Close Knit 2: Third Base

Inspired by his friend Zander, Vinnie returns home and attempts to bed his own mother.


"Listen, Vinnie," my dad said, his large hand clutched firmly around my shoulder. "I just don't want to see you going down the same path as your Uncle Xavier... He started doing that stuff when he was your age and it opened up a world of newer and deadlier stuff. I worry about you, y'know."

"I know, dad ... I'm sorry." I lifted my head finally, staring up into my dad's stern, concerned green eyes. The old man really did worry about me. He was my father, after all. And as such, he wanted to protect me from the world and its ills. The fact was a little suffocating, but it was heartwarming as well. Hell, I even smiled a little. He was the kind of dad any sixteen year old boy wanted, needed.

"I love you, son. I want you to take care of your body," he said, pointing a finger at my chest, and then up to head, tapping my temple, "as well as your mind."

"Love you, too, dad."

Dad smiled and turned. Before stepping out into the hallway, he gave my mom, who was leaning against the door frame with her slender arms folded under her breasts, a soft kiss on the cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled warmly, melting against his touch. A pang of irrational jealousy struck me square in the chest. I envied the way my father could make my mother react to him. Especially since I'd begun looking at my mother in a whole new and inappropriate way. It was my friend Zander's fault.

While spending the weekend at his house, I had spied on him getting it on with his mom in her bedroom. And since then, I'd begun looking at my mother in a different light. I'd come to notice her round behind and her long, shapely legs, the fullness of her breasts (I guessed they were large C-cups) and the delicious curve of her neck. And as she stood there in the doorway recovering from my father's kiss, her sensuous brown eyes fluttering, I craved to do unspeakable things to her. To do what my body ached to do to Zander's mom as I watched her get mounted by her own son.

My cock strained against my denim jeans.

Mom, seemingly unaware of my bulge and my filthy thoughts, eventually got herself together and approached me, her perfect petal lips meeting my cheek. The kiss was chaste, motherly. Regardless, I throbed behind my jeans, and feeling her soft palm cup my cheek didn't help my libido none. "Be good, will you?" she said

"I will," I told her, smiling. I watched her leave, admiring the way her hips shifted in her form fitting khakis, and waited a few moments before I quietly shut my door and fell back against it. I inhaled deeply, and let out a long, tension-filled breath. I wanted to masturbate, to rip my jeans open and stroke myself right then and there. My fingers ached with the need. But there was no time for that. Not yet. There was work to be done.

I walked across the room and plopped down in my high-backed leather office chair in front of my computer desk, turning on my PC. Once the operating system loaded, I opened my web browser to visit a message board dedicated to erotica, a message board that I'd discovered that my mother frequented after snooping through her browser history on her laptop. She'd written stories under the username "StarvingMILF," stories supposedly based on her own experiences. I'd read every one she'd posted in hopes of finding something that'd inspire me to seduce her. I discovered that she'd written a new tale while I was staying at Zander's place the week prior.

She'd written about her and dad, and how they'd role-played as father and daughter. She'd written how it turned her on to pretend she was my dad's horny little girl. How it turned her on to call him daddy as he fucked her. How the taboo of incest makes her cream herself....

Fucking jackpot!

I felt myself grinning like an idiot, estatic. The chances of successfully seducing my mother had skyrocketed. Now, it was a just a matter of catching her alone so that I could make a move. With my newfound information, I celebrated on my bed with an orgasm, thinking delightfully sinful thoughts of mommy dearest.

[ [ [ Close Knit 2 ] ] ]

"You're a little drunk, I think," I told my mom. It was the end of another Ladies Poker night in our house, which left the living room cluttered mess of beer bottles and styrofoam dinnerware. The powder blue card table was still set up, and mom sat in one of the four matching folding chairs that surrounded it, nursing a bottle of Samuel Adams. Dad wasn't home, and though right now was a perfect opportunity to try to bed my mom, I at least wanted her sober. I wanted her perception good and clear. I wanted her to know that it was her son filling her with cock.

"A little bit," she agreed. "But I'm functional, I promise."

As I picked up around the living room I watched her. She was incredibly sexy...even when slouching. Her emerald green halter top exposed her smooth, creamy shoulders, her long auburn hair falling over them delicately. I licked my lips. I imagined showering those shoulders with kisses, and moving those kisses up to her neck.

My need for her must have taken over, because before I knew it I was behind her, my hands were on her shoulders, massaging her supple, sweet smelling flesh. And to my surprise, she'd allowed it. She leaned back, using my stomach as a headrest and ... moaning. The sound made firey need swell in my chest, and my fingers ached to slither down into the top of her halter top.

"God, I haven't gotten a massage in months," Mom said. "...that feels so good, honey."

"Heh. Well, you seemed real tense," I lied.

"I was..." Her head rolled on her shoulders as I massaged her muscles, letting out a quiet little sigh. The way my cock cried behind my jeans, begging me to make a move so that it'd eventually find home between her thighs. And so, I gave in to my need, dipping my head to softly press my starving lips against the curve of her neck. Her skin was soft, warm, the feel of it against my lips making my knees buckle and my mouth water.

She gasped and I froze, fear mixing in with the lust burning within me. But I was here now. I'd gone to a place of no return. I'd already stepped over the boundaries of mother and son; stopping, backing down...it'd be foolish.

"Vinnie..." She said in a voice that sounded far away. I ignored her, kissing her neck again with an open mouth, so that I could taste her. She let out another sharp gasp as my lips and tongue indulged in her skin. My fingers wandered, sliding down her chest and down the front of her halter top, cupping her impossibly soft breasts. "God..." she said. There was a mixture of turmoil and pleasure in her voice, and I imagined that her sobering mind was trying to make sense of the situation.

While I kissed the space between her neck and shoulder, my fingers found her nipples, pincering them betwixt thumb and forefinger, squeezing and tugging. My mother let out a shivering moan, her breasts rising and falling in my clutches. She wanted this. I knew that she did. Otherwise she'd have stopped me at the kiss. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. She confirmed my thoughts when she rose her hand, cupping my cheek as my tongue explored her shoulders, neck, and jawline. Her other hand rest at her flat stomach, probably itching to slip down the front of her jeans.

I removed my right hand from her halter top and moved it southward, undoing the front of her jeans. Mom tensed up, freezing, but gave no protest when I'd slipped my fingers down the front of her white panties. My cock throbed sorely at the firey touch of my mom's bare moistening pussy, pulsating needingly as my fingers explored her soft slit, and my thumb rubing at her clit. Mom sank into the chair, whimpering.

"Vinnie...baby, oh God."

I said nothing, and continued to work my fingers. She whined and writhed, softly raking her fingers against my cheek when my middle finger toyed with her hole, teasing her.

"...me..." I heard my mother say, barely audible. "In me...put it...put it in me...put it in me!" Turning some, she leaned up and pressed her perfect lips against mine with animalistic hunger, and the brace nearly made my legs useless. I've always thought myself the good kisser, but my mom's experience outshined mine in that moment. I'd never been more turned on in my life.

"Put it in me, baby," she said against my mouth, her voice shaky and desperate. I did as I was told, shoving my finger into her pussy, her hot walls slick and firm, driving me wild. Mom let out a pleasant, whiney moan that rang in my chest, and out of hunger and lust my teeth found her bottom lip. My hand moved faster, and the fingers of my left hand pinched harder on my mom's nipple.

"Ahhhn!" Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, her hips moving frantically against my hand. I wasn't quite sure what was happening until a moment later, when her walls closed around my finger, and her body tremored with orgasm. "Damn...damn, Vinnie, oh God." Mom had buried her face in my neck, and I could feel her breath splashing hotly against my skin. As she shuddered against me, recovering, I pulled my hand from her panties and slipped my cum-soaked finger into my mouth. My mom's juices were arm, sweet, and smelled marvelous. I was beyond excited. So excited that I'd made my boxer briefs sticky with pre-cum.

I was sliding my hand back down to her pussy when she closed her hand firmly around my wrist, stopping me. No...she couldn't have been backing down now. Not after all of that! I started to say something, but quickly understood what was going on. The sound of a car door closing rang outside.

Acidic fear rose in my chest, and I straightened, backpedaling a few steps.

"Your father's home," My mom said in a frantic little voice. "Oh, God, what did I just do...?"

I said nothing. I just turned and dashed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me, my heartbeat thundering in my ears and my heart pounding against my ribcage—it wanted out. Moments later the adrenaline subsided, and rationality slowly closed around me. It was just dad...he had no idea what I'd done to my mother, nor would he find out...

Right?

I shook my head, and climbed onto my messy twin bed. I was still hard. So hard, that I was sure I could kill small animals with my cock. Despite getting so damn close...I didn't get to fuck my mother, and I was suffering from a massive case of blue balls. My dick was hating me something fierce right now.

I heard the front door shut, and my heart skipped a beat. I heard them kiss, and my father ask how her Poker night went. Surprisingly, mom sounded composed and unbothered, as though she hadn't just cum on her son's fingers. I turned on my side. I'd just have to wait until the next Ladies Poker night, it looked like.

I stroked myself to sleep that night.

Smiling.



Continue reading Close Knit 2: I Spy...


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