Corrupting Mom Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2
Mama's panties
I've jerked off seven times during the early morning hours while sleeping and in all of them the semen jets have come out abundantly while I imagine my mother on her knees, in the middle of my legs, her pink mouth attached to my glans, her pointed nails combing the pubes of my testicles, and her free hand massaging the shaft of my penis.

When I close my eyes, I can still see her prosaic gestures, vicious. A horny mother giving a blow job to her offspring. The tip of her tongue polishing my length from top to bottom and from bottom to top. Above all, I can see her flesh globes floating and bobbing beneath her breast, her nipples rubbing against the bed. She glorious, sensual, and majestic, with her face smeared with my semen after ejaculating on her.

And the fantasy ends, only to mount new ones. And in all of them, Mom is the protagonist of my lusts and perversions. From my dirty mind that never stops coming up with morbid situations.

I have a normal-sized member, perhaps average. At least when I had sex with my girlfriends none of them complained about my performance because they all seemed as inexperienced as I was. But it's not the same to screw a little girl as it is to screw an experienced woman, and that's why I've never dared to insinuate myself to any of them. Mom, on the other hand, doesn't resemble those silly girls who are scared of everything and with whom I've been.

Judging by what I saw in the shower, Mom now seems to me a repressed but very hot woman who knows how to enjoy her sexuality.

‘How do you have me, Mom... how did you get it done?’

I haven't even been able to sleep well.

I don't know what to do with the impurities of my mind. This isn't right. This isn't normal. I can't be massaging my penis while thinking about my mother in such an obscene way. So grotesque and sick. It's embarrassing to think about what I'm thinking, but it's inevitable to control it. This is too much for me. It's beyond me. Each time I think about this my blood pressure makes me dizzy. My heart beats very strongly and I feel palpitations.

It's your mother, Tito, it's your mother, you have to calm down.

But it's like closing my eyes and hearing her moaning again like the actresses in the porn movies I sometimes watch.

***

It's 4 am. I've heard some cries coming from Mom's room. Yes. I'm sick. I want to hear them fuck, Dad and her. I want to know how their moans are when she's got it stuck. Their screams when her pussy eats a cock of meat. When a man attacks her with intensity. When she comes on top of a real dick.

But they're not having sex. The cry must have been about something else. My theory is correct. Dad doesn't touch her, why doesn't he touch her? How long haven't they made love?

If she weren't my mother. If I were Dad. God! We wouldn't sleep all night from being screwing. She deserves it, she's really good. She's beautiful. She has needs. She needs a man. Unfortunately, that man can't be me because I'm her son.

Still, I continue to think about Mom in an irreverent way. Obscenities won't leave my mind. I imagine her on all fours. Her big ass facing my face. She's spreading them apart so I can see her holes. And in front, her breasts hanging down, and me behind with my erect member pointing at her slit. Is her vulva very hairy? Will she shave it off? It seems impossible to me that my mother would dare to depilate herself like Dad.

***

More than a week has passed since the unforgettable episode where I found Mom self-pleasuring in the bathtub with a kitchen utensil handle. And I, as a vile degenerate, have continued to masturbate in her honor and my insatiable desires to spy on her again have multiplied.

I'm not the same since that day. I can't see her the same way anymore. It's not like I've lost respect for her or anything, but I feel like the bubble of proteced and showed me as a superior, celestial, impenetrable, protective, and maternal being now it has burst, and instead of seeing the woman who gave me life and raised me, and whom I remember with tenderness since I had reason, now I see the woman capable of fornicating like a vicious one with any man, even with me, her son. In my fantasies I see a woman capable of sucking my penis until she chokes on my testicles if she wants to and drinking my orgasms when she's thirsty. A lustful woman capable of kissing me and tracing my mouth with her tongue. And that's the bad thing, I don't want to feel anything about this. It's not normal. I wouldn't know how to control myself if something slips out of my hands. For me it's like she's leaving being my mother to become a beautiful, desirable woman: simply my father's wife. It's like she wants me to call her nothing, but then I think and the morbid feeling I get knowing I'm her son and she's my mom surpasses me. I have an unhealthy mind, I know, but it's not my fault. I can't control it. Even she notices a difference in me, I know because she's told me. She notices a difference even if she never referred to my erection when we hugged and felt my hard lump rubbing against her pubic area. Thank God the next day everything went back to normal and she didn't refer to that embarrassing scene. The bad thing is I never understood what Tranquilo... mi bebé, esto suele pasar. means. What usually happens? That my 18-year-old son gets hot seeing her dressed in such a sensual way? Or that at my age it's normal for me to get hard over anything? I don't understand. And on top of it all I'm going crazy thinking about seeing her again like that day. Feeling that transgressive sensation of spying on my own mother. It makes me imagine seeing her naked again. Delighting in her majestic figure. Tracing with my attentive pupils her voluptuousness. Admiring her bright, white flesh and female organs in sight of my eyes.

I want to feel the adrenaline from looking at her through the bathroom door crack even though I know it could be discovered by her. That adrenaline is only well seen by sinners.

I want to see her naked, stretching her nipples, biting her lips, sticking out her tongue to savor an invisible penis. I want to see her touching herself again. Caressing her pubic area. Opening the wet folds of her vagina. Contemplating how her orifice opens and drools.

What the hell am I thinking.

If it weren't for the mini-videos and photographs I keep jealously stored on my mobile phone, which I took that night, I would think it was all a dream. Or a nightmare where the porn actress is my mother.

I swear I thought about it a lot before falling into temptation again, but I don't care to risk it once more. I've even studied her routines to know the days she takes a bath at the hour when I found her last time.

Apparently, she always showers at 11 pm, when we're all already home, just before going to bed with Dad, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when she gets in the tub around 7:45 pm, which is when she usually arrives sweaty from Zumba.

It makes sense. She's very clean and can't stand feeling sweaty. It also makes sense that those two days are when she decides to masturbate, taking advantage of being alone at home.

And this Thursday night I want to do it again. I've proposed going to guitar lessons with my Uncle Fred and returning at the same hour as last time. With luck, I'll succeed, and I'll see her naked, and... Hell!

Sugey - my dad says to Mom during lunch. He's stuck in cement pants and smells strongly of sweat. Mom, who is very understanding, doesn't say anything. She's used to seeing him and smelling him like that. It makes me sick.

He prepares my Los Astilleros uniform for Saturday because at 5 pm we have friendly match with the Campestres in the league of veterans, at the Olympic Stadium in Saltillo, if you want to come.

The football team of the Astilleros represents our neighborhood, and the Campestres are the natural enemies of the Astilleros, from a more central part of the city. Dad is a soccer fan, faithful follower of Maradona, Puma Borja, and all those of his generation. American at heart and with a couple of trophies on the shelf in the living room that he won when he was young.

Currently, every time he can play with his team, which twenty years ago he destroyed hard, even if nowadays, at least the league of veterans, the only thing they usually win are rheumatism in their legs.

'I'm glad you're taking up the team and doing sports again,' mom says, serving food.

Those shorts again. Although they seem the same, they're not. These ones too are white, marking his ass, his beautiful legs, even the seam that divides his buttocks, but they have texture.

'You need a good tackle, Lorenzo, since the beers have given you a nice belly.'

Dad has my height, but he's fat unlike my slimness, and his few friends face make me wonder what crap mom saw in him when she met him, being 10 years younger than him and with that beautiful face and blue forest eyes.

'You're going to start now, Sugey. This belly is from happiness,' dad laughs, biting into chunks of mango chicken.

'Because on the street you eat anything,' mom teases, sitting at the small table and starting to carve her meat elegantly. I look at her lips, thick, pink, and imagine them sucking my penis.'

I'm surprised that you've deigned to come to dinner today, Lorenzo, since later when the meat is so cheap, I buy more and only we eat your sons and me, and then you don't want to eat your portion afterwards because you don't like cooking outside of the day.

Lucy laughs like a fool. My sister is a very beautiful girl. She inherited her beauty from my mother and even the color of her voice. I only hope that when she's older she'll also inherit her breasts and ass, which is very small for now, although it looks like a doll from the shelf, with its red cheeks, blue eyes, and soft mouth. The color of her hair is more golden than Mom's, which makes her look very tender. If only Lucy were less odious, she would be perfect.

Well, woman, you're going to yell at me later. I came today because I had to make a purchase at Don Paco's Hardware Store and I passed by the house.

It's not yelling, just saying what it is. In advance, let me know when you're coming to eat, so I don't waste time making your favorite dishes and buy less meat.

Yes, yes, my dear Sugey, yes - Dad gives her a kiss off -. For now, get me ready for Saturday and prepare yourself if you want to come.

Mom half-smiles. I like it when she smiles. Her beautiful face lights up. The blue of her iris shines more and her cheeks turn red. My mother is too beautiful to think of her simply as my mother.

I can't, honey - Mom excuses herself -. I'll be delivering 150 chocolate cupcakes and some nutella-filled pastries for a children's party on Saturday.

Don't make me responsible if you kill someone with that much sugar, eh, Sugey? - Dad says in a mocking tone, while he keeps eating like a pig.

Shut up, grumpy one, since now you're worried about the sugar in my pastries when you spend your time eating junk on the street. You should know that all my recipes are healthy and gluten-free.

Bla, bla, bla - Dad complains.

Mom looks at me and we both laugh. I love our complicity.

Scold your daughter, Lorenzo - Mom says a minute later, who is right in front of me with her white blouse where her bra shows -. She's been doing the Keto diet and almost fainted this morning.

What kind of diet is that? ketogenic diet based on consuming the minimum of carbohydrates.

—And that's bad?

—Of course it's bad, Lorenzo! Luciana isn't old enough for those things. She's still developing. Her body is still forming. She's thinner than a broomstick, but I'm sure some novice told her she looked fat and now she's almost anorexic.

Lucy shoots a disdainful look at Mom and I give her a nudge, taking advantage of the fact that she's to my right.

—How did you say novice? —my dad asks, scandalized, with his hand in his mouth—, Did Lucy get permission from someone?

—Sugey lies! —my sister responds, sticking out her tongue at Mom, who smiles and shakes her head.

—How did you say novice, Lucy? —Dad repeats, incredulous that his spoiled daughter is acting so recklessly.

Mom slaps the table to get everyone's attention and says:

—We're talking about her bad eating habits, Lorenzo, not novices!

—Don't pay any attention, Dad, —my rebellious sister responds, already with her 16 springs—, Sugey also did it before.

—What did she do? —Dad asks, more bewildered than before—, Did she have novices?

Mom rolls her eyes.

—The keto diet, Dad! Sugey did it before, I saw her.

—You're driving me crazy both of you!

—Let's all just calm down and eat, —Mom sentences—. I'll take care of this nonsense. You, Lucy, don't call me Sugey, I'm still your mother.

—Ash! —my sister complains.

—And without complaining, —Mom warns—. Let's eat quietly, so we don't disturb my poor handsome son from eating in peace.

Mom gets up, puts her breasts almost in my face and bends down to give me a kiss.

Luckily I'm sitting down and no one has noticed the bulge that has grown in my pants.

My dad sees Mom's affection towards me and blows his nose. uniform of the Astilleros, Sugey? --she asks when mom comes back to her seat.

She smiles from afar and sends me a kiss. She returns it as if she were a girlfriend who wants to please her boyfriend. Or maybe she's just behaving like a mother who loves her son and I'm seeing things that aren't there.

--Yes, man, yes. What I won't be able to do is accompany you. I'll tell you I have a lot to do on Saturday.

--I'll help you decorate the cupcakes, ma --I offer my help to my sensual progenitor, speaking for the first time.

Dad grumbles, slaps his hand on the table, and looks at me furiously.

--You'd rather stay decorating cupcakes with mom instead of coming with me to the game, Tito. That's not for men, you're a coward, maybe you'll turn out gay.

--Lorenzo, God, leave my son alone --mom scolds him, furious. Lucy teases me.-- At least someone cares about helping me in this house.

--Tito is a man, Sugey, he shouldn't be messing around with the kitchen making cupcakes. I've already been disappointed that my only son doesn't like football. And now I have to bear the cross of him preferring to decorate cupcakes with his mother instead of coming with me to watch it play in a men's sport.

--Ugh. Every time he gets into this plan, I get annoyed. I take the word and say:

--I'd rather stay helping mom, since Lucy leaves on Saturdays with her friends instead of collaborating with her.

--Don't stick your nose in my business, bitter --my sister refutes me, sending sparks from her blue eyes.-- If you want to help Sugey with the cupcakes, go ahead. I'll go out with my friends to a café.

--As you please, my love --dad says to his girl.

--Why don't you force her to come with you to watch the football and you're so intense with me, dad? --I complain about the injustices of his behavior as a father.

--Because she's a woman, and it's normal for her to prefer going out with her friends to have tea than coming with me. Meanwhile, it's supposed that You're the man and you should like masculine things, not that 'decorating cupcakes' with mom.

—No supposed to be anything— I defend myself —I'm a man who likes to help mom, even if it means 'decorating cupcakes.'

Said this, I get up and leave the table. When Dad gets all worked up about humiliating Tito, nobody can take it.

—Come here, you pesky kid... —he yells at me.

—Leave him alone, Lorenzo —mom defends me —You'll be happy soon. You start telling him off and won't let him eat in peace.

—No child, that good-for-nothing guy is already a little man. But he's still got his hands on your pants and sooner or later will end up wearing yours.

***

I did it, geez, and I feel fire in my body again.

I acted like I was leaving and like I was going to guitar lessons with Uncle Fred. I made myself look silly for 15 or 20 minutes and then went back home with a pounding heart.

I entered quietly, much quieter than the first time when I even slammed the door shut. It's weird that now I'm so nervous and my movements are so cautious, considering the first time, not even with all my commotion, did my mom notice my presence.

Or maybe she did?

Of course not. She would have scolded me.

With such silence, I heard the shower from the vestibule. She was taking a bath, and just knowing it made my cock harden. I climbed up the stairs step by step until I reached the dimly lit hallway, which I took as a sign in my favor since I wouldn't be seen from inside.

The extra luck I found was when I heard music coming from the bathroom with moderate volume on the inside. This time I could camouflage my sounds if anything happened. The other time there was no music, but it suited me that this time there was.

My forehead sweat did its thing during the time my hand grasped the door handle and I delayed deciding... spin her around. I was incredibly nervous. If the droplets from the showerhead were audible falling onto the floor, it meant she wasn't inside the tub anymore. I deduced this and my heart accelerated.

When I gave the handle a complete turn, my hand was trembling. It barely took opening it slightly to find myself face to face with a spectacle for my eyes.

We didn't have a partition that divided the shower area from the toilet, only a plastic curtain that, I'm sure, no one rushed to take a shower because we had the habit of going to the downstairs bathroom when someone was taking a shower upstairs.

We never allowed two people to be in the bathroom at the same time. Among other reasons, it was very uncomfortable.

That's why I could see her completely, naked from head to toe, like a wonderful mirage through the steam that rose from the hot water falling onto her beautiful body, mom's.

She was looking towards the small vertical window on the top of the shower, which provided natural light during the day, and so she was facing away from me, with her butt pointing at me.

In that spectacular position for my eyes, my mother's round buttocks were offered to me like a cocktail to a starving beggar. Her voluptuousness left me frozen and perplexed. My cock hardened inside my pants and became so stiff it caused pain.

They were bigger, more abundant, and firmer than I believed, and at her age, she was more than perfect. I barely managed to contain a groan when I saw the marvelous scene of water jets coming out of the showerhead, flowing between her curves, putting me on high gear.

I can't explain the burning sensation in my heart pounding inside my chest as I watched that great spectacle. She moved while washing herself, and her enormous Booty vibrated above. The water soaking her, the abundant foam joining between her feet. My member began to quiver.

Her hair was sticking to her back, and Just when she put herself in profile, leaving her in a lateral position, half-facing me, her prominent breasts appeared before my eyes. Like the last time, those plump tits seemed to float in the air. Her nipples were suddenly covered in foam, but then they remained bare as the water revealed them.

I couldn't believe how beautiful and large they were.

At my age, I've only been intimate with three girls, since I'm a bit shy, two from my batch and the third was five years older than me: but none of them had the proportions of my mother. What tits! What an ass! What hard and firm legs to support such a body!

Mom is 43 years old, a milf made and right, and yet her body curves, thanks to Zumba, are much more defined than those of a girl my age. There's no one who can compare to her. Maybe I'm just not worldly enough, but I've never seen tits and an ass like that in person.

The music by Edith Márquez matched the scene I was watching:

Caress me. With crazy hands drive me mad... With nails and smiles love me

The water falling on her naked body and her plump buttocks bouncing with each of her movements as she washed herself.

Acaress me. And drown in your arms. Take care of me. And kill me slowly...

She put her fingers in her crotch, and began to moan.

Acaress me. As soft as the air love. As strong as a hurricane

She trembled with joy, amazement, and ardor.

Dominate me like a lover. Slowly, constantly.

The way she stretched her nipples afterwards, hiding her fingers in her crotch, and the moans that the song tried to hide, drove me crazy.

I listened to the lyrics again and told myself it wasn't normal for her to caress herself like this while listening to that. It was as if she were illusory, enamored? Mom had a lover? But where?

Like the last time, I took some photo and video recordings, and now I made sure the videos lasted more.

When she let out a prolonged moan that reminded me of the whores in porn videos, I finished with my dick swimming in my own semen.

Disturbed, dizzy and hot, I escaped from home and started walking around the block like the last time.

***

Now it's almost midnight. Everyone must be asleep. My heat is so scorching that I had to get into the shower.

Even though my intention was to relax, I think I'm getting more agitated. Mom's black panties are there, hanging from the water level adjusters on the faucet.

I shiver and shake. I don't remember ever leaving them hung like that. Is it because she knew I'd be taking a shower? Did she leave them for me?

Impossible. My madness was leading me to deduce stupid things. But it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is what I see. They're black, with lace, tiny, and imagining that small garment placed on her fat ass makes me sick.

I put the panties in my nose and realize they smell like her sex; they smell like her moisture. It has a sticky patch that lights up its center. She's been getting wet all day thinking about something or someone, and I wonder again if she has an affair.

Can't be true!

Why else would a 43-year-old woman get wet when she has no sexual activity with her husband? What makes a mature woman touch herself in the shower when she thinks there's no one home? I don't know. I don't want to think that another man is screwing her. I don't know if I could handle it.

But then?

For now, it doesn't matter. All that matters are her panties, small for the size of her ass. And I pass my tongue over the center of the fabric, where before it was rubbed against her wet vagina. I lick the stain and feel the taste of a woman. A dirty mother. A mother with incontinence sex.

Then I put them in my nose and inhale.

So that's how a mother smells

What a delight, damn... what a slut delight is swallowing that aroma of a dirty mother! member and I pull it. Tighten the stem with my fingers. I'm very hard. Very horny. And hard like a rock.

Thinking that the aroma emanating from her black underwear is what it would be to have my nose and mouth in her juicy vagina, I come, and I do so just in time for my orgasm to contain itself between the seams of mom's underwear.

I finish agitated, almost dizzy. It can't be possible such obscenity from my part. So much madness. My mind is so sick.

But everything is done. I've seen my mother naked, with her breasts and ass exposed. And now I'm masturbating again, and I come on her panties, which are stained with white streaks.

I wait to relax before taking a bath. Later, I'll do with the underwear what I did with my boxer last time, washing them so there's no trace of my orgasm.

But then I breathe, close my eyes, and while I clean my cock with mom's underwear. Something terrible happens unexpectedly.

Someone has opened the bathroom door and I'm left with my heart in a string. I look at the entrance and surprised and dead of shame, I look at her, and she looks at me. And it's all a slutty madness from which I don't know how to get out.

—God Almighty! —my mom says, covering her face with her hands.

And what my mother sees in the bathroom must be the most monstrous thing a mother can find: my cock standing up, and her black underwear rolled up to my glans...and the worst...
...soaked in semen.CONTINUEMore chapters of this series and other stories are already available on my site.new accountofPatreon