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This story begins with the conclusion of another story — A Drink With Dora — so that readers could have an easier understanding and appreciation of what led to the unfolding events.

When I got home I met mom in the kitchen and handed her the few groceries I’d picked up for her.

“You two had fun together?” she asked smiling sweetly.

“Yeah, it was nice talking over old stories and stuff.”

“That sister of yours didn’t make you drink too much?” she asked, turning to face me squarely with accusing eyes.

“Not, really, I said,” giggling.

Her eyes moved all over my face and it looked like she was suddenly struggling to breathe.

“You look tired … you two must have talked way into the night … before going to bed,” she said, her eyes suddenly becoming glassy and a look of suspicion clouded her face.

“Sort of,” I mumbled, taken aback by her sudden change in countenance.

“Sort of?” she asked, repeating my words.

She looked away swiftly then immediately returned her eyes to my face, the suspicious look seemingly changed to one of anxious concern or worry. It was then that I noticed that she was staring at the bottom of my neck and I suddenly remembered how Dora had bitten and chewed on it, and the emerging hickey mark I’d observed in the bathroom mirror after showering. My head went into overdrive and thinking quickly I held her steady gaze as I let loose a sweet and necessary lie.

“We were only alone during the afternoon and early evening … some friends of Dora’s dropped by … a few ladies from her office and a couple of guys … we had a little party that went past midnight … one of the ladies got so drunk she had to sleep over.”

Looking at me steadily, mom exhaled deeply and I could see the relief on her face. It was as if she had let go of a huge burden. She looked at me with a knowing smile and twinkle in her eyes. Her face bore a satisfied and relieved look as she turned away from me to continue with her chores.

My big sister Dora and I continued our relationship with me spending progressively more time at her place; I just couldn’t have enough of her sweet body. Mom knew that I was visiting Dora frequently — she had actually taken the time to question her about it, and Dora, rightfully, did not deny it, but cleverly hinted about her fictitious friend from my earlier lie — I think mom bought it, but she never-the-less, looked me over searchingly whenever she knew for sure or suspected that I’d been to Dora’s and would try to lead me into conversation about my visit, which I handled well, I thought.

Being with Dora so often meant that I had less time for my current girlfriend, Althea, and she started acting up. One day Althea dropped by while I was at home and we soon got into a heated exchange in which she accused me of cheating. Mom heard most or all of it.

A week later mom turned up unexpectedly at Dora’s house while I was there. There was a function scheduled for afternoon at my work place which necessitated that staff only worked half day so as to allow for preparations. Dora took time off from her job and we spent the rest of the after-lunch period at her home fucking. Fortunately we had long finished and were all set to leave the house for a restaurant when mom knocked at the door. We took her along and had a nice evening together.

Shortly after, I noticed some changes in mom — the way she began dressing less conservatively, the way she was now looking at me and going out of her way to be near me, using every opportunity to touch me, and generally, adopting a more lively attitude, like she was now actually living for something instead of just going through the everyday motion of being a housewife and mother.

She began skipping Sunday church and ladies group meetings, and most of all I discovered that she’d started having much more than the occasional glass of wine she previously indulged. I don’t think the others noticed that aspect of her change, but I did. Because of her being up under me so frequently I sometimes detected the alcohol smell. I was also the person who secured the garbage bags for disposal every Friday, so I couldn’t miss the bottles.

It was only after mom started being consistently careless with the buttons on her blouse and skirts and the draw strings on her wraps and robes, especially when around me and when we were alone at home that a thought crossed my mind. But every time that thought flashed my head, I’d toss it aside. I refused to believe that mommy was sending me sexual signals; not my staunch, church-going, conservative, decent mother. It had to be just part of the newfound lightening up in her attitude.

Then it hit me — the clever vixen was seeking confirmation of what she suspected was going on between me and Dora. If I took her bait and made a sexual pass on her it would confirm that Dora and I were fucking.

Mom, as stated in the Dora story, was the same five feet, five, and smooth chocolate brown complexion casino oyna as her daughter. The difference was in weight — while Dora was slim with just a hint of thickness, due to the round inclination of her limbs, my mother was nicely plump, still maintaining some shape, despite being about one-eighty or one-ninety pounds. Her boobs were just as full as Dora’s and her ass because of the extra pounds, was more massive. Also, unlike Dora’s likeness for natural afro coils and puffs, mom wore her full head of natural hair, relaxed straight down to her shoulders and around her oval face.

I decided steadfastly not to fall for the bait she was dangling before me. I didn’t even allow myself to look closely at the exposed flesh that kept popping up. It was easy because even though I’d been banging my sister I’d never once entertained the thought of getting it on with my mother. She was pretty and sexy alright, but I just didn’t think I should allow even the imagining of such a possibility, so I ignored her efforts to hook me.

One Saturday morning, six months after it all started, I was awakened by the sounds of movement in my room. Through half-opened eyes I saw mom moving about picking up clothes and putting them into a laundry basket and then started fixing other things in place. The little silk wrap she was wearing was not tightly drawn, far from it, and I could see some of her dangling big bubbies when she leaned over. I even spied a nipple and navel. When she walked, a good deal of thighs was visible. She started coming toward my bed and I hastily closed my eyes. At that same moment I felt a pressure in my loins and realized I’d awakened with morning wood and it was now being further aggravated by what I’d just seen.

I’d spent most of the past night drinking and fucking Dora — she’d gotten a little promotion and we celebrated — I’d come home with a taxi around three AM, because Dora had a mid-morning job related function to be at and would need some rest. I had drunk more than usual, and was still slightly boozed up. The sudden awareness of my hardon as mom was approaching the bed didn’t allow me time to turn over or pull a sheet over my boxers, without her realizing I was awake.

I felt her presence over me and I lay still for about two minutes as she stood there, probably eyeing my tented mid-section that refused to regress in the slightest. Instead, it jerked a couple of times. I felt the pressure on the bed as she sat down beside me and shortly after she was shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and smiled at her. She smiled back at me.

“Good morning,” I heard her say.

“Good morning mommy,” I answered.

I rose up onto an elbow. She was looking steadily into my eyes and was breathing deeply. I could smell the booze. Without thinking, I spoke.

“Yuh been drinking … yuh doin this a lot lately mom.”

“You too … son, yuh think I ain’t notice?” she replied, slowly, with a wry smile.

All I could do was laugh.

“Where is everybody else?” I asked anxiously, noticing for the first time that the door was half opened.

“Yuh father has gone into town to get some material for the repairs he told you about, and he gave Mike and Pat a lift to the mall to do some shopping. He will wait on them … is only de two of we at home,” she answered.

She looked at me steadily with eyes looking like they were starting to tear up.

“Oh?” I said.

I dragged myself up and leaned back against the bed head with knee bent, using the opportunity to drag a sheet over my tent. She wasn’t making it easy for me to control that with most of one breast exposed and the bottom half of the wrap dropped away to the side of both thick, fairly smooth and shiny thighs. I could see she wasn’t wearing panties and the fold of belly flesh below a deep navel caused a stir in me that I tried hard to banish from immediate memory. I pulled a little to the side, determined not to let her trick me into making a bad move.

“You were with Dora last night,” she said, definitively, her eyes now very much filled with tears.

“Yes, she got a little promotion and we were celebrating.”

“You and Dora are sleeping together,” she said, with trembling lips, water trickling out her eyes.


“You and yuh big sister is having sex!” she cried out, water now pouring profusely down her full cheeks.

I knew it made no sense answering with either a denial or a confirmation. It was obvious she knew what she knew.

Her body shook as if tased and she started sobbing loudly.

She cried out “Oh mih gawd, what happening to my family … what happening to me … and to you, Denny … why we doing dese things?”

“Mom, it was an accident … it wasn’t supposed to happen … I didn’t want it to happen … Dora neither … but we were both drunk … and it … it happened!” I said, hoping it was convincing.

“We were drunk,” I reiterated.

“You were drunk … yes, you were drunk,” she said, slot oyna looking at me and trying to smile through the tears.

She started wailing loudly and uncontrollably. I slid forward and threw one leg onto the floor so I could pull her close to me between my legs. She leaned onto my chest sobbing like a baby. I felt my cock pressing into her well-padded ribs but I tossed aside the feeling and the emerging, accompanying thought. As I stroked her hair I looked down and saw that one entire breast was out. I stared at it, titillated and fascinated with the exceptionally huge expanse of black, pimpled areola. It was wider and darker than Dora’s. Looking at it I felt that it was wrong that the other breast was hidden, so I reached out and dragged the fabric aside and the other big bubby fell out, leaning towards the other one because of the slant position she was in. I knew then that I had lost the battle of control.

I thought the breasts were beautiful and I let one hand cover a spongy mound and squeeze it tenderly, then gently gripped a nipple and twirled my thumb and forefinger around it. It began to stiffen and I enjoyed the feel of it changing state between my fingers. She was still sobbing. When the nipple was fully hard I released it and taking hold of one of mom’s hands and prying open the fingers placed on my hard shaft.

“Don’t do that baby … don’t do that to me … please,” I heard her beg, through her sobbing.

But she didn’t pull away her hand, instead she squeezed the cock hard, holding it in a vice-like grip. I began to jerk my hip upward as she continued to sob while holding on to my rampant cock for dear life. Suddenly she was crying and laughing at the same time, her entire thick body trembling against mine.

“Is only we two home … and we both drunk … yuh hear me … we both drunk,” she spoke haltingly, through sobs and laughter.

She looked up at me and cried out, “We both drunk, we both drunk, Denny … yuh hear mih … yuh understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” I said in a soft voice.

I placed a hand under her chin and raised her head. I placed my lips against hers and she opened her mouth and poked out her tongue; my stale boozed mouth mashed against her freshly boozed mouth and we kissed — hard — long — with a blazing passion.

She wrenched her head away from the kiss and pressed it into my lap. I felt my cock enter her mouth and saw her head began to bob up and down. She was making passionate animal sounds as she ate my cock, unknowingly swallowing and enjoying her daughter’s pussy juice awakened from its dried-on state by her saliva. I hadn’t bathed after fucking Dora; I had come home and gone straight to bed. The thought of her and Dora’s fluid mixing on my cock drove a blazing fire in me and standing up, I shoved mom onto her back, dragged her around and pulled her, settling her ass on the edge of the bed.

In a flash I was out of my boxers and without a single thought about any further preliminaries I found her mound and drove my hard cock past the thick black bush that showed only a few spaced out strands of grey and brown hair and into her wet and ready pussy while she was still positioning herself to accept me. She howled, and with amazing agility, raised her bent knees, drew them back and spread wide for her son’s big hard cock.

I grabbed her chubby hips in a tight hold and began hammering home as her thick, dark body jiggled all over, the big bubbies flouncing all over the place.

“Yes baby, yes, fuck yuh mommy … do me whateva yuh do to Dora … whateva yuh want, take … I’m all yours,” she cried.

Her words, coupled with the sight of her thick juicy body on the spread-out shiny, bright blue, silk wrap that she was still in, further enflamed and energized me and I upped the tempo as I flailed away at my mommy’s hairy pussy with long, brutal strokes. Through the pleasure tingling my body I could also feel a definite anger. I realized I was hammering her with obvious fury; I was mad at her for making me lose control and fuck her mature, mommy pussy. So I took comfort and perverse satisfaction as I watched her face grimace as if she was in pain.

“Ooooh, baby, baby,” she was crying out repeatedly.

As I fucked my mother hard, my stiff cock moving piston-like back and forth inside the bush covered cunt, I couldn’t understand why I felt so upset with her despite the pleasure she was giving — the enormous chance she was taking to please me. Why, when I found it so easy and comfortable fucking my sister — her daughter. What was the difference? They were both taboo — cut from the same cloth — maybe a slightly different shade, but family all the same. How could I find it ok with sister but disgusting with mother? And then it came to me … suddenly; I was in love with Dora. I had fallen in love with my sister and was angry with my mother for making me betray that love.

I continued the heavy artillery pounding of mom’s — no, Millie’s pussy. I’ll call her by her name, canlı casino siteleri Millie, no more mommy. If I’m fucking her she’s Millie to me. That should make it easier, more acceptable.

I saw Millie’s grimacing face and the bouncing bubbies. I heard her cooing sounds and saw the sweat from her forehead mingling with the earlier tear stains. She opened her eyes and smiled lovingly at me and I managed to return a kind of smile through the anger. And when she brought her feet down, planted them on the bed — she had since drifted more into the middle, driven by the force of my hammering — and started to wind her mature bulk under me, I smiled inside and thought to myself that in spite of everything else she was pleasing me. Millie was a good, fat, fucker. She was a frisky old girl; not bad the way she moved for a fifty-five year old. My anger subsided.

But when she made a circle with her plump lips and began issuing a cooing, whistling sound and her body began to shake under the force of an orgasm, my anger resurfaced. I was disappointed that she had derived such great pleasure from her act of betrayal — fucking with her daughter’s lover! Never mind the part, of him being her son, and she having just as much right as the daughter if fuck was the game being played.

I didn’t even ease up a bit for her to enjoy the cum without distraction. I continued hitting the old pussy hard as I watched her black eyes roll back in her head and become white.

Fifteen minutes later she was sweating like a pig and I was still hammering away. I knew that it was going to be a long ride because of the alcohol in me and the amount of juice Dora had drawn out of me overnight.

I got off of Millie and made her stand on the floor bent over with hands on the mattress, backing me. after flicking the silk robe far up her back, I centered the pole and drove it into her hard. And the damn old girl rolled her ass as if asking for more. I gave her more. Lifting one of her legs onto the bed and angling her slightly sideways for more comfort in the demanding position, I continued the hammering, watching the big juicy ass bouncing delightfully. I reached under and grabbed her two big bubbies and squeezed them roughly, causing her to wince loudly. My leg joined hers on the bed and, crouched like a dog on her back I pumped away, fucking her with quick short jabs.

“Let me get on the bed honey,” she begged.

I came off and she got on. She collapsed on elbows and face, back arched, big ass high and ready for another ride. I pushed into the juice-gushing cunt and changed tactics, moving into a slow, deep and steady rhythm while gently rubbing the big fleshy balls and ample hips.

“Oh, yes baby, mommy likes this,” she whispered.

I gave her more of what she liked, finding that I also, was enjoying this slow sailing as she jerked and undulated under me, giving me a welcome new breath after the hard running we’d been doing. Following a hunch I opened my hands and gave her several hard slaps on the big ass, noting and enjoying how it jerked and contracted with every blow. And she surprised me when I heard her voice.

“Thanks, thanks, thanks!”

I rode her in the same slow fashion for a few more minutes, then I withdrew completely and raised the cock higher, positioning the head against her puckered back door. I pushed forward and she winced and tried to scuttle forward but I followed her and held her fast, pushing again. Once more she winced.


“Yes, Millie?” I asked, still pushing as she was contracting to keep me outdoors.

“What yuh doing?

“What yuh told me to do,” I replied, pushing harder.

“I didn’t … aaah … tell you to … aaah,” she cried out as a little bit of me went into the restricted alleyway.

“Yuh said I could take whateva I want … I doing that” I said, blowing hard, from the effort to break in.

“Aaaaaaaahhh … ok honey … aaaaaaaaahhh … its ok, its ok … ooooh … just take it … ooooh … slow.”

I jabbed slow and steady as she oooohed and aaaahed, until I had gotten all of me deep into her rose chamber. I remained still for a while then I started to move with a steady but slightly quicker rhythm of short jabs, gradually increasing to longer probes, her body trembling from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Oh, honey, I like this … yes, bugger yuh mommy batty.”

The old girl relaxed in bliss and let me ride her like that for a long time, only hissing and cooing in appreciation of the batty probing. She was obviously enjoying it.

“Mih knees sore, let me get on my back,” I barely heard her mumble.

I withdrew and she rolled over onto her back and quickly pulled her bent knees back to her bubbies. She seemed eager to have me back in the restricted saddle. This time around with the hole slackened up I entered her with relative ease and she closed her eyes with a smile on her lips as I began to pump the hole. It was a nice tight fit and I cruised inside it for a long time and at the same time when I heard her whispering voice telling me she was sore, I erupted in Millie’s backside with a mighty shudder and the momentarily recessed anger returned. I slapped her face hard.

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