He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. Immediately Richie closed them, shielding himself from the sunlight which was streaming through the thin part between his bedroom window curtains. It was a narrow stream of light but enough to make the sandy-haired, naked 20-year old decide that he needed to get up. Opening his eyes again, he looked to the other side of his bed. It was empty, save for the fuchsia thong. He extended a muscular arm and scooped up the flimsy underwear and put it to his nose, taking a long hit of it. His mind vividly recalled the thong’s owner.
Her musk—I can never get enough of it. He inhaled deeply again. I never have been able to get enough of it for a year. Another sniff. I never will.
The earthy, piquant, female scent made his prick twitch awake. Richie smiled, tossed the thong to the floor and rose out bed. He padded out of his bedroom down the hall to the kitchen. He stopped in the archway. There was the thong’s owner.
She was a little shorter than Richie. Her back was to him, her flowing blonde mane tied in a ponytail. The blonde hair was a nice contrast to the green of the Packers T-shirt she was wearing. The young man took in the ravishing site of this sexy woman. Seeing how the hem of the jersey barely covered her ass, a curvy masterpiece which Richie felt was an ass to die for, caused his dick to further inflate. Her legs, long and tapering, were slightly parted with her dainty feet flat on the tile floor. He sauntered over to her, his semi-hard penis bouncing about.
“Good morning,” he murmured as his arms enveloped her waist, his head tucked into the nape of her neck, and his woody nestled on the jersey against her ass crack.
Mag had been sipping her morning coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, lost delightfully in the memories of the previous night’s carnality. Richie and she had celebrated their first anniversary together the previous night. Actually they knew each other for two decades. But it wasn’t until a year ago yesterday that they knew each other. Being in his arms always gave her a feeling of security and love. The feeling of his hard-on against her rear caused the peach-shaped bum to reflexively push back against the adored stalk of young manhood.
“Good morning,” she responded.
Her lower push-back caused Richie’s penis to solidify completely. He lifted the hem of the jersey, bent his knees and sensually rubbed himself up against her. She released an erotic sigh.
“You really shouldn’t be doing that.”
The college student smiled to himself. He chuckled at the half-heartedness of her cautionary statement.
“Why?” he confidently inquired, after his hands reached under Mag’s shirt and cupped her large, bare breasts.
“Mmmm,” she purred, relishing in the double approach of his prick and hands. The onset of moisture started in her cunt.
Richie lovingly squeezed the tits, his fingers tweaking the hardening nipples. Again he asked, “Why?” It was a sexy Q & A they frequently did just at the start of some epic sex.
Closing her eyes, she answered with a grin appearing over her pretty face. “Because I am your mother.”
He leaned into her ear. “I’m a motherfucker. What can I say? Guilty as charged.”
His hands were massaging the sensitive underside of Mag’s breasts, while he bent his knees and jabbed his firm member upward, almost entering his 43-year old parent.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, thinking he was going to take her from behind like he did most weekends. After their individual bedrooms, the kitchen was the next room in which the most illicit sex took place in. She started panting.
“Are, are you going to fuck me?”
“Nah. Not now,” he said, knowing that his manual and pelvic motions were exciting her. “Right now, I want breakfast.”
Somewhat disappointed, she asked “What do you want to eat?”
Again he leaned into her ear. “You!”
He quickly backed away and placed his left hand on her left leg and his other hand on her other leg. He adjusted her left leg so that it was steady and away from the counter. He lifted her right leg, and placed it on the counter top so that she was in an inverted L position.
“Aaahhh, Richie!” she swooned.
Mag stood in a ballet-stretch pose, her butt-cheeks spread and now fully exposed thanks to the jersey being raised above her waist. Richie sat down on the floor and raised his head between her vagina and the counter. He mischievously grinned at the sumptuous display of MILF pussy. The kitchen light did a noteworthy job of highlighting the small patch of fluffy, well-trimmed pubic hair. The pink labia were spread before him like the ‘meal’ it was. The fleshy petals already had a dewy appearance and seem to beckon him. His nose detected a heady combo of her sexual aroma and vanilla. It was her body wash, and his favorite one.
Nothing like Mom’s pussy when it is clean and wet!
Ritchie craned his neck upward into her crotch and stuck his tongue out.
A shiver ran down her spine and a raspy “Ahhh!” was released by Mag as her son’s tongue lapped at her twat, giving it a long, luxurious upward stroke. The flat of his tongue glided over the cuntal lips and skimmed over the awakened clit. His taste buds instantly enjoyed her tangy flavor.
Her hips bounced upward, then rolled and squirmed.
“Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed.
The young Adonis gave two more slow laps to the thrilled muff. Mag’s hips repeated their bounce, roll, and squirm. He brought his hands up to her buttocks to steady them. Then his mouth covered her most private opening, and sucked on the moist, distended lips. Gently he bit and suckled them, then used his tongue to skim across their wrinkled skin.
“Ahhhhh!” swooned the blonde beauty as the skimming changed direction, Richie now drawing circles on her meaty folds.
The circular pleasure continued for several more seconds. Richie stopped, briefly lost in her fragrance. The smell of his mother’s aroused cunt excited him immensely. He could hear her labored breathing, and feel her generous butt heaving in his palms. The next sound he heard was Mag scream…right after he stuck his stiffened tongue directly into the humid crevice.
“Yoouuuu, sweet thing! Oh, ahhh! Yes! Stick your tongue in mommy’s cunt! Ugghh!”
Richie vigorously, excitedly corkscrewed his lingua into Mag’s buttery gash, its slick inner walls quivering around the tongue, adoring it with a fresh round of nectar. He heartily swallowed his mother’s essence, the muscles and tendons in his Adam’s apple working feverishly. It was almost like a race between his tongue and his throat—which was faster?
This was Richie’s drug of choice—his foxy mother’s sultry, wet and horny pussy. He laughed to himself.
Meth head.
Mom head.
Breaking Bad.
Munching Mom.
“Ewwwwww, that’s it, baby! Fuck mommy with your delicious tongue! Oh yeahhhh! Fuck me with that tongue!” Mag groaned.
Despite his tight grip on her buttocks, the writhing of her crotch into his face made the young lover rest his head against the counter side. He recalled the first time he did this to her several months ago and her undulations pushed his head hard against the cabinet. It was an unfortunate ending to the moment as he saw stars and Mag’s natural motherly instincts kicked in to care for her only child.
Richie moved his head around and in between Mag’s taunt, splayed thighs. The son bestowed frenzied kisses and licks all over her desperate cunt and smooth, damp thighs. Kisses and licks, licks and kisses. It seemed like it was his goal to have his mouth and tongue touch every square inch of her groin.
The determined stud then began to mash his face into Mag’s pink taco, as if he was insanely trying to literally return to the womb which bore him. Responding in kind, the beauty skillfully undulated her hips and rubbed her sweltering pussy all over his delighted face. Richie was in decadent glee as he was awashed in another coat of his mom’s juices.
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