Me and Mom Fisting - Sex Stories

Me and Mom Fisting

... after that in favor of butt sex. Even I was surprised by how often I could fuck in one day. We did stop to each lunch and have snacks but we spent almost all the rest of the time in bed. Between fucks, Mom and Lisa were always caressing each other if not actually making love. I think that was part of the reason for my endurance. Looking at a nice ass, cheeks clenching and relaxing to soft sighs and moans, is an incredible stimulant, that's all I can offer for an explanation. When they suddenly go into invitation mode, tummy down, bums lifting slightly, I'm sure any of you would rise to the occasion too. There's nothing like a dually. We did have sex more than once a week but it was more opportunistic because Dad was usually around. Mom rarely let me fuck her if Dad was in the house. The only exceptions were the occasional late night visits to my room if she was really horny and the more regular Saturday escapes to the laundry room. Downstairs, amid the covering noise of the washer and dryer, in a room Dad hadn't visited since he bought the house, Mom and I slaked our mid-week thirst. Although I didn't think about it then, I realize now that Lisa didn't know about those excursions. Neither Mom or I told her about them. I liked having Mom to myself, and maybe she felt the same. I suspected she and Lisa shared their own private liaisons. Strangely, Lisa and I never did it alone. Mom did blow me when Dad was home. I was always ready but she usually initiated it, signaling me ...

... to come into the kitchen or upstairs while Dad was watching something he was really interested in on TV. All it took was a leg sliding out along the couch and a nudge with a bare toe. Mom did that a lot and I know she knew how much it teased me. If she got up and left the room right after a nudge and rub, I knew if I followed I wouldn't regret it. I have to say, even with all the things we did, sliding my cock in and out of Mom's mouth while holding her head in both hands with Dad either downstairs or in the next room is without question the most erotic thing I've ever done. Once, Mom called me into the kitchen to help her, over-ruling a labored and feigned protest from me. Dad looked relieved when Mom told me to slide the glass pocket door closed to diminish the noise from the dishwasher. When I turned around, Mom was kneeling on the floor, waiting. Just before I was about to come, she pulled her head off my cock and directed it at her face. After I had covered it, she stood up and calmly washed several pots by hand that were soaking in the sink despite my pleas for her to clean up. Just as often, I would hear Mom say to Dad that she was going to check on me to make sure I was doing my school work and not playing a computer game. Once in my room, she would lift her skirt and accept my hand in her pussy and my mouth on her clit. Lowering her skirt over my head, she would hump my hand and face, and would soon be unable to stand by herself. I guess that was payment for the ...