my proclivity last summer to spread my legs for a hand full of the nearby married men, it is rumored my thick red pubic hair is still a favorite topic when they gather and my husband is not among them.. My half-witted son, who sees it more than his father, finds the color mesmerizing .

No one, fortunately, knows or suspects our incestuous relationship. At the moment, I am now tense and concerned. Our cabin has abundant windows with only the ones facing the lake touting curtains. Clarence had, out of necessity, no doubt, deposited me on my and his father's bed on the main cabin floor, his bed being in the small loft. Clarence is too simple-minded to care about being caught, though he does seem to understand that what we do sexually is our secret and would make his dad really angry. The boy manages to keep his hands to himself when his dad or others are around.

I'm laying here worrying about the abundance of unshielded windows, knowing how easy and disastrous it would be for a neighbor to stop by and see him screwing me, if they happen to look through a side window, or even the window of the front door which has the curtains pulled open. On our lake, the nearest cabin is ½ mile distance. I am hoping everyone is home eating their lunch as Clarence's poking is beginning to have an arousing effect. My body is beginning to feel warm and my pussy is beginning to yearn for a little more of what little is at hand. Let me be honest here! Clarence's cock leaves a bit to be desired when it comes to depth of penetration, but his amply packed, smoked sausage thickness makes up for his length quite nicely.

"Clarence, sugar." I say, finally throwing caution to the wind, placing my hands on his hips. "Let mama get her legs up."

We maneuver together as he knee-steps his legs between mine as I spread and lift my legs up. His cock popped free and I reach to acquire it, placing it back to my fuck-hole. I hear him moan lightly and his body quivers at my handling of him. I squirm my ass as he enters me, pushing his cock as deep as possible into me. As I said, this is not our first time and he knows what's required of him. We are now properly coupled.

"Don't be in a hurry, baby." I direct. "Give Mama a chance to catch up."

In less than a minute, I am fully engaged, thrusting my ass up, matching his, now, stroking rhythm. His thick cock is scrubbing the inner-walls of my vagina making it come live. The windows are forgotten.

****

History;

Clarence was just over 20. My son was "Special" and having a bad day, whimpering and sighing with despair for no reason I could get him to admit to. At our home in Port Hardy, his father at work, I sat on the couch with him and cuddled him closely. He nuzzled my clothed right breast. As I often did around the house, I wore no bra. In desperation, I was mentally searching, I unbuttoned the first three buttons of my house dress and exposed my right breast. Cupping it, I offered him my deflated, mostly flat, nipple. Accepting it, he suckled at my nipple and I could see the calmness settle in. I became aware of both nipples firming up, through I was not aroused in any way. It seemed so innocent and casual at the time that months following I did not hesitate to release my breast when we were alone and it seemed necessary.

Then one evening he was distraught and could not sleep, so, alone at home as we were, I climbed into bed with him and offered him a nipple. Still uncovered, he wearing boxer shorts, I saw he had erection. I had seen him naked many times, even erect occasionally. Never gave it a thought! But this time, after a few minutes of his suckling, me staring at the bulge in his pants, I succumbed to the desire to touch, then, squeeze it. Minutes later, I desired to bring it forth - to see it - to touch it more. Toying with his bare manhood, appraising it for the first for what it was - its purpose - I was impressed not so much by its length but by its thickness. Knowing it was wrong to handle him, I went to put it back. He pleaded with me to continue, then, to stroke it.

Trying to explain to him the incestuous connotations of doing that would have been like talking to a brick wall and my aroused being offered me no leniency. I continued to fondle with his cock until I was soon stroking it with intent to give him an orgasm. As I masturbated him, he sucked hungrily on my firm nipple. When he ejaculated, he released my nipple and groaned loudly with an open mouth. I was again impressed, no, amazed, at the amount of cum that shot forth.

That evening, after cleaning him up, covering him, kissing him good night, I retired to my own room. A sleepless night awaited me! I fingered my pussy numerous times, with short naps in between. With every one of my orgasms, the phrase, "fill my pussy", took on a whole new meaning as my mind revisited the large amount of cum that had erupted from the head of my son's cock, flowing onto my hand in a warm cascade.

Afterward, I often found his boxer's front stiff with dry semen. Apparently, I had started something and knowing his orgasm to be substantial and uncomfortable to wear through the night, I lovingly suggested he use a sock. Neither of us even blushed or laughed nervously. He asked if I minded him doing it without me and I assured him I did not and it was quite natural.

Needless to say, my indiscretion set a precedent. Clarence started expecting me to masturbate him whenever I offered him a nipple to calm him down. I had to threaten to withhold whatever I felt would work at the time, which generally turned out to be the very thing he was being so unruly and obstinate to get me to do.

With the passing of a few months, I became as familiar with my son's cock and balls as he was with my nipples. When possible, which was often, we showered, and occasionally took a bath, together. From the first time we showered together, I knew he was fascinated with the red hair between my legs and why we were "different" - down there. I always changed the subject. It was in my large master bathtub that Clarence first asked to look and, then, touch me - my pussy. I reclined back and spread my thighs to let him have a one minute look, but to touching, the first time I said "no".

When he asked again, I had not been surprised. I shut the water off leaving only a couple of inches of hot water covering our butts, and, leaning back, spreading my legs, I gave him a tour of my twat.

"It might surprise you to know that as a newborn baby, you, came out of this hole. Nature has a way of making it stretch bigger." I said, pulling my labia wide. "And, you know, that creamy white semen that comes out of you when you ejaculate? Well, when your dad is stiff he puts his thing into this hole and when he comes - ejaculates - it goes into my belly and sometimes makes a baby. Of course! You cannot put your cock inside me because I'm your mama. I can't become pregnant but it still would not be right. What I do - touching you and jerking you off - is not what mamas and sons normally do. It would make your dad real angry and he'd want you sent off. That is why we must keep things secret!"

"But you're going to let me touch it this time?" He asked with anticipation.

"You see this little bitty nipple right here?" I asked, pointing to my clit. "This is what you touch to make Mama feel really good like when I touch you. But you go ahead and touch anywhere you want to. Just be soft and gentle!"

My eyes involuntarily closed with the feeling of his fingers roaming over my vagina. "No, no. You can't do that!" I protested, then realized my fingers still held my hole open. "Just this once, if you want to put your finger inside me, flip your hand over and extend only your middle finger. Easy! It's warm inside there, isn't it?"

"Here, honey! Let's try something." I offered, feeling a bit bold. "Come and knell between my legs. We can pretend that you have your stiff cock up inside of me. That's it, just like we are hugging. I'm going to wrap my fingers around your cock and I'll show you how to move like we are screwing - or fucking - or making love. The words mean the same. Think of what we are doing as playing, "daddy and mama".

A bit more maneuvering and direction and I was soon holding my hand still and in position while Clarence fucked the hole I made with my hand and fingers. In short order, he moaned in orgasm, shooting his semen onto my belly and furred mound. I stared at the inch long length atop my pubic hair.

"You did good, Clarence!" I praised. "You now know how to make love to a woman."

"I like to fuck, Mama!"

That evening, I taught him to palm my pussy, extend his middle finger - while palming - and finger fuck me, and finger my clit to orgasm. So strong was my orgasm, he thought he had hurt me.

It became his preferred way of getting a hand-job whether in the bathtub or bed. It took a bit of getting use to in bed, positing his body to make it as real as possible, having a stiff cock so close to my fuck-hole, my knees lifted, legs wide, putting it to me would have been so easy and was often so tempting when I had not come first. It became my habit to come first because of the temptation! I did enjoy having a warm body between my legs! The real temptation, really, only minor, was when I sometimes controlled the head of his cock to get a second orgasm, scrubbing my clit.

The bathtub thing had me feeling quite high. As we washed each others bodies, me, washing his cock, him, scrubbing my pussy, causing me much of pleasure, I set my sights on teaching him a bit more. As we toweled each other dry, I offered him the option of putting on his underwear or remaining naked, while joining me in my bed to watch TV. He opted as I figured he would. He asked if I too would remain naked. He was all smiles when I nodded yes.

He was 21 and a few months. Just as I figured his cock returned to firmness as we lay side-by-side on top of the bedding, me, pretending to watch TV, him, making no secret of studying my naked form, my legs out-stretched and together. Without any words, or glancing his way, I reached, real casual like, to take hold of his erection, toying, then, stroking it lightly.

"Clarence? Would you like to learn how to kiss a girl?"

"Sure!"

I beckoned him to me, telling him to straddle my thighs, and spent a few minutes instructing him in the art of kissing. I reminded him that all this too was our little secret, assuring him that he could kiss me whenever we were alone or playing "daddy and Mama". We now had a phrase for sex. We kissed for long minutes - long and short kisses - no tongue.

"Would you like to see where you came from again?" I quizzed.

He did not answer but moved quickly to the bottom of the bed. I spread my legs, bringing my knees up, placing my feet flat on the bed. He moved in for a bird-eyed view.

"A girl likes her ass and thighs touched." I instructed. "Squeeze my buttocks and use the back of your hands to stroke the inside of my thighs."

Between squeezing and stroking he explored my pussy once more with his fingers. He pulled lightly at my pubic hair and lightly compressed my puffy mound with his forefinger.

"Put your nose inside by bush. It's smells sweet and soapy, doesn't it? My pussy is very clean, Clarence. Run your nose between the lips of my pussy. I'm not going to hold it open for you this time. Use you tongue to spread the lips. Oh yes! Mama likes that a lot, sugar. Now, try to find that little nipple - my clit - with the tip of your tongue. AHH! Right there!"

His first time at oral was clumsy and maddening. He roamed all over the place and I had to order him back to my clit countless times. I was close to my third orgasm numerous times only to have his tongue wander off. Gripping my thighs, I pulled them back and studied the action between my legs.

"Clarence! Dammit! Concentrate your tongue on that little nipple. Yes! Now, concentrate and don't move!" I pleaded. "What the hell! Son of a Bitch!. YES!"

On his own initiative, he had stuck his tongue into my pussy - my hole! Had putting a finger inside of me given him the notion? Who the hell cared! He was tongue fucking me, his face shoving repeatedly into my crotch. Natural instinct was a wonderful thing! My ass responded as I shoved back.

"My clit, baby!" I commanded. "Go back to my clit!"

His tongue returned to my clit and it took but mere seconds for the orgasm to grip me violently. My body quaked and I groaned loudly.

I had never felt love for my son like I felt at that moment and I wanted to show him that love using the environment we found ourselves.

"Baby, come up and kiss me!" I commanded.

His mouth was wet and clammy, his chin drenched with my lubricant. I felt nothing but lust as we kissed passionately.

"Clarence, let me turnover."

I maneuvered to my belly as I directed him to straddled me once more. I pulled the crack of my ass open and told him to lay his cock in the crack between my ass cheeks.

"Do what feels good, sugar." I directed lovingly. "Don't lift your ass too high are you will pull it loose."

My ass cheeks were containing his cock quite nicely and he was soon humping my ass quite naturally, soon breathing strongly on my neck.

"Take hold of my tits." I directed, lifting my torso up slightly. "Put weight on me. It's okay."

"You were so wet down there." He asked, making me smile at his untimely query. "Should I swallow it?"

"It won't hurt you but it is probably best just to purge - push - it out of your mouth." I explained. "Always rinse your mouth and wash your face good and if the bed gets wet I'll just wash it - to keep our secret, secret."

I lay there pondering his innocence, feeling a bit uneasy, but, feeling his warm breath on my neck, the heat and compressing weight of his body, knowing that in a few minutes he would again shoot his semen into the upper crack of my ass, soothed my guilt. After he did, he nuzzled my neck, telling me how much he loved to play "daddy and Mama" and assured me he knew it was our little secret.

Now, the lake cabin was only a short flight from Port Hardy, Victoria Island to Powell River, on the mainland, then, an hour boat ride on Powell Lake to the cabin. We usually visited the cabin every quarter of the year for a week, with an extended stay during the summer.

Cabin stays were fraught with danger of Clarence and I being caught playing "daddy and Mama", not so much by a visiting neighbor during the off months, but quick changing weather could cause Bruce to returned to the cabin unexpectedly from a nearby hunting or 4-wheel excursion. Sex at the cabin required that Clarence and I remain as fully clothed as possible and to get the business at hand over as quickly as possible. Clarence wanted us, meaning me, to be naked. Being panty-less under a dress never pleased him and his whining to be between my thighs as I held him drove me to distraction, mostly because that's where I desired him too. We "between the ass cheeks" screwed occasionally, but because of time restraint I usually stood against the sink counter etc., bending over a bit.. A must, was for him to eat me first. The down side to oral was keeping him focused when the clock was the enemy.

Through years of conditioning, Clarence had been taught to listen to music with earphones on and not to drink too much water or soda before bedtime, leaving Bruce and I to have sex unheard and unseen. Even so, we had positioned our bed where 90% of it was covered by the loft, leaving 10% pass the loft railing and a short distance from the ladder to its left, if you are laying on your back looking up. As the rare occasion happened, Clarence could not hold his water, and we were in the midst of screwing, I would glance Clarence well before he became aware of us, allowing us to separate and pretend to be sleeping. Our latest cabin stay, and our now intimate relationship, proved that there were changes afoot..

I had never felt comfortable screwing at the cabin, but I never voiced it. I often just didn't participate, letting Bruce get his piece of ass. In the wee hours one morning, the full moon high, I was laying on my back, Bruce between my thighs having a go it me, my knees pulled back for good penetration, but not ratcheting as they would have been, had I been engaged. The cabin being hot, the blankets had been tossed aside and my knee length flannel nightgown was up above of my breasts, Bruce's cock sticking through the pee hole of his long underwear.

Ever alert, I turned my head towards the ladder and was instantly concerned to see Clarence's head on the far side of the ladder, him perched precariously over the railing. I waved him away and was perturbed as he did not make an effort to move. He watched us screw until his father groaned with orgasm. He then disappeared and I was surprised at how quietly he had returned to bed. When his father left after breakfast the next morning to see a neighbor across the lake, my son had questions."You didn't seem to be having fun, Mama?" Was his first query. "Like when we do it?"

"A woman doesn't always feel like screwing." I answered him, adding sternly. "Especially when her son is within earshot or spying on her.

"But I have watched you and dad fuck many times before and I like to watch you move."

Such information surprised and disturbed me, causing me to sigh deeply.

"You seem to like that word - fuck?"

"Screw - fuck - make love. You said they all mean the same? I like to say fuck. I like to hear you say fuck."

I declined to answer him as I rarely said "fuck", preferring "screw":

"You and dad weren't playing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dad's thing was inside you. You like him filling you pussy. I've heard you tell him to do it. You didn't last night."

"Beg was more accurate and he apparently had heard much." I thought, but instead rebuked. "Never you mind! And don't spy on us again, or we - you and I - won't be screwing - fucking or making love - any more. You hear me? I've told you us playing "daddy and mama" is unusual and your dad, not to mention the authorities - the mounties - would be very upset. You getting caught spying could bring our little sin to light."

He declined to answer me and I regretted saying the word "sin" the second it left my mouth.

"I would like to hear you tell me to fill you pussy." He whispered instead.

Again, I remained silent on the subject.

Life was good at our home in Port Hardy. Bruce began to spend more time on the road in his new position with the company. He was now spending weeks away from home. I was always careful to set the alarm on the house so as not to be surprised. Clarence and I had settled into a routine and he seemed as content as he ever had. He had gotten a promotion at his job also, bringing him out of the shipping area to stocking the shelves.

Using his new promotion as the reason, I gave him more of what he desired; if I had just spoken to his father and knew knew him to be an airline flight from home I would clean house skimpily clad, a white shirt with panties, or skipped the panties, or, sometimes served him dinner completely nude, allowing him to fondle me whenever I was within reach. With my ass on the table, I often offered him desert. I introduced him to the dildo and taught him to use it on me. I continued to be amazed at the amount of semen the boy could produce! To please him, as he was mounted a top me in simulation, getting a hand job, I would beg him to fill my pussy.

My weight had become a problem in my mid-40s. I went from diet to diet struggling to get my former self back. Bruce blamed me for our boy's simple mindedness, and accused my added weight for my lack of interest in sex of late. How was I to tell Bruce that our simpleminded son had a lot to do with my lack of sex drive, desiring Clarence more. That, and taking care of him sexually, my desire to be satisfied by him in the many ways I had taught him never let my desire build like it naturally had before. Clarence always provided direct stimulation and it beat the hell out of my husband's average cock and self centeredness. Bruce never considered an alternate to missionary screwing and I had never asked.

Summertime arrived and we left for the cabin for an extended six-week stay. It was not a total surprise when I suspected my husband was screwing a single woman who had purchased a cabin at the far end of the lake. His canoe was sitting there often. Our high-powered scope confirmed it, though he attempted to hide it. When confronted, he confirmed it, blaming it all on me. I was told to accept it or fill for divorce.

Given my age, lack of work experience, and insurance concerns, and creating an upheaval in my son's life, I accepted it. I got even by giving the married men in our watery community what they had wanted for years - a piece of my ass. I'd send Clarence somewhere on the lake to retrieve a stick of butter or such. I was then busy servicing are being serviced by one of the men of the lake. Bruce found out and blew a gasket! Hell, I told him! He could do nothing but except it, as I had. I could have taken him to the cleaners, and he knew it. But, I was not that person I had tried to become and I soon cut the men off, giving each a last taste, to show them I wasn't upset with them. My cabin door had become like a revolving door and Clarence had suffered because of it. My husband spent more time at the bitches cabin...nights too.

Hey, I didn't need his cock, did I? I cut him off completely too. The winter months back at our home found him gone even more. He didn't deny he was visiting the woman in Vancouver. I suppose I couldn't blame him for what was inevitable.

February and March were especially harsh that year. Clarence missed work a lot and it was as if my husband did not even exist. He was snowbound or icebound at work or in Vancouver.

Clarence was his frisky self. With the alarm set, security catches in place, I allowed him to share my bed at night. I never grew tired of him touching, caressing, kissing my body and stroking my more delicate, womanly areas. He still yearned to just cuddle and suck a nipple.

The same month that Clarence turned 25 his father and I had a remarkable reconciliation. Bruce was back in my bed and we were fucking like newlyweds. It made sense, really, financially and emotionally. Though I never truly forgave him, I made certain not to ignore his sexual needs, But faking orgasm often. Between Bruce and Clarence, I spent a lot of time on my back, my legs spread, my panties off, getting truly screwed or giving a hand job or getting oral. No need to fake oral!

Within 5 months the unthinkable came to light. The bitch had lured Bruce back between her legs. During a heated, shouting argument, about his lying, him demanding I screw him then and now, he followed me to the bedroom. Kicking the door before I could close and lock it, a wrestling match ensued. I struggled to keep my house dress and panties from been ripped off. I lost and knew I was going to be raped.

Now, Clarence had been taught to go to, or stay in, his bedroom if he heard me and his dad shouting at each other. He, afterward, told me he heard us physically fighting and desired to protect me. I was struggling against being penned in place on the bed and penetrated when Clarence literally snatched Bruce off me and the bed. An awkward swing landed a fist in Bruce's gut, doubling him over. Recovering instantly, he shoved Clarence to the floor.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU BASTARD!!" I screamed, causing Bruce to freeze. "GET OUT! I SAID, GET OUT! NOW! ALL THE WAY. GO STAY WITH YOUR BITCH WHORE."

Bruce stormed out of the bedroom and continued out the front door, slamming it. I was angry as hell at both of them, though much less at my son.! Had Clarence been at work, what would have happened? Still, he could have been hurt trying to defend me, or, worst, witnessed me being raped. I was proud of his gumption. I determined Bruce would pay, though he would never know.

I brushed aside my nakedness and rolled from the bed to help Clarence up, giving him a once over, asking was he hurt. Satisfied he was all right, I asked if he wanted to join me in bed. I told him to strip.

I entered the bed, placing myself on my back, my head on the pillow. I beckoned him to join me. He walked around to my right, entered the bed, lying on his side facing me. I made no movement, wanting to see what this simpleminded son of mine would do with what was before him. Clarence seemed at a loss as to how to proceed. Though his eyes wandered over my body they always returned to my bush. I had always moved on him or directed him as to what to do. It seemed as if his body was trembling with anticipation or fright. Finally, I felt I needed to intervene before he stroked out. I was still mad as hell and trembling a bit myself. Having my nipple suckled, I figured, might calm me and get Clarence calm and firm. He appeared to be limp and wrinkled up at the moment, still a bit frightened no doubt, rather than aroused.

"You want a nipple, sugar?"

He took the offered nipple into his mouth and began sucking lightly. I closed my eyes for long minutes feeling the tension flow out of me but I remained determined to seek my revenge. My right hand dropped and sought out Clarence's cock, happily finding it firm.

"Rub my belly for a bit, then, you can explore my body the way you like to." I directed.

My body relaxed as his hand massaged my belly. My fingers toyed with his cock, my hand squeezing it occasionally. I felt his hand inch down my belly to my mound. He played with my pubic hair and massaged my mound a long minute, then, I felt his middle finger push lightly into my labia seeking, I knew, my clit. I spread my legs a bit more to give him access.

"Ohhhh, Clarence, that feels good!" I moaned. "Can you come kiss mama without stopping?"

Releasing my nipple, he maneuvered to his knees, expertly keeping his right finger massaging my clit, compressing it lightly. He hesitated briefly before leaning in to kiss me. He kissed me very softly, warming my heart, making me rationalize that what I was about to do was necessary to avenge both of us. For the first time in our relationship, I put my tongue into his mouth. He jumped, but quickly recovered, putting his tongue against mine. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and his followed. I sucked on his firmly. I pushed back and he sucked firmly my tongue. We repeated the tongue play numerous times while we both manipulated the others sexually until my pussy was on fire with incestuous desire.

Without releasing his cock, I pulled him atop me, spreading my legs and lifting my knees. I positioned it to me.

"Clarence, you have always been a good boy, doing everything Mama tells you to do. I want you to stick your cock in Mama this time. I want you to fuck Mama for real."

"You mean like daddy does?" He questioned. "You said we could never do that?"

"You don't worry about that. You let me worry about it." I replied. "You want to fuck Mama, don't you? I'm telling you it's okay! Now push it in me."

Clarence pushed as I pushed against him, holding the thick, domed shaped, head his cock until it was embedded in my pussy.

"Push, baby." I whispered in a supportive tone. "Push it deep. That's good, Clarence. Now, move but make sure it doesn't pop out.".

I had not set the house alarm! My husband could return at any moment to make amends - to apologize. I did not care, in fact, I would have been happy to have him return and find Clarence between my legs - screwing me. If he walked to the open bedroom door this second, he would see his son's cock stroking the pussy he considered his property. I no longer considered my pussy to belong to anyone except my son.

"Fuck me slow, sugar." I whispered. "Enjoy the feeling of being inside a woman, inside Mama, for the first time. I am enjoying the feeling of your cock inside of me. Hold your orgasm until mama comes. I just want to screw a while."

I was fully engaged in slow, sensuous, lustful, incestuous copulation. I was butt-hole naked under my son, my knees ratcheting as if in slow motion, in a compromising position of the most disastrous sort should we be caught or observed. My pussy was wet in the extreme, my nipples ultra-sensitive, feeling my son's chest rake across them. He was lovingly keeping his weight off me. I did not care about anything! I could feel his balls rubbing against my ass, knowing they were getting wet with my lubricant, knowing they were full and waiting to fill my pussy.

Still, something gnawed at me, eventually reveling that my madness was in-part caused by the violent fight and near rape. I had never experienced such a strong desire to be manhandled and screwed.

"Look at me, Clarence." I requested.

He went from cradling me to stiff arming himself over me. "Are you happy to be inside mother?" I asked lovingly.

"Yes Mama."

"Your cock feels really good inside of me - inside of my pussy."

I held his gaze as I began to flex my hips, stabbing myself with his cock. Whether voluntary or involuntary, he began to stab back - in perfect rhythm. My face contorted and my breathing quickened.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked.

"Yes! NO!. It's a good hurt." I praised, the pain not in my belly but him slamming into my crotch. 'You are a good mother-fucker! Don't stop. Keep stabbing me.."

I felt a slight pang of disappointment, wishing his cock could be a bit longer, causing pain deep in my pussy, as I shoved hard against him. It became an obsession to get him as deep as possible.

"Hard, Clarence!" I pleaded. "Push it deep, dammit! Son of a Bitch! Harder! Push! Faster, now! Yes! OHHHhhh FUCKKKKKK!"

The orgasm gripped me hard. I was whooping like I was in labor looking up at my red faced son, who continued to stab me with determination.

"OK, OK, ok, ok!" I panted. "That's good! You made Mama come. Ease up! God damn! Give Mama a kiss."

He kissed me passionately, but haphazardly and unschooled, as I pulled him down. He cradled me once more as we continued screwing slowly.

"Lord have mercy! That was good - but quick!" I said with labored breath. "Are you all right? You don't feel a giant urge to come yet, do you?"

"Not at all. Do you want me to fuck you some more?"

"Oh yes!" I answered with a desirous tone.

***

Present;

I am fully engaged, thrusting my ass up, matching his, now, moderate rhythm. His thick cock is scrubbing the inner-walls of my vagina making it come live. The windows are forgotten, caution replaced by incestuous lust.

"Do you like Mama's pussy?" I whisper in his ear.

"Yes. Very much." Clarence replies.

"You know you put your cock in me without my permission - without regard to secrecy" I accuse, without anger in my tone. "Maybe "pussy" should make you pull it out for disobeying your mom?"

"No! Please

"You daddy is my husband and your father.. Married don't." He begs, sounding alarmed. "Daddy never needs permission!"

As much as I hate to admit his dad is again back home. Poor boy could not grasp the marital concept that husband and wife have sexual duties and obligations. I had tried to explain it to him. I am weak and afraid of being on my own, I suppose.

Also, I had found referring to my pussy in the "third person" would cause Clarence focus his attention, believing "pussy" to be all powerful. It is after all!

"Married couples screw all the time." I explain for the umpteenth time trying to nip a prolong discussion in the bud. "You are my son. Moms and sons usually do not screw. There are exceptions and you and I are an exception. Boy, can't you just screw your mama without all the chatter!"

" "Pussy" is not going to make me pull it out?" He asked with relief in his tone.

""SSShhhhhhh."

I wedge my right hand, palm down, between us and I am wet, my bush slowly becoming matted. After stroking his slick shaft, I invert my hand and cradle balls fondling them softly. I extract my hand and grab his ass with both hands, and begin to ratchet my knees and ass in an ever quickening rhythm. My breathing and moaning increases as Clarence follows my rhythm.

"Over yes, sugar! Screw Mama, good!"

After long minutes, I tire and slow my rhythm sliding my hands up to his shoulders to let them lay lightly.

"You're a good boy, Clarence." I praise. "Tell me you love my pussy."

"I do, Mama. I love your pussy! I love to fuck your pussy!"

He nuzzles and kisses my neck, his breathing also a bit elevated from the frenzied rhythm. I take a moment to gaze at our surroundings, taking note of the unshielded windows and think to myself, "I must be crazy screwing my boy in such an unsecured manner".

"Clarence, we need to move." I petition. "Let me up and let's go somewhere where we are not so exposed."

"I don't want to!"

"Get the hell off of me!" I command with authority.

Reluctantly, he moves off me and I feel his thick cock pull out of me. I already have a place in mind that I lead him by the hand into the bathroom. I maneuver him around and sit him down on the toilet seat. I straddle his legs and reach to hold his cock erect, squatting, as I position his cock to my pussy. With a clumsy effort because of his short length and large thickness, I scrub my ass over his crotch until I assure myself I have as much as his cock in me as possible. Putting my arms around his neck, I began to ratcheting my ass.

We have done this before and soon we are in sync, him supporting my ass as we screw contently. I feel much better though the space is confining. However, I can and do lean back against the wall so that I can see our coupling. Clarence loves to watch our coupling also and we screw like this a long while. My tits, with firm nipples, bounce rhythmically, fascinating him, and he plays with them.

I began to feel frisky and I lean forward as far as I can and hug Clarence tightly. I began to lift my ass a bit as I start to screw him with intent. My breathing is soon elevated and I am moaning passionately into his ear. It is having a desired effect on him as he begins to thrust up into me. He clutches my ass tighter.

"Yes! Yes, Clarence! You are a good mother-fucker. Screw Mama's cunt!"

The vulgar word, I have taught him a few, works its magic and I feel my son's body tightening as I drop my ass on his cock and he lifts my ass up with his thrust.

"Fuck my cock, Mama!" He stammers with excitement, repeating phases I have taught him to say. Things that turn me on too. "I'm going to mark pussy with my cum. I'm going to fill your belly! Make pussy mine!"

""Pussy" wants that too!" I return lustfully. "Pussy is hot! Are you close, Clarence?"

"YES. MAMA! Can I come? Can I ejaculate into pussy? Can I fill your belly? Can I fill pussy?"

I am confident that I can orgasm when he comes.

"Don't hold it!" I tell him. "Tell me when you're ready. Tell me when you're coming!"

Our rhythm is lustful and quick paced but it is holding steady and everything is perfect. I feel my body flush and warm. The expectation is mounting and I am having to hold by orgasm.

"I'mmmmmmmmmm! Comingggggggggg!"

I hear the "I" and let my orgasm loose. Our rhythm seems to increase to an insane pace and my knees are flexing double-time. I pray we do not lose penetration as I would hate to waste such a beautiful ejaculation smearing my ass rather than filling pussy - his - pussy.

If incestuous fornication can be beautiful, then, the moment of our mutual orgasm is truly beautiful. It could not have been timed more perfectly.

As our bodies slow to a stop, me, feeling particularly satisfied. I come to the realization that perfect would have been me on my back retaining his large amount of semen. Instead, I know when I lift off him gravity will cause his cum to flow freely from my pussy.

Before lifting myself slowly, I tell Clarence what is going to happen. He remembers and already knows. As I lift myself slowly, we watch together as his ejaculate drops in large quantities out of me and onto the head of his cock, flowing down his short shaft.

An idea pops into my mind. I lower myself down. His mostly erect cock easily slips back into me. I repeat this numerous times, dropping and lifting onto his cock, keeping it firm as we laugh and I make babyish noises.

As the playfulness wears off, I stand and ask if would like to join me for a shower.