I was in the kitchen doing the dishes when my husband came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me in an embrace.
“What do you want?” I asked, smiling as I leaned into him. We’d been married for 20 years and I knew when he was loving like this it was usually because he wanted something.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice full of angelic innocence. His hands wandered up to my breasts and gave them a firm squeeze.
My breasts were fairly large and for a 39-year-old woman who’d had 2 children, they were surprisingly firm. My husband, Mark, had always been a breast man and he loved my tits like no man I’d had before him.
“Mark, I’m a bit busy right now,” I told him as I scrubbed away at the oven dish.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then. I’m gonna go watch the game downstairs so I’ll be in the basement for a while,” he said as he drifted away.
“Of course,” I replied with a laugh. He’d just wanted to let me know he was vanishing for a while without me getting annoyed. I shook my head and finished up the dishes.
My 19-year-old daughter, Erin, had been unwell at dinnertime and gone up to her room, so I decided I’d go and check in on her. Only when I got to her room I found her door open and she was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around and my eyes fell on a discarded buttplug on the floor by her closet. Clearly, I was going to need to have a talk with her about discretion.
I walked down the hall towards my son’s room. Tristan was 18 years old, and although he and Erin didn’t get on that well most of the time, they had been spending more time together recently. Now that they’d grown up a bit they didn’t fight so much. Erin was probably in there which hopefully meant she was feeling better.
“Tristan?” I called out before pushing his door open.
Tristan was lying in bed, his duvet covering his legs and his bare torso exposed. I immediately had an inkling of what he’d been doing moments before I’d arrived and had to stop myself from smiling in amusement. The touch of pink in his cheeks confirmed it.
“Mom, you’re supposed to knock!” Tristan complained, sounding every bit like a moody teenager.
“Oh, don’t be so silly, Trissy. You’ve got nothing I’ve not seen before,” I said. He hated being called Trissy but I just couldn’t help myself. It was what I’d called him when he was little and I liked to call him it still. Especially when he was being grumpy.
“Don’t call me Trissy,” he said sullenly.
“Don’t pout, Trissy, it’s not manly,” I said, enjoying tormenting him.
“Stop it,” he growled, his voice taking on a manly timbre that I wasn’t used to.
“Have you seen Erin? I checked her room and she’s not in there,” I asked, remembering why I’d come to his room in the first place.
“I don’t keep a tracker on her, Mom. She’s probably in the shower or something.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Trissy,” I warned him.
“Mom!” Tristan snapped, stomping his foot on the bed. As he lifted his foot and brought it down, his duvet flew kaynarca escort off him revealing his young, semi-erect cock.
I gasped. I’d never before seen a cock quite like it. Even in its semi-erect state, it was bigger than any I’d ever seen before. Tristan’s father’s cock was thick but not very long, what I was seeing now was bigger than my husband’s and it could only get bigger. I couldn’t believe that my son was the owner of such a sizeable package.
“Tristan,” I said weakly, covering my mouth with my hand. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from my baby boy’s manhood. One thing was certain, he was not a boy any longer. I felt the familiar sense of arousal between my legs and my face flushed with shame. I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that about my own son. It was immoral and disgusting.
“Oh my God, Mom!” Tristan yelled as though it was somehow my fault that he’d exposed himself to me.
Blushing furiously, Tristan snatched his duvet and pulled it over himself, hiding the view of his magnificent penis. My eyes still lingered on his groin even though it was now covered. I tried to smother my disappointment as I looked back up at my baby boy’s embarrassed face.
“Yes, well, I’d better get back downstairs,” I said, exiting the room quickly and closing the door behind me.
I hurried down to the living room and grabbed my book, eager to erase the encounter from my mind. As my eyes moved over the words I took none of it in. My son’s massive cock was still firmly implanted in my mind. I couldn’t shift the image. I could feel myself getting hot as a burning desire between my legs grew and remained, refusing to give me any peace. A thirst for cock had built up inside me, thanks to my son’s massive schlong, and I didn’t know how to quench it. Mark would not appreciate me trying to jump on him whilst he was watching the game.
The way Tristan had been lying on his bed came into my mind and I immediately imagined myself laying like that with him standing over me, his giant tool hanging between his legs. I groaned in arousal and anger at myself for feeling it. I put my hands between my legs and softly rubbed the material of my skirt against me. Instantly, I felt wetness accumulating between my legs as the ache between them continued.
“Oh God, stop it!” I hissed to myself. My nipples had gone hard and my pussy was on fire. I had to do something to release the tension that was rapidly building inside me.
I stood up and wandered around the room, forcing my mind away from Tristan’s cock and his hard, toned body. I stalked back and forth pacing the room, desperate to combat the wicked thoughts racing through my head. He had abs to die for and his arms sported muscles that looked like they could break boulders. When had my little boy turned into such a man?
Over the following days, I still struggled to remove the image from my mind. I even considered getting therapy for the depraved thoughts. When I was at work the image kaynaşlı escort of that swollen dick flashed into my head. Whenever I looked at my son I was reminded of the occurrence. Even when I made love to my husband I imagined Tristan’s cock and how it would feel inside me.
On Saturday morning, Mark had taken Erin shopping, and Tristan was still asleep in bed. Like most teenagers, he slept most of the morning away. I was doing laundry and decided to check his room for any. His bedroom floor was usually littered with dirty clothes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping he’d be sleeping naked. Maybe he’d be in such a position that I could get another peek at that impressive pecker.
I inched open the door slowly, not wanting to wake him, but I was dismayed to see that he wasn’t in bed. His duvet was in a messy heap and his bed was empty. Indeed, his floor was covered with dirty socks and shirts. I entered the room to retrieve the dirty garments and that’s when I heard his shower. I glanced at the door to the ensuite bathroom and saw that he’d left it ajar. A narrow crack was open through which I could see into the steamy bathroom.
Feeling like a thief, tiptoeing as though I was intruding, I darted over to the bathroom door. Peering inside, I saw that Tristan was in the shower. The water spattered like heavy rainfall and the steam filled the room. The blue shower curtain was not closed fully and through the gap I could see Tristan lathering himself up with soap. He had his back to me and I made a small lusty noise at the sight of his muscular butt, tight and gorgeous. I looked at the muscles across his back and smiled. Mark had never had muscles like that, he’d always been a doughy man.
My son turned slightly and the prize I had been seeking came into view. My breath caught in my throat as I gazed upon his soft but beautiful cock. Hanging there between his legs, a pair of big, manly balls behind it, Tristan’s cock was already almost as long as father’s erection, and just as thick. Mark would be insane with jealousy if he knew what his son was packing in his pants.
I bit down hard on my lip to stop myself from crying out in surprise as Tristan began to lather up his cock. He soaped up his member and the action was oddly hypnotic. As he rubbed the soap over himself with his hand his cock started to respond to the touch, expanding before my eyes.
“Oh my God…” I thought, as I saw it swell and grow. Without realizing it, my hand went up to cup and squeeze my breast as I watched Tristan’s cock get bigger and bigger. His cock swelled so big and so rapidly. His girth almost doubled to a size that I didn’t think was possible, and his length dwarfed his father’s, making Mark look like a child in comparison.
His eyes were closed as he ran his hand up and down its impressive length in a harsh and fast motion. My own hand drifted down to my crotch, wondering what it would be like to have that big stick of love inside me.
I wanted to look kayseri escort away but I was obsessively drawn to the sight of this beautiful boy stroking his huge dick in the shower. He looked so hot, so mesmerizing that I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The excitement coursing through my body was unlike anything I’d experienced before, and I found myself wanting to taste it, to feel it.
Before I knew it, my fingers had moved beneath my dress, to the waistband of my underwear and deftly tugged them down. I slipped a finger into my moist folds as I clutched at my breast. I imagined it was his manly hands touching me. Tristan’s cock was throbbing now, massive veins enhanced the beauty of his turgid erection.
He stroked his huge, irresistible cock, as I flicked my clit and penetrated my pussy, matching the rhythm of his fist. His lusty hammering quickened, building toward his release. With my other hand, I squeezed and mashed my breasts which I’d yanked out of the top of my dress, as I watched his beautiful body tense and his ass, flexing with every mighty stroke.
It felt so good to rub myself, to watch Tristan pleasuring himself in the shower. Feeling myself coming close to orgasm, I clamped my eyes closed tightly. I squeezed the nipple of my right breast so hard that it must have hurt me, but it sent me over the edge. I felt a gush of hot juice squirt out into my waiting fingers and cried out with delight as the orgasm tore through my body.
I threw my eyes open, certain that my noises had gotten me caught. I was wrong, thankfully. The sounds of the shower and Tristan’s own moaning had drowned me out.
“Ungh, mmmmmmm yeah…ungh, mmmmm…..” Tristan grunted through clenched teeth as he rubbed his cock frantically.
I stayed on my knees, my fingers slick with my juices, and waited for my son to explode in his hand.
“Cum for me, baby,” I whispered.
With a massive moan, Tristan’s gigantic cock exploded. I watched my son’s cum spray from his manly cock and splash across the wall of the shower. The first blast of liquid landed on the wall with a splat and the next several shot out in long, ropey strands that splattered at intervals. It was a beautiful sight and I wished it was all over my body. As Tristan finished cumming he groaned one last time and ground his pelvis into his hand. He gasped for breath as though he’d been holding it for an eternity and then turned to face me.
I gasped and flung myself away from the door, out of sight of my son. I landed sprawled on his laundry-covered carpet and waited for him to say something. He never did. I must have moved just in time to avoid getting seen. I’d gotten away with it.
I stood up and shimmied out of his room, not bothering to pop my tits away until I was safely back in my own bedroom. My heart was hammering in my chest, trying to burst through. I stripped off my clothes and hopped in the shower, eager to wash off the shame of what I’d just done. Even as I scrubbed away at my hungry cunt, I knew that was not the end of it.
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