What Mom Knows Fucks Her Ass - Sex Stories

What Mom Knows Fucks Her Ass

... was the gold cocktail dress, that stopped just below the knee, and the mocha colored stockings, my favorite shade of nylon, that had my cock on full alert and begging to be released. Mom hugged me, tight enough that she could feel my attention and asked, "Is that for me?" "All eight inches of it," I flirted back. "I can't wait," she responded, giving my cock a subtle squeeze before I moved around and pulled out her chair like a gentleman. "Oh, how sweet! But you don't have to impress me baby; you are definitely getting laid tonight." I replied, "It's the small things Mom, they are always the first to go when a relationship begins to falter." My Mom, suddenly in reflection mode, agreed, "No truer words have ever been spoken." I returned to my chair just as our waiter arrived. He took our drink orders after taking more than a subtle glance at my Mom's generous cleavage. Once he was gone, I pointed out, "Mom, he was staring right down your dress." "Was he?" she asked, oblivious to the distraction her beauty still caused many, many men. "Indeed he was. Of course, who could blame him? You are easily the sexiest person here." "You and flattery, I told you, you are definitely getting laid tonight. Actually, I am hoping to go for the Trifecta all in one evening." "Trifecta?" I questioned. "Yes, where you shoot a load of your white stuff in each of my three special places," my mother informed me, her stocking-clad foot now on my crotch. "Oh fuck Mom, my first load may end up in my ...

... pants if you keep teasing me," I admitted, my balls already begging to be shot. Her foot stayed there, not moving, as the waiter brought our starter salads. My hand rubbed gently the top of my Mom's foot, the silk nylon the greatest feeling in the world. As we ate our salads, Mom asked, "Ever had a foot job, baby?" "No," I answered, after a brief realization that I never had. Pam, my ex, had rubbed her stocking feet all over my body in a sensual foot massage of sorts, but her foot only rubbed my cock. "Well, then obviously you have never had a stocking-clad foot job," my Mom deduced. "Apparently," I agreed, "are you offering?" As her foot tapped on my cock, she shrugged with a devilish smile, "Well, we already have a Trifecta to complete, but maybe we can fit that in. Seeing your cock squirt it's cum all over my stockings would be pretty hot, don't you think?" "Shit Mom, I am not going to make it much longer," I admitted, thinking I might come like I did when I started my self-exploration when I was younger, just by touch. She smiled, "Don't you dare waste that precious cum." The waiter returned with our meals and Mom thankfully relented, moving her foot away. We ate our dinners and discussed non-sexual things like school, Mom's job, and plans for a summer trip to see the grandparents. If anyone was listening there would be no evidence of our sexual relationship, the taboo sin we were planning to commit very soon. Once dinner was done, my beautiful mother suggested, "I say we ...