Loading...Maria stood before her son’s bedroom door. She held her fist up, ready to knock. She paused, a tiny twinge of guilt crossing her mind. For the last two months, she had spent every Sunday morning draining Matthew’s balls, helping him to relieve his raging eighteen-year-old’s erection so that he could go to Mass with her. At first, handjobs had been enough. But for the last month, it had taken blowjobs to get him to cum. She hoped they would still suffice.
She knocked. “Matthew?”
“C’mon in, Mom!”
Maria swung the door wide. Matthew was lying on his bed, naked, his huge erection pointing at the ceiling, throbbing and bobbing in time with his pulse. He had his hands behind his head, and a lascivious leer on his face. “There’s my favorite cocksucker!”
“Matthew! Don’t be disrespectful.” Maria sat down primly on the bed. She looked at Matthew’s cock. It looked bigger than ever. “I suppose you’ll need me to suck it again?”
“Yes, please. You know how good you are at it.”
Maria knew there was no way around it. If she wanted to get Matthew to Mass to save his soul, she would just have to go through with it again. She grasped the base of his cock with one hand, lowered her face, and sucked the bulbous head into her mouth.
Matthew gasped as the head of his dick was surrounded in warm, velvety wetness. He closed his eyes and felt his mother’s tongue licking and slurping around the rim and the slit. He felt her lips gradually slipping further and further down his shaft, gradually taking in his entire length. He felt her throat opening up to receive him, and felt her swallowing motions which drew him in ever deeper
Maria grabbed his tender nutsack and gave it a gentle squeeze. She waited for the inevitable taste of precum to fill her mouth and help lubricate the swallowing action. She waited, but was disappointed. Usually he was precumming within a few minutes of her sucking on him, but none was forthcoming this time. She raised her mouth off his shaft and looked at his face. He opened his eyes.
“Is everything alright, Matthew? Usually you start filling my mouth with precum by this time.” She felt a small twinge of panic; the last time this happened, she had needed to graduate from handjobs to blowjobs to get him to cum.
“I don’t know, Mom,” said Matthew. “It still feels good and everything. You suck a great cock. But somehow it just isn’t pushing me up toward the edge. It’s just, you know – nice.”
Maria’s heart was pounding. She had dreaded this day. “Let me try again. I might have a few extra tricks…”
“No, Mom. The time has come. We have to take things up a notch.” Maria hung her head. She knew what was coming. “I think it’s time you let me fuck you.”
Maria’s head was spinning. This couldn’t be happening. Giving her son a handjob was probably a sin. And giving him a blowjob was almost certainly a sin. But they weren’t really sex. Not really. They were just, well, therapy! Yeah, that was it. But actual sex… this would most definitely be a sin. She wasn’t sure she could go through with it. She looked at him with a blank stare on her face.
“Mom? Mom?! Are you seriously thinking of not doing this? You know what will happen, right? I won’t be able to go to Mass. I won’t be able to save my soul. I’ll be damned to Hell, forever! Demons and pitchforks and brimstone, and being flayed alive, for all eternity! All because you wouldn’t have sex with me? Is that what you want? Is it?”
The thought of her poor little angel, turning on a spit in the pits of Hell, slowly roasting over an eternal fire while demons poked him with pitchforks, was too much for Maria. She couldn’t allow that. Not even if she had to commit the worst sin in the universe!
“Of course not, Matthew. Of course I’ll let you fuck me. After all, you have to go to Mass. You just have to.”
“That’s more like it! Now, take those clothes off and come join me in bed.”
Maria stood up. She kicked off her shoes. She unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Matthew’s eyes were staring and his grin was bigger than ever. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She hunched her shoulders forward and it fell to the floor at her feet. Matthew’s eyes bugged out even further. She unzipped her skirt, let it fall, and stepped out of it. Matthew looked like he was about to start drooling.
She was standing in front of him in her panties. She hadn’t put her stockings on yet. She turned around, facing away from the bed, and slid the panties down her legs. Matthew stared, transfixed, at her naked ass in front of his face, nice and round. When his mother turned back around to face him, he was mesmerized by the triangle of hair around her pussy. She was middle aged and looked it, but she was his mother, and he thought she was beautiful.
“Mom, you are beautiful!” Maria blushed pink. “I can’t wait to fuck you!” Maria blushed a deep crimson.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that!” she said crossly. But involuntarily, she felt a tingling in her crotch. And a flock of butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if they were out of fear, or anticipation.
“C’mere, Mom,” Matthew held out his hand. Maria took it, and let him pull her down to the bed. She laid herself down beside him, belly to belly. “You are so beautiful. I am going to fuck you really good, Mom. I am going to fuck your pussy really, really good.”
Maria felt a jumble of emotions; thrills, fear, shock, and also need. Matthew put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. His mouth landed on hers, and his tongue forced its way passed her lips. Involuntarily, she kissed him back, their lips dancing and tongues jousting. She felt Matthew’s hand creep up to her bosom, felt him squeezing her breasts, one by one. And most of all, she felt his huge erection pressed against her thigh; his hot, huge, throbbing erection that would soon be splitting her wide open.
Matthew pulled back slightly. “Open your legs, Mom. We have to make sure you are wet enough.” Maria complied, raising one knee in the air, her foot flat on the bed. Matthew reached one hand between her legs. “Very nice, Mom. You have a very nice pussy.” She felt his hand touch her lips, and a shock like a jolt of electricity went up and down her spine. She felt one of his fingers trace between her lips. “You’re a little wet already, you little scamp! But not quite wet enough…”
Matthew’s finger traced up and down the slit between her pussy lips. He was gentle, more gentle than she had expected. As his finger traced up and down, she could feel herself opening up, blossoming like a flower, and she could feel her dampness increase. She even began to hear a sloshing sound coming from her crotch.
“Oh, you’re good and wet now, Mom. Very nice. Now, roll over onto your back.”
Maria rolled over until she was flat on her back. Matthew took both of her knees in his hands and spread them wide. He was kneeling between them. His cock was jutting out from his groin like a missile ready to blast off. Maria stared at it. Her jumble of emotions had boiled down to just two: fear, and need. Her heart was pounding like a jack hammer. But as scared as she was, she needed that giant cock inside of her.
Matthew leaned forward until he was directly above her, supporting his weight on his knees and one hand. With his other hand, he took his cock and guided it toward Maria’s pussy. She felt the flaring purple head sliding up the inside of her thigh. She felt it first touch her pussy lips. She felt it start to poke itself between them. She felt herself starting to be stretched. And then she felt the bulbous cockhead inside of her, burrowing deeper and deeper. She felt the walls of her pussy being stretched and strained, and it was an exquisite pain. Involuntarily, she lifted her feet off the bed, and wrapped her legs around her son’s buttocks. She pulled him in closer to her, forcing his cock even deeper into her pussy. His cock grew longer and fatter and filled her all the more.
By now he was all the way in, and she could feel his hips pressing against her. But she wanted him deeper still. She needed him deeper still! She arched her back, forcing her pelvis upward, thrusting up toward him! She bucked in a slow, grinding rhythm, pressing herself against her son’s body. Matthew matched her grinding, and rotated his own pelvis, rhythmically stabbing his cock into her, over and over. Neither of them were aware of their grunting and moaning; they were each focused on the physical pleasures running through their bodies.
Maria looked up into her son’s face. His eyes were half closed, and his teeth were clenched. He looked like he was lost in concentration, completely focused on one single task: fucking his mother’s pussy. She responded in kind, focusing her attention on fucking him back, thrust for thrust, twist for twist, grind for grind. Focusing on fucking her son for all that she was worth.
She felt the stretching, sliding friction of his cock in her pussy. She felt his cock head bottoming out against her cervix. She felt his hot breath on her face. She felt his hips spreading her thighs wide apart. She felt his taut buttocks clenched between her ankles. She wrapped her arms around his torso, and felt her nails dig into his back. But mostly, she felt a warmth, a glow, deep in her guts. It didn’t seem to have a single location, and it was growing. It was like a small fire that was spreading through her organs, heating her entire body to a cherry-red glow. And at the very center was a ticking time bomb. Every thrust of her son’s cock in her pussy pushed that time bomb one tick closer to its inevitable explosion. She wanted that explosion. She needed that explosion! She clenched tighter with her legs. She ground harder with her pelvis. She dug deeper with her fingernails. Her entire body was on fire. She screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. The ticking was coming faster and louder, and the heat was about to burn the flesh off her bones.
And then, the bomb exploded! It was a wave of pleasure that blew outward from her groin, destroying everything in its wake! She felt her body shaking uncontrollably, and visions of unnameable colors dancing before her closed eyes as angels sang in her ears! She swooned, and briefly passed out.
When Maria was overtaken by her orgasm, her pussy clenched and pulsed on Matthew’s cock, and pushed him over the edge, too. His body was consumed by his own explosion. He pumped stream after stream of hot sticky cum deep into her pussy, his hips bucking involuntarily, and drool escaping from his mouth to land on her face. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of her.
When Maria came back to consciousness, she felt the weight of Matthew’s body on her chest and hips. She also felt an enormous wetness between her legs. She shook his shoulders slightly.
He raised his head and opened his eyes. “Wow, that was awesome, Mom! You are an even better fuck than you are a cocksucker!”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that!” But secretly, Maria was proud of her ability to pleasure her son. And at the same time, she was ashamed of that pride. She had committed enough deadly sins already today. “Please get off me, Matthew. My hips are getting sore.”
Matthew rolled to the side. His cock, now soft, pulled out from between her pussy lips with a small “pop,” and hung limply down toward the bed. He looked down at it and grinned. “I guess I’m ready for Mass now, Mom.”
Maria looked at the bedside alarm clock. “We’ll never make 11 o’clock Mass. We’ll have to go to Noon Mass.” She got up and retrieved her clothes from the floor. “Better start getting ready, young man.”
Two hours later, Maria and Matthew were sitting in their usual pew at 12 o’clock Mass. Matthew was focused on the proceedings; praying, singing, reading the scriptures along with the congregation. Maria was happy that she had saved his soul for one more week, but wondered at what cost. She had finally taken the ultimate step and had actual, undeniable sex with her own son. There could be no more equivocating about what is and isn’t sex; fucking was definitely sex. Her soul was certainly lost.
But it was worse than that. She hadn’t had sex in a long, long time, and had pretty much forgotten about how pleasurable it could be. And she had been perfectly happy with that situation. Now, she was afraid that her lust had been reawakened. She hoped that it wouldn’t control her, like it did her son. One of them had to be strong. One of them had to stay in control. And it would have to be her.
**************
Once again, Maria found herself unable to sleep at night. This new, undeniably sexual relationship with Matthew was weighing on her conscience, and furthermore, now she was worried about being able to rein in her own lust. She almost felt like going to his room right now, and fucking him senseless! She needed help. As much as she dreaded it, she would have to go back to confession tomorrow. She was certain that Father Flanagan would give her a hard time, but she needed help.
The next afternoon, Maria sat in her car outside the church. She watched people going in for confession, and counted them carefully. She also counted them as they left. She didn’t want to go in until she was sure that everyone else was finished and gone. She was afraid that it might turn into a fiasco like last time, and didn’t want to have anyone around to overhear.
She especially watched the young men going into the church. That one looked strong and well built, she thought. She wondered what his cock looked like, and if it would fit in her mouth. And another one, tall and lanky. She wondered if he could fuck her as well as her son had. And a third young man; she pictured him naked, looming over her, ready to fuck her pussy raw. She realized with a start that she had one hand under her skirt, inside her panties! Her pussy was already wet, and her fingertip felt so good flicking across her clit. She closed her eyes and forgot about the young men in the parking lot. She thought about Matthew’s cock impaling her, stabbing her, loving her. She thought about his drool falling on her face, and his chest pressing against her breasts. She felt her arousal growing, and her pussy getting wetter and wetter as she flicked…
No! What was wrong with her? She was in the church parking lot, about to go to confession! She pulled her hand out of her groin with a concerted effort and waited for her arousal to die down. Her panties were sopping wet. She hunched her hips up off the seat and wiggled them down her legs, past her feet. She stuffed them in the glove box and went back to watching and counting the churchgoers entering the door where the confessional was located. She forced her arousal to the back of her mind, and did her best to keep it at bay.
Finally the stream of penitent parishioners slowed to a trickle, and then stopped. All who had entered had left. She knew that Father Flanagan was alone in the confessional booth, wondering if he was done for the day or if he should wait for any late arrivals. She couldn’t afford to wait too long, or he would leave. She made up her mind, got out of the car, smoothed her skirt, and walked toward the door.
Maria entered the ornately carved confessional and knelt down on the kneeler. She put her elbows on the ledge and folded her hands in prayer. She did her best to keep her sexual need buried deep in the back of her mind.
The screen slid open. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”
“What are your sins, Child?”
“Well, a couple days ago I put a recyclable bottle in the regular trash. And yesterday I had sexual intercourse with my son. And last week, I bounced a check at the grocery store, but that was an accident, so it isn’t really a sin, is it?”
“Wait a minute – what was that middle one?”
“I couldn’t get him off, Father! I couldn’t get him off anymore with my hands, or even with my mouth. So I spread my legs and let him fuck me! I had to get his erection to go down so he could go to mass. Oh Father, help me! I know it’s a sin but I don’t know what to do!” Maria buried her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
Father Flanagan’s eyebrows shot up. And so did his cock! The thought of Maria’s middle-aged body, soft and pliant, pounded and pummeled by her eighteen year old son’s thrusting cock, got him aroused immediately. He needed to hear more.
“Tell me everything, Maria.” He tried to keep his voice normal, through his arousal.
Maria thought she detected a strange note in his voice. She had an idea. “Oh, Father. I can’t say it out loud. Let me whisper it in your ear.”
“Umm… okay. Just a second.” He got up, stepped out of the middle compartment, and opened the door to Maria’s compartment. He took her by the hand and brought her back to the center booth.
“I’m sorry, Maria, there’s only one seat in here.”
“That’s alright, Father. I’ll sit on your lap.” Maria positioned herself on the Father’s knees, facing him, with her legs on either side of his waist. She threw her arms around his neck, and sobbed into his shoulder. His heart was pounding. He couldn’t believe he was letting this happen, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop it, either.
“There, there, Maria. It will be all right. Just tell me what happened.” He wondered if she could feel his erection through the flimsy fabric of his cassock.
“I went into his room, to give him his usual Sunday blowjob, so that he could go to Mass,” she said, between sobs. “But it wasn’t working. He couldn’t cum that way anymore. He needed more stimulation.”
The Father’s erection grew another notch longer and harder. “Go on,” he said, with a gulp.
“He told me to lie on my back. He spread my knees apart. He felt my pussy to see if it was wet enough.” She reached beneath herself, and felt her own wetness. “He stroked me with his finger, to get me wetter.” She stroked herself, remembered how good it had felt. “Then he leaned over me, so close that I could feel his breath. Just like I can feel yours now.” Maria stared deep into the priest’s eyes, and he could feel her breath on his face. “Then he took his cock in his hand, and guided it toward my sopping wet pussy. Just like this…”
Maria reached into the priest’s cassock. She was not surprised to find him hard as a rock already. She wrapped her soft smooth hand around his shaft, eliciting a gasp. She gave his cock a few slow, tender strokes.
“He stroked himself, just like this, Father, to make sure he was as hard as possible. His cock was huge. It looked like a weapon. I had no idea what it would feel like inside me. I was scared to death.” She continued to stroke the priest, who began to moan and whimper at the same time.
Father Flanagan gulped. “And then what?”
“And then he came closer to me.” She inched her way closer to the priest, shimmying her butt forward on his thighs until her crotch was within range of his rigid member. “And then he put it inside me…”
Maria rose suddenly, angled the Father’s cock upward, and impaled herself on it. They both let out gasps of pleasure simultaneously; Maria at the sensation of having her second cock in almost eighteen years; the Father at his first feeling of pussy in nearly as long as he could remember.
Father Flanagan began thrusting his hips instinctively. Some things you never forget. The feeling of warm, sweet, wet pussy engulfing his shaft brought back a flood of memories; he remembered his dearly departed wife, and all the crazy freaky sex they used to have. The lust center of his brain came back from long dormancy, and his thrusting became stronger, faster, and more urgent.
Maria bounced up and down on the Father’s frantic cock; it felt marvelous inside her. It wasn’t as long or as thick as her son’s, but it had a wonderful curve that reached up to her G-spot and gave her feelings she’d never felt before in her life. And his well-timed thrusts and gyrations were much more intense that her son’s inexperienced jabbing and stabbing. Clearly he was a man who knew how to fuck a woman well. She wrapped both arms around his neck again and hung on for dear life as she bounced and wriggled and met his thrusts.
“And then, ugh!.. and then what happened, Maria?” Part of the Father’s brain tried desperately to cling to the illusion that he was still hearing her confession.
“And then… oohhh!… and then… and then… Oh, just fuck me!!” She bounced harder and faster. The Father grabbed her ass by both cheeks and helped her bounce, all the while thrusting and gyrating his hips, his curved cock caressing all the interior surfaces of her needful pussy.
“His cock… kept fucking… my pussy… ” Maria’s bouncing was ever more urgent. “It was… splitting me… wide open…” She felt the familiar glow of sexual heat begin to expand behind her pelvis, the imminent explosion of orgasm that would not be long denied.
“Yes… yes, go on!” The Father could feel her breasts pressing into his chest and her ass cheeks in his fists; his cock felt like it was on fire as it slid in and out of her. The warm slickness, the wet slimy friction, the sweet loving grip on his member had his head swimming with lust and desire and sexual need for release.
“And then… and then… Oh my God!!” Maria’s arms clenched around his neck in a death grip as her pussy clenched his cock, and her body wracked with a thunderous orgasm. She gyrated and shook like an earthquake. Her pussy released a tidal wave of fluids, which washed over the priest’s cock like a tsunami. This final sensation of pure carnality pushed him over the edge; he felt his balls tighten as he released a torrent of his own juices deep inside her body.
Maria started to sob again, her face buried in his neck. The Father slowly recovered from his climax, his breathing and heart rate gradually returning to normal. His lust sated, he began to realize what he had just done, and started to feel a sense of panic. Dear Lord in heaven, what had he just done!? He was sitting in a confessional, with a woman on his lap, her breasts in his face, and his withering cock still buried deep in her vagina! He felt as if he were watching a movie, as if it were someone else. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.
Maria raised her head. “Father? Father? Are you all right?”
“Yes, child. I’m fine,” he said vacantly, feeling as if he were a thousand miles away. “Say six Hail Marys and nine Our Fathers.”
“Really? Will that be enough?”
“No. Nothing will be enough. Nothing will ever be enough. Now go, and sin no more.”
Maria carefully extracted herself from the priest’s lap. She felt his softened cock slide out of her pussy; felt the gushing of mingled fluids run down her leg. She looked closely at Father Flanagan. He didn’t look well. “Are you sure you’re all right, Father?”
“Please, just go.”
Smoothing her skirt, Maria left the confessional. There was nobody else in the church; that was a relief. She walked out toward her car in the lot.
Father Flanagan listened to her heels clicking across the tile floor of the church. He was still stunned. He felt like he was in a trance, like he was somebody else. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He looked around at the carved wooden walls of the compartment. He looked up at the crucifix hanging over the grille. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t deserve to be here. He was unworthy. He got up, rearranged his vestments, and left the church.
A half hour later, the Father was settling himself on a bar stool at the Double Deuces, a seedy bar not far from the church. “What’ll it be, Padre?” asked the bartender.
“A shot of Jameson’s. No, make it a double. No, make it two doubles.”
“I hope you’re sharing those with someone, Padre.”
“Just the Lord.”
“Well, then I hope He’s the one driving,” said the bartender, setting down two glasses.
Father Flanagan downed one glass at a gulp. The fiery liquid burned his throat. Better get used to that burning sensation, he thought to himself. You’ll get plenty of that in Hell. He stared at the second glass. Better sip this one, he thought. But screw it. He gulped it down, and slammed the empty glass on the bar. The bartender looked up. “Refill, please.”
An hour later, the Father was numb enough to start thinking again. He couldn’t go back to the church. He had no right to show his face there. He had no right to call himself a priest. He thought about someone he hadn’t seen in a long time. He carefully got up from his bar stool and staggered toward the payphone on the back wall. He dropped in a quarter and dialed a number.
A woman’s voice answered. “Hello?”
“I need a place to stay tonight. Are you alone? Can I come over?”
“Sure,” said the woman. “Bring a bottle.”
The Father hung up the phone. He turned toward the bartender. “Do you have a bottle to go?”
“Sure, Padre. You want me to call you a cab?”
“No thanks. The bus is good enough for someone like me.”
The bartender shook his head as he watched the priest stagger out the door into the night.