0 comments/ 6152 views/ 0 favorites Dancing on The Edge By: llslavetouchll The Beauty of The Edge is that it is so delicate, yet so Firm. It is like it dangles in mid-air... taunting, teasing Us to dance to it. Once one is there... at that Edge, that precipice of euphoria, we cannot breathe for we fear a single breath will alter that pure moment that suspends in eternity. It knows. The Edge Knows that euphoria is within us and that is why it taunts us and teases Us to come hither. Once there, it takes our breath away, literally. It will charm by granting us purified oxygen, so pure our human minds have no word nor definition to it, granting to our meager system and tempting us to inhale more. More of this so-called oxygen that us beings think we've truly experienced. Yet it programs our brains, circulates our blood, transforming our neuropath. We, us greedy ones, so hungry for this constant euphoria, inhale as if our life depends on it. Inhaling at The Edge... tippy toes, grasping for more. We realize... that our Life truly Does depend on that euphoria. We dance, mesmerized with what has been found. . . . The ecstasy beyond reason . . . . . . Engulfing us . . . ~charmed beyond dizziness~ We are then, suspended within The Edge. To capture that one moment where time stands still, we are no longer tempted and we become drunk on that bliss. Then it becomes torturous because we actually believe we have enough control to summon more of this euphoria on The Edge. Not The Edge of Euphoria... but THE Edge. But, we do not have that much control and that is where The Edge then comes to own us. A Master may take their charge To that place. A spiritual slave may find that place, but to feel one owns that control Alone... hence, there is no control at all. For... To Control, One must have one to control... even if it is One Self. Alas, Self begins to form Itself and there lies another problem while Dancing upon this Blessed Edge. THE Edge past euphoria, past erotic ecstasy... for The Edge holds all of that and more that we cannot experience alone. To be Only Of Self, is simply that... Selfish. Yet, all along... The Edge remains, suspended for us. Beckoning... Taunting... Reminding... And past taunting, past teasing, past tempting and believing we have such a control, the breathing in inhalation almost chokes us and we turn frantically with an almost expectation that another is to give us that anxious breath we need. Yet that purified intoxication we think is called merely oxygen remains, engulfing us and we can almost feel life-like fingers enfolding us. To breathe, we must inhale... then exhale. Inhale... exhale... Inhale deeply... exhaling quickly so we may yet again... inhale. Panting and almost demanding. Commanding. Therefore, we cannot even begin to grasp the concept of constantly being on THE Edge. Therein, lies the Beauty. Purified, intoxicating... You feel it don't you? ...Almost. That special air that is shared between two most lucky beings. When we find each other there, at The Edge, and truly acknowledge We are Both there, We begin to Master the Edge... that euphoria. We. When it is realized that We are Both dancing upon that Edge... The Edge almost seems to become envious. Yet, that is what a foolish mind will think. For it is in the Soul that we are permitted to Experience The Edge. It knows. IT Knows. It has captured Both and sees the greed, the intoxication and It insists to remind Us that We are to be there not as two separates, but as One Whole. So... It releases us. So we think. It releases Us unto Itself. Therefore, in Unison with Us. The blood rushes as we grasp for more air, more exhaling, more... As the Dance Rises In Crescendo... We then... Release Ourselves unto Eachother. . . . . . Totally Unified . . . . . No, it reminds us... that we were capable to get to that Edge only because of that hunger, that True Hunger to Live and Experience Completely. But, we cannot Experience that hunger and nourishment alone and we are then reminded of our humanity. That sleep must come, that our humble human forms cannot even begin to fathom the Beauty and Awe that the True Edge really is. Yet, we dive. We dive, whether eyes are open or they are shut. We either dive alone because we slip from the Edge, or because we can no longer handle nor Experience Life on the other side of the Edge. We may dive because we are almost expectant that the Abyss will capture us and save us. Yet, surely nothing will do such a thing when our simple mind becomes expectant. We may dive with an open free-fall because we already know... We know we are simply without control. Yet the only way to Feel Alive again is to take the only control we have... The control to dive~ Nothing more... nothing less. The Edge, it sometimes will strangle and seem to suffocate us and we are then intoxicated by it... Hence, Erotic Asphyxiation. What remains after The Edge has given us simply a taste is only our sanity. Like a tranquil neurosis or stabilized insanity only which is shared between Us. 'Tis truly insane to not attempt that Edge every so often. After all... Do We truly wish everything merely... stable? So... We dance. We dance to The Edge... We dance on that Edge. Sometimes we can go higher and Experience The Edge and sometimes... we sleep. Yet, to sleep is to forget. ~ The pain becomes a shelter while sleeping ~ Alas, We Dance higher, Experiencing... Eachother. Then... We may blissfully... Rest... Together. ||-slavetouch-|| Quote: "Without music, Life would be a mistake... i would only believe in a God who knew how to dance." ~* Friedrich Nietzsche *~ Dancing on the Edge of a Knife To my readers, As always, I'm very grateful for the wonderful feedback I've received from you. It's by your encouragement that I continue to share these stories with you. As always, I will disclose right away that all of my stories contain both truth and embellishment. If you are a reader who believes that every aspect of every erotic story should be completely believable by everyone who reads it, I encourage you to read on with the reminder that Literotica is a world with both fantasy and sharing. I enjoy mixing the two. Sincerely, Joni ***** My name is Joni, and this is a story about weakness of will and forbidden lust. A recount of a time that I found myself in a very tempting situation with my unconscious son. How I danced on the edge of a blade instead of pushing aside spur-of-the-moment desires and walking away, and then became obsessed with the act and made a terrible habit out of it. I'll of course begin with a little bit of background. I was a single 38 year old mother of two living in a comfortable suburban neighborhood. My Husband, Stephan, was taken by cancer in late 2001, seven years before this story takes place. I'd been alone since then, and my children and I had moved on from the tragedy and with our lives. I have a son, Jack, who was 18 at the time, and a daughter, Rachael, who was just under a year older than Jack. Since Stephan's passing, my kids and I had become very close. We leaned on each other emotionally for a long time after he lost his fight with cancer. To paint a general picture, it wasn't uncommon for us all to cuddle up together and watch a movie, walk around the house in next to nothing, use the restroom with the door open, or even sometimes fall asleep together when I was having a rough time coping with things. Of course these things happened more seldom now that they were basically adults, but suffice to say that some things as you read on that might seem abnormal to you were perfectly natural for us. I was pretty fit at 38. After Stephan passed I started working out a lot, having been directed to do so by my therapist. I also instructed a yoga class at our local fitness center. I'm 5' 10" tall and I weighed 152 pounds. I have long blonde hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. I regularly wore makeup, both at home and at work, but not to the gym. I'm a little bit curvy on account of birthing hips, but my stomach is flat and I've got a lot of toned muscle. Being active is a funny thing. It's really difficult at first, but after awhile it comes naturally and you learn to look forward to it. I'll also say that as a coping widow who's not ready to date, but still has an appetite, it's really nice to get noticed when I'm at the gym. Of course it helps that I have a pretty generous rack, and can probably credit many of those stares to my 36D cup size. My daughter Rachael was 19 at the time and was enrolled in a local community college where she was planning to study nursing. For now she was only focusing on her general education courses, so her workload wasn't overwhelming and living at home made her more fortunate financially than most students. She was a redhead like her father with dark green eyes, taller than me by an inch, and dainty. She didn't exercise a ton like I did, but she had the metabolism of a young woman. She rarely wore makeup, and I think she's pretty enough that she doesn't need it. She wore a C cup that fit her body very well. Rachael wasn't much of a party animal yet, but she was a social butterfly and had a lot of friends. She did a lot of volunteer work when she was in high school, so I wasn't surprised when she told me she wanted to be a nurse. Helping people seemed to come naturally to her. My son Jack, as I mentioned, was 18 years old. He would soon finish his senior year in high school and was taking college calculus I on the side, which I was actually quite proud of. At the time he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he later settled on electrical engineering. He was thin like his sister, but more muscular. He had dirty blonde hair, just a shade darker than his mothers, and gray eyes like mine. He was a tall 6'2" with a lean build, less muscular than some of his friends. He lifted weights with these friends at the same gym as I did, and I'd seen him smack his buddies upside the head for staring at me more than once, which I found flattering. He didn't have much body hair yet, and to be honest Stephan never had a lot even before he passed. Jack wasn't big into sports, but managed to hang out with the kids that were. I think that Stephan's passing humbled my children, and aged them emotionally. I know many kids that go through this type of thing end up a lot worse than mine did, and I genuinely think that putting them into therapy with me helped. I strongly advocate it to families going through the same thing. What I don't advocate are the incestuous things I did with them after a moment of tired, slightly intoxicated weakness. ------------- The school year was on the downhill slope. The snow was melting into patches of bright green grass and the smell of Spring was teasing the air. Jack was less busy as he had been in years previous and probably spent less time on all of his other classes combined as he did on calculus. Rachael was taking a few general education classes and didn't quite yet understand how stressful college would eventually become. I was working in the HR department of a local propane distribution company for just thirty hours a week, so we had a lot of time to spend at home together. We were comfortable, as Stephan had left us a small fortune, and I valued time at home more than a modest income, and mostly worked enough to keep the three of us on health insurance. It had been long enough since he'd passed that I had become incredibly lonely and, when I had time at home alone, I would lay in bed and masturbate, usually with a vibrator that I'd purchased at my friend Sharon's 'passion party', which was a common thing in those times where girlfriends would get together and giggle over sex toys and get 'guilted' into purchasing things. It was a good sized pink shaft in a rubber sheath and I loved the way it felt against my clitoris. It was a Friday night, which was movie night for my kids and I. We had made it a custom to halt all homework and meet in the living room in our pajamas at 8:00 PM to have a few drinks and watch a movie. Many parents would scoff at the idea of allowing an 18 and 19 year old to drink at home, but Stephan was raised under the belief that it was safer to do under your own roof than out where trouble could happen, and he was especially protective of our daughter, so I honored that belief by raising my kids the same way. I have to say, it really does make a difference, as neither of my kids were big trouble makers and I didn't have to worry about my daughter getting date raped... It was Jack's turn to pick a movie, and he'd selected a flick called 'The count of Monte Cristo', a 2002 remake of a famous film from 1934, which was based on a book that was published in 1844. My son always picked movies like these, and it's actually quite good if you're sober enough to get through the first hour or so, which I honestly wasn't at the time. "I don't know why you always have to pick snoozers like this, Jack." Rachael remarked from the sofa chair, sipping her moscato. "It's better than watching Disney movies like we do on your turn, loser." Jake responded playfully from the couch where he sat slouched beside me with a long island iced tea I'd made him. "Psh, don't diss on my Disney pip squeak, you like them and you know it." came Rachael's rebuttal, setting her wine on the lamp table beside her. I laughed and shook my head from where I sat leaning against the opposite arm of the couch from Jack in my silk blue nightgown, my legs laying on top of each other, my feet resting a few inches from my son's leg. "Alright that's enough bickering kids, let's start the movie." I said, ending the debate. Rachael stuck her tongue out at Jack, and Jack flipped her off, but that was the end of it. We started watching the movie finally. Rachael and I drank our wine and Jack nursed his long island. Rachael fell asleep in the first thirty minutes of the movie, which wasn't uncommon on Jack's movie night. I had about a fifty-fifty success rate with sitting through Jack's selections, but I always gave it my best shot. This time I fell asleep right at about the time that the main protagonist was trying to escape from a prison with a spoon I think. By now Jake and I had switched position so that we were laying down together, me in front and him behind me with his arm draped over me. It wasn't uncommon, uncomfortable, or unnatural for us to cuddle like this on movie night, and until this night nothing lewd had ever even entered my mind with regard to my son and I laying like this. Sometime in the night I tiredly opened my eyes after what ended up to be an incredibly erotic dream wherein I was being ravaged from behind by my son's best friend Tommy, a muscular young man who I saw with my son at the gym. My thighs were soaked in my juices and the greedy hotness between my legs was overwhelming. My head was still spinning from a few too many glasses of wine, but I was suddenly aware of something large and solid nestled between my ass cheeks and a large hand cupped over my left breast outside of my nightgown, under which I wore no bra. My tired eyes flashed wide suddenly as I realized that my son was sleeping behind me with a giant erection pressed against my ass and his hand gripping one of my tits. I wasn't sure just then how big it was, but the hard shaft lay all the way along the length of my ass crack... 'He must have the biggest cock...' I thought, then scolded myself mentally. This was quite the situation I was in... I assumed he must be sleeping by the deep breathing through his nose hot against my neck where his head lay nestled in my hair, which wasn't surprising because he'd had three long island iced teas, which if you don't know is quite a lot of liquor. I gulped, not really sure of the best way to proceed with this situation... Slowly I looked up to the sofa chair where Rachael had been and the digital clock glowing above it. It was 2:28 AM, and Rachael had already gone to bed. Likely she saw us sleeping here and had draped the blanket she had been using over top of Jack and I. Thank God for that because if she'd walked in now, I would undoubtedly be very embarrassed. "Mmmm..." Jack moaned softly in his sleep, giving my breast a gentle squeeze and pressing his length against me, which caused me to shudder and the fire between my legs to burn wetly. God! I was SO horny! This was so wrong, but I didn't have the will power to remove myself from the situation... In fact, I wanted more... So much more! I closed my eyes and imagined what it would feel like to have that enormous thing buried inside of me so very much deeper than any of my toys... Maybe I could just play around a little bit? If I took it slow enough not to wake him, I might be able to make the most of this stimulating situation without my son knowing any better. Butterflies fluttered relentlessly in my belly as I slowly reached up to his hand where it cupped my breast, resting my slender hand on top of his and very gently encouraging another squeeze, which he easily obliged in his sleep. With my other hand I was slowly working my already short nightgown up past my naval, planning to work my soaking pussy with my fingers while this transpired... but then I thought 'How much better would it be if it were him... I wonder...' I'd read somewhere that people deep in sleep could act their dreams out to some extent, and also that things they felt and heard could inspire dreams. If I could get his hand in my panties without waking him... maybe I could get these two phenomena to feed each other and get fingered by my son... This was so wrong, but my head was spinning with lust and I didn't care. I was also really turned on by how forbidden this was. If he woke up while doing it, I wouldn't be responsible for the act at all... So I was maybe a little too confident that I could get away with it. By now my panties were absolutely ruined by my flowing juices. I'd always had a problem with being a little bit too wet when things heated up like this and making a big mess. Jack's breathing remained slow and steady against my neck, and his cock remained rock hard in the crack of my curvy ass. Gently I pressed down on his hand with mine, and slowly, carefully started to guide it downward. It easily cascaded over the breast it had gripped and eventually rested on my sternum just below them. His muscles were limp with relaxation and it was really easy to move his hand over my skin, but I kept the descent painfully slow out of fear for waking him. I took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly as I started guiding his hand down along my stomach. I held the hem of my nightgown with my free hand to prevent him from pushing it back down when I moved his hand over it. I then curled the fingertips of my guiding hand under his just enough to gently lift them onto the bunched fabric right above the bare skin below. After this, continuing to breathe slowly and listening for any change in his breathing, I moved my hand back to rest on his, gently pressing down and guiding it further south. I shuddered with excitement as his fingertips first made contact with the bare skin above my naval, stopping there for a moment to take in what I was doing, well beyond the point of return already. My son's breathing continued its relaxed, deep pace. I dared not give in to my almost unbearable temptation to press my ass back against his raging erection. Gathering my bearings, I began moving his hand again toward my saturated panties. My skin tingled as I guided his warm hand slowly across the soft skin above my naval. I exerted only enough pressure on his hand to move it, and not enough that his middle finger would get caught in my belly button that it slowly drifted over. My pussy was gushing by the time his fingertips reached the waistband of my panties. I knew I would need to give him room down there, so I slowly extended my right, top leg straight, keeping my toes pointing out from the couch as not to need to reposition my ass, which comfortably cradled my son's monster erection. I shifted my bottom leg out from the couch and bent at the knee slowly so that the knee pointed out perpendicular from the couch, lowering my foot quietly to rest on the floor on its side, toes of my left foot pointing in the same direction as the other. Now, taking another deep breath, I pushed down a bit more firmly on his fingertips with mine, feeling the soft flesh of my belly above my panties sink in, then began guiding him southward again, both sets of fingers slipping under the waistband of my panties. Trembling, I continued guiding downward, listening to his breathing intently as I felt his middle finger reach the top of the valley that split my pussy. I kept my trembling breath quiet as I moved my hand up to his wrist, wrapping slender fingers around it gently and, painfully slow, pushing his hand downward a bit further into wetter territory. As the backs of my son's limp fingers moved along the inner crotch of my soaking panties they began to curl in against the resistance of the elastic fabric, fingers facing my wet entrance. I was exerting enough force downward on his wrist for the time being that his hand hadn't yet touched my vagina, but hovered just above it, pushing the panties away from it. I shivered at the feeling of free air between my tight, soaked hole and his hand. Finally, and gradually, I let go of his wrist, stifling a gasp as his limp hand gave way to the elastic pull of my panties toward my pussy and his fingers easily sunk in between the soft folds of my saturated labia. For a few minutes I just lay there taking slow, shaking breaths, my juices coating my sons fingers and running down along the backs of them. I hoped lustfully that he would do something, that he would sink a finger into me and begin playing, anything... but nothing happened, and were I not delusional with lust I would have known that he wouldn't in have done anything unconsciously. Finally I reached down, resting my hand on his from outside of my panties and gently pushing against it to take control again, sighing softly at the pressure of a man's hand against my sex. Sure that his breathing was still deep and slow, I started to move his hand in very slow, small circles. "Hmmm..." I sighed quietly, relishing the feeling of my son's hand between my legs. I did this for a couple of minutes, but needed more. I shimmied his hand back and forth a little bit with just a bit of extra pressure on his middle finger so that it sank down between my soft, slippery cunt lips, his fingertip just barely penetrating the deep, hungry hole beyond. The wet folds of my labia enveloped his middle finger completely as I released pressure from it. It felt like my whole body would explode any moment, but I had to stay composed and focused on my son's breathing. Now I rested my hand on his again just a little higher than before, the tips of my fingers on his middle knuckles, pushing down on his and working it downward a bit further. His middle finger started to curl inward as I pushed his hand, easily penetrating my tight, slippery hole further. The others simply wrapped around and cupped my cunt. I did this until his middle finger was completely inside of me, sighing quiet moans once and awhile. Now that I'd guided one of his fingers into me, I needed to try to incite a dream so that he might finger his mother in his sleep. Slowly I pushed my hips outward slightly, which made his finger push into me a little deeper. With this motion, my ass glided over the huge erection nestled between its cheeks. After this I moved my ass back to the original position, gripping the side of the couch with my right hand to assist my motions. I repeated the movement, slowly and slightly making my sons finger slide in and out of me while my ass moved up and down the long shaft of his boxer clad cock. "Mmmm..." my son moaned softly in my ear, and I stopped so that if he woke so he'd think he was doing all of this himself. As I stopped, his breathing went back to normal, but he started to move his hips slowly as though his body denied the absence of the previous motions, his shaft moving up and down along the crack of my ass. I closed my eyes and relished it, then softly whispered "Ooohh..." as I felt his finger start to move inside of me. I started to move my hips again with him, matching his slow motions and sighing softly as his finger started to move in and out of me again. There was life in his hand now and it was magical. "Nnhh..." I sighed as another finger slipped into the folds and penetrated me with the first. Repeatedly and mechanically he curled his fingers in, then twirled them along my vaginal walls to push in the other direction. He was fingering me. I couldn't believe it, but my own son was fingering me in his sleep and gliding his cock up and down along the length of my ass crack. "Mmmmm..." he moaned quietly against my neck as he fucked me gently with his fingers. I knew he must have been dreaming about the very thing he was doing. My own breath began to quicken a little as I whispered a moan "Hhhaahhh..." still gently bucking my hips against his probing fingers. I pressed my lips tight together to prevent myself from moaning, gripping the couch cushion tightly as he moved his fingers in and out of my sopping wet cunt hole. With a sharp intake of breath through my nose I moaned as quietly as I could through my lips "Mmmmmmm...!" as I came to a mind numbing climax, a hot waterfall of fluid ejaculating around my son's fingers into and onto his already wet hand. Dancing on the Edge of a Knife I breathed quickly through my nose as my orgasm trembled to an end, but unaware as he was, he simply continued the same motion, fingering me and dragging his long shaft up and down between my ass cheeks. He had no idea that he'd just fingered his mother to orgasm, or that hot liquids now cascaded down along my left leg from my insatiable cunt and soaked into the couch cushion beneath us. I needed more... I wanted him inside of me so, so badly that I can't even explain the psychology behind my mentality at the time. Taking a deep breath in, I reached down to my pussy, easily, but still slowly, pushing the crotch of my totally drenched panties aside to bunch up against my leg on the wetter, left side of my pussy. This exposed my vagina and his probing finger. I then carefully lifted my left foot onto the couch, leaving that knee bent, then similarly bent my right knee so that it rested on top of my left. I slowly arched my back, causing his fingers to slip out of me as my smooth, bare pussy moved back beyond his reach. This motion also caused my ass to rise up his body a bit and press back against his lower abs while providing access to my lubricated vaginal opening from behind... if only his enormous rod were freed from his boxers. That was my next task... he'd fallen back into a deep, slow breathing slumber with the absence of pressure against his cock and warmth around his fingers. I reached around, gently resting my fingertips at the base of his cock outside of his boxers and very slowly brushing them up along the shaft to get an idea of what I was in for. I gulped nervously as I brushed my fingers upward, clearing his waistband of his boxers and continuing to brush up against the bare skin of his shaft for another few inches before reaching the thick head. 'Oh God...!' I thought. 'That will never fit... How is he so big?!'... swallowing nervously again, I knew I needed to try. I reached down again, gingerly taking one side of the front opening in his boxers between my fingertips, working open the single button here to make the access into his boxers larger. I took this very slowly, stopping movement altogether for several seconds at a time and listening to his breathing as I reached into his boxers and wrapped my soft fingers around the shaft of his monster erection. It was thick enough that I couldn't touch my thumb to any of my other fingers and I gulped once more. Slowly I reached around my same side with my left hand, and though the reach was limited, I was able to take the waistband of his boxers with my fingertips and pull upward a little bit, which allowed me to tuck the head of his enormous cock under it and release it from them through the hole in the front. His breathing was still slow and calm against my neck. In my right hand, which now felt very small, I held my son's monster cock by the shaft. I had brought my left hand back around, tucking my arm in and reaching up, laying my head on my wrist, my hand resting against the arm of the couch, making it easier to keep my cunt hole pointing in his direction. I could feel hot remnants of my orgasm and my continued wetness trickling down my left ass cheek in small streaks as I pointed the head of my son's cock at my opening. Keeping his hard cock pointing right at my cunt, I slowly, and nervously started to close the short distance between them by bending at my knees further and gently pushing myself down with my left hand. I shuddered, uttering quietly through gritting teeth "Nnngh..." as the head of his throbbing erection sunk easily between the slippery lips of my waiting entrance, stretching my labia wide. For awhile I just rested like this, trying to take control of my breathing again. My son's breathing had quickened somewhat, but was still steady and heavy through his nose, still asleep. I let go of his cock now that it's head had already disappeared between the hot, slippery folds of my labia and was sure to hit its mark. I gently placed my right hand on top of his where it rested, still very wet, on my stomach, interlacing his slippery fingers with my own and then so very gently pushing myself back a little bit more, impaling another two thick inches of cock into my hungry cunt, which stretched out wide with the effort. "Hhhoooohhh..." I whimpered quietly, stopping here again. "Huh?" I heard him say suddenly, tiredly. I paniced, and dared not move another muscle. My heart was suddenly racing. I was caught between fear and ecstasy, and hoped he wouldn't realize that I had initiated this debauchery. His breathing was much faster suddenly, and I felt his cock twitch inside of me, to which I squeezed a gentle response, sighing a soft "Hmmm..." as if asleep myself. "Mom?" he whispered. I didn't respond. Finally, he boldly and slowly started to push his hips forward. I gasped softly, then closed my mouth tight and moaned quietly between them as another several inches had descended into the depths of my burning, gushing cunt. He stopped immediately, likely in fear of waking me... 'Oh God!' I thought, 'It's stretching me so wide!', and I was regretting all the work I had done to tighten myself up, as well as the fact that this position made me even tighter, because I would have a hard time staying quiet. Again I gave a gentle squeeze with my cunt muscles. At this point I didn't need to do anything, as the tables had turned and it was him in control. He had woken up and found himself fucking his own mother from behind, and to my great luck, went with it. He pushed forward even further, and I moaned through my lips again as I took another three inches... 'Oh GOD... Where does it end?!' I thought wildly, staying completely still and breathing quickly through my nose, giving another gentle squeeze. Again, he pushed forward, and I had to hold my lips together like a vice grip to keep from crying out as the soft head of his enormous monster of a cock pushed up against my cervix deep, deep inside of me. This was as deep as he could go, and I still hadn't bottomed out on him. I couldn't believe how utterly stretched and full I felt. My round ass was just barely touching his thighs, so there was at least another inch or two that he could have buried into his mother's cunt if there was room. I breathed in, and out, shakily through my nose a few times as my son rested his enormous erection inside of me like this. Finally, after a long while, he started to slowly, carefully pull his lubricated monster out of my straining, soaking wet cunt. I knew with our position and his size that he wouldn't be able to pull it out of me all the way, and shuddered in ecstasy as my own son's cock firmly massaged the thousands of clitoral nerve ending inside of my vagina on its way out. In his over-stimulated excitement, he seemed to throw caution into the wind and drove it back into me much harder than I would have allowed if I had been in control, his cock head slamming against my cervix again deep inside of me, forcing himself in just a little bit deeper than before. My mouth burst open and I let out a groan "OOOhh...!" as he did this. I quickly snapped my mouth shut again, whimpering through my lips. Jack was breathing against my neck steadily, making not another movement for a few moments. I squeezed again gently with my cunt, breathing steadily as if asleep. Again he pulled himself out of me slowly, then thrust back in again. "HhhMMMMmmmgh!" I moaned through my lips, more pleasure now than pain jolting through my body. This continued, and each thrust forced me to moan against my will through my lips in quiet, high pitched hums. I gripped his hand as tightly as I dared while he fucked me. Eventually I was able to predict when each thrust would come, and would push my ass back at him as he did, desperate to stretch the hot, wet cave he was creating deep and wide enough to completely fit him inside. More than once his thrusts forced me into quiet, gasping orgasms. Each time I would ejaculate wetly around his enormous cock, hot, clear liquid pouring out of me and running down the little remaining length of his shaft onto his balls and down the side of my ass. 'Oh GOD... Oh God, oh God, oh God!!' I kept screaming in my head. 'My son is fucking me!!' I thought proudly as he ravaged me. I couldn't believe he was still going at me, but I was grateful because I still wanted to get that last inch into me. The squishing sound of my wet cunt being filled as he fucked me was such a turn on. He must be having a wonderful time now, and I loved being a part of it. I loved the multiple orgasms that he forced me to have as I supposedly slept. I assumed his stamina must be on account of the slow speed at which he pulled it out of me each time. Again and again I pushed my ass back against him when he thrust, the head of his cock slamming against my cervix and stretching me open. It was a bit painful I'll admit, but the pleasure was so much greater. Finally his hand tightened into a fist and he held it tightly against my belly as he slammed his erection hard into my abused little cunt hole. I pushed my ass back against him when he did this just as I had been for awhile. Again my lips broke apart in a hushed moan "Ooooh...!" as I felt my pussy lips flatten against his body at the base of his giant cock. The head of his penis pushed aggressively against my stretched in cervix and he just held me there, his spasming cock starting to inject stream after stream of hot, milky cum directly into my uterus. My eyes flashed wide and I started to shudder with orgasm at feeling of the hot, thick liquid filling me up. My son had an enormous dick, and an outrageous amount of cum to unload into his mother's juicy cunt as he climaxed. I was so overwhelmed with incestuous lust that I hadn't even let the thought that this would happen enter my mind, and realized now as I trembled with orgasm that with so much cum, I may well have gotten pregnant. Finally, gradually, he released his grip on me, his massive member beginning to deflate inside of me after filling my womb up with what felt like a full pint of cum. His body began to relax again and his breathing once more settled to a slow and steady pace, as if sleeping, or pretending to. Slowly, I shifted forward a little bit, my son's softening monster slipping out of my cum-filled cunt inch by inch. When his cock flopped out of me, a river of white cum came rushing after. I just lay there for several minutes, slowly managing control of my breathing again as semen poured down along my big ass, totally coating my left glute and gathering in a pool on the couch over the course of a few minutes. Slowly I gazed up at the clock. It was 4:00AM. I'd coaxed my sleeping son into fucking me over the course of an hour and a half, the last 45 minutes of which he'd been awake and hammering his erection into me over and over... He must be very nervous now. Of course I would need to remove myself from the situation and let him think that I'd thought he'd simply had a wildly good wet dream, somehow leaving the mess on me. I slowly sat up, his limp hand falling to his side as I did, my ass mashing down against an enormous pool of cum. He was pretending to be asleep, as I'd expected he would, and I made no action to call him out. Slowly I stood up, the sticky cum stretching between my ass and the couch as I did until I was fully standing. I looked back to my ass, admiring how soaked it was. I quietly retreated to my bedroom, leaving my son in a wet mess on the couch. I cleaned myself up with towels as best as I could, not daring to try to shower lest I wake Rachael, then lay down in my bed and almost immediately fell into a deep, satisfied sleep. -------------------- My eyes flashed open to the sound of pounding on my bedroom door. "Mom, wake up already!" Jack yelled. I yawned softly, stretching my arms and responded "W-What time is it, honey?" "It's almost 10 mom. I can't believe you're sleeping in this much, you must have been sleeping for like 12 hours." he said, seeming nervous. Apparently he assumed and hoped I was asleep while he had been repeatedly ramming his rod into my cunt. "Rachael made breakfast, it's ready." "Alright, thank you dear." I said warmly, standing up and moving to the bathroom for a shower. After showering and drying up I threw on a robe and made my way to the kitchen with tired eyes. I sat down at the table across from Jack and started sipping the cup of coffee Rachael had poured me, acting as normal as I could. "Well good morning, sleepy head." Rachael said, placing a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. Then she asked "What time did you end up heading to bed from the couch?" I turned beet red, and looked down to my food. "Oh... around 4:00 this morning or so I think." I said. Jack was looking across the table to me very nervously, clearly trying to figure out whether or not I knew what had happened. Rachael grinned and said "Well good thing you got away when you could. Jack peed in the couch!" she squealed. "I did not!" Jack yelled, beet red. "I spilled something there last night, I told you a thousand times!" "Suure you did. Mom, was that cushion wet when you went to bed?" Rachael asked me. "O-oh..." I stammered "Well, yes, it was already wet when I left. I just didn't want to wake him up. He drank quite a bit last night and I figured he just spilled his last long island or something." I responded. Rachael pouted "Oh fine, whatever...", clearly disappointed that Jack hadn't peed on the couch. Jack was staring at me still, quizzically, as he knew full well that I wasn't dumb enough to think that was long island iced tea and was clearly covering for him. At length he said "Well, in any case I'm washing the cushion, so it'll be fine. Sorry about the mess." Blushing, I said "Don't worry about it Jack, spills happen..." After breakfast we all went about our days. Jack and I to the gym for awhile, Rachael staying home to do homework. I couldn't stop thinking about how amazing the night before was, but knew I could never do it again, and could never tell a soul what I had done. I felt like a monster for what I had done, and even more so because I wanted more. My cunt was incredibly sore from having been so thoroughly stuffed the night before, but I was ready to feel it again. I was addicted to cock now after being fucked so well, after several years of sexual abstinence. I conceived a plan that day to allow myself to do more, without so much restraint. I called my friend Sharon that afternoon "Mmm... H-Hello?" she answered "Hi, Sharon?" I asked. "Oh! Hi Joni. How are you?" She asked. "Great. Really good." I answered, then asked "Listen, are you busy today?" "Well... I think I can make some time." she said. "Oh my!" she gasped "Mmm... I was just making lunch for Jake and stubbed my toe..." she continued "Great... Listen, do you still have some of those sleeping pills you were telling me about? I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping and didn't even wake up until 10:00 this morning." I explained. "Oh, absolutely Joni. I have tons of those. They really do come in handy... I'll swing by and drop some off." she said. I grinned and responded "Wonderful! Thank you Sharon! I'll see you in awhile?" "Oh no problem at all Joni. I'll drop by in an hour or so, would that be alright?" she suggested. "That would be perfect, thanks again. I'll see you then Sharon, bye now." I said. "Bye bye dear!" she responded, and we hung up the phone. As promised, Sharon dropped off a few of the sleeping pills she had told me so much about. I never intended to take them myself, but rather to drug my kids with supper so that I could indulge in my obsession with carnal sin while they slept. As planned, when supper time came I broke the capsules opened, four in total, and stirred the contents into the spaghetti I had prepared for them. "Kids!" I yelled, "Supper is ready!" Rachael and Jack rushed to the dining room, starving because I had prepared supper so late. "Finally!" Jack said, sitting across from my seat "No kidding. We're starving to death mom!" Rachael exclaimed, not far behind and sitting on the side between Jack and I. I laughed and apologized, then together, we ate supper and conversed about our days. My own bowl was prepared separate from theirs, which wasn't uncommon because I dieted occasionally depending on my regimen. It didn't take long after supper before both of my kids looked exhausted. "You two look whipped!" I said with a motherly smile. "That settles it. I know it's only 9:00, but we're calling it a night early. Go on, off to bed!" "Right..." Jake said tiredly. "See you in the morning mom... Night Rachael" Rachael was even worse for wear, hardly able to keep her eyes open, but responded as well with "Yeah... you... too..." They both got up tiredly and made their way to their beds. To be safe, I would wait until 10:00, but in my lusty head, play time had already begun. ----------------------- I'd gone to my bedroom to change into a silk robe, wearing nothing beneath it. I spent the hour toying with my pussy with my vibrator, and managed one orgasm while thinking about my son, but it was nothing compared to the real thing and the anticipation was building fast. Finally 10:00 came around and I took a deep breath. I tied my robe closed, dropped my vibrator into a pocket, and made my way to my door. I wouldn't have to be so careful tonight. I was SO horny, and my pussy was already soaking wet. As I made my way toward Jack's bedroom, I passed Rachael's, then stopped suddenly, thinking. See, I had already crossed the line into incestuous perversion, and my daughter was an incredibly attractive young woman... I hadn't planned to do anything with her, but knew that the drug had affected her faster and that it would be safer to give Jack more time to slumber. Also, I've always been bi-sexual. My kids had never known this of course, nor had Stephen. He just thought I was down to earth enough to recognize beauty when I saw it, but I occasionally fantasized about eating pussy, and having mine eaten by other women... Just occasionally. I turned and quietly entered Rachael's room, closing the door just as quietly behind me. She lay there in her bed on her side, her white teddy bear tucked into her arms and I smiled. Even at 19 she slept with a teddy... Not that I didn't spoon with pillows most nights, so I wasn't really surprised. She also had a night light near the door, so it wasn't too difficult to see her. I quietly closed the distance between myself and her bed, watching my daughter who slept peacefully with a warm smile. I then reachied down and took the edge of her blanket into my right hand. Slowly I lifted her blanket, peeking beneath to see her legs tucked up. She wore just a T-Shirt and white thong tonight, and it was quite the sight. I felt a burning between my thighs as I took in the gravity of what I planned to do, a bead of warm fluid drizzling down my right leg from my bare pussy. I took a deep breath. Slowly, without shaking the bed too much, I crawled underneath the blanket below her. Sharon had assured me that if I took one of these, the sound of a locomotive and the trembling of an earthquake wouldn't be enough to wake me... My kids had each taken two, so I had nothing to worry about, but I was still nervous as I reached out for her right leg, which lay on top of the left. I gently wrapped my fingers around her slender ankle, slowly pulling it toward me and over to my left side. Eventually the pull caused her to roll onto her back, which I knew it would. I gently brushed my left hand, thumb down, up along the inside of her right leg. Her skin was so smooth beneath my touch except for the goose bumps that formed in its wake. Eventually I reached her soft mound with my thumb, and softly brushed along it, up and down, without applying any real pressure. Dancing on the Edge of a Knife Her breathing was slow and steady, which told me she was sound asleep. My breathing on the other hand was shaky with nervous excitement. I moved my thumb to the left side of her crotch, tucking a long fingernail underneath to gently push the fabric aside in the other direction. With this done I brushed my thumb back again, this time over the softness of her bare pussy. I shuddered with anticipation, pushing against her pussy as my thumb reached her slit and pulling her pussy open a little by the right lip. I started to move the pad of my thumb in small circles between her little cunt lips, and her body started to respond to my touch. As I gently pushed against her opening in small circles, she started to get wet beneath my touch. I continued to do this, widening the circles as she became more slippery. "Hmmmm..." she softly moaned, but unlike the night previous I wasn't afraid to stop. I kept up the little circles until she was nice and wet, then flipped my hand over and started to rub in those same motions with my middle and ring fingers, both pointing downward and quickly becoming becoming coated in my daughters young liquids. With my other hand I worked at my own pussy, matching the exact same motions as I did on her pussy. She just kept softly, tiredly moaning those little "Hmmmm..." sounds. Finally I slipped my slender middle and ring fingers into her tight, wet little opening, and with my other hand did the same thing to my own soaked entrance. "Aahhh..." She moaned quietly, opening her legs a little bit for me in her dreamy, erotic state. Once my fingers were completely buried inside of her, I gently spread them apart, opening her to me a little bit more "Aahhh..." she moaned again. Eventually I pulled my fingers from her, then slipped them back in again with a soft 'squish'. "Mmmmmmmm..." she moaned. I did this once more, then again, until it became a nice rhythm that I maintained with both of my hands. My daughter was breathing a little heavier now as I fingered her, and eventually I climaxed, dripping hot fluids into my busy hand. My daughter had started to tiredly move her hips to my touch, but I was running out of patience and needed something to fill me deeper soon, so I gently slipped my fingers out of her wet little hole, and mine. I slowly leaned down, my blonde hair dangling onto my daughter's legs as I inhaled the fragrant scent of her stimulated sex. Then, moving my right hand underneath her left ass cheek, I brought my mouth down against her waiting crotch, nuzzling the crotch of her panties back aside, as they had moved back into place after I'd removed my fingers. With soft lips I gently kissed my daughter on the vagina, then parted my lips and nuzzled into her, my mouth sinking into her labia as I did. As I pushed into her with my tongue, I reached into my robe pocket with my free hand. taking hold of the vibrator that I'd placed there. "Haaahhhh..." Rachael moaned as I started moving my tongue around inside of her, holding her gently against my mouth by her skinny ass. Originally I'd planned to use the toy on myself, but decided I would, despite my anticipation, wait for my son to supply my own satisfaction. As I continued to tongue fuck my daughter, twirling my tongue in circles around her clitoris, I also brought the tip of the rubber vibrator to rest nestled between her pussy lips. As I licked her, I also made laps around the head of the vibrator, coating it in her juices and my saliva so that I could slowly, but easily push it into her wet little entrance. "Oooohhh Jack..." my daughter moaned in her sleep. Was she having an erotic dream about her brother as I worked on her? Either way, she was totally oblivious to the fact that it was her own mother who was pushing a toy inside of her and eating out her young cunt. She pushed her hips toward me slowly, mechanically, trying to take more into her as she slept. I obliged, slowly pushing the vibrator further inside, flicking her clit more quickly with my tongue. "Mmmmm... Oh yes Jack..." she moaned when I had pushed the oblong, rubber vibrator in as far as I could. I then clicked it on its lowest setting and enjoyed the way it felt vibrating against my tongue from deep inside of her. "Ooooohhh...!" she sighed, bucking her hips now against my mouth as the toy vibrated inside of her. I continued to work at her with my tongue, pulling the vibrator out and pushing it back in nice and deep past her hot fluids. My cunt was dripping excitement onto her bed, juices running down my legs as I worked at my daughter. I clicked the vibrator to the next setting up, continuing my tongue's work and to fuck her with the toy. "OOOoohhh!!" she moaned a bit louder, but still absently and slowly, as if she were in a trance. Finally I turned the vibrator to the highest setting and started to drive it harder into her, pushing my mouth against her cunt where I had access and a little more firmly working my velvety tongue in circles around her clitoris. "... O-Oh my God...!!" she moaned, and then started to spasm below me. She didn't squirt the way that I did when I had orgasms, but I could feel the heat between her legs and how much wetter and hotter she became. She kept convulsing for a few moments even as I turned the vibrator off and pulled it out of her, a string of clear liquid dangling between the toy and her satisfied little pussy. Finally she stopped twitching, and I pulled my mouth from between her cunt lips, sticky tendrils of wetness dangling between a mother's mouth and a daughter's happy cunt. I slowly crawled backward and out from under her blanket, placing my feet to the floor and standing back over her. I smiled warmly down to my satisfied daughter, licking her juices from my lips. My beautiful 19 year old daughter smiled softly, looking to be deep in sleep, and turned back to her side, curling back up and holding her bear closely. ----------------------- Now it was my son's turn... and mine. I could hardly wait. By now it was 11:05 in the evening, and my son would be as deeply asleep as his sister. I placed the toy back in my robe pocket and quietly left Rachael's room, shutting the door softly behind me. "Now I just need to tuck in the other one..." I said to myself, swooning with terrible, incestuous desire. I made my way down the hall to Jack's room, pushing my way in quietly and looking down at him as he slept. I left the hallway door open so that I could see him, and he really was such a handsome young man. He lay there on his back beneath just a sheet, sleeping in the nude based on the outline of his large, flaccid penis. "Convenient..." I said softly, moving to his bed. Tonight I had another experiment I wanted to try on my unconscious son. Last night he had fingered me in his sleep before waking to fuck me raw, and now I wondered if I could get him to participate in other activities. After working my daughter to orgasm with my tongue, I had one in mind... I pulled loose the tie to my robe, shrugging my shoulders down and letting it fall to where it and my vibrator hit the floor with a thud. I did this on purpose to see if Jack would even register the sound, and smiled when he didn't move a muscle or change his breathing in the least. I took a bundle of his sheet in my hand and slowly pulled it off of him, staring down at his naked form hungrily and whispering "Oh my God..." at the size of his cock, even soft... "No wonder..." and I felt a burning hotness between my soaked thighs. I walked to the side of his bed, slowly crawling onto it beside his head. I lifted one leg over him and placed my knee down on the other side of his head, my palms and knees on either side of him now, knees beside his head, palms beside his waist. "Hi baby... mommy is here..." I said softly, looking down past my large dangling breasts toward my son as I did. He made no indication that he had heard me, but I remembered a hypnotist show once where they demonstrated the power of suggestion, and it really seemed to work. I was going to find out. Jack's mouth hung open, and he was breathing deeply beneath my sopping wet pussy, which occasionally dripped hot juices onto his tongue. I smiled, looking forward slowly to his flaccid monster, using my right hand to reach for it and holding myself up with my left. I wrapped my hand around it, giving it a gentle squeeze before lifting it up to point its head at me. I could feel that blood was already beginning to flow into it, so quickly moved forward and sucked it into my warm mouth. I took him into my mouth as far as I could, swallowing semi-soft flesh down into my throat before it got too hard for me to do so. Sucking, and swallowing, I pulled back from him, twirling my tongue around the head of his cock before releasing it from my mouth with a 'pop'. "Mmmmm..." Jack moaned, his cock now erect and standing at attention in front of my face. Again I looked down toward him, repeating myself "Mommy is here baby... Mommy is here..." as I slowly stroked my hand up and down her saliva clad erection. "Mmmmm...mmmom..." he moaned now, to which I gasped softly, tingling with anticipation. "That's right honey... Mommy is here..." I said again, stroking him. "Eat mommy's pussy sweetie..." I said softly, slowly lowering my ass down to him. My soaked thighs slid down along his cheeks as my hot, juicy cunt spread open over his mouth, my tight, bleached asshole just in front of his nose. Again I softly said "Eat your mother's pussy baby, eat mommy... use your tongue baby...", then cocked my head back up and took his hard cock back into my mouth as far as I could, which wasn't a ton considering his size, but enough that I could twirl my velvety tongue around his cock head. "Mmmmmmghm..." he moaned, muffled into my pussy, then slowly, mechanically, my son pushed his tongue into my soaking wet entrance, to which I moaned softly with his cock in my mouth. I pushed my head forward, taking several inches of him into my mouth, the head pushing at the back of my throat, swallowing so that my throat muscles massaged it, and stroking my hand up and down the remaining length of his thick shaft as I did. "Mmmmmgm..." he moaned into my cunt again, starting to lick around inside of me. "Mmmm!" I moaned onto his cock as his tongue started moving around. Then I pulled my head back, his rock hard erection flopping out of my mouth. Laying my head down on his leg beside his cock, my breasts mashing against his stomach, I closed my eyes and moaned softly as my son ate my pussy. "Oooh yes... That's it son, eat your mother baby..." I moaned His tongue started to move around a little bit faster, but not as quickly as it would were he eating me consciously. Still... My son was eating my pussy! I noticed that the movement of his tongue was mostly isolated, so I would need to position myself for where I wanted him licking. "Thaaat's it baby... Keep up the good work... Eat your mother..." I said in a nourishing tone, then pushed my hips back just slightly, positioning my clitoris right around where his tongue moved. "Mmmghm..." he moaned again, lapping at my clit. I closed my eyes, giving in completely to the feeling while slowly moving a slender hand up and down along his thick shaft. "Ooooh yeah baby... Ooh yes... Yes yes yes yes yes...!" I softly moaned, grinding my drenched cunt onto my son's face as I did. He kept licking, and I kept grinding, a little more desperately as I moved closer to a climax. His tongue just kept flicking at my most sensitive spot. Finally I squeezed my thighs against his head, pushing my sopping mess of a cunt down onto my son's face as if trying to take his head into me and crying out "... YES!", then shuddering above him, my pussy convulsing on his face and ejaculating warm fluids into his mouth and down over his cheeks. I lay there convulsing for a few more seconds, my head on his leg, one hand just holding his cock now while his tongue just continued to probe and lap inside of me tiredly. When it stopped, I smiled victoriously, then slowly lifted myself up onto all fours. I looked down to him past my boobs again, strings of hot, sticky liquid dangling between my satisfied cunt and my son's face even with a foot or so of distance between them. "Mmmom..." he moaned again, licking at his lips mechanically. "That's right honey... Mommy is here." I said softly, admiring his face and neck totally covered in my hot juices. "Mmmom..." he moaned again. Smiling warmly, I used my hands to pull myself forward, sliding my knees along the bed at his sides and then sitting down on his hips and his laying cock, my ass still facing him. His cock lay against his body, the shaft nestled between my ass crack and pussy lips, which leaked warm fluids onto it. I then looked over my shoulder to him. As I'd moved down his body, the tendrils of liquid that were dangling between his face and my thighs now lay in strips across his body, glistening in the hallway light. "That's it son... You want to have sex with mommy..." I said suggestively. "Mmom..." he moaned in response, his giant cock twitching beneath me. "That's right baby... mom is here..." I said, leaning back and placing my right hand flat on his chest, my back arched, my other hand resting on the bed at his side. I started to move my hips so that my soaked pussy glided up and down along his long, thick shaft, quickly lubricating his whole cock in my hot juices. With my eyes closed, I kept doing this said again "Mommy is here...", enjoying his warm shaft moving against my clitoris. "Mmm... Mom..." he moaned in his sleep as I grinded my pussy up and down along his shaft. "Okay baby..." I said warmly, stopping my motion "Time to fuck mommy honey... time to fuck your horny mother..." I said huskily, my voice trembling with excitement. I lifted myself up off of him, having lubricated his cock so thoroughly that strings of my juices dangled between it and my thighs. I was sitting up higher now, holding myself up with my right hand on his chest, back mostly facing him and slightly arched, knees at his sides, feet resting tops down by his shoulders, my wet entrance suspended a full foot above him. I reached down and grasped his humungous cock with my left hand, looking down at his wet, peacefully sleeping face over my right shoulder. I moved his cock to point it at my waiting entrance, but it was large enough that its head nestled into the fleshy folds of my labia even with as high above him as I was, to which I moaned "Oooh God...", somehow knowing and doubting at the same time that I could take it all into me. I took a deep breath, then very slowly lowered myself onto it just by a couple of inches, groaning out loud as I did, not needing to hold back my cries of ecstasy. With my voice trembling... "T-time to fuck mommy... time to fuck your mother..." with my eyes closed "Mm...Mom... Yes..." he moaned monotonously, seeming deep in a dream about the very thing that was happening in real life. I straightened my back now, lifting my hand off of him and facing forward toward the hallway. I moved a knee forward, then the other, enough to lower myself down onto his monster cock a couple more inches, crying out again as its thickness once again stretched open my desperate, soaked cunt hole. "OOH God! Mommy's big boy...!" I moaned. "Nnnngh... Mom...!" Jack mumbled, but not making any movements. He just lay there with his arms sprawled as his mother struggled to descend onto his giant erection. Now I bent forward, catching myself on the bed between his legs with my hands, head hanging down, long blonde hair dangling down to the bed. I spread my knees apart slightly, taking more of him into me. "Oh GOD..." I moaned, having taken a full nine inches of my son's thick meat into me. Again I held myself here, adjusting to the fullness, knowing that I had a few inches to go, but that the head of his cock was about to hit my cervix. My dripping, hot fluids ran down along the remaining shaft of his mostly buried cock, continuously coating him in his mother's natural lubricant. I breathed in through my nose, then out, shakily, through my mouth... like they taught me to do when I was in labor with him. In through my nose, out through my mouth. "Okay... Okay sweetheart... Time to fuck your mother..." I said again, closing my eyes tight and releasing my muscles, allowing myself to easily and quickly glide down onto the last three inches or so of his monument of a cock "AAAHH GOD!" I cried out painfully as I bottomed out, the head of his cock slammed against the back of my cunt, pushing my cervix up inside of me to make room for the entirety of his enormous member. "YES!" I cried triumphantly, proud to have forced my son's unusually large erection to fit all the way inside of me. I just sat there for a minute, trying to adjust, afraid to move, and feeling a little bit sick to my stomach on account of how far I'd forced myself down onto my son's cock. "... Alright baby... just stay still honey..." I said, my voice shaking. "Mmm..." Jack moaned softly, not making any movements. I clenched my vaginal muscles around his cock, then released... clenched, then released... adjusting, adjusting... "Alright..." I said at last... the nausea passing into pleasure. I sat up, tossing my hair back and facing the hallway again, away from Jack, and just sat there like that for a few more moments, cock buried deep, deep inside of me. "Time to fuck your mother Jack..." I breathed, ready, but nervous. With that, I slowly lifted my ass up, inch by inch of my son's thick cock sliding out of my stretched wide cunt hole, then dropped down again with a grunt, totally full again "AH!"... I rolled my eyes back and repeated the same motion, ascending several inches, then dropping back down "AAH!". It was getting easier now, feeling like complete ecstasy instead of painful. Again, I lifted, then dropped "YES!". Again "FUCK!", Again "MOMMY!", convulsing with a trembling orgasm with the last word. I sat there for awhile spasming, letting the orgasm run its course, then I moaned aloud as I continued to ride my son's supernaturally sized erection reverse cowgirl. "Mmm... Moommm...!" Jack groaned in his sleep, fantasizing about fucking his mother while actually being fucked by his mother. "That's right son!" I moaned, starting to get into a nice rhythm with my hips, taking the massive staff into my hungry, once tight, but now wide-stretched cunt again and again. "Mommy is here!" I moaned, fucking my son with more vigor. "Mmm...!" he moaned again, bucking his hips at me almost lazily, probably unable to match my rhythm in his sleep state. I fell forward again, catching myself on my hands between his legs. Greedily, I impaled myself on my own son's erection over and over, bottoming out each time, my wide-stretched pussy lips mashing against him at the base of his cock repeatedly. "That's it baby!" I cried, completely cock-crazed, moving much more quickly than before, slamming down onto his cock forcefully, my large breasts bouncing wildly with each thrust. "Fuck me!" SLAM, "FUCK ME!" SLAM, "Fuck your MOTHER!" SLAM "GHAAAHH!" I cried, another shocking orgasm jolting through my body. I barely held myself up this time as pleasure overtook me, hair dangling down to the bed again, drool dripping from my mouth "Uuuhuuhhhuuuhhh..." was the only sound I could utter as I convulsed. I pressed myself down hard onto his throbbing erection as this new life experience consumed every nerve, my cum gushing out at the best of his cock as if there wasn't any room left inside of me, coating his stomach and balls in my sloppy climax. This went on for almost two full minutes before I finally started to gain control of my muscles again, and when I did I turned to look at my son, who's head lay facing up on his pillow, appearing fast asleep and mumbling "Momm... Mom...Mmm...om..." again and again. Dancing on the Edge of Night "Susan. Better get ready, Helen's finishing up." I sighed. "I'll talk to you later, Chloe," I told the girl I had been chatting with and went over to the backstage fridge freezer. I grabbed a pair of ice cubes and held them on my bare nipples until the latter were hard and the former had begun to soften. Then I picked the most melted cube, tugged my thong to the right of my shaved pussy and quickly dashed the ice cube across my slit. Some of the girls get aroused just by performing, but that exhibitionism has never worked for me. I checked myself in one of the dressing room mirrors – thick smear of red on my lips, making them seem bigger than they are; dark make-up around my eyes for that exotic look. My large, coppery nipples prickled. My thing was "Elrissa – Mistress of the Night". What it meant was smudgy make-up and black leather lingerie. I grabbed my bra off the radiator, hauled on the straps and settled my breasts into the cups. "Gimme a hand, Chloe?" Chloe was new. "I'm not that kind of girl, Suze." "Oh well," I joked. "You can tongue my cunt later. Just tie my bra." She did and I slipped on the gauzy night-gown – also black – that was the last part of my costume. Helen came in to put on a thong before going out to work the floor. "Big crowd tonight. Plus a few businessmen." Businessmen meant a lot of money for us. Helen headed out just as I heard the manager, who doubled as announcer. Speaking like a boxing promoter. "She's here! Immortally beautiful and immortally insatiable. She'll take your soul with her hot little hole. It's...Mistress Elrissa, Queen of the Night!" The promotion surprised me. When the first chords of Sympathy for the Devil started I strode through the curtain. Initially my act had me wearing high-heeled black leather boots. But they so got in the way that now I just worked bare-foot like the other girls. It was for the best anyway, that podium was near frictionless so our skin didn't get rubbed raw. I pranced about for a while, holding the pole at arm's length and circling, shimmying my hips at the ring of customer's around me and looking to see what business would be like for our "extra" services. At this distance from the spotlight I could see them clearly, and I was able to discern a fair number of small, and not so small, bulges. In my slow spin I trod on a small sticky patch. Usually security's pretty good, but sometimes some horny prick that can't wait yanks it out and hoses the runway. I pulled myself towards the pole, spiralling into in, then rapped my arms and legs around it, pulling it between my breasts, seemingly tit-fucking the biggest cock in the world. I was in the centre of the spotlight now; the crowd invisible to me I seemed almost to be dancing for myself. Again I spun to give everyone a view, stopping with my back to the curtain, so that I was visible, though better to some than others, to the whole horseshoe of seats surrounding the stage. I threw my head back and moaned loudly – whether they could hear it over the music or not, they undoubtedly saw it. Then I moved my head back to the pole, first kissing it swiftly, then wrapping my tongue around it. Finally, I gave it a few long strokes, like a cat slurping cream. All this had taken about a minute. I didn't work in one of those high-class clubs where the dancing has to be good. This sort of town wouldn't support it. Our dances had two points, letting the customer's see the goods and getting them so horny that money became meaningless to them. Or as our manager – and dance coach – put it in induction – "let 'em see your cunt and make 'em happy to pay to fuck it". In fact, we mainly did oral. Now was the main part of my act. Holding the pole with my legs, I let go my arms and leaned back, shimmying out of the transparent night-gown. As it slipped down my left shoulder, I readied myself and, as it dropped, slowly fluttering in the air, I caught it, rubbed it over my tits and tossed it to my left. I was down low now, so I stopped holding with my legs and, sitting, turned so my back pressed against the pole. Again I gave a moan – which our manager called "Susan's night howl" – and undid my bra. This was the only leather bit of my costume, and the only bit that we weren't willing to replace each night. I always threw it to an employee in the crowd, who'd make a big deal of sniffing it and generally acting like I smelled of pure sex, before he took it back stage to have it washed. He couldn't always get it, but he did often enough. I let the bra hang on my breasts, held only by my cold-hardened nipples. I teased for a while before letting it fall and throwing it to Charlie. My breasts weren't all that big. They were a fair bit larger than average, full and round, heavy but at 26 still happily swaying in gravity's face. To be accurate, they were the biggest natural tits at our club, but while mine were a size or two below double D, a few of the girls went a bit size-crazy when the manager – who also doubled as, in his words, "hands-on pussy tester extraordinaire" – said they'd need implants, and went into the far ends of the alphabet. Now was an important part of my act. I stroked and pinched my breasts, fingered my artificially hardened nipples and acted like I was in heat. Club policy was that we had to look aroused as we danced. How we did this was up to us, and there were three categories. At least half, like me, faked it with the ice-cubes. A slightly smaller number just got off on performing. This did make for a better performance for those few who could hold of arousal until they were dancing – there's no way to fake nipples hardening and a pussy getting dripping wet as you dance. In the first two categories, dancers tend to last a while. The third is different. These are the girls, some wannabe nymphos, others just young and stupid and, sometimes, stupidly rebellious, who think it's all some baroque sex party. They finger themselves before they go on stage, rubbing their little college-girl clits to orgasm then performing. If you have more than one of these dilettantes, they'll sometimes lick each other out, flick each other off, or 69 before dancing. I'm a working girl – I don't want to see two young girls ineptly sucking pussy on my dressing table. These girls don't last long. Usually once they've serviced a few customers and realised that mostly they won't get off and that there is no – zero, zilch – glamour involved, they quit. I think Chloe hovers between the second and the third of these categories. She's definitely an exhibitionist, but I've seen her masturbate before she goes on and she doesn't seem to treat it quite as just a job. The last stage of my act now, and I lie on my back, hips thrust into the air, hands squeezing my breasts. Then I slide one hand down, let it dally inside my thong for a moment, wiggling my fingers as if I'm pleasuring myself. Then I hook the fingers around the waistband and tear the thong off. They're designed to rip easily, and before we go on some of us, those who don't get aroused, spray them with a musky perfume, so that... "I can smell your cunt!" The guy who caught them shouts. They may not keep the gown, but I bet they all keep that thong, hiding it from the wives who won't do what they pay me to do and wrapping it round their cocks as they jerk off. Once a guy paid me to stand naked and watch as he did just that. He was in his late fifties, his cock small and wrinkled and for a while I though he was having trouble getting it up. Until he came, polka-dotting my black panties with pearly come. For a moment I lie still, my pussy glistening wetly in the spotlight. Then my index finger touching, rubbing the long slit between my legs. No way to fake that. I stand, press my back against the pole and let my whole hand go to work. I don't properly masturbate, and I hardly ever come. Except once. I'm a bisexual. I always – again, except once – keep work and life separate. And then Angie came to the club. She had long, red hair and a finely chiselled, classical face. Like me, she was unaltered by surgery; as anyone who has touched a pair of fake breasts will tell you, they feel more like large, warm bags than breasts. Which makes it all the funnier that so many guys splatter pictures of Pamela Anderson with their come. Angie's breasts were smaller than mine, shapelier, with the tiniest rose nipples. She was tall and slender and, even with her mouth tasting of some anonymous man's seed, walked like a goddess. Perhaps only a goddess could do that. Angie and I became lovers. After work each night we'd go home, either to her flat or mine, brush our teeth, then step into the shower together, first washing off the sour smell of drink and smoke and then a subtler, less tangible air. We'd soap each other's breasts, touching slowly, as our customers never do, then our fingers would move down each other's bodies. Carefully, easily, dallying over flat stomachs, slyly tickling belly buttons, occasionally caressing and even probing buttocks, before reaching that sacred fountain. We'd fuck each other simultaneously, fingers stroking the lips of the other's pussy, penetrating deep, caressing – eventually, after agonising waiting, the clitoris. And we did wait, always coming in perfect synchronicity: "I'm nearly coming Susan. Are you there?" "Not quite." And I'd lessen my work on her cunt as she increased hers on mine. Finally, both of us moaning, fingers darting in and out of our pussies, we'd kiss, my tongue entering her mouth and meeting hers as our orgasms shattered through us. Then we'd sleep, spending, if we could, the morning and afternoon before work exploring our bodies with our tongues. One night Angie was sitting with a customer as I danced. He was watching me and squeezing her tits. (Angie told me after, laughing: "He couldn't believe how wet you were all the way through". "Ice, ice, baby.") And Angie was watching me. Our eyes met and, in that crowded room, dancing just for her, I knelt at the front of the podium. My eyes never left hers as I masturbated to a gasping orgasm. Our manager, and critic, said it was a great show, but I needed to work the whole crowd. Angie's left now, gone to work at a slightly more prestigious establishment than this one, which is about the level "Rat Hole". The difference between her and me, why she's not stuck here like I am, isn't in our looks – if anything I'm slightly more outright God-I've-got-to-fuck-that than her. But she can dance. I do my best, but I've basically got one clumsy routine. The first time I saw Angie dance I knew she wouldn't stay here long. I'm finishing my dance now – moaning more and more. My hand swirls over my pussy like a fortune-teller's over a crystal ball. It gives the impression that I'm desperately fucking myself, but in reality I'm barely touching my pussy, mainly circling the general region. It means my cunt isn't just sitting on display and adds some artifice to the performance. Finally, I arch my back, give a few desperate moans, then fall back, lying with one leg bent vertically, the other straight out and one hand on my left breast, one resting on my pussy. On cue the spotlight dies and I quickly jump out of my feigned state of orgasmic exhaustion and head back stage. The manager/announcer: "And Mistress Elrissa will be serving...drinks in a few moments." He goes on to announce the horny schoolgirl: Chloe in a costume that Britney Spears could probably sue as libellous. I walk back, slap Chloe on the ass for good luck and grab another thong. These are the good ones that we wear and wash and wear again, not the cheap ripping kind in which we perform. When "serving" we only wear a thong, sometimes shoes, never a bra – it keeps the customers going. I head out. I actually do serve drinks for a while. It's a sop to the police, who pretty much know what goes on here, and it gives us time to judge which customer to work with. Our ideal is the rich businessman from out of town. He's horny – away from the wife and aroused on pure possibility – won't usually last long, and normally just wants a blowjob so he won't have to go to the effort of accommodating a girl on his lap or wiggling his fat-smothered hips. They usually also tip pretty well. We have to give half the money we charge to the manager, but tips are all ours. The worst are the young, drunker bachelor-party types. They don't last long either, but they usually want to fuck and never, ever tip. Tonight was businessman heavy, and I soon picked one. He waved a twenty at me and I swayed slowly over. I sat on his knee for a moment, keeping my breasts level with his piggy eyes. He's bald, just a thin ring of hair surrounding the sweat reserve shimmering on his pate. I let my hand stroke his cock through the suit. It's hard and he gasps. "How does this work?" I crane my neck so I'm talking into his ear, deliberately breathy. "Well, I can give you a handjob right here for ten or a twenty gets you a lapdance. Or we can go to the backrooms. There, for twenty, I'll blow you – and your mind. Or for fifty, I'll fuck you. For that I should ask for medical records, but you look..." I pat his cock, "strong to me." My patter is pretty much memorised – the only thing I vary is that, if the guy seems unused to this, I just say we can go to the backroom, and then price my other services there. Perhaps only the lapdance needs explanation. Like the handjob, no one else really sees anything, so it's not a sex show, which really would get us busted. I sit on the guy's lap, grinding either my ass or my pussy – usually both – against his cock until he comes. It's rough but slow and so not as profitable as the blowjob or sex. While it's nicer for us girls not to have to suck or fuck, a lapdance takes a good few minutes, whereas the other stuff usually only takes moments. We all do other things as well. Tit-fucking, water-sports – though we never let them piss on us – domination, never submission which can leave marks, pretty much anything, though most girls won't do the water-sports. We don't announce these though – if the guy wants it, he'll ask for it. The one thing we won't do is anal – it's too much effort, some of the girl's simply can't do it, and it often hurts. My guy decided on a backroom blowjob, so I led him through. It's really just an annex behind the club with a few rooms just large enough for a bed. I pulled down his trousers and underwear and said, "My, what a big boy we are". I always say something like this, just as I always fake a climax when someone asks for sex – it gets you tips. This time I was lying more than usual, which is sometimes risky. If the guy knows you're bullshitting him he can get angry. This guy didn't, just beamed proudly about his three skinny inches and sagging grey testicles. There's no derision implied here – my job is to get this guy off and it's much easier coping with a small penis than some monster cock, which only the nymphos want or expect. Even in my private life big doesn't always mean better. I sat him on the bed and knelt in front of him. I slurped at the head of his penis then took it all inside my mouth, tightening my lips around it then bobbing up and down. It took him about thirty seconds to come, a watery salt stream slicking my mouth. He gave me thirty and told me to keep the change. Not a bad guy, after all. Some people, and some dancers, make fun of the guys we service. But it is a service we provide, and if you can go to a restaurant to satisfy one appetite, why is there some stigma in coming to me about another? Perhaps I believe that. I showed him out of the backroom then headed through the side door to the dressing room. While putting my money away I gargled, then reapplied my lipstick. I checked my appearance, wiped off a small trickle of semen from my right breast and went back out. My next customer was another businessman like the first, though with less hair and less fat. He too wanted the backroom. "I want to fuck you while you're handcuffed to the bed." We do have handcuffs, but only use them on customers, for reasons as obvious as they are sensible. I told the guy I couldn't do what he wanted. "I'll pay you double." I said no again and he started to look angry. Next to the bed is a small button that most people think is a light switch. It actually summons two huge black guys who will take the guy outside, and there put his lights out. Most of our customers are white, and for many of them the fact these guys are black is enough to convince them that they are brutal, mindless thugs. In fact Roderick and Ethan are students, the first studying mathematics, the second philosophy and, when they're not putting on a gangster front for the customers they're fun to chat with on books, movies, anything. He calmed down and settled on just a blowjob so I didn't press the button. I serviced him quickly and without frills. When he was finished he grabbed a twenty from his wallet, threw it at me and thumped off. Again I cleaned up and went back to work. After the fourth of fifth client of the evening, I found Chloe in the dressing room. Her face was pale and she was hunched in a corner, all her weight resting on one hip. "What's the matter?" I asked, sounding brusquer than I meant. How these girls crumble with their delusions. "It's nothing...there was this cop." That was strange, the vice cop who managed this area hadn't been in tonight - and I'm his favourite anyway. Plus all he ever wanted was a blowjob and the occasional quick fuck, which Chloe was used to by now. So why was she this upset? "_______," I asked. "No a new guy." Oh fuck, I thought. "He said if I didn't do exactly what he said he'd shut us down. Then he..." She lost control of her face for a moment and some tears slipped out. "He handcuffed me to the bed and fucked me up the ass." When she mentioned handcuffs I knew what had happened. Mea Culpa. I should have pressed that fucking button. She cried again, and I hugged her. "I can't even fucking sit down." "Chloe," I said, "I know this is hard to hear, but that guy wasn't a cop." She looked worse now, as if I had raped her too. "He didn't have handcuffs, right? Had to use yours?" She nodded, believing me and hating me. "You always, always have to ask to see a badge, and call for Roderick and Ethan. _______ is the only cop we deal with." Sadly this did sometimes happen. Our manager – and counsellor - did his best to take good care of us, but sometimes inexperience wins out. All I could offer Chloe was practical advice – in this situation anything else would be hurtful hypocrisy. Not even a woman can understand what being raped is like. Chloe would probably quit now, maybe try one more night and find she was too scared to go to the backroom. She's better getting out of it, that's what I wished I could tell her. Better not living alone when the latest of your few and far between boy-or-girlfriends decides they can't take what you do anymore. Better not realising that after eight-years of low-rent stripping no one legitimate wants to hire you. Better not to wake up in the night, worried that today is when your pussy will become flaccid, your breasts will begin to sag and your "career" follows them down and down. Until finally you're forty looking seventy and sucking off guys in shadowed alleys behind bars for the price of a drink inside, hoping they'll still pay when they see you under the lights. Better she finds that out for herself. I called the manager – and caregiver – and went back out to work. * * * * * Author's Note: Thanks to all those who wrote to ask me to write more. Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, let me know. And if you really enjoyed it, send it to a friend or read it to your lover.