Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

When the pizza arrived, two mediums, one full of meats, peppers, mushrooms, and onions, and the other covered in cheese, we paused our game to plate our food. Mom only ate a slice, and I didn't want the pizza weighing me down, so I only ate three pieces. Dad ate four, two slices from each pizza, saying to me, "Watching your weight?"

"I'll eat the rest later," I said, smiling. "After I work up an appetite. I think I need to do some cardio before bed."

"Don't mess up your sleeping routine," Dad said. "Eighteen or not, you're not going to be up all night and asleep all day this summer."

"If I could, I'd be up all night and all day."

Mom uttered a surprised-sounding laugh.

I smiled.

We ate, and Dad finished his second glass of whiskey, then he said, "I can do one more and be safe."

"Ritch," Mom said, using that drawn-out, disapproving tone.

"I'm not even drunk, baby, don't worry." Dad smiled. "And, since tomorrow is Friday, I'm going to forgo my pills and show you the benefits of marrying an insomniac."

I chuckled.

Mom smiled, and I thought, Will she ask me if she can fuck Dad? The thought made me look at my phone, but Jenna still hadn't texted me. Interesting.

We finished, and Mom cleaned up, though my hard-on had gone down. I had said, "I'll take care of the mess," but Mom countered with, "No, I like doing things for my men." I was one of Mom's men, and the thought made my cheeks warm. We settled back into the couch and watched more TV--as a family. Dad sipped his whiskey and took his pill while I readied myself to molest my mother as my father lay in the room with us.

As soon as Dad had popped his pill and relaxed his head, I put my hand on my mother's thigh below her dress. Her warm skin dampened my palm, and goosebumps rose against my fingers as I swept my touch upward beneath her dress. Mom pressed her ass against me, wiggling it left to right and back again, keeping her buns tight against my crotch. I slid my hand up to her hip and then to her waist, taking her dress with me and leaving her legs exposed beneath the blanket. My hand went backward after this, cupping her left butt cheek before pulling her dress up to her lower back, leaving her butt naked and at the mercy of my touch.

Dad yawned. Mom looked in his direction. Her next breath came deep and heavy as my fingers turned toward the cushions and dipped into her crack. I pulled upward, opening her cheeks and stretching her little asshole, my fingers slipping from her soft crescent when I couldn't pull her ass open any further. Her cheek jiggled and rippled, and I moved my hand over her thigh toward her front.

Pubic hairs, damp with sweat, tickled my palm. I loved Mom's hair. I wanted more of it, a nice triangular bush that felt like a teenager's downy fuzz. I wanted to keep the edges of her mound hairless as well as the cunny meat from her clitoral hood on down. I remembered pictures on the internet of beautiful, blonde Scandinavian goddesses with wisps of blonde hair along their tan skin. Some had tiny hairs near their assholes, shining in the sun like golden threads reflecting the light. That's what I wanted from Mom, just a little bit of hair, so small and spaced far enough apart that I had to search for them under the sunlight if I wanted to see them.

Those thoughts made me cup my mother's pussy harder than I meant to.

Mom's body stiffened, and her face tightened, then she relaxed as I eased my grip on her snatch. Hot, honeyed wetness had coated my fingertips when they had slipped along the line of Mom's inner cunny lips, and they came away sticky with dew and warm to the touch when I pulled them away. I raised my hand up my mother's body, pushed my fingers against her lips, and slid them into her mouth. Her tongue licked my two largest digits clean, and I eased my hand down my mother's body again, going back to collect more of her sweet nectar.

Thick slipperiness greeted my fingers when I pressed my middle and forefinger between my mother's lower lips. I wanted to hear the wet sounds, but even though I couldn't see him, I knew my father was still awake. Mom's breathing had deepened as I played with her, and she kept trying to look at Dad through the arms of our couches. I had my right arm under her neck, and with a little adjusting, I was able to push my middle finger into her mouth. Mom sucked it down with a silent hunger that made my heart flutter and my cock ache. I mimicked the fuck-motions I liked to use when I fucked her mouth with my prick, matching them to my pussy-delving, which sent Mom's ass into a rapid fuck-cycle against my cock. Dad yawned.

Mom reached behind her butt with her left hand and played with my belt and buckle. I needed to stop wearing a belt around the house. There was no need for a belt... unless I wanted to use my belt on my mother. Hmm.... Mom unhooked my belt without making a sound, and she pushed her hand into my pants and boxer briefs, searching for and finding my cock, our bodies moving together, giving each other room to play.

"Umm," Mom grunted as I fingered her deep, but the sound came out low, so low that I barely heard her--I felt the grunt more than I heard it.

I eased up my pussy-stroking before moving my hand from her front to her back, slipping it beneath her forearm and down between her cheeks, cupping her pussy from behind. Mom sighed, as did I as I held her softness in my palm, our sounds covered by the action on the TV. After holding her cunny bulge for nearly a minute, enjoying the heat and tenderness within those pouty folds, I slid my two biggest fingers into her pussy again.

Dad set his glass on the floor. Mom and I paused everything: our movements, our breathing, our caressing, stroking, and fingering. Dad lifted his hand back to his chest and said, "I think I'm about to pass out."

Mom pushed on my mouth-fucking fingers with her tongue, and when I pulled them out, she asked, "Ritch, do you want to go upstairs?"

"Nah," Dad said, yawning. "Maybe"--he yawned--"later."

"Okay," Mom whispered as I slid my fingers into the rubbery-wet friction of her pussy channel from behind.