Unspoken Pleasure by Erotica

Mom Does Anything:>Ep25

Mom stared at the picture. She stared and stared, then she closed the window and shook her head. I stood, slipping my hand from her between her legs. Dampness coated my skin, more so on the side that had been deepest between my mother's legs. My cock stood straight out from my shorts. I looked to Dad, and from my higher angle, I could see that he had his eyelids closed. Opportunity missed. Before I could step away, Mom tugged on the leg of my shorts. She tugged hard, and after a second tug, I sat down next to her. Mom sighed, and she spread her legs open... for me.

As I sat, Mom turned my tablet back on. This time she wrote, Do not masturbate in front of me. Under my shorts? I asked.

Mom tilted her head to the right, her eyes rolling in the same direction. I palmed my knob with my left hand, pushing down on my head. A buzzing, pleasure-filled cloud swirled around my glans before shooting straight down my shaft, forcing my ass to tighten and my hips to rise. Mom turned the tablet off and placed it on the end table next to her. She faced forward, her eyes on the TV, then looking at Dad, who seemed to be sleeping, and then back at the TV, waiting for me to do to her whatever I dared to do to her.

We didn't set any other boundaries, I thought. What was Mom going to do if I went too far? Yell for Dad? Run upstairs, where we could be alone? Holy shit, my thoughts were getting dark.

The moment was mine, and yet, my hand moved slowly toward her thigh. I had freedom now, and I moved with a slow, persistent pressure as if giving my mother a chance to back out. Or maybe I wanted to savor this. Maybe I was savoring this and giving my mother a chance to back out. I didn't know, but now that Mom had called my bluff, an entirely new expectation had fallen upon me. I had to perform. I had only ever touched Jenna. There had been plenty of finger-banging and pussy-eating between us, but what did my inexperience really know about Jenna's body or how to please a woman?

A real woman. My mom?

My heartbeat thickened in my chest. Dampness chilled my palm as my pulse beat against the center of my hand. I had to perform. I had to. Performing was the only way that I was going to make my mother want my touch, instead of having to endure my touch.

I pressed my palm against my mother's thigh. Her skin seared me. My fingers pointed inward, wrapping around her limb to caress the inner meat between her legs. She had parted her thighs, and I had a narrowing V-shaped window running toward the beautiful, sun-kissed cunny that marked the prettiest portion of a woman's body.

said nothing. I squeezed her thigh again, pulsing my digits against her limb, my rhythm slow and tender. My left palm rolled over my knob, my hips humping upward as pleasure shot through me. Would Mom touch me if I

thought. We've rushed this enough. Tonight

her smooth skin. I stroked my cock faster through my shorts, keeping my fingers around the neck of my shaft

This was madness.

cushion between her legs, my palm resting against her skin. Down I went. Mom shivered once I passed the middle of her thigh. A warm cloud of mist seemed to greet the side of my hand closest to her muff, dampening my flesh and urging

at the front of her shirt, where her rock-hard nipples poked at the fabric, threatening to rip through the threads. They stuck outward, thick and hard, like Jennifer Anniston's nipples on nearly every episode

nowhere to run. My pinky extended again, riding her damp flesh and teasing the leghole of her boyshorts. Her left hand twitched, so I pulled my hand up her leg and caressed the middle of her thigh, squeezing and feeling

saying hello to the world by spreading her open, and now I wanted to go back

desires. I was going to have my mother one day; before the end of this, and

cock said as a

Mom hissed, moving her right arm from the armrest and slapping my hand between her

movement reminded me of the girls in porn, spanking their hairless beavers before their costars punched their cocks into their pussies. I had to bite back another moan, but as I did, I opened my

breath. She looked down. The hand that had slapped mine now rested on my forearm. She tried to push me back up her thigh, but I held firm, staring down

pushed again on my