Chapter 2

“Remember that night that you confessed to me you had those fantasies about Mark? Well, honey, here is your surprise. You wanted your son, and I’m giving him to you.”

Tim’s words registered in Jennifer’s brain, but they seemed to come from a distance. It all seemed hazy. She had indeed confessed her incestuous desires to Tim one night, and it had turned him on immensely and they fucked like rabbits for the rest of the night.
But of all the fantasies she had, this surely had to be the one she expected least to ever happen. After all, what are the odds of a woman having sexual desires for her son, AND her husband respecting that, AND her son being willing, all at once.

Yet here he was, her son. Lying on her marriage bed, completely naked lying in a position he had to be in because her husband told him it made her mouth water. Conflicting thoughts were going through Jennifer’s mind. He was her son, this wasn’t supposed to happen, at least not out of fantasy; She should get dressed; She should feel ashamed; This was all just a dream.

Yet Jennifer’s perverted alter ego dismissed it all. She knew it was her son lying on her bed, yet that was exactly the reason why she didn’t want to get dressed, and instead of feeling ashamed she felt pure lust. Her juices were running down her thighs even more profusely than before, realizing she was standing naked in front of her son, delectable and pungent. She knew her own son could smell her cunt and she loved that fact. She knew he could look at her twat, see her matted bush and the pink slit in between, and she loved that fact. She was going to be an incestuous mother and fuck the shit out of her own son and she loved that fact. Her own husband was going to be present and would like it, and she loved that fact. Finally, Jennifer could be everything she really wanted to be. The kind of freak she was all along.

“Well, honey. Whatever it is that you feel like doing; go right ahead. After admitting your fantasy about Mark to me I told you how much it would turn me on to just watch you, so that’s what I’m gonna do for the time being.”

Again Jennifer heard what Tim said, but almost as if in a dream. She would thank him for his surprise later.

Jennifer looked at her son’s cock. It had to be at least 8 inches. And it was thicker than her husband’s cock. She made her eyes wander from top to bottom, her gaze going over the shiny purple head, drops of clear fluid running out the little piss-slit, then her gaze went down, down along his shaft, the shaft with a number of veins running through it. Then lower still, she gazed at his nut sack. Two egg sized balls hung low between his legs, the weight of them making the sack hang almost in front of his asshole. A black forest of hair obscuring the rest of his crack.
Jennifer’s mouth had begun to water, and without even noticing it, her hands were leading their own lives. One hand was squeezing one of her tits, and rolling a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger, another hand had disappeared between her legs, its fingers rubbing into the pink slit. Rubbing up and down, rubbing the sticky juices into her entire crotch, showing the delectable pink gash to her son as her fingers rubbed upward and the fingertips strummed her clit.
Aside from mouth-watering and playing her body with her hands, Jennifer was also groaning, a low rumble coming from the pit of her throat. Her hips were swaying as she kept ogling the powercock belonging to her own flesh and blood as her husband had silently settled himself into a chair, watching his wife, wondering what she would do first.

Mark was still grinning as his mother seemed to be in a world of her own, playing with her body as she stared at his cock as if hypnotized. He then threw oil on the fire by grabbing his cock in a hand and squeezing it, making the purple head bulge and a stream of precum ooze from his piss-slit, coating the top of his index finger. Slowly he pumped up and down, making his balls jiggle and dance between his thighs, his foreskin playing peek-a-boo with the head of his cock. Jennifer’s fingers were now noisily and sloppily digging in and out of her leaking snatch. The rubbing fingers making the pubic hairs that were still relatively dry rustle, but making slurping and squishing sounds as they invaded her pussy hole.

“My son,” Jennifer whispered dreamily. “My son is on my bed waiting for ME. And that cock…that gorgeous, big fucking cock is his.”

“That’s right, mom,” Mark told his fingering mother, “I’m waiting for you with this cock. Its yours to do with as you please whenever you want it. Come take your son, mom. Come to you own flesh and blood and do whatever you want.”

Like a prowling leopard, Jennifer bent over and crawled onto the bed, crawling over her son’s legs until her face was close enough to his cock to smell his musk. She momentarily looked up, looking over the rim of her glasses into her son’s eyes. The look she exchanged with Mark was a mixed one. A look that betrayed not only the lust they were feeling for each other, but also the fact that both of them were aware that they were mother and son, and that that was precisely what caused this lust in the first place. The acts they were about to perform were between a mother and her son, and that’s what was going to make it so hot for them. Mark took his mother’s glasses off of her face, setting them on the nightstand.
And then Jennifer paid attention to her son’s meat again.

Mark took his sticky hand away, leaving his cock shaft smeared with his precum. Without much pause Jennifer then replaced his hand with hers. Her small, warm hand grabbed the shaft, feeling the stickiness. She felt the warmth of it, the power of it in the palm of her hand. She then pointed it toward her face, and settled her nose against the moist, sticky head of it. Then she inhaled powerfully, smelling the odor of her son’s cock in her very soul. She took it from her nose again, making and breaking small strands of precum that connected his purple crown with the tip of her nose. Jennifer panted and so did Mark, as she then slowly moved her hand up and down in wonder, looking the tool in her hand over, watching it’s actions and movements from the tip to his balls as she slowly jerked him. Watching the balls dance up and down. Watching the piss slit open slightly and closing with each pump, making clear fluids ooze out and coating her index finger.
Feeling the skin of his shaft move up and down over his meat.
She let go for a moment and looked at the juices on her index finger. His precum.
She then looked her son straight in the eye as she stuck out her tongue and dragged it along her finger with a passionately grimacing face, savoring it’s taste.

“So good,” she slithered.

She then took hold of the cock again and never letting go of her gaze into his eyes, started circling her tongue around the head of his cock, lapping up his precum as it oozed out of his piss hole each time she squeezed his shaft.

Mark felt his mother’s tongue go around and over his sensitive cock-tip as she pumped him, and the tongue-lashing was driving him nuts. Her tongue was tickling him at the same time it was almost hurting him with pleasure. And all the while his thoughts kept repeating the same thing over and over again:

“My mother’s tongue is licking my cock. My mother’s tongue is licking my cock.”

Being a true mother, she and her boy thought a lot alike, as she too was repeating the same phrase in her mind:

“I’m licking my own son’s cock. I’m licking my own son’s cock.”

Mother and son were reveling in the incestuous deed with ultimate abandon, as Jennifer licked stream after stream of precum from Mark’s purple head and at the same time pumping his dick with a tight grip. She enjoyed his smell as she dipped the tip of her tongue into his piss slit as deep as it would go, mini-fucking his piss slit with the tip of her tongue, using it to spoon out more of her son’s tasty dick liquids.

In the corner, Tim was sitting in a chair, his pants around his ankles, jerking his cock as he watched his wife enjoying their son.