Bobby’s Hot Mom

“Incest is Best!”

That’s the chant that I heard as a taunt as boys when we teased about sex. Most of them had only had sex with their hands and pillows and whatever else boys jack off with. We would sit in a group in some distant place, whispering our fears more than our knowledge. Finally someone would mention Bobby’s sister. She had big tits and wore tight skirts and was fifteen. That’s when we would taunt him with ‘Incest is Best’.

Later, each of us would find our secret place; the bathroom, bed or closet and jack off thinking about Bobby’s sister and wishing we were him. We knew just how we would fuck her.

We fucked Bobby’s sister a million times in our minds. We don’t know if Bobby fucked her in his mind or for real. He always brushed our comments aside but there was something about his lack of conviction that made me wonder.

Then on hot summer day, I went by Bobby’s house to see if he wanted to ride bikes down to the river. I knocked on the screen door at the kitchen and nothing happened. I could hear the roar of the big old box fan that his mother sat in the window to pull air in. I knocked again. Just the fan.

I turned to leave when I heard the funny sound deep inside the old house. I listened and I heard it again. It was like a gurgle. All kinds of strange and horrible images flashed through my boy’s mind. Afraid to go in and afraid to leave I knocked again. Nothing. Then the gurgling sound.

I eased the screen door open and stepped inside. On the forth step into the kitchen, the floor creaked and I froze. I could just see some mad killer bursting into the room and slashing me to bits. The sound came again and this time lasted longer. Visions of heroics flashed into my adolescent mind as I envisioned rescuing Bobby and his family from the wrath of a psycho killer.

A little braver, I crept into the hall and edged down the dark cavern. The roar of the fan was louder. At the edge of a door, I hung suspended. The sound was there again and I could hear the creak of bedsprings. For what seemed like years I edged toward the door. Inch by inch I moved my left eye to the edge of the door. I don’t think I made a noise but inside my mind I heard this loud gasp.

On the bed were two naked, sweating people. Bobby’s mother lay on her back, her large breasts rolling in waves with the motion of the bed. The dark nipples were pointing toward the ceiling. Her red fingernails clutched at the round ass that worked between her skewed thighs. Her eyes were clamped shut and she gurgled and rasped each time the hips between her thighs slammed against her. The body on top of her worked back and forth and the bed springs creaked with each thrust.

Here was my first unmasked, naked exposure to passion. I was entranced until I looked again. The sounds and smells of sex flooded my senses as I watched the hard shaft of a cock piston in and out of the drooling cunt. The body on the end of that cock was Bobby! He was lost in the throes of passion, fucking his mother!

Just then, the woman began to jerk and bounce, lifting Bobby totally off the bed. Her mouth gaped open and she moaned and gasped. Her fingers clutched at Bobby’s plunging ass cheeks.

“Give it to Mamma!” she rasped. “Fuck me hard, Baby!”

Between their mouth and body noises and the rattle and creak of the old bed, I probably could have screamed and they would never have heard it. I didn’t I was frozen. Wide eyed I stared at the final jerks and thrusts and watched them collapse into a wheezing, sweating heap.

The hard-on in my jeans raked across the door facing as I finally tore myself away from the scene. Blood was pounding in my head and in my dick. I crept back to the screen door and slipped out.

A strange mixture of emotions haunted me for several days. I was in possession of a secret that was too large for my years. I tired to act the same around Bobby but I wasn’t having much luck. Finally, one afternoon, while sitting in the bathroom, the picture of those two sweating bodies came back and my dick was instantly hard. I remembered the smells and sounds and before I could think about it, my hand found my cock and I was shooting a load that seemed to last forever. As the last few ripples of pleasure coursed through me I remembered the violence on the bed as they had done the same.

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