Tempted by Tanlines Pt.1 - Sex Stories

Tempted by Tanlines Pt.1

... heel that add inches to her height. She's exquisite, one lean thigh tensed while she luses straight arms against to support herself hands, braced against the headboard. One knee is on the mattress, one foot on the floor while she looks back at me over her shoulder. My mother is grinning and loving what I'm doing, breasts swinging until she lifts one hand to maul at her flesh. I gaze where the slender sweep of her back melts into her waist, the feminine thrust of her buttocks and hips. Groaning -- I can't stop myself from making the sound -- jizm pours out of me while, in my mind's eye, I see my mother's abdomen tense, her mouth falling open, eyes glazing as her own orgasm hits her. I'm tugging my dick, catching the outflow of cum in a tee-shirt I've got wrapped round my shaft and the head of my cock. It isn't ideal, masturbating this way, but the urgency was on me and I didn't have the patience to undress for a more leisurely wank. The stuff pumps into the shirt while I stifle my groans. It's so sweet, such a pleasure, the delight made so much better because the fantasy is so wrong. The illicit nature of it gets me there. My mother, my sweet darling mum, with her body so lithe and supple, her cunt so wet as it clenches around my girth. But, as usual, as soon as I'm spent the guilt rushes in. My cock oozes jizm and I'm immediately disgusted with myself. I'm a pig and a pervert and ashamed to be standing in my bedroom with my jeans at my shins, the evidence of my perversion a ...

... sticky mess corrupting the tee-shirt. Appalled, I bundle it up and cast it aside, then haul up my jeans to shove the dribbling length out of sight. Wracked by remorse I vow never to do it again, determined this time. It has to stop. I can't let myself keep on doing it. But, even as I promise myself there'll be no more, a part of my mind knows that I'm lying. I might last a day, or perhaps stretch it to two, but I'll be thinking about her and cranking my shaft soon enough. I can't help it. I'm obsessed. I spend most of my time in a fugue while dreaming about fucking into my own mother's pussy. ### I'm jealous. That's what it is. I came home for the long summer vac and discovered my mother had a boyfriend. My father cheated on her ... once. That she knew about anyway. After that, he was gone. She hoisted the old man away and set about reinventing herself. That's when the yoga and gym started up. Three years ago, when I left home for uni, my mother was well down the road to a transformation Carol Vorderman would have envied. She must have had boyfriends. There had to have been lovers. I don't know what I've been thinking since she got rid of dad. Maybe I didn't care at the time? Perhaps I was too busy getting on with my own stuff to spare a thought for my mum. I don't recall thinking about her physical needs at all. I was her son, why would I? In any event, she kept them away from me and I never knew. But the knowing about this one is certainly getting to me. I can't stand the ...