Unspoken Pleasure

I could only hear the slurping of my mouth and tongue as I snacked on my mother’s snatch.

“Mark,” Mom whispered, putting her right hand in my hair and pushing hard against me.

My heartbeat rose. Mom’s breathing grew deeper–harder–stronger. Was Dad coming? Was my father about to catch us? What would he say if he found me on my knees, swallowing his wife’s twat? My cock hurt beneath my jeans, bending against the threaded fabric and straining my shaft as it tried to rip through the metal teeth of my zipper. Mom pushed harder against me, even humping her pussy into my mouth–trying to push me from the candy-like taste of her sweet muff.

“Am I cooking dinner?” Dad asked from around the dining room corner.

I stood, spun around, and opened the freezer-side door to the fridge. The stainless steel hid my body and the tent that had formed in my pants. Cool air hit me, chilling the sweat on my skin, and I widened my eyes, trying to find my focus as my heartbeat raced twice as hard as it had a second ago. I didn’t really want my father to catch us, did I? I’d love to share Mom with him–I loved my parents. Instead of searching my brain for an answer, I grabbed a piece of ice, stuck half of it in my mouth, and then wiped it across my lips and chin to wash my mother’s juices from my face.

Behind me, Dad was saying, “… I don’t know, but I could order a pizza. I’m one drink away from my pill, and I don’t feel like cooking.”

“Pizza is fine,” Mom said, speaking with a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“Pizza, Mark?” Dad asked.

“You know it,” I said as my bloated salami deflated in record time. “We should get one with everything on it.”

“Aw, to be young again,” Dad said. “I was such a stud! I could eat anything and stay as lean as a hound.”

I laughed and turned away from the fridge, nodding my head. “Sure you could,” I said. “I’ll be in the living room.” My eyes met Mom’s eyes for an instant. “We should turn the lights low and watch some movies.”

“That is a good idea,” Mom said, her voice catching and her nipples poking through her cotton dress.

I headed toward the living room as Dad said, “Sounds like a plan.”

Once on the couch, in the center seat next to where Mom would sit, I pulled out my phone, but Jenna hadn’t texted me again. I texted her, So, are you in therapy, or is your dad going to let me have that ass? I laughed, and I waited, but no response came by the time Mom and Dad joined me in the living room.

“Lights off, Dad?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, drawing out the word, “that sounds about right.”

“Are we going to cuddle?” Mom asked Dad as he settled down on his couch.

Dad cringed and said, “I’d love to. But I have to take my pill soon.” He offered her a weak smile. “And if we cuddle, I’m going to want to stay up, if you know what I mean, and I need the sleep.”

“That’s great, Dad,” I said.

“Hey,” he said, winking at Mom, “if I have to hear about your girlfriend, then you can hear what I have to say. At least my dame doesn’t have to ask her daddy for permission.”

“All right.” I laughed and tried not to look at Mom. “I’ll shut up.”

“Good lad,” Dad said.

“Fine,” Mom said. “I’ll cuddle with my son.” Mom turned toward me, hiding her face from dad as she slid her tongue across her lips.

“Cuddle?” I asked, groaning.

“Yeah,” Dad said. “You do that. You’re lucky, boy”–he looked at me–“when I was growing up, grown men didn’t cuddle with their mothers. We had to sneak in our hugs, and the more hugs you can get today, the more memories you’ll have when it’s too late to make new ones.”

“Words of wisdom,” Mom said, sitting down next to me. “So, don’t pout.”

“I don’t pout,” I said. “I’m a man.”

“Then don’t sulk,” Mom whispered. “Now, get over here and cuddle with your mother.”

Dad laughed, and I smiled, as did Mom. I drew my legs up onto the couch and slid behind my mother as she lay on her side in front of me. Dad used his magic remote to kill the lights throughout the house and close the blackout curtains. He flipped through channels and logged onto a streaming service, selecting a small but well-made, action-packed drama.

“This good?” Dad asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

Mom echoed me before the word had finished leaving my lips.

Dad hit PLAY, and we lay back in the near-darkness to watch.

“Grab the couch blanket,” Mom half-whispered to me, her voice low enough to raise my heartbeat but high enough to stay hidden from Dad’s ears.

Just another night, I thought, realizing that horniness had kept me from feeling the cool of the house. I pulled the thin blanket from atop the back of the couch and arranged it over Mom and me, my feet sticking out of the end, hers not. Once comfortable, I placed my hand on Mom’s side.

Mom pushed her butt against me, wiggling her ass into the tenting crotch of my jeans. I should have worn shorts, I thought, but it was too late now. I looked toward my father, unable to see his face, and knowing that he couldn’t see us, but there was something different about tonight. The excitement of getting caught had replaced my fear of getting caught. Releasing a long breath into Mom’s ear, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her lobe while squeezing her side.

Mom placed her hand on mine, squeezing my fingers, then she patted the back of my hand as if she knew how I felt. She’s as much mine as Dad’s, I thought. More so. I owned my mother’s pussy–not her heart–but her pussy. I thought, at that moment, that no matter what happened in our lives, Mom would always love me as much as Dad, never more and never less. Sharing my mother’s love with my father brought a smile to my face. Mom tugged upward on my hand, and I followed her command.

I let my hand run up my mother’s side, dragging her dress upward as I dipped down to caress her stomach. Its in-and-out movements gave away how excited she felt. I moved upward across her sternum, her heartbeat beating a quick rhythm against my palm as I pushed my fingers between her smallish breasts, her upper tit pressing into the thumb of my left hand. I moved back down then up, outlining the bottom of her left tit between the webbing of flesh running from my thumb to my forefinger. Mom released a shaky breath. I moved downward to do the same to her other tit. I wanted to do more, but we had a pizza coming, and my cock was already demanding that I lift my mother’s dress and push myself into the warm folds between her legs that I had recently claimed as my own.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

I spent the next fifteen minutes caressing my mother, touching her side, her ribs, her thighs, and tracing the curve of her butt and the triangle between her legs, where heaven lay. Mom’s breathing rose, and she grabbed my hand, doing her best to move my fingers over her cunny and tits whenever I came close to them. She pouted once as I ran my fingertips over her mound but stopped short of molesting the lips below. I gave Mom a few humping motions, digging my cock into her ass but never going for the most sensitive spots on her body.