Making Mom My Lover
Anonymous
Publisher: Boruma Publishing
Summary
When Randy realizes he wants to seduce his mother, he isn't sure how to start. But over one long, hot weekend, he slowly bends lovely Stella to his will. The games get hotter, the teasing more dangerous, until his gorgeous mom is willing to do anything to make his fantasies a reality. When the storm breaks, it's enough to light up the Georgia skies! Read all about it "Making Mom My Lover!" ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ "Here." Randall uncapped a bottle of fragrant oil and handed it to you. "The website I looked at recommended using oil afterward to, you know. Make sure your skin didn't get all dried out or flaky after you shaved down there." Stella bit her lip, holding back a snicker, as she looked up at Randall's face. It was beet-red, as if she had caught him doing something unspeakable to a goat. "You checked?" He shrugged, his flush getting even deeper. "No harm in being prepared." "True." His concern for her touched her. Taking the bottle from his hand, she poured a drizzle of scented oil onto her skin and began to rub it in. Almost involuntarily, her head fell back into the pillows, and she sighed in pleasure. It wasn't quite masturbation. Rather, it was the simple hedonism of enjoying her own body. She was clean, rested, comfortable, with a belly full of good food and a mind full of wicked thoughts. What harm was there in letting her hands learn a little a bit about the changes the razor had made? "You're so beautiful," Randall whispered. She looked away, unable to deal with the expression on his face. Half-worshipful, half-covetous. Instead, she concentrated on the wonderful feelings coursing through her. She ran her fingertips down her sides, until they rested in the hollows of her thighs, and then back up again. Teasing herself, keeping away from her boiling, bubbling center. "Mom?" "Hmmm?" "Can I help?" She looked up into his eyes, smiling lazily, surrendering at last. "You can do anything you want, baby." She emphasized her final sentence, her words fraught with incestuous desire. "Anything at all." "Good." But to her immense if unvoiced disappointment, Randall didn't strip off his boxers. Didn't even lie down beside her for a pleasant necking session or kiss the tips of her breasts, which were absolutely on fire with need. Instead, he lay down between her legs, his hands caressing her legs and waist while his lips bestowed kisses on the insides of her thighs. "Again?" She tried to make her tone playful. "Haven't you had enough of eating me out?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't think that I aint evah going to get enough of my momma's sweet, tasty body," he declared, his tone a borderline-grotesque southern drawl that made her think of trailer parks, tornados and moonshine. "It's the absolute best in the entire world, even the parts of it I ain't seen, which is purty much all of them." Stella snickered, then gasped as her son's tongue spiraled in and out of her damp folds. Propped against a bank of pillows, she looked down her body, her gaze meeting Randall's. His mouth was full, but his eyes gleamed with a sort of predatory triumph. Never, in all of her life, had she ever gone to bed with a man who got as much sheer satisfaction out of pleasuring her as her son did. It was as if he was competing, not just against himself, but against every other man she had ever screwed, and he was determined to defeat them all.