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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Date with Mom
by Eros (1998)
***
A divorce makes for a lonely existence, until a guy
places a personal ad in the paper only to find that the
love of his life doesn't fall far from the family tree.
(MF, inc)
***
My friend Tamara had told me that the only people who
took out personal ads in our local weekly were "horny
yuppies with more money than brains."
However, I had recently finalized my divorce after
twenty-seven years of marriage, and I simply didn't
know how to play the modern dating game. Besides, I
could think of a lot worse things than a man with a fat
wallet, a lonely cock, and an empty head.
One advertisement called to me again and again: "Good-
looking professional, 26, who enjoys romantic
encounters in dark theaters with mature women who
remember the days of candlelight and roses. Let's share
a bottle of fine, properly aged wine together and
discuss our interests."
Tamara groaned when I pointed it out to her. "Kim,
you're old enough to be that man's mother," she said as
she jabbed her scarlet fingernail at the number 26. It
was true, alas. I didn't like to remember it, but my
own son was exactly that age.
"Well, he does say he likes mature women," I said.
"Kim, to a boy of 26, 47 isn't mature, it's ancient!
Either that, or he's looking for a sugar mama. Why
don't you let me set you up with my cousin Brian!"
Cousin Brian, I remembered, had hunched shoulders and
looked a decade older than his fifty years.
"No thanks. Tamara. I think I'm going to check this one
out."
I sent him a cautious note, along with a photograph
that showed my body from the neck down. Maybe I was
being TOO cautious, but I wasn't ready to have naked
photos of myself circulating around town with my real
face or name attached! I reasoned that a good, long
look at my lean, well-maintained figure would he enough
to tell the man what he needed to know.
A couple of weeks passed, and then I found a note in my
mailbox telling me to drop by a certain club any
Tuesday for the next month. "I'll be the one with the
silver wine bucket," he promised.
"Don't go." Tamara said. "You haven't even talked to
him on the phone. Are you crazy!"
"Look," I said. "We're meeting in a public place. I'll
just steal a look at him and if I don't like what I
see, I'll leave. No worries, right!?"
Tamara just shook her head as I shimmied into a tight
white skirt that she couldn't have worn since the
summer of '67. It wasn't fair that I had such a firm,
small belly since I'd had a kid and Tamara hadn't, but
hey. That's the breaks. Anyway, I didn't need to fuss
much with my appearance. I slicked on some coral
lipstick and stepped into a pair of white, high-heeled
sandals and I was ready to go.
The club was moderately crowded. I scanned several busy
tables for a minute before I saw the one in the corner
where a man sat alone with a silver bucket and a bottle
of wine. Although I was looking at him from behind,
where I could see nothing but the blonde curl that hung
down like an inverted question mark from the back of
his short, thick hair. I knew it was Matthew. My own
son!
Just then he turned and saw me. Our eyes met across the
crowded barroom floor. I remembered the sexy fantasies
I'd had while slithering into my tight skirt, and I
wasn't willing to give up the dream. I felt a sudden
moistness in my panties as I realized how handsome my
son really was.
"Mom!" he said, getting up and coming across the floor.
"What are you doing here!"
I laughed. "Well, Matt, I guess you invited me!"
He flushed and then laughed as I explained. Somehow we
wound up tucked in the corner table, where a waiter
materialized to pour the wine. I could tell from his
manner that he assumed that my son was actually my
lover, and the way I giggled when I tasted the
expensive libation did nothing to contradict that
assumption.
"I didn't know you liked 'mature' women," I said to
Matt after the waiter finally left.
"I suppose I have you to thank for that." He clicked
his glass to mine. "You're a beautiful woman, Mom.
Beautiful, intelligent, and sexy. I've often wondered
where I would meet a woman as fine as you."
I felt flustered. We aren't a family that's much on
compliments.
Besides, Matt had suddenly slipped his hand into
mine, squeezing it. I wasn't really surprised when he
then took my hand and placed it gently in his lap so
that I could feel his crotch. "Just looking at you in
that skirt has me so hard, Mom," he whispered. "I need
to fuck so badly."
"So do I," I confessed. before I could stop myself. The
feel of Matt's hard cock was like a drug on me. My
pussy was moistening rapidly. I couldn't help myself. I
wanted to fuck my own son!
"I know it's wrong, Mom," me whispered. "But I want you
so badly!
Maybe I always have."
He wrapped my fingers about the bulge in his pants and
instinctively I squeezed his erection. I was shocked at
the size and stiffness of his prick. I couldn't
remember when I had felt a cock of such prodigious
proportions. My pussy was itching with a need to feel
it between my legs.
"Come home with me, Mom." he whispered.
My brain told me that it was wrong, but my body wasn't
listening anymore. All I wanted right then was my son's
long hard cock fucking my neglected pussy.
I didn't remember much about the ride from the club to
Matt's apartment except the speed at which the
streetlights flashed past. I had both hands inside his
pants stroking his hard, throbbing cock while he was
driving, and I'm afraid that they may have provided
something of a distraction.
When we reached his apartment, soft music came on. He'd
wired the place somehow so that it did that
automatically. I was surprised at the subtle eroticism
of the recording he'd chosen. I suppose I'd expected
something crude and vulgar from a younger lover, even
if he was my own son. I should have known by now that
Matt was a man of exquisite good taste. He took me in
his arms and danced with me, waltzing me around his
hardwood floor. I kept hunching my hips forward, eager
to feel the hard lump in his trousers rub deliciously
against my burning pussy.
Despite his obvious desire for sex. Matt didn't rush a
thing. He was clearly the master of the show. When the
song ended, he kissed me. Not the usual mother/son peck
on the lips, a long, lingering passionate kiss that had
my pussy bubbling with lust for him. He slithered his
tongue into my mouth. I sucked it gently and then a
little harder as I felt his hands drift down to unzip
the back of my tight skirt.
I tried to remember to pull off one or another of his
articles of clothing from time to time, but I was
mostly letting him undress me. I was highly aroused,
burning from the thrill of surrendering my body to the
touch of my very own son.
When we were naked, I made him step back so that I
could look at his body... just look at it. He was so
beautiful! His shoulders were broad, his chest rippled
with muscles, his belly flat, his hips tapered. His
cock was long and thick. I was secretly afraid that I
wouldn't be able to get all of it inside of me, but I
sure as hell was going to have a lot of fun trying.
"It's been a long time since I've had sex," I told him.
"I feel like a virgin with my own son."
Matt laughed.
"Come here, Mom!"
He took me into his arms and kissed me everywhere. The
track of his wet tongue created a sensuous criss-cross
pattern as it traversed the sensitive flesh of my too-
long-neglected body. I quivered, painfully close to
orgasm and yet so terribly afraid that I couldn't take
the blast of long-denied feeling, when he sealed his
young lips about the small bud of my clitoris.
"It's all right, Mom," he whispered, his warm breath
tickling my pussy hair. "It's all right. Let go and
enjoy. I'm going to make you feel so good."
He opened his mouth wider, so that he could
simultaneously move his tongue down to my cuntslit
while he continued to suck gently on my clitty button.
I bucked my hips up in total abandon. Having my
handsome young son eating my cunt like this was so
deliciously dirty I knew I wouldn't last long before I
came all over his tongue. My knees wobbled. I wasn't
going to be able to remain standing if he insisted on
giving me much intense pleasure.
But Matt was way ahead of me. Standing up, he took me
by the hand and led me back to his bedroom. I'd never
been there before, never stolen a glimpse at the
masculine darkness of his heavy antique four-poster and
black satin sheets. I felt as if I were going to bed
with a stranger as my son tenderly lay me down and
spread my thighs, eyeing of my juicy-wet cuntslit like
a starving man.
"I want to suck you too, baby," I finally said,
remembering the incredible hardness of that wonderfully
large cock of his. I was still afraid that I couldn't
handle all of it, but I desperately wanted to try.
Matt turned around on top of me and planted his knees
on either side of my face before returning his lips to
my pussy. It was the classic sixty-nine position,
something his father hadn't much cared for. My son's
lingual enthusiasm was infinitely better than my
husband's dutiful slurps.
God, it was so intoxicating to be sucking on a prick
that belonged to a man who was simultaneously licking
out my pussy! That combined with the fact that the
tongue in my cunt belonged to my own son, to me, was
the ultimate turn-on. I'd never been so aroused in my
life!
As I sucked his long, hard cock deep into my mouth, I
felt the deep stirrings of a long-delayed orgasm. I was
so afraid that I was going to explode right into my
son's face. But how could I hold back when he slipped
his tongue that extra inch inside of me and pressed
hard on some secret erogenous zone I had no idea I even
possessed! I'd meant to show a fraction more control,
but it was hopeless. I erupted in my first tongue-
generated climax in a decade.
When he realized that I was cumming, Matt actually grew
more excited. I suppose he could have forced himself to
re-double the speed of his cartwheeling tongue, but he
couldn't have faked the sudden extra dose of steel-hard
stiffness in the prick he was hunching into my mouth.
My son was honestly aroused by the sweet, sticky taste
of his own mother's cum. My own tongue had gotten a
little clumsy because I had to keep gasping for breath
around the thick plug of Matt's overstuffed cock.
Suddenly, he went rigid above me. I recognized the
signs instantly and reached up to grab his cute butt,
pulling him down so that he could shoot all that lovely
hot sperm deep into my throat.
We rested quietly for s few minutes in that position,
my son's half-hard cock still between my lips. I
savored one of my favorite sexual treats, a treat I'd
almost forgotten over the years.... the feeling of a
man's prick getting hard again. It would probably be
difficult for anyone except another woman to understand
how powerfully excited it made me feel to know that I
had my own son's cock swelling in my mouth at the
simple touch of my tongue.
"I want to fuck you, Mom," Matt whispered.
I hated to let his cock slip from my mouth for even so
much as a fraction of a second, but I knew that he
wanted to hear me say it.
"I want it too, son," I told him. "Please Matt. Fuck
your mother's hot pussy! Fuck me good!"
He raised his big, masculine body from mine long enough
to turn himself around into the proper position between
my open thighs. I lifted my legs up and wide as I took
him in the classic missionary position. The hairy,
swollen lips of my pussy trembled as I felt the head of
his massive cockhead start to spread them open. Was I
woman enough to take a man like this! My own son was
hung like a stud horse and I was to be his filly. Would
my poor, neglected cunt stretch as much as it needed
to! Or would Matt split me in two with his incredibly
thick weapon.
"It's alright, Mom," Matt whispered, sensing my fear.
"I know that I'm larger than average, and definitely
much bigger than Dad, so let's just take it slow and
easy."
His voice was a soothing sing-song that relaxed me like
he was hypnotizing me. My pussy stretched a little more
and Matt slipped another inch inside of me. He never
hurried. No matter how desperate I grew, no matter how
wildly I rubbed my heels against his broad back, no
matter how madly I whimpered into his ears, he took me
a tantalizing inch at a time. It was the technique that
another man might have used to fuck a woman's asshole,
entering me so slowly that I couldn't help but open
wide as my muscles ached to pull him in more.
"Fuck me, Son! Fuck me, Matt! Don't hold back. Give me
the whole thing!"
And then he'd done it. I felt the head of his massive
cock rubbing sensuously at the back wall of my swamp-
wet pussy while my trembling pelvis squirmed against
the flat muscle of his hard belly. The entire length of
my son's incredible prick was buried inside of me!
My cunt was full, fuller than it had ever been before
and it felt wonderful. I moved with him as Matt began
to fuck me with a slow, steady rhythm. I was being
fucked by my own son! My own son's cock was pumping in
and out of my cunt, my little boy's prick was
stretching me, filling me, making my clit tingle and
throb with the promise of orgasms like I'd never
experienced before.
Matt had the consummate control that I would expect,
and yet had never received from a much older man. I
quickly discovered that I could buck and jerk my hips
beneath him as violently as I wished, letting myself
surrender to orgasm after orgasm without restraint.
My son just kept pumping away, and there was never a
moment when I had to be afraid that he'd come too soon.
The satin sheets were a soaking wet swamp that smelled
strongly of jism and cunt-juice when we finally
collapsed, my son's happy prick still inside of me.
"Jesus, baby! Who taught you how to fuck like that!" I
asked. sighing deeply.
"I guess you did, Mom, since I've never fucked like
that before."
His tongue stroked the curve of my ear, and I felt my
belly quiver. I wanted him again! I wanted my son to
fuck me till I dropped! Soon, soon, we would be
entwined in yet another deliciously incestuous fuck. I
reached for his cock and looked up into his eyes.
"How long can you keep this thing hard, darling", I
husked, "Mommy wants to fuck you all night long."
Matt slipped two fingers into my juicy, wet slit and
rubbed my clit, a devilish grin on his handsome young
features. His cock was growing in my hand.
"Why don't we find out," he smiled, finger-fucking my
hot hole. "I don't think you'll be disappointed, Mom."
When I slipped away from his bed at dawn, I felt a
pleasant ache deep in my pussy, but I was totally
satisfied. He HAD fucked me all night, in every
possible position, and in every possible orifice. Some
I'd secretly longed to try, like getting a cock up my
ass for the first time, and some I'd never even heard
of, although Matt had obviously perfected them on some
lucky young girl.
My son was a wonderful lover, undoubtedly the most
talented I'd ever had, and I knew that despite the fact
that he was my own son, I simply had to continue the
relationship we'd started. After sampling my son's
talented young prick I was certain that I wouldn't be
able to do without it for a single night.
At work, Tamara smirked when she asked me how my date
had gone.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," I said. "The guy turned
out to be my own son!"
She laughed. "Can I say 'I told you so!'"
"Go ahead! Say it," I said putting on a sad face.
But I was smiling a secret smile. Tamara never
suspected for a second that I spent a night of
unbridled fucking and sucking with my own son!
I wonder if I should tell her?
THE END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 56