4 comments/ 108736 views/ 37 favorites A Skinny Mom with Big Holes By: betternowthanlater All characters are at least 18 years old. * I can still remember with total clarity the moment when idle fantasy tripped over into an iron resolve to seduce my son's girlfriend, Robin. I had just taken a shower, after having worked for an hour in the garden. I was tired, but energized, as always happened after I spent time tending the earth. So I lay down on the bed and soon slipped into a light sleep. Drifting, drifting in the quiet Sunday afternoon....and I then I realized that it wasn't all that quiet. I could hear, distantly, a rhythmic grunting sound. "Uh, uh, uh...." What was that? I concentrated in on it, and soon realized that I must be hearing Paul, my twenty-year old son, and Robin, two rooms away, having sex. I'd had Paul when I was just 17 years old. The end result of a mistake (his father, that is), but one I never regretted. Sam, his father was long gone, but that was OK with me. I'd had no trouble raising Paul by myself and prided myself on the excellent human that he was. I always told him that I would do anything for him, and I think having that foundation of support made a big difference for him. He was an extra-large guy, 6 feet 4 inches tall, broad, muscled shoulders, thick head of black hair, long, strong legs. Played all sorts of sports and did just fine in school, too. For now, (he was going to the local community college, still living at home while he saved money. He and Robin had been seeing each other for about a year, and they seemed to get along great. She was, however, two years younger than him, and sometimes it seemed like he dominated her, insisted on his way. One time I caught him being downright aggressive with her, and all she could manage in response was to look at the ground and accept what he told her to do. Well, mothers do need to mind their own business. Or maybe, just maybe, I should have paid more attention. Now, I listened closely to the sounds and decided that it must be Robin, reacting with obvious pleasure to each stroke of her son's, her son's, her son's...cock. Yes, his hard cock. I didn't ever really think about Paul that way before, and it felt weird, very weird. But the sounds made it hard for me to ignore the reality: Paul was (I imagined) sliding a hard cock in and out of Robin. I pictured Robin's gorgeously large and upright breasts shaking with each thrust, her rather thick thighs (matching her breasts to perfection) raised high, her legs encircling Paul's waist, her pouty lips sucking on his tongue. And then I found myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in my bed, a thin sheen of sweat instantly appearing and then cooling on my forehead, on my breasts and on my lower abdomen.... My mind filled with images of Robin, both as I had seen her (once at the beach, her breasts spilled out the sides of her bikini as she gathered in the rays. I was so glad I was wearing sunglasses - I could all but stare at Robin's body and no one was the wiser for it) and as I could only imagine her: naked, sweating, back arching, mouth opening, inflamed and heading straight to an orgasm. Images of Robin.... My lips parted slightly and somehow I could feel Robin's swollen nipple between them. My hands roamed over my breasts, down over my stomach. I was still a skinny girl, and I liked the way I felt. Who needs big tits? But, then again, big tits can be very nice. I thought about Robin standing in front of me, demurely, as I pulled off her shirt. Robin with her head thrown back as I kneeled to take a nipple in my mouth. My fingers drifted further down and with just a few strokes, an powerful orgasm swept through me, leaving me both deeply satisfied and deeply desirous. I decided right then and there that I would make it happen. I would seduce Robin. I would suck her nipples and so much more. * * * Robin hadn't quite moved in over the summer, but she sure spent lots of her days - and nights - at my house. Where Paul was thin, all muscle and tendon and long, slender fingers, Robin was all curves: beautifully round and full breasts that strained the seams of every blouse she wore; too-thin waist spreading out to a perfectly heart-shaped ass, which definitely filled out her jeans or her skit or her bikini bottom. I'd seen her in all these, and was impressed every time. I could see that in the coming years she would struggle to avoid letting her full figure blossom into rolls of unwanted flesh, but right now she was a vision to behold. Oh, and her face: soft again, but with the hint of mischief in her eyes, cheekbones just making their influence known, and those lips! It was easy to imagine them wrapped around Paul's cock, sliding up and down.... I must admit, I don't generally find myself all that attracted to women. But Robin? She made me want to do things to her. Maybe it was because she was so much the opposite of me. I'd grown up with three brothers and tended towards the tomboy side of things. I'd always been skinny, but wiry, long and strong. That's great for playing soccer with my brothers, but it absolutely sucked when I was fifteen and still looking like I was ten. But, finally, finally, finally, at age 16, my breasts grew a little, my hips widened a little, and I started to look like (and feel like) a woman. Now I was 37 and 5 feet 9 inches tall, and I liked to believe I still had the body of a 25-year old: firm but small breasts with big nipples, tight abs, and long legs. When I was a teenager I was desperate for breasts like Robin's: big and round, eye-catching, boy-catching. But now I realized that those breasts also paid a heavy debt to gravity, while mine barely sagged at all. I was an early riser, usually up by 6 AM and puttering around the kitchen or my home office (ah the perks of the software programmer!). Paul, on the other hand, had always loved to sleep in. Getting him up as a teenager for school had been four years of stress and irritation. Robin was kind of in between the two of us. So usually at about 8 AM, Robin would get up, visit the bathroom and then wander into the kitchen. She always wore one of Paul's t-shirts: long enough to reach just pass the curve of her ass into her legs, big enough around so that the fabric hung straight down off those young-pert breasts. She'd fill a glass of water, sit at the kitchen table, rub her eyes, stare vacantly into the backyard, and after a while, drift back to Paul's bedroom. Paul would appear perhaps an hour later and head for the bathroom for a long pee. I wanted to need to go to the bathroom to relieve myself after pressing my wet cunt against Robin's mouth and feeling her tongue slide in and out of me. This was the sort of the thing I found myself thinking about in those days. After my vision of seduction and corruption, I tortured myself each day, watching Robin as closely as I could without her noticing, then later building elaborate fantasies, stroking myself to fantastic orgasms, and then waking up the next day, promising to myself that this would be the day I would do something about this insane obsession. Then one Saturday morning, I woke up with same, firm resolve in my mind: this would be the day. But somehow, I felt different. I no longer felt satisfied by the fantasy. I wanted the real thing. And just thinking that got me wet. And really, really nervous at the same time. "Screw that," I said to myself. I was going to banish that nervousness. So I climbed out of bed and grabbed my pipe. I then smoked just a tiny bit of hash and lay back in bed, feeling the world grow more wondrous, watching Robin (in my head) become more and more alluring, and, most important of all, felt my inhibitions flow away like water soaking into the earth around my plants. It was time! I headed out to the kitchen and put away the clean dishes in the dishwasher. Just passing the time. But when Robin appeared and sat down at the kitchen table with her glass of water, I stepped up behind her and gently placed my hands on her shoulders and massaged. Robin was startled. I'd never done this before. She glanced back at me, her eyes wide and questioning. I smiled and rubbed some more. She gave me a tentative smile back and what felt like a little shrug, and then surrendered to the massage. After a few moments her head fell forward and she let out the smallest moan. Good. She liked this. I liked it, too. But it was hard. I refused to let my hands drift down her back and certainly not down the front. I didn't even try to learn forward and peer down her nightgown to see if I could catch a glimpse of her breasts. Pitiful, right? I know what breasts looked like. But I needed, for some reason, to see hers. To touch hers. Whoa, girl, calm way down. So I just gently rubbed her shoulders and then up both sides of her neck for a few moments more, then pulled away. It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done (OK, so I haven't faced lots of obstacles in my life!). Robin sighed, said "Thanks, that was really nice...." and went back to Paul's room. Oh, goody! That was nice! I went back to my bedroom, and collapsed on the bed, simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. Then my hand made its way down my body, slid inside my robe, and let me know just how amazing I would feel if I could convince Robin to let me slide my fingers inside of her. * * * Well, it didn't take long for me to establish the morning neck rub as a new tradition, a little "thing" between us girls. In no time at all, Robin followed a new routine: she got her glass of water, then she'd sit at the table and immediately rest her head on her arms on the table. Fully expecting me to come over and apply myself to her pleasure. Which I always did. with pleasure. And it was easy and oh so natural for me to start with her neck, but then cruise over her shoulders and even down her back some. Smooth skin exposed around her neck, lovely lines tapering down from her shoulder to her waist. I rubbed gently, drew my fingers softly across her back, while my mind was in torment, urging my fingers to do so much more. And then one day I did. As she learned forward and I rubbed down her back, both hands moved to the sides of her back, up and down, and then fingers extended, curving towards her front, I brushed against the sides of her breasts. I held my breath. Would she be offended? Would she get up and leave? Nope. She sighed, a long, slow sigh - and I didn't even know if it was related to my touch or general relaxation. That's OK. Good enough for now. Of course, "now" is always changing. And day by day, my massages moved further down her back and more confidently around her sides. I gave her lower back, especially right where it spread into her hip, slots of attention. I loved to trace that curve a cupped hand, And it soon became routine that I would stroke the sides of her breasts. Oh, how my fingers ached to curve forward and circle her nipples! Then the day came when it was time to up my game. Robin sat at the table, I rubbed for a few minutes. Then I said: "I like giving you these morning rubs, but it's hard on my back to lean over. Why don't you lie down on my bed? It'll be more comfortable for both of us." "OK," she said in a muffled voice, and raised her head. She gave me a little smile and off we went. As she lay down on the bed, the t-shirt pulled up a bit exposing her undies. She grabbed the bottom of the shirt and wiggled around as she pulled it back down to cover herself. I watched her ass move, I watched her long, solid legs adjust themselves on the bed, and I swear I almost came right then and there. But I was good. I was patient. I was not going to screw this up. I pushed down the rising tide of lust that threatened to engulf me and sat on the edge of the bed, next to Robin. I started with her neck and moved steadily down her back. I furiously fought with myself over how far down I should go. It was OK to massage her all the way down to the rise of her ass, I knew this from past experience. But I could go beyond that? And what could I do when I reached the end of the t-shirt? I fought the law, and the law won: I kept my hand in safe territory and simply reveled at the sight of this beautiful woman lying in my bed and sighing with pleasure at my touch. If only I'd been satisfied with that. Not a chance. The next morning, Robin drank a few gulps from her glass and headed over to my bedroom, without being invited, and with me grinning widely as I followed her in. She lay down on the bed, and her t-shirt slide high enough to reveal that she wore dark purple panties. I thought they were really sexy and was delighted when Robin didn't bother pulling the t-shirt back down over her ass. I counted that as substantial progress, and a real opportunity. So after a nice long neck rub, I moved down her back, kneading muscle around her spine, and then, do it, Susan, do it....I slid my hand under her shirt - and moved my hand gently over her skin. My hand on her skin - nothing in between! What a wonderful feeling! So soft and warm....my fingers tingled as if they were receiving small electrical shocks. I ran my hand all over her back, and then casually reached around her side and - yes! Ran my fingers over the swell of her breast pushed out from lying on her stomach. I touched Robin's breast, finger to skin, nothing in between. And she made no objection, just kept on sighing occasionally to signal that she was enjoying the rub. No news in this case was very good news. That night, I relived the moment. A fingertip brushes the side of a breast....followed the curve down to wear her breast met her chest. That was more than enough to bring me almost instantly to a shattering orgasm. It was an orgasm fueled by the excitement of potential. Oh, baby, I was on a roll! Soon, I was now certain and certainly justified to believe, there would be a nipple between my fingers, then between my lips, and then my lips down between her legs.... Sooner, in turns, than I really expected. It seems like that touch was significant to Robin, too. The very next morning, she drank a bit from her glass, headed to my bedroom and ever so smoothly pulled off her t-shirt and lay down on the bed. She did it with her back turned to me, so I couldn't revel in the full joy of her, but I gazed down on that goddess-like body, which now wore nothing but a black thong. A thong! I followed the smooth, straight lines of her back interrupted by the swell of her breasts, pressed out on each side, and said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever was looking out for me and all the other basically good, but incredibly horny middle-aged women. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I climbed right on top of her, straddling her ass, and got to work. Long hard strokes, up and down her back, shoulder squeezes, then down her arms, back up and then down along the sides, slowing as my fingers extended over the parts of her breasts that were exposed. And then, ah so sweet, she arched her back, lifting herself away from the bed every so slightly, and my hands naturally - what could be more natural? - found themselves surrounding her breasts, the full globes. I gently caressed them and gradually worked my way to the nipples. Oh yes, they were hard. Small and hard, like pencil erases. I rubbed them and Robin sucked in her breath. But she didn't pull away. So I rubbed and squeezed and pulled. Robin moaned and shuddered. Then I lowered my head and began to kiss her back softly, just brushes of my lips against her hot skin. Robin arched her back some more. Her breasts now hung heavily in my hands. I wanted desperately to take the nipples in my mouth - and then I felt her body shifting. I pulled away to give her some freedom of movement, and she turned on her back, eyes closed, lips parted. I stared down at her, trembling, my whole body trembling with desire and anticipation. I knew I would only live this moment once, and wanted to soak up every detail. It was one thing to feel those breasts in my hands, to pull at a hard nipple. It was quite another to be offered them in such a way. They were such lovely shapes, and going up and down so quickly - Robin was panting. I took that for an invitation and, bending over, finally fulfilled my original vision: my lips closed around her left nipple, my tongue licked it, swirled around it. Robin shook, moaned, ran her fingers though my hair. I moved to the right nipple, sucked harder, pulled it into my mouth, and then Robin was grunting "oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooooh" and her body sagged into the bed. I realized that I had just for the first time given my son's girlfriend an orgasm. That's how I thought of it: the first time. There were sure to be many more. I slowly let the nipple escape from my mouth. Then I licked it and Robin gasped. Which brought my attention to her face. Her eyes were open, her lips curved upwards in a quiet smile of contentment. Contentment? It was too soon for that. I brought my lips against hers. Her eyes went wide, but her tongue revealed no reluctance. As we kissed, my hands roamed her body and headed south to the tropical zone, where it was hot and moist. My hands slide under her panties and then - She broke the kiss. "Gotta go," she murmured, and pulled away from under me, put on her t-shirt and hurried from the room. A moment later I could hear sounds from Paul's room. He was getting up. Smart girl. There was always tomorrow. No reason to wreck the whole deal by getting lost in the moment. * * * And that was true. Tomorrow was better. And the day after that, better yet. Each day Robin gave over more of her body to me and I made the most of every opportunity. It was really nice; in fact, it was way more than nice. It was a total addiction. I was addicted. There was no other way to describe my frame of mind. I found myself going to sleep earlier at night, to get to the morning faster, but then I would wake up earlier and wonder what I would do for the next two hours until Robin appeared. Fortunately, Robin also seemed to be appreciating the attention, and started to get up around 7 AM, giving us more time to play. And play we did. Well, really, I played. I played Robin. I learned how she liked the lightest little bites on her nipples, and how she loved to have a tongue deep inside her while she was on her hands and knees, rocking back and forth. She also seemed to enjoy licking my fingers after they had been inside of her. I sure liked the sensation of her tongue flicking over my fingers, her lips sucking on my fingertips. Those were the mornings. The evenings, as I lay in bed before sleep, were for me to fantasize about what I would do the next morning with Robin. Yes, I was a great one planning, for but not everything goes according to plan, does it? And so it happened that one morning, I got everything ready, including a brand-new vibrator that I'd gotten in the mail last week. I'd been trying it out. It was very nice. I'd decided that Robin was ready to start playing with toys. She came in and in just a few minutes, my tongue was deep inside her cunt, her pelvis thrusting up to greet me, my lips covering her opening and sucking and swallowing her juices. I reached back with one hand to slide fingers inside my panties, and I stroked myself. An incipient orgasm rumbled inside me, but I didn't want to cum until after Robin. And there was still so much to do. I glanced over at the vibrator. Still, I pulled off my panties and ran my hand all over myself. At the same time, the fingers of my other hand stroked Robin's inner thigh, over and under and up, getting closer every moment to her tight, puckered hole. My tongue flicked down from her vagina to skin above her anus, bring some of her juices along with it. I prepared to press the tip of my middle finger right on that special spot. Here goes nothing! A Skinny Mom with Big Holes But then I heard a noise behind me. * * * My heart thudding, I pulled away from Robin, raised my head and looked back. Oh, god, no! It was Paul, standing there in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of old, worn boxers, taking in the scene. And the scene was one that I had painstakingly created over weeks of patient seduction: Robin entirely naked, legs spread wide and shaking, nipples thick and hard popping out of her swollen mounds. Me with my bare ass sticking up in the air, my glistening cunt totally exposed. I knew it intimately, had pictured it so many times. Now I found myself looking at it through Paul's eyes....and I was horrified. It felt as if the entire world had frozen. Nothing and no one moved in this tableau, no one made a sound. No, wait, one thing did move: there seemed to be something alive in his boxers, something that made the material tent out in front of him, and pulse visibly. Paul had an erection. Then my eyes moved up to his face. He looked really angry. I started to come unfrozen in the strangest way. First, my mind told me: "Why wouldn't he have an erection? He's looking at two very attractive women naked on the bed." Then my mind screamed back: "Yeah, but I'm his mother!" And then everything came unstuck. In a single fluid movement, Paul pulled down his boxers and advanced towards the bed. His erection pointed at the ceiling from within a bushy nest of black hair and it was big. No, it was more than that. It was massive: long and thick. I hadn't seen him naked for years and had no idea he sported the kind of penis that made a woman go weak at the very sight of it. Before I could say anything, do anything, he stepped up behind me, and pressed his cock right up against my wet opening. Then he pushed. You might think that my body would have put up some resistance, given that his erection had to have been at least three inches in diameter (now that I could see it at this piont). And me so skinny. Funny thing about that. Yes, I was thin in most ways, but as Sam used to say: "You're my skinny girl with big holes." My mouth was enormous: thick lips that stretched straight across my face - lots of people told me that my smile was my best feature. I didn't know whether to thank them for that, but I could see what they meant. And that wasn't all; my vagina was also big and it opened wide. I had no idea of this, though I had discovered when masturbating as a teenager that I could easily slide all the fingers of my hand in without any difficulty. I sure never had any trouble accommodating Sam (who was sizable, but nothing like his son) or anyone other man I let fuck me. Hell, sometimes it seemed like Sam would get lost inside me; he'd squeeze my legs together to increase the friction as we fucked. So when Paul pushed his monster at me, my already-stimulated cunt opened up like a blossoming flower and let a few inches of him right in. He grunted. I think he was surprised. But that didn't mean I wanted him there. His cock was so hot and hard, it felt like an iron poker that had just been removed from the fire and dipped into a pool of water. It seared me from the inside out. I panicked and shrieked: "No, god, no! Get it out, get it out, Paul, you can't do this. Don't do this! Stop!" He ignored me. He continued to push his way in, filling me up with the thickest cock that had ever been inside me. I tried to pull away, disengage, roll to the side, escape in any way I could. But Paul put his hands on my waist and pulled me tight against him. I screamed as that cock pushed in even deeper. This couldn't be happening. This was my son, my Paul. Why would he do this? I realized that I would have to suspend my sense of horror and outrage for now, and focus on figuring out how to get out of the awful situation. There was only direction I could go: down. I threw my knees back to collapse away from him. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a bad idea, since he just followed me down and then I was lying flat against Robin, could feel her breasts mashing into mine, my head pushed into the pillow next to hear head, and that cock, my son's cock relentlessly pursuing some deep and previously unexplored part of me. "Oh god," I groaned, directly into Robin's ear, "Paul, stop this, take it out...." "Take it out?" Paul replied, sounding very far away. He laughed roughly, then reached along the inside of my legs and spread them apart. "You are telling me, to get out?" he growled, and slid his cock even further into me. How much more could there be? I groaned and ground my pubes against Robin, the only way I could escape that insane erection even the slightest bit. She pressed right back. "You make demands of me, when I come in here and find you sticking your tongue into my girlfriend's cunt? When, each and every morning, you are licking her insides and then giving her a taste straight from your tongue?" Wait a minute, some small corner of brain protested, how did you know I did that? "I would say you've got some mighty big balls to tell me to 'get out', but you don't have balls. Fortunately, I do. And I gotta tell you, Mom, I think you deserve to have those balls slapping against your cunt. You deserve," he repeated, with a somewhat vicious intensity, "to be fucked any which way I feel like fucking you. Which, you will see, is every way." Who was this person? He didn't seem like my son at all. Would my son do what he was doing? Would my lovely little boy do what he did next? Paul pulled away from me a little. I immediately hoped that he'd realized his mistake. But then his hands grabbed my ass and pulled my cheeks apart. Cool air wafted over my anus, causing it to contract. He could see that, I thought to myself. My son could be staring right at my asshole, watching it close up tight. I wailed: "Noooo, no, no, I mean, yes, you are right, Paul. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have. But you shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't fuck your mother. It's wrong, it's wrong, please...." Paul ground himself into me, flattening my ass, knocking all the words out of my mouth and mind, forcing all sorts of guttural noises out of my lungs. I'd never felt so exposed and so vulnerable in my entire life. "I.will.fuck.you.any.time.I.want." Paul said, each word emphatic, each word synchronized with a thrust. His crude, ugly words struck like physical blows, beating me down and beating the resistance out of me. Then Paul held himself still, his cock pulsing wildly inside me, as my body shuddered involuntarily. He ran his hands up along my bony back, pressing me tighter against Robin. He leaned over and noisily, wetly kissed Robin. "Baby," he said, "you know how much I love to be inside you, right? So don't be jealous....but I have never been in a cunt that fit me so well. " Then he turned his attention back to me. "Mom, can you feel it? The way I fill you up? Damn, you are like a superhighway of fucking and I am a whole convoy of eighteen-wheelers. You made me, and you made me just right for fucking you." He pushed at me and I pressed into Robin. "Get out? I mean, c'mon, Mom. You were planning to use that extra-large vibrator on my sweet Robin today, weren't you?" Yes, I had been hoping to share that experience with Robin, and it was the jumbo size. How else could I enjoy it? And what could I say to my son? I had betrayed him, let him down. I sobbed quietly as he stroked in and out, filling me, emptying me, filling me....I was so disappointed with myself, feeling like maybe this is what I deserved: to be used. Just as I thought that, Paul bit my left shoulder, and my mind flooded with a memory of a long-ago orgasm that had rocked my world, courtesy of his father, Sam. In the earliest days of their relationship, Sam would come over and watch Saturday Night Live with me. It was a late show, and everyone else in the family was already in bed. They explored each other throughout the show, but were careful to keep clothing on, in case one of her parents came down. But one night, Sam clearly had something else in mind. I sat on his lap as we laughed uproariously at a skit. But while I was still laughing, Sam had already moved on to other pleasures. I felt his hands snake under my skirt, grab hold of my panties and pull them down. "Just your panties, sweetness," he murmured. "You will still be safe from your parents' prying eyes." And so I let my panties drop to the ground. His fingers quickly invaded, stroking me, pulling and pushing in all the right places, causing lightning bolts to run up and down my spine. I spread my legs over his, pulled my feet up to the couch, so that I in essence crouched over him, and then settled onto his fingers. Saturday Night Live faded from my consciousness. All I could think about were those fingers. He probed and squeezed, I moaned and wiggled, and worked ever closer to an orgasm. What I hadn't (apparently) paid any attention to was the fact that his other hand had been busy unzipping his pants. How he managed to get his boner out of his pants while I sat on him, I will never sort out. All I knew was: one moment I was enjoying his fingers, and the next moment his cock was enjoying smooth sailing all the way up inside me. All the way, especially when he put his hands under my knees and lifted my feet off the couch. No more safeguards against gravity, I descending on his cock with my full weight and just in time remembered not to scream. I rocked back and forth, amazed at how high up the tip of his penis was in me. And then Sam pivoted me down to the carpeting and started fucking me doggy-style intensely. It was simultaneously savage and beautiful. My legs shook, my head hung down, my breasts swayed back and forth. And then he pushed even harder, too hard for me to keep my balance, and I went down, pinned to the floor by his relentless cock, legs splayed, my skirt up over my back, my ass exposed and trembling. He stroked faster and faster, leaning over me in his intensity. Then he nipped my shoulder, adding a brief, intense pain to the mix and that brought me to a massive, overwhelming, shattering orgasm that swept over me in waves and left me lying helpless on the floor, panting like a dog, while a stain made up of Sam's cum and my own juices spreading on the rug below me. * * * And now it felt like that same mouth was biting me, the same cock was invading me. And in the same way. Like father like son? And then I wanted to giggle. Really. I felt a giggle bubble up from my lungs. Because son wasn't exactly like father. Son was at least three inches longer and an inch wider. And because I suddenly thought about how this time my juices and the cum wouldn't make a stain on the carpet. Instead, they would soak into Robin's public hair. Maybe even some of it would ooze into Robin's cunt. Oh, that was delicious to contemplate. Wait, what was I thinking? Was I losing my mind? I was definitely losing the battle. Paul was so big and strong. I just couldn't get away. He was now thrusting his full length into me, then pulling almost all the way out, then back again. I squeezed my cunt as tight as it would go when he pulled back, hoping to push him out. But he just yelled "All right, Mom, do it! Be my squeezebox. Shit, I have never been able to get my cock all the way into a woman before!" and then he forced two fingers into me, sliding in right alongside his cock, stretching me farther than ever before. After a few more strokes, he pulled out his fingers, reached forward and pressed them against my lips. They were warm and wet. I kept my lips tightly closed, I turned my head, but he was relentless and finally the slippery fingers found their way to my tongue. I tasted my own juices and as I did something in my brain gave up. I stopped fighting. I sucked those fingers and accepted that I couldn't get away. My son was fucking me and I couldn't stop him. Maybe I even deserved it. I had been bad, very bad, and now it was time for punishment. I buried my head in the crook of Robin's neck and whimpered. And then, as if Paul was able to read my mind, had sensed my capitulation, he laughed and then I heard "whack, whack, whack" and felt a series of sharp stings across my ass. Paul was spanking me and it hurt. "No, no, stop, Paul, stop hurting me." "Hurting you? Ha! A little pain never hurt anyone. How about this?" Then a moistened finger - from the shape of it, it must be his thumb, I thought to myself in an oddly detached manner - plunge right into my anus, before I had a chance to reject it. And when I did clamp down, try to close the sphincter, that thumb refused to go anywhere. I couldn't push it out. And the utter shock of this intrusion sent me directly into one of those orgasms that grows and grows and grows and I couldn't do a damn thing but shake and hang on desperately to the tiniest little part of me that was still humiliated and outraged. * * * After a while I came back to the world, and found it to be very small and quiet: I still lay on top of Robin, and Paul still filled me with his erection. The only sounds were the wet, squishing sounds of him stroking in and out. I opened my eyes and saw Robin smiling at me gleefully. She pushed her lips against mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth. I wanted to scream at her: "Bitch! Bitch! You knew this was going to happen! You tricked me into being fucked by my own son!" But I didn't, I couldn't. My tongue was being explored by her tongue. My asshole was occupied by my son's thumb. My cunt was filled with rock-hard cock. And I liked it. I liked all of it. If anyone was the bitch, it was me. I'd started the whole thing, lusting after my son's girlfriend. This was only justice, rough justice, luscious justice. I pushed back against Paul's cock and his thumb. I pushed and pushed until my ass was pressed right against his pelvis. I ground into him. Paul snickered. And then justice got a bit rougher. Paul moved his thumb around in my ass, stretching me. Robin reached her hands back, grabbed hold of my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I felt something wet plop down on the crack running down between my cheeks, and then Paul inserted another lubricated finger into my ass. Pressure, weird feelings, a rising sense of disgust as I realized what he planned to do. Paul wanted to fuck me in the ass. No one had ever done that. I never wanted anyone to do that. Suddenly, my acceptance of my guilt, my acceptance of his fucking me, evaporated in the panic I felt of him pushing a three-inch wide pillar of hard flesh into my ass. My mouth was big. My cunt was big. But my asshole was as small as anyone else's. I tried to squeeze every muscle down there tight, push away from the fingers. But there was nowhere to go and he just laughed at me and pushed in a third finger. He wiggled them, moving them in circles. I could feel him rub in more and more of his spit and her juices and who knows what. Then four fingers were inside my ass and finally five. I could feel five digits all moving, spreading, stretching me. I felt like I was going to take a shit and a part of my mind went blank at the thought of such loss of control. "No, Paul, no, take them out. I am dirty down there. Don't put your fingers there. Take them out, take them - " He pulled them out. My sphincter closed instantly. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and babbled: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, just fuck me like you're fucking me, that's OK, that's only fair, but don't, don't...." And then he pulled out of my cunt and I felt empty. Really empty. Before I could stop myself, I pushed back at Paul. I wanted to get filled up again. No such luck. "Been there, done that," said Paul, brightly. He grabbed both sides of my hips and pulled me up. "C'mon, Mom, on your hands and knees. You can do it." He moved my body around into the position he wanted me. I didn't have the energy or will to fight him. I couldn't hold my head up. "You are so gonna love this. All the girls do" Robin, still below me, reached up and pinched my nipples. The pain forced my eyes open. She looked into my eyes and nodded. "You will love it," she said. "But it will hurt." Paul wrapped his big hands around my thighs and held them tight. Robin moved her hands from my breasts to my upper arms and similarly clamped down. I couldn't move at all, but I was shaking all over. "You are going to looooove this," Paul whispered, and pushed the head of his cock against my only slightly stretched asshole. I threw my head back and howled: "Nooooooo...." But the cock said yes: "Yes, I will slowly, slowly push into your tiny little hole. Yes, I will wait while you adjust yourself and accept it. But not too long. Yes, I will feel your iron-tight sphincter loosen and surround my big purple tip. Yes, I will sink into you, yes!" That's what was going through my mind, anyway, but it couldn't distract me from the awful, persistent pressure. It felt like something was going to tear, give way. My whole body was rigid, I was afraid to move a muscle. Tears leaked out of my eyes and fell on Robin's face. And then the cockhead popped through and stopped. It pulsed inside me and all I could feel was relief. Thank god the pressure was gone. My sphincter constricted around his cock, but it couldn't get very far. How could he have fit that thing in my ass? I was still afraid to move. I was panting so loudly I could barely hear Paul groan: "Oh, Mom, your ass is fantastic. Who would have thought that such a skinny MILF would be able to make me so happy, would be so welcoming to my big, fat dick?" And then he pushed, aiming to fill me up yet again, but from the other side. Same cock sinking into the same body, but oh did it feel different. Inch by inch, he made his way into me, until I could feel his public hair pressed against my ass. He was all the way in. I was shaking my head from side to side. "No, no, no, no..." I kept repeating, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. Then he pulled back, almost all the way out, pressing against the sphincter from the inside, but not leaving. From that point, he pulled back just a little more, forcing the sphincter to open slightly, getting ready to inject the invader. But then he stopped and pushed back in a tiny bit. Over and over again. I groaned at the manipulation. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of an involuntary muscle that moved according to the will of my son. And I was soon entirely lost in the sensation. There was still pressure, lots of pressure, but the pain and the fear had passed. Robin let go of my arms and scooted down below me, while I rocked minutely back and forth. If only Paul could do this, and nothing more: don't push in so deep, don't pull out (I was scared of how that would feel). I sighed....and then Robin slid what felt like all the fingers of one hand right up into my relaxed, stretched vagina. Pushed them right in and then kept going, until I could feel her entire hand go in, causing the walls of my vagina to stretch beyond anything I'd ever felt before. Soon, Robin was moving her hand in and out, getting more and more of her arm in me each time. And when that rhythm was established, Paul returned to his deep diving in my ass. I could feel the bottom of his cock rubbing up against Robin's fingers. Fisted and ass-fucked at the same time, I threw my head back and roared. Paul laughed and slapped my ass twice, three times. The pain just ratcheted up my pleasure further. I pushed back against the both of them, urging them with my body to invade me to their fullest. Robin scooted down under me to so she could straighten out her wrist and accommodate my desire. Paul's cock was pushed in to the hilt. His balls, just as he predicted, were now slapping against my cunt. A Skinny Mom with Big Holes Then he started grunting, louder and louder. He was going to cum, he was going to shoot his sperm in my ass. How had he been able to hold off for so long? Suddenly, I couldn't think of anything more exciting, more insane, more wonderful. His cock swelled within me, it must have been filling up with cum. Robin balled up her fingers in a fist and moved that bigger object back and forth within me. And then, just as Paul started to erupt, another orgasm roared through my body and head. With each spurt of his burning sperm in my rectum, I screamed and pushed back against him. I also reached back with my left hand and pulled my ass as wide open as I could. I wanted to make the message completely clear: it's all for you, Paul. Waves of pleasure radiated out from my clitoris, alternatively paralyzing me and sending me into spasms. Robin's hand filled me from below and kept me from collapsing on the bed. My orgasm subsided, but Paul continued to thrust and squirt. I moved my hand to grab the base of my son's cock, sticking out my ass. It was pulsing hotly as it sent sperm down into my body. And then I felt something warm on my hand. What was that? I brought the hand around to my face. It was white. I tasted it. It was salty. It was sperm. It was Paul's sperm. Between his cock and his cum he had filled up my ass so completely, that the cum was being forced out. "Displacement of liquids," whispered a voice from my high school physics class. "Oh god," I groaned. His cum in my ass. His cum coming out of my ass. When I said that to myself, I couldn't really believe it. But I sure could feel it and I could taste the results. I reached back, and ran my fingers all around my incredibly enlarged asshole, stroking his cock at the same time, and gathered up more sperm. I brought the hand back to my mouth and sucked. Repeated. As I gathered and swallowed, Paul grunted and pushed, then he slowed down and eventually stopped. He pulled out. Then Robin pulled out her arm. That seemed to take a long time. And I felt so empty, like a balloon that was suddenly deflated. * * * I flopped over on my back, eyes closed, chest heaving, fluids drying all over my skin, fluids leaking out. My anus opened and closed spasmodically, I couldn't control it and that suddenly scared me a little. Was I damaged? I felt like a limp doll, unable to direct my limbs to move. Then I felt my legs being lifted up and back, and a mouth over my cunt. I opened my eyes and found Robin sucking on me. She looked up and smiled. "I like the way he tastes, too." She licked and sucked her way down to my gaping asshole and slurped up the sperm that was still leaking out. It was so sensitive down there that I could feel the shudderings of another orgasm, deep down inside, bubbling around, just waiting for the right moment to explode. Then Paul straddled my chest, looked down at me and grinned: "One more hole." He leaned forward, fell onto his hands and knees. His softening, but still long cock dangling right over my mouth, waving back and forth. I felt like I had no will to act, certainly not to resist. He lowered himself and the swollen, red tip of his cock brushed my lips. I found that I could open my mouth, so I did that and let my lips surround him. He tasted salty and tangy. Paul smiled down on me. "Oh, that's nice, Mommy. I have been dreaming about those wonderful thick, long lips wrapping themselves around my cock for a very long time. Now suck, please." I sucked. He groaned. I ran my tongue up and down and around. I felt Paul's cock thicken, stretch my lips. Then I heard a buzzing sound and soon there was no doubt about what was causing that sound. Robin slid the vibrator into my vagina, all the way, returning some of the previous feeling of fullness, and just left it there, causing shock waves to spread through my weary muscles. I couldn't muster enough energy to even acknowledge the latest invasion. Meanwhile, Paul continued to lower his ever-hardening penis into my mouth and I struggled to make room for him. I was never great at blow jobs and I'd definitely never taken anything as large as him in my mouth before. "Two down, one to go," murmured Paul, and I was only able to wonder what he meant by that for a moment. Then I felt a finger slide into my asshole, then another and another...and then pressure. Pressure? Down there? How could that be? I was already so stretched. What was Robin doing? And then I realized she planned to put her entire hand up my ass. I tried hard to care, but mostly I was worried about biting Paul. I didn't want to hurt my baby boy. Yet as the full width of her hand stretched me, the lower half of my body surged to life. It definitely wanted to reject a hand from its ass. My hips started to buck and twist. And that intensified the buzz I was receiving from the vibrator. Once again, there was nowhere to go, nothing I could do. Paul's knees had me trapped on each side and he moved his arms down to shoulders. I could only move in one direction: into Robin's hand. She reached further in. Now I understood Paul. He told me he would fuck every hole and now he was fucking all three: my mouth, my ass, my cunt. The vibrator buzzed. My mouth sucked. Robin made a fist inside me, then spread her fingers, made a fist, then spread...over and over again. My bowels rumbled, my nipples felt like they were on fire. The room started to spin, so I closed my eyes. But when I did my mind was immediately filled with that first moment of insanity: Paul taking off his boxers and exposing that monster of a cock. In my mind's eye, it got bigger and bigger and bigger. It filled my world, pushed down my throat, went deep into my ass, electrified my cunt. My eyes popped open, came back to the real world, but it didn't really seem all that difference, because the penis in my mouth began to shoot out hot sperm. While I struggled to swallow it, Robin's hand pulled out just far enough to for her first to spread my asshole to its greatest width, and then stopped. I reflexively squeezed against it, lifting my ass off the bed. And Robin seemed to be waiting for me to do just that. She immediately pushed her fist and arm right up into me. My eyes stopped seeing what was in my bedroom. Instead, white and silver lights flashed in my eyes, from behind my eyes, and another orgasm rocketed through me. It felt as though every muscle in my body spasmed at the same time. My spine stiffened and arched. My teeth chattered against the side of Paul's cock, which was once again softening. My hands pounded the bed. Eventually the waves of painful pleasure passed out of me. With a great heave, I managed to eject Robin's hand out of me. Paul pulled out of my mouth. I lay there moaning, groaning, twitching, shaking. I could move my eyes. I could lick my lips. That was about it for conscious movement. I stared at Paul and found it hard to focus on his face. All I could see was the thick snake of a penis lying across his thigh. Who was this? Was he my son, my little boy? Was he my lover? Or - I found it hard to even give voice to the idea - was he my master? I sure let him do to me whatever he wanted. Paul moved his mouth next to my ear and licked it. I shuddered. He whispered: "You always said you would do anything for me..." He ran his hand over my sore breasts. "Now I know it's true."