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Subject: Title story: "Sordid Conception - Part 2/7" Author: INCESTOR 72545760
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Date: Fri, 14 Apr 2006 19:45:22 +0000
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Sordid Conception Part 2/7
"How do you want it tonight, Mom?" he asked up at her. "I'll let you decide,
baby," she said, smoothing his hair off his forehead in a motherly instinct. She
could almost bet money on the position he'd choose. "In that case, Mother dear,"
Brad began, a big smile on his face, "Assume the position......of doggy
submission!" He pulled his fingers from her pussy and sat up on his haunches,
his hard peter sticking up from his hairy pubes like a Stonehendge monolith.
Sharon's bet would have paid off. Her son just loved to take her from behind.
She liked just about any position if the truth was known. "You're so
predictable, Brad," she teased, sitting up and then twisting her body over so
she was in the position he wanted, crouching on her hands and knees in front of
him. She began stacking the two pillows just in front of her as Brad moved
between her calves, his right hand coming up to stroke her puffy pouch of pussy
nestled between the top of her thighs while his left hand lay on her butt. "I
can't help it if I love seeing your ass like this...you got a great ass, Mom,"
Brad said compli- mentary. His knees spread her legs wider and his fingers
dipped back into her slippery slot. "I love to drive my hips into it while I
fuck you." Sharon finished stacking the pillows, smiling at Brad's bawdy talk
and the way he was massaging the inside of her cunt with his fingers. Her
husband never would have been able to use such language and she never would have
experienced it if she's settled down with some older suitor from town. "You like
to watch it shake while you screw me?" Sharon asked, giving him tit-for-tat. She
looked back at him and could almost see his mind trying to think up a comeback.
"You know it, Momma.....it real shakes when I'm throwing Big Chubby to ya!" His
left hand squeezed her asscheek to punctuate his statement. Big Chubby was the
affectionate nickname for his penis which he used with all too much regularity.
"Oh Brad, you're such a rude thing!" Sharon said, moving her pussy back and
forth suggestively around his digits, fucking herself on them. She was more than
ready for Brad to put Big Chubby to use. "You love my rudeness, Mom. So prim and
proper by day but when we get in this bed....man, you like it down and dirty,
don't you?" He was almost laughing at her as he drew his fingers from her satin-
slick slot and moved even closer behind her, his figure now seeming to loom over
her upthrust ass. His eyes were on her face as he dipped his knees slightly and
slapped his stiff prick up against her womanhood. It was apparent that he wanted
an answer before he con- tinued. "You know I'm no angel, baby. An angel doesn't
sleep with her own son." Her words pleased Brad he began to smile. She went
further. "An angel doesn't get down on her hands and knees and let her son fuck
her all night!" That got him. She turned her face away from him and held her
breath as he directed the tip of his cock against the flower of her pussyhole
and pushed strongly. After all the times he had done this, he knew just the
right pressure to apply to sock the fat head of his fucker past the resisting
ring of her pussy portal. His hearty cry of "I'm going to fuck you all night!"
completely covered her "AAAAHHHHHHH!" of pleasure and pain as he entered her.
She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip for the few seconds of discomfort but
it went away quickly. "Oh yeaaahhh!" Brad gasp. "Get ready to get fucked, you
dirty, dirty angel." Sharon's mouth fell open as her son began pushing the rest
of his thick fuckstick through her splayed cunt lips. It felt like a fire
hydrant being stuffed up her pussy but she was used to it, welcomed it. "Shit, I
love your pussy, Mom....you take it so easy," Brad grunted as his strong hands
held her ass and he shoved his hefty schlong in inch by wide inch. "Uh....it's
not that easy, baby," Sharon said through gritted teeth. He always compared her
to girls his own age that he ...
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