It wasn't as good as Ralph's practiced motions and bigger tongue slurping at her hole, but it was twice as good. Knowing it was her son drilling into her cunt was qualitatively a lot better than mere size.
"Ooooooh, that's fine, Tommy," she said, encouraging the boy to probe more. She didn't want him to quit. Not now. "Twist it around in there, honey. That's the way. Now, suck my clitoris. That little button at the top. Please. For Mommy, baby." She talked to him, guiding him and occasionally squealing at the results.
Tommy followed his mother's directions explicitly. He moved from sex slot to the red-lined, beautiful lips of her cunt. His tongue shot into her hole dragging out the musky liquid that welled up from her depths, then he nibbled at the tender pubes until she screamed for mercy. Faster and faster his tongue licked, darting in and out like hummingbirds' wings.
Sally lifted her legs toward the ceiling and howled as her son sucked eagerly at the tiny knob of her clitoris, elongating it and drawing it out of her little hiding place.
Finally, when she could stand it no more, Sally grabbed the boy by his arms and dragged him away from her ravaged crotch. He licked and kissed her breasts and, suddenly, in a fit of inspiration, fastened on to her cherry-red nipple sticking up from her breast like a penis out of a snow hill.
"Oh, migod," Sally moaned. She swiveled her hips and caught her son's slender waist between her legs. She pressed him tight to her and without willing it to happen, felt his small cock slip into her soft, warm cock sheath.
"Fuck me!" Sally demanded frantically. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Tommy was as startled by what happened as Sally. One minute he was hunched over his mother sucking on her breast like a little baby enjoying every moment of it, and then his virgin cock had slid into something soft and gushy that seemed to clutch at it and hold it.
"I'm trying, Mommy," the boy almost cried as he concentrated.
His penis slipped wetly into his mother's love hole and his hips automatically began banging up and down in a cadence he'd never even dreamed he'd known.
Sally responded with frantic up and down motions. Her hips lifted the boy clear of the bed and he was forced to clutch desperately with his mouth at her succulent breast and cling with his hands to keep from being bucked off.
In and out, the smooth slide of Tommy's boy's cock drilled his mother's eager twat. It slid in to the balls until the boy thought they would also be swallowed by her ravenous sex hole. He bit on her tit until it was bright red and swollen from the constant irritation and his fingers grasped and squeezed her other breast sending startling waves of sexual delight soaring through Sally.
"Oh, ride me, darling. Ride-fuck Mommy. Do it, honey!"
Sally crooned to Tommy as she pitched him up and down, helping him to sink his balls deep in her twat time and again.
"God, oh God, oh God," she moaned. She screamed at the ecstatic feeling as her son stabbed his dick down into her and then she wrapped her legs tight around his body and tried to tug him down into her deeper and deeper until her never-ending climax would finally still.
She finally felt the wonderful flow of Tommy's hot fuck juice pouring into her vagina and she almost fainted with pleasure.
The bedroom soared and reeled around her. Tommy's weight on her body was a feather that seemed to float away and descend again with each deep, gasping breath.
She could still feel his little peter in her cunt and she had an almost insane urge to keep it there, to hold it in place until she never again had a use for it. It felt so good and comforting that she didn't want the boy to ever get out of the saddle and she fantasized going through life with her son pressed against her belly and his penis crammed up her crotch.
She wanted to walk, joined with him that way. She was sure that if she did she'd feel the wonderful shape of his pecker in her quim with each delicious step. It would be better than dancing.
"Oh, Tommy, darling! I love you, baby!"
"I love you, too, Mommy."
Sally lifted his head away from her breast and kissed him.
Tommy stared at his mother with sleepy eyes. "Boy," he added, "I'm really tired. But I feel good. A whole lot good."
"So do I, darling!" Sally didn't know how to tell Tommy how well she really felt. She just wanted him to know that everything was wonderful, that it was all right. Now, she knew, no matter what she had to put up with from Hal, as long as she had Tommy she knew she could manage to survive. He was the answer to her dreams.
As she cradled the half-sleeping boy an her breasts she thought about how nice it would be, to teach Tommy all about sex and keeping him happy and sleepy whenever he – they – needed it.
"I'm going to tell Dad!"
The words were explosive in the lilac-scented bedroom. And Sally sat up like she'd been shot dumping Tommy on the bed beside her.
The dreams that had started in her heart were a sour taste in her stomach. Standing in the bedroom doorway was Tommy's older brother, twelve year old John.
CHAPTER SIX
Sally hadn't known what else she could do. John had kicked and screamed and shouted, "I'm not going!" But he went anyway.
Tommy was easy. He was sleepy and she packed him into the back of the station wagon. But when it came to. John, after she left a note for Hal she could barely pack the kicking, resisting youngster into the front with her. And then she took off.
It was getting dark outside and the rows of white-painted, two-story houses that dominated the neighborhood were just blurs in the darkness as Sally and her two kids sped past.
The inside of the station wagon was quiet and warm. John subsided into a twelve-year-old pout and Sally was thankful. It gave her a chance to think. And she needed that.
The letter she had left behind far Hal, telling him she was taking the kids to the mountain cabin for the weekend had been abrupt, at the least. She'd blamed him for not being interested in, the kids. But she wondered if he'd see through it, if the sins she'd just committed with young Tommy would show in her handwriting or on the paper?
Am I a marked woman? She laughed nervously as she drove. She didn't believe in superstition. Yet, there must be some stigma resulting from fucking her own son. She was worse than an adulteress, leading her own children into sexual sin.
She glanced into the rearview mirror and her heart almost stopped. She had it tilted so she could watch the kids. And she could see Tommy clearly, his hands bright in the dark shadows of the station wagon as he played with his cock.
Quickly, Sally looked at John to see if he had noticed anything. He was sitting squeezed into the corner by the door. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his hands were cupped over his crotch. She'd seen him sulk in that position before and knew he could stay like that for hours without paying any attention to the rest of the world.
Almost casually she was about to dismiss the boy from her mind when it struck her that his fingers were moving very slowly and casually.
Sally peeked out of the corner of her eye to confirm what she thought she saw. Her heart thumped in her breast as she realized her oldest son was playing with himself! There could be no doubt. His hands were lifted from his crotch in a way that suggested that he had a massive hard-on under his pants and his fingers were stroking it into steely rigidity. He was masturbating while she thought he was sulking.
Suddenly Sally felt the heat in the car and she cracked the window slightly. The sudden rush of cool wind on her cheek reduced her feverishness somewhat, but not completely.
She had been in such a hurry to leave the house that she hadn't put any underwear on and the furry seat under her naked butt was starting to itch like mad. Her hips wiggled back and forth on the seat, but that helped hardly at all. It just shifted the location of the itchy feeling from the bottom of her slit to her clitoris, irritated by her nervous motions. Her crotch was sweaty and she had an irrepressible desire to pull her short skirt all the way up and let the wind cool it.