Don't cum in your mom.  Simple rule, yeah?  That's what I thought.
It started innocently enough.  Well, depends on what you call innocent.  She was a little slutty.  I was a little pervy.  One night she walked in on me jacking.  The milf on my screen looked a lot like her.  She was all apologetic and stuff, but took her sweet time leaving.  And maybe, maybe, she looked a little more excited than embarrassed.  
I ended up rubbing it out to the thought of pulling down her panties and stuffing her cunt.  
That was a bad idea.  I couldn't shake those thoughts all through the next day.  Kept getting a boner 'round her.  And that night, and the next, and next and next and next.  I tried to get myself going on something else, anything at all.  Nothing got even close.  So I came back around to packing her full, rutting her good.  And then something better, so much better - emptying my balls into her.
But she was my mother.  I was her son.  You don't cum in your mom.
She came in again a few days later.  Same time, pretty much.  Definitely felt on purpose.  She didn't back out quick, either; just stared at my cock.  Couldn't blame her.  I wasn't hiding anything.  Hell, I had the same vid up, doing my thing in good view of the door.  Same as every night since that first.
It didn't take her another week.  The very next night she came in right at the start.  I didn't even need to stroke myself up.  Just sitting there naked, watching her staring at me, showing off my sheath and balls to her: that got me hard.  Her hand went down her pants and stayed there.  When I started jacking off, the bouncing in her pants followed along.  Soon she was red and panting, and I had myself flaring for her.  Plenty of time to change her mind, but she just kept that pervy grin on.  So I aimed my spout her way and rubbed my flare 'til that made me shoot.  She barely even flinched.  My load got all over her pants.
She left right after.  I didn't even know if she'd gotten off.  Should've asked.
Next day was Saturday.  I woke up to condoms on my bed.  Subtle.  I didn't wait for our routine, just grabbed the lot and went to find her.
She was on the couch with all the curtains shut.  I hadn't put anything on, just a grin up top and a stiff one down below.  She spread her legs - no pants, no panties, just soaked fur and a stain on the cushion.  It smelled so sweet.
I got down and sniffed her, licked her.  She was fuzzy, sopping, reeking of heat.  And more than a bit loose.  Maybe she'd been working herself wide.  Maybe I'd done that coming out of her.  Either way, couldn't complain.  Hell, I liked her like that.  Fucking animal, I was.
And so was she.  The more I went at her, the more she puffed up, 'til it was hanging full out of her fuzz.  I gave it one more good lap, bottom to top, then pulled myself up to bring us snout to snout.  She was panting.  I licked her nose, painted it with her own slick.  She smelled it, lapped at it, tasted it.  Her eyes got big.
My tip found her spade.  She made noises.  I put my weight onto her, slipped it in, sunk it deep.  Then started rutting.  She humped back, trying to match.   We went hard and fast and sloppy.  I wasn't good at it.  She didn't care.  Just cramming her with my cock did her plenty.  Did me, too.
She called me her boy.  I called her mom.  She told me how big I'd grown.  I told her how hot she was.  She asked if I wanted a sibling.  I couldn't remember putting on the rubber.
But she was so wet, so eager.  My balls warmed with her slick.  She was getting tight; some of that her, lotta that me - I was flaring, fast.   Don't cum in your mom.  Don't cum in your mom.  I tried to pull out.  But that made me itch so bad, I couldn't not scratch it.  And when I did, when I'd hilted her again, that scratching and squeezing of my flare felt so good, so right.  I put my hands to her shoulders - to pry myself off?  To hold her down while I finished?  She hugged me back, held me in.  My spout kissed her pucker.  She kissed me.  I pressed my tongue to hers.  She tucked her legs over mine.
Too far, too late.  Hips jerked, shaft swelled.  I was cumming.  She felt it, howled, curled and clamped around me.  It came up my breeder right to the base of my flare, and for an instant I thought I could hold it there.  Then that first spurt split my spout, and all of it came out: 	thick shot after thick shot, each on top the last, more and more and more until that last, dry twitch.  
She let out a long, dripping sigh.  It took her a while to let our embrace go, and even longer for me.  I was still in her, mostly hard; her insides were even wetter and warmer than a moment before.  My cheeks burned.  I had to see, to know.  Pushed back, pulled up.  My shaft slid out, smeared all the way down with my spunk, and its still-oozing tip drew a trail to the big gob slowly squeezing up from in her cunt.  All of it had gone inside.  I looked up.  She was staring at it, too.  
I started to make some sort of stupid excuse, don't even remember what.  She asked if I wanted to do it again.  My mouth hung mid-word.  She gave a fangful grin, said there wasn't anymore reason to be careful, that another wouldn't make it any more complicated.  We could do whatever we wanted.  
That was wrong, she was wrong, I was wrong, what we'd done was so fucking wrong.  I shoulda stopped it there, shoulda told her no more, shoulda blamed it on my horny, her heat, something, and never spoke of it again.  But for all those shouldas back of my head, I couldn't stop staring at that creampie.  Don't cum in your mom.  But I'd done it, and she'd asked me to do it again, and now I was getting hard for her a second time.  My flare'd not even gone down, like it knew it'd need to plug her with another load.  
I shut my jaw and pressed my tip again into her spade.  She asked if I loved her.  It popped through, and the rest slid in.  She asked if I loved how wrong this was.  I humped again and again, made my breeder swell in her.  She asked if I loved the risk of fucking her raw.  I hilted hard, held it in, kept my flare straining at her bottom.  She asked if I was fucking her raw to get her pregnant.  I called her mom again and again and again, squashed my cumspout to her pucker, shot everything I had right into it.  
And then we were on the floor, and she was on top.  I don't remember how.  She held me down.  I held her breasts.  That did even more for her.  She didn't let me get soft, just rode me like a beast, rocking and rutting hard on my rod, daring me - begging me - to blow another.  
Should've known I wanted it months, maybe years ago, jacking it to so much stuff just like her.  But knowing she wanted it, that was a whole better thing.  
And now I did, now she did, and it felt only natural, more than natural, to pack my bare breeder into her and not even try to pull out.  Her whole belly was wet and sticky.  Mine too.  We stank of sex.  It smelled so right.  
She said I was sick, fucking my mother in her heat.  I told her she was, riding her son's cock 'til he blew.  She asked if that meant I was gonna blow another in her.  I didn't say - I was already cumming.  
She tensed up when she felt it and tried to come down on me.  But I was already there, humped hard up into her, my sloppy balls slapped to her soggy taint.  She breathed in sharp, little gasps.  Her cunt squeezed me even harder.  Years of wanting, of hers, of mine, all coming out at once.  She panted my name.  My flare spat deep into the mess I'd left stewing in her, then pumped a whole 'nother load right up into her heat.  
When it was all over, when I'd flopped back, she got up off of me and let my cock slide out.  Her legs shook, her crotch was soaked, and her cunt drooled out a long, thick strand of my spunk.  Mine.  She stepped over me, gave me a close show of her swollen, stuffed, half-gaped cunny, and let that honey dribble from her into my waiting maw.  
It was maddening.  Slightly-sweet, strongly-salty, musky-rich.  The taste of mounting, mating, cumming in my mom.  Breeding her.
She turned 'round to the hall back to our bedrooms.  Her tail bounced, proudly showing off her still-leaking cunt.  I couldn't think of anything but plugging that leak.  
She was barely through the doorway when I caught up, hugged her, poked my flare 'tween her legs and humped.  She reached down and patted my thrusting flare, ran her fingers - two at a time - down her leaking spade to my beading  spout, and then all the way down that.  When she'd got all her fingers glistening with my seed, she brought them to her snout, sniffed them, licked.  The taste made her purr so deep.
Her other hand went down to my flare, held it, rode my humping back and forth and back again.  I reached around her, one hand to her cunt so slick with her and me, the other to her belly filled with my release.  Soft.  Plump.  She shuddered, laid her head back on me, cooed my name.  I licked her neck, her cheek, her snout.  My tongue caught another taste of our mess.  Her heat tasted so much better soaked with my seed.  
She tipped my flare up, pulled it along her suckling spade.  I put my fingers between hers and helped guide it in.  She leaned forward, swallowing more and more of me.  It made her belly pudge, just a little.  I squeezed it and thought of her filling out.  My mom, fat with my whelps.  Shoulda been disgusting.  Only made me harder.  
I slid in and out so easy.  Loosened from three good ruttings, slicked with three good loads.  But her cunt still clutched me, my shaft, my flare - rubbed them, scratched them just the way they wanted.  I gave it back to her hard and fast and greedy.  And she was greedy too, panting, moaning, rutting back just as hard and fast.  I was gonna cum again, it was gonna be in my mom again, and I wanted it always like that - every load, every time, whenever I came, all of it in her.  
She gasped, whined, shuddered head to toe.  Her legs gave, she fell against me, but I had her 'round the middle, held her up, pushed her to the wall.  And kept rutting.  My rod flared wide as it could, soaked in the heart of her clutching heat.  She was so hot.  Inside and out.  Mine to take.  Mine to give.
It shoulda took longer.  It didn't.  I told her I was cumming.  She squealed, told me to shoot it in, told me to knock her up.  I did, put her to the wall, pumped my claim up into her, rope after rope, hot and thick and potent, all of it for her fertile belly.  She hung on the wall by elbows and palms, panting ragged.  I clutched her breasts, packed her in above and below, and held her on until every last spurt was out of me and into her.  
We leaned against the wall.  Her cunt drooled out on the carpet.  My cock made its own spill, now given a moment of rest.  I said something about the trail we'd left.  She said she liked the smell.  It reeked of us, of me.  I put my paw to her spade, made her shiver all over.  Pushed my fingers into the slack, rubbed them to her nub.  She squirmed, stuttered out my name.  I told her I'd give it to her any time she wanted, as much as she wanted.  And more.  I thought it sounded romantic.  She said she loved that filth coming out of my mouth.  So I put my paw to her snout, drenched in our sin.  She lapped it up.  I was filthy.  As much as her.  
She told me she'd not been taking her suppressants.  I asked if she was still gonna try and stop it.  She told me it was peak heat - my seed would've already taken.  The way she said it, like we were plotting together, it made my cock twitch, got me perking up again.   She saw and grinned, and asked if I wanted to make real sure.  I said we could do it on her bed or mine.  She told me they were both ours now.  
We went to hers.  She laid down and spread wide for me.  Her legs, her belly, the whole of her stank of heat and rut.  I lapped at her pot, her nub.  She squirmed, seeped up more of my cream like an overstuffed pastry.  I crawled on top, kissed her neck and chin and snout.  She opened her jaws for me, and I met her in kind.  We held together, my bulged tip at the swollen lip of her wet, well-bred hole.  
She bloomed heat.  My spout did, too.  I was leaking, after-drool of our last fuck, pre-drool of what was already coming up.  So I sunk it in before any more spilled outside her.  It kept on, faster, seeping more into her, a hot reminder of what I'd done and how good it was gonna feel to do it again.
I tried to go slow.  It was easier to hold the kiss that way, and felt like she was liking that even more.  Maybe I was getting better at it.  At fucking my mom.
But as we went on, it got harder to keep slow.  My flare itched.  My tip burned.  My load wanted out.
I broke the kiss to warn her I was close.  It made her pant harder, louder.  I went a little faster, said I could do it any time.  Her tongue hung out.  She wanted it bad as me.  I told her to say when.
Her hands came up to my cheeks and drew me down.  She whispered to me to do it, to hilt her and cum in her and fill her with my pups.  I packed it all into her, rutted fast, gave her and my cock what they wanted.  Didn't take much.
I was an animal.  So was she.  I had the peg, she had the hole.  It was wrong, it was rotten for mother and son to put them together.  But it felt more wrong, more rotten, to pretend our bits weren't made for each other.  So when it all came up, I was all the way in and pointing it right where it'd do its worst.  Anything less than all of it in her wasn't even a thought.
My shaft bloated, my flare strained in her grip.  I held it back, just a beat, just one, just to make it come harder, shoot deeper.  And then I did.  Jet after jet, hot from my tip right into her pucker.  She made the loudest, lewdest moan I'd ever heard, worse than any smut, but from my mother.  That made my shaft twitch harder, pump out even more.  If she somehow wasn't knocked up before, that made sure she was.
We lay there, me on her, in her, slowly soaking the sheets with the runoff of our breeding.  She would soon be carrying my whelps where she'd carried me.  Would she keep them?  If she didn't, I could breed her again even sooner.  And again.  I wanted to fuck her pregnant every day of my life.  But the thought of her keeping them, getting round and ripe with siblings I'd put in her...  My cock beat in her cunt, drooled out a little more.  She'd have to hide it, we'd have to.  I knew that.  But part of me, a swelling part, wanted to show it off, to tell all the world her litter was my doing.  Mine.  And then, when she'd dropped them out, I'd slide right in and put more in her all over again.  And again.  And again.
Either way, it was too much, too good.  She kissed me.  I kissed her back, made it deep, held her tight.  Mine.  My mother, her son, mated and breeding.  This was our life, ours, wherever we went next.
Don't cum in your mom.  Even once.  You won't stop.