“Oh, God!” Sharon cried as Bobby slipped his cock out of her mouth. “I can’t believe I won’t do.”
She sat on the floor, drawing her knees up, then fell to her side. She jerked her short skirt to her waist, flinging one leg up. She began to clutch at her cunt, her fingers digging, into it, and she wailed into another orgasm.
“Come here!” she sobbed. “Hurry, Bobby! Lie down with me!”
Bobby, puzzled, lay on his side facing his mother. Again Sharon made a pillow, for his head, holding her leg up and wide so he could see her hairy cunt. She stared at his cock, her eyes wet with perverse ecstasy. She took hold of his cock, a thumb and forefinger at the base.
“Piss!” she cried, out.
“Really, Mom?”
“Piss on me, Goddamn it!” she shrieked. “Piss in my cocksucking face, Bobby!”
Bobby giggled, a lewd sound.
“Okay, if you want me to,” he said.
“Hurry! Oh God, hurry and piss in my fucking face!” Sharon wailed, her hips twisting, eyes smoldering.
Bobby let loose a strong stream of golden piss.
Sharon screamed as his piss splashed into her face, her cunt blowing apart instantly with orgasm. The piss was hot in her face, and she angled his cock to spray her chin, her neck, her naked tim. Then she lifted his cock to her face again. She sobbed with perverse rapture, her face quickly soaked in her son’s hot piss. She felt her hair becoming drenched, then matted to her skull. She aimed his cock so he pissed over every inch of her face, and all the time her cunt was rippling with the most intense orgasm ever.
With a cry, she opened her lips and closed them to the head of her son’s cock. She tasted the hot piss on her tongue, and pressed her tongue at his piss hole. Her orgasms became tighter yet.
“Ooooo, yes!” she wailed.
She pulled the head of her son’s cock between her lips, drinking at his piss thirstily, swallowing it. She hunched her hips back and forth, and Bobby saw her cunt rippling and clenching with orgasm.
She moaned as she felt the force of his hot piss slowing. She released it from her mouth, but caught the final dribbles over her lips.
“Ohhh, that was crazy!” she moaned, rolling onto her back. “It was insane, but I don’t care! God, Bobby, it was so good!”
She lifted on her elbows, looking down at his face. Her eyes looked feverish, a wicked grin on her mouth. Her hair was plastered to her skull, piss dripping from her face and tits.
“Now I’m your toilet,” she said, half giggling. “My mouth is your toilet from now on.”
“You liked that, Mom?” he asked, hardly surprised.
“Honey, you’ve not only helped me get over being so fucking bashful and embarrassed, you’ve taught me a lot about myself. You’re fucking right, I like having your piss in my face, my mouth. You’re delicious!”
Bobby laughed.
“Now, how would you like to fuck that woman in the parking lot?”
“Just, fine, Mom,” her said.
Sharon got to her feet and fished into her purse. “She gave me her number. Want me to call her?”
Bobby nodded, fingering his cock and balls. Sharon, watching him, pulled her short skirt to her waist and perched on the arm of the couch, her cunt showing, legs wide. Her tits, glistening with his piss, swelled outward, the nipples very hard.
She dialed.
THE END
DN-441 WET DREAM MOM
FOREWORD
Is incest a widespread phenomenon going on behind closed drapes all over the country? In slums, in middle-class neighborhoods and even in the mansions of the wealthy, are mothers lying with sans, fathers with daughters and brothers with sisters? Although we may never have answers to these questions, we do know that this practice has been going on since the beginning of recorded history.
Why we may never know just how common it is, however, is probably due to the fact that very few of those who indulge in this societal perversion will ever admit it. Even those who have firsthand knowledge of the practice must remain in doubt as to how many other people share their strange habit.
WET DREAM MOM is the story of a boy and his mother who live at home by themselves. As you read this novel, you will see how the normal sex drives of each are twisted into a relationship that would bring the wrath of their neighbors down upon them if they ever found out.
The reader is left to decide for himself what the consequences of such a relationship might be — both for them and for society itself.
The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Peggy sat on the toilet, her legs spread as wide as they would go. Leaning against the water tank, she caressed her slender thighs, running her hand up and down the smooth, creamy flesh. Her skirt was bunched about her small waist, and her tits strained at the front of her blouse. The top buttons of her blouse were open, and the creamy swells of her tits appeared ready to overflow the confines of her bra.
She was in her own bathroom, the one adjoining her bedroom. As she struggled with her decision, she carefully avoided looking at the small hole in the wall. On the other side of the wall, she knew her son, Joey, was peeking.
She had noticed the hole immediately a week ago, and at first she had been angry, but not very much. Then she decided it was fun, exciting. If Joey wanted to peek at her, she knew he found interest in her, in her body. Besides, she didn’t have to let him know she was aware. That way, she could do what she wanted, show what she wanted, and Joey would not know she was doing it on purpose.
So far she had not shown him anything but her legs, her panties. When she used the toilet, she made sure her skirt was over her knees. He had seen her tits, she was sure. He had a straight line to the bathtub as well as the toilet. And Peggy bathed every day, sometimes twice a day.
The decision she was trying to make was whether to piss into her panties or not. The fact that her son could see it excited her. The urge to piss into her panties had been with her for a very long time, longer than she cared to remember. Why she wanted to, she didn’t know. Why she had tried before and couldn’t, she knew. It was supposed to be wrong, perverse. But Peggy couldn’t understand why that was so. She couldn’t understand why anything a woman wanted to do in privacy was wrong. If it felt good, and didn’t harm anyone, Peggy just didn’t understand why it was wrong.
Time after time she had tried to piss into her panties, and failed. The urge to piss into her panties came over her at the strangest times, in the moat awkward places, like a shopping mall, a nice restaurant. When the urge struck, she would rush into a bathroom, lift her dress, and try to piss into her panties… and had not succeeded yet.
But she wanted to.
She wanted to piss into her panties badly, so bad it was about to drive her up the wall. Yet, something always held her from doing it. She knew most of it was due to the way she had been raised. Anything sexual had been taboo, forbidden, to her. She could not talk about it to her mother, or anyone. Due to her suppressive home atmosphere, Peggy had not enjoyed fucking. That, she felt, had been the direct cause of her divorce, nothing else.
Her husband had been a passionate man with an erotic mind. He loved to try various positions and methods, and she just couldn’t get into it. She was embarrassed and shy, and her husband seldom saw her completely naked. The few times he had seen her that way, it was because he wore her down with his pleas. Then Peggy would try to hide her blushing face from him, burrowing into a pillow, feeling the shame burn from head to toe. All she felt when he fucked her was a fullness in her cunt, and when he licked her pussy, she felt nothing but embarrassment.
Never had she enjoyed getting fucked.
But she wanted to enjoy it. She wanted to enjoy fucking very much. She fantasized about, imagined herself doing outrageous things to her partner, having him doing them to her. Yet, when it came right down to it, Peggy found herself unable to do them.
Peggy had come before; she knew what it felt like. It felt wonderful, terrific, fantastic.
> But it happened only once, and never again. She had been in high school, sitting at her desk, trying to finish her test. She had to piss, and piss badly, but it was the rule no one left the class room once a test was underway. She had sat miserably, her thighs squeezing tightly, hoping she could hold it until she could get into the restroom.
She failed.
She had pissed into her panties.
Not much, just a few hot dribbles, enough to drench the crotch other nylon panties, make the insides of her thighs wet.
Feeling her face burn with embarrassment, Peggy had frozen in her seat.
The piss was hot on her inner thighs. Her eyes had closed as she felt a strange tremor passing about her crotch, and then something happened that sent ripples of delicious pleasure up and down her flesh. She had to press her knuckles into her mouth to keep from screaming, it felt so good. It was only later that Peggy realized she had experienced an orgasm for the first time. But when it happened all she could do was sit there stiffly, blushing furiously, hoping desperately no one noted her. The orgasm had been very powerful, so powerful it squeezed the lips of her young cunt and held back the threatened flood of pus. The unexpected orgasm was the only thing that stopped her from pissing all over herself.
Fortunately she had not wet her dress, and the test was hcr last class of the day. She had rushed home, burst through the house and practically run to her room. She had stripped her wet panties off, putting on a fresh pair. She then stared at her worn panties on the bed, and felt the compulsion to hold them against her face. Rubbing the piss-wet crotch about her cheeks and chin, Peggy felt very strange things happening to her body and mind. Her cunt twitched and sucked inward, her clit starting to throb again, and she wondered if she would feel that delicious pleasure once more. But something stopped it from happening.
She had felt ashamed of herself that day, regarding the incident as something wicked, something not to be done.
She never again thought about it until after her divorce, and once she allowed it to surface, the urge to piss into her panties came back, too.
Time after time she tried to repeat the incident, but found it next to impossible. She didn’t know why, but she kept trying, sensing that would be the only way she could come.
When she became aware of the small hole in the wall, her anger lasted only briefly. The fact that her son had made it there with the hopes of seeing her naked made her feel good. It almost made her feel good enough to come. At first she wouldn’t even lift her skirt and tried to keep her arms over her shapely tits when bathing, always conscious of the hole, of her son peeking in at her. By slow stages, she had come to the point where she was now sitting on the toilet with her legs wide, the crotch of her panties showing, allowing her son to see.
She wondered if his cock was hard, how big it was, if he played with his cock while peeking at her. The idea that her son jerked off watching her was exciting. She had seen her husband, in frustration at her lack of her cooperation, jack off, and she found it fun to watch. But she couldn’t bring herself to let her husband know that.
Gazing down her body, Peggy saw the teasing bulge of her cunt inside her panties. The thick mat of pussy hair made that bulge. She could see the slit of her cunt outlined by the tight panties and hoped her son could see it too. Just in case, she shifted her hips a bit, turnig more toward the hole in the wall. Her cunt was juicy, very juicy now, hot and throbbing with a very pleasant sensation. Moving her palms up and down her thighs, she wondered how she could sit here doing this with her son watching through the hole, and not be bold enough to do it openly before him. Why could she fondle herself this way, knowing Joey was watching, yet feel so shy and embarrassed? It didn’t make sense to her, but it felt good.
Joey was indeed watching his mother.
His cock was very hard, his fist sliding back and forth. He found the view of his mother’s pantied cunt exciting. He could see the shadow of her pussy hair, the slit of her cunt as the tight panties pulled into it. He fought to remain silent, not wanting her to catch him. He thought all the time about his mother, of her body, how she looked naked, what he would love to do with her.
Fucking his mother was his biggest fantasy. He wanted to fuck her more than any girl he knew and there were plenty of them.
He had caught brief flashes of girls’ thighs, and a few times their panties, but they never excited him like his mother did. He loved to peek in at her even when she had her skirt about, her knees, listening to her pissing into the water, the tinkling sound musical and exciting.
Watching his mother caress her long, slim thighs, he hoped she would show her cunt to him. This was the first time she had touched herself, and his pulse raced, his young balls aching and full. He longed to touch her thighs with his own hands, feel the smoothness of her skin, to cup her cunt and rub it.
Peggy made a soft whimpering sound as she dragged her fingers almost into her crotch. She closed her eyes, pretending Joey was in the bathroom with her, watching, his cock jerking with desire. She was seeping juices copiously, more than ever before. Her hips trembled as her hands came close to her crotch. She wanted to rip the crotch of her panties away, to let her son see her hairy cunt.
Yet, she restrained herself.
What she wanted more than anything was to piss in her panties, even if her son was watching. She wanted to piss and feel that ecstasy she had felt so long ago. Somehow, coming off was now associated with pissing in her panties.
She sat upright, but left her legs wide open. She strained, trying to piss. It would be easy to piss if she removed her panties, but that wouldn’t serve her purpose.
She felt a small dribble, and her body flushed with heat. Her face turned pink, but not with shame. She was managing to do it. She pissed a bit more, feeling her panties become wet. Her cunt was pulsating as if on fire now, and she strained harder than ever.
A stream of piss flowed out of her cunt, soaking her panties, and dripping into the toilet. She lifted her head up, eyes closed with pleasure, her lips slightly parted.
Joey, although his mother was sitting uptight, was surprised. He could hear her pissing, and she still had her panties on. He had to dig his knuckles into his mouth to choke back the gasp of surprise.
Peggy wasn’t thinking of her son now. The gush of hot piss was flowing freely for the first time. Her body shivered with pleasure, her thighs and ass cheeks turning wet with piss. Her clit pressed hard at her panties, throbbing so deliciously. She felt the swelling of that long remembered orgasm, and her hands flew to her tits. She dug her fingers into her firm tits hard, grunting in a thick sound.
Her cunt suddenly convulsed, and she squealed, unable to hold back the sound. She came tightly, the lips of her cunt squeezing with fiery spasms. Her body shook as she came, and she kept squealing, kept digging brutally at her tits.
On the other side of the wall, with his eye pressed to the hole, Joey pounded his cock frantically. He didn’t know his mother was coming, but he knew she was pissing into her panties, and that excited the hell out of him. His cock was painfully hard, and his balls ached. He pumped his tight fist furiously, the head of his cock brushing the wall. Like his mother, he couldn’t stop the grunt of pleasure when he came. The creamy come juice gushed out of his cock and splattered the wall, running down it thickly. His vision turned hazy as he came, and when it cleared, he saw his mother was on her feet, her hands under her skin. He watched her strip the wet panties off and toss them into the nearby laundry hamper.
Peggy made sure her skirt remained down as she removed her panties, her body still tingling and glowing with her second orgasm of her life. She felt the impulse to stick her tongue out at the wall, knowing her son would see if she did. Instead, she turned and left the bathroom.
When Joey made sure his mother wasn’t watching him, he sneaked into her room and pulled her panties from the hamper. They felt wet in his hands, and he brought them to his face. He smelled of them touching his lips to the wet crotch. A soft moan came
out of his throat as his cock twitched.
What he didn’t know was his mother had been watching him closely, and found herself excited to see him kiss the crotch of her panties. When Joey stuffed her panties into his pocket she turned and rushed away so he wouldn’t catch her watching him.
Peggy stayed in a state of arousal the rest of the afternoon and evening, peeking at her son from lowered lashes. She looked at the front of his pants, seeing his cock and balls bulge. She had never really noticed him in that way until now.
It was shortly before bedtime when she suddenly remembered she had not put on a fresh pair of panties. She was naked under her skirt and had been ever since pissing in those panties. For a long moment her face was warm. That was unlike her, she knew. Never had Peggy gone without panties, even in her nightgown. Nice girls simply did not go naked, she had been told all her life. Nice girls wore panties all the time, even in bed. Nice girls changed their panties two or three times a day. Nice girls… nice girls… Peggy had heard that so much as she grew up, she wanted to throw up when she heard those words.
Peggy didn’t want to be a nice girl.
Peggy wanted to come.
She wanted to come all the time.
Here she was, thirty-one years old, and had only experienced orgasm twice in her life.
It just wasn’t fair, she told herself.
Anger grew inside her, anger at her inability to come, anger at being told she was a nice girl. She was so angry, she was about to yank her skirt high, throw her slim legs wide apart, show her hairy cunt to her son. She wanted to reveal her pussy, have him look at it, tell him to fuck her, to make her come. She was ready to beg him — or anyone — on bended knee, to make her come.
And she might have done just that, but Joey had stood up, stretching. She stared at his hips as they jutted out, seeing his cock and balls bulging inside his tight jeans.
“I’m gonna go to bed, Mom,” he said. “I’m awfully sleepy.”
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