Laundry Room Tryst with Mom
Your mom is in the laundry room when she calls you in to see if you have anything dirty she can throw in to finish a load. You smirk, stripping off in front of her. Her eyes grow wide as she blushes, "I didn't mean right now, what you're wearing!" she giggles. You tease her, standing stark and bare in front of her. "C'mon," you say, "you love looking at me." She smiles wider, her eyes darting towards the kitchen, the stairs that lead to the second floor, where your father's office is. "Your father is home!" she says, incredulous at your brazen behavior. "We can't!" You move closer and you can tell she is desperate. Being in the same house and unable to touch, to grope, to fuck - it's near impossible! See, you've been fucking your mother for years. Ever since you were a senior in high school, when you caught her...well...she blushes at the memory. You love making her blush, making her face and her chest fill with red desire. You want to push her against the wall, peel her tight, tigh jeans from her body and fuck her right there. You want to fuck her the way you used to skip school to do. She pulls you into the laundry room. "Ok," she says, "but we need to be quick!" she leans into you, pulling your hardness towards her, quickly slipping you into her mouth and then rubbing your wet cock against her hot, pulsing cunt. You're both panting in want as you recall to one another some of your favorite moments, favorite fucks, with each other. You feel her pussy, your mother's wet hole, envelop you as she rides you, precariously balanced on a hamper as she shushes you, moans, tries not to get caught!
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