Me and Mom Fisting - Sex Stories

Me and Mom Fisting

... my tongue up and down Mom's crack, flicking it up and down, nudging her cheeks apart. My free hand slid under her tummy, wormed its way inside her slip, and searched out her heavy breast. As I lifted my arm, Mom's hips followed, allowing my fist deeper into her cunt and my fingers closed over her tit, finding and pinching her extended nipple. "Ohhhh God, ohhh god," she whimpered. For the next five minutes, I worked my hand inside Mom's cunt, sometimes stopping until she urged me into motion again. She writhed on the bed, completely out of control, hips bucking and tossing her pelvis on my wrist. For a moment, I thought what a slut she was, but only briefly. This was my mother, and though she might wantonly crave this lewd treatment, I knew it was only because it was me that she allowed it. In my heart, I knew Mom wouldn't do this for any other man, not even my father. She rose up half way to her knees, thighs stretched out and quivering with every twitch of my hand. She was very close. I turned to look at Lisa, until now having forgotten she was there, and nodded to indicate that Mom would come soon. Lisa had stepped out of the closet. At first I was alarmed but then realized Mom would be unaware of her presence in her current state and that Lisa could more easily escape unnoticed form her present position. I turned back to Mom and released her tit. Thinking of Lisa behind me, I grasped Mom's long hair like I'd done at the sink and lifted her head up. I didn't know if Lisa ...

... could see her face from where she was but the purity of her ecstasy radiated from the glowing, sweat-sheened outline of her continuously throbbing body. "Ohhhhahhhhhummmphhhhh," Mom wailed, quivering spasmodically for a final half dozen seconds and then collapsed on the bed, gasping for breath. Gently, I extracted my hand and twisted left to see Lisa's reaction, but she was gone. Turning back, I caught a glimpse of movement to my right. Lisa hadn't left, she had been moving forward when I had twisted about to look for her. Now, she was at the end of the bed, her right knee already lifting onto the mattress. No! I screamed silently, waving frantically for Lisa to withdraw. She was going to ruin everything. She crawled onto the bed, like a leopard stalking its prey. She was naked and my mind suddenly registered the pile of clothes where she had stood just outside the closet. Her shanks glistened — evidence of the effect of Mom's intense orgasm — as she crawled up beside Mom and laid down about a foot away. Holy shit! Mom smiled, probably thinking it was me, and her eyes fluttered open. Confusion, then shock, followed by horror. Mom's head twisted up until her peripheral vision registered my presence. Her head fell back to the pillow, face reddening, then withdrawing under a mask of — shame. Shame. My mother was ashamed of what her daughter had seen. Her face turned inward to the pillow but lacked the strength to bury itself as a sob wracked her body, then another and another. ...