Midlife Surrender Ch. 07

"Is this what you wanted the other day, slut?" he challenged in a menacing voice, timing his lunges to match his words.

"Arrrgggghhhhhhhhhh," Pamela gasped in response, shoving herself back against him, grinding her dripping pussy against his cock, even as he continued to hold her shoulders to the floor.

"Fuck me, you Mother-fucker," she screamed out. "Fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before!" And again she tried to push herself up from the floor, only to again be rebuffed by her Master.

"Oh, I'll fuck you alright, you little tramp," Stuart countered between gasps of air. And then he threw himself at his slut-toy with everything he had, thrusting his cock into her pussy over and over and over and over, not caring about anything except inflicting his mastery over the naked body beneath him, and about pummeling it back into submission.

"Oh, fuck!" Pamela cried out, sinking further and further under the spell of wanton lust that was threatening to consume her. Gone now were her attempts to lift herself from the ground, and gone were her thrusts in retaliation to his. She was vanquished, little more than a limp piece of horny, wanton womanhood, able to think of nothing but the fucking her son was inflicting on her.

"Oh, my God," she gasped. "Oh, shit! I'm gonna . . . I'm . . . I'm . . .

"Arrrgggghhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed as an orgasm the likes of which she'd never dared dream of wracked her body, sending shivers and chills and . . . "Arrrgggghhhhhhhhhh!" She screamed again. And then she lost it completely, nearly passing out, even as her son began losing his rhythm and thrusting at her with increasingly spasmodic lunges as he emptied his seed into her wet, dripping cunt.

And then it was over.

Stuart slipped out of his mother's pussy, then sat back on his ankles. He struggled to gather himself, to gain control over breaths that were still coming in short, heavy gasps, while before him, his mother's limp, nearly lifeless body rested in very nearly the same position she'd been in when the fucking started -- head and shoulders on the floor, knees spread with her ass perched above them. The only significant difference was, where before there'd been a shiny sheen surrounding her pussy lips, now there was dripping cum.

He allowed himself a moment's rest, recovering sooner than he'd expected. Must have had something to do with his slut-toy's pussy spread out right in front of him. He chuckled silently, then reached out and --WHACK!!! -- laid another hard lick on her fanny.

"Ow," Pamela yelped, coming instantly alive. But as quick as she was, Stuart was quicker, lifting his ass from his ankles and leaning forward to grab a handful of his mother's hair and pull her upright.

"Mother-fucker, is it?" he said in a soft, gravelly voice once he'd pulled her to her knees.

"I'm sorry, Master," Pamela pleaded, reacting quickly. "It was the moment. I was just so . . ."

But Stuart didn't let her finish. "I'll show you Mother-fucking," he sneered as he rose to his feet, pulling her along with him.

"Ow," his mother yelped again, struggling to keep up with him.

Once they'd both reached their feet, Stuart spun his slut-toy towards the island and pushed her forward. "Lean forward," he ordered. "Elbows and forearms on the counter, legs spread wide."

"Yes, Master," came the immediate reply.

Once she was in position, Stuart wasted little time. He stepped behind his once again properly submissive slut-toy and slipped two fingers into her pussy, twisting them around slowly, then easing them in and out, in and out. But it wasn't her pussy he was after now, so after only a few short strokes he withdrew the fingers, then moved them to her dark hole and pressed them against the tightly closed entrance. Then, using their combined cum as lubricant, he slipped the first finger inside.

He could see the tension spreading across his mother's body as the first finger made its way inside, but she said nothing, instead allowing him free access, her only protest being a sharp intake of breath as he began moving the finger gently but firmly from side to side, top to bottom.

From there, silence seemed to rule the room for several long moments as Stuart continued working the finger in and out, up and down, left and right, over and over and over. Then, noting the increased effort in his mother's breathing, he began sliding the finger out, carefully stopping just before it popped completely free. Then he brought the second finger alongside and eased the two of them back in. And as quick as that, the silence was gone, replaced by a low, guttural groaning that seemed to emanate from deep inside his mother's throat.

Unlike earlier, Stuart now found himself moving slowly, patiently working his fingers in and around his mother's ass-hole, his single-minded purpose to make certain that when he was ready, she'd be ready. And as he continued his slow motion assault, the ever increasing moans and groans that filled the air gave evidence that soon, very soon, it would be time.

It was a handful of seconds later when Pamela, a glazed-over look in her eyes, turned her head over her shoulder to face her Master. "Is this all you've got?" she challenged in a forced whisper. "I thought you were going to show me what a real mother-fucker was."

Even though it was his right as Master, Stuart elected not to admonish his slut-toy. Instead, he offered a brief little grin before easing his fingers slowly from her ass. Then he repositioned himself so the tip of his cock was at the entrance to her darkness, and then he began inching his one-eyed monster forward.

"Oh, shit . . . Oh, shit . . . Oh, shit."

Despite his slut-toy's taunting, Stuart worked her carefully, easing himself into her one millimeter at a time, then backing off, then reclaiming the surrendered ground plus a millimeter or two more, slowly repeating the process over and over and over until . . . He was in!

For a moment he held his position deep inside his mother's ass, his hands holding tightly to her hips. He could sense her relaxing a bit, seemingly growing more and more comfortable with his manhood buried in her ass with each passing second. Still, he kept his patience, waiting, until . . .

Pamela opened her eyes slowly, then again craned her head towards her son. But when she opened her mouth to speak, a low moan was the only thing she could manage.

Stuart gave a soft snort at her failed effort to communicate, then slid his hands up her sides, eased them forward, slipped them between her arms and body and onto her breasts. Then he leaned forward until his mouth was next to her ear and squeezed her breasts.

"Is this what you wanted . . . slut!" he challenged, feeling a shiver running down his spine as she pushed herself against him.

"Fuck me, Master," Pamela managed to respond.

But he ignored her plea. "Is this what you thought it'd be like?"

She shook her head weakly, gasping for air. "I never . . . imagined . . . never . . ."

And then, with a satisfied sneer on his face, Stuart withdrew his hands from her breasts, placed his left hand on his mother's back and pushed her down to the island top. Then he eased his right hand around her side and down her tummy, not stopping until the finger slid over her clit. And then, ever so slowly, he began stroking her love button, even as he eased his cock first out of her ass, and then slowly back in.

"Oh, God yes," Pamela moaned. "Fuck my ass."

A sudden gasp escaped her throat as Stuart's cock reached its point of full insertion. "Oh, fuck," she groaned. And then all intelligible sounds vanished, replaced by a deep, throaty series of gasps and groans as her son began picking up the pace, ramming his meat into his mother's ass over and over, deeper and deeper while she wallowed helplessly before him. And quicker than she would have thought possible, her whole body went rigid and a deep, dark bellow filled the air as yet another orgasm shook her body, even as Stuart was dumping his seed inside her.

Stuart's body jerked spasmodically as the last of his cum spewed from his cock, then he went completely limp, his body collapsing on top of his mother's. For nearly a minute that's how they stayed, two bodies melded together, neither possessing the strength or desire return to reality.

This time, it was Pamela that stirred first, reaching backwards and running her fingers up and down her son's thighs. Still, it was several more seconds before Stuart finally stirred, and several seconds after that before he found the strength to lift himself upright.

Once her son was upright, Pamela pushed herself to her feet. Slowly, she turned to face the young man she now served, then just as slowly eased herself against him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. And then a soft purr of contentment slid from her throat. She was home. After all these years, she was finally home.

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Thanks for reading. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions.