Les Misérables

I covered her mouth with my hand, feeling her hot, convulsive breath almost scorching my palm. The excitement was immense. But what was much worse—whether due to the two-day drinking binge (despite Mom's angry urgings and reproachful glances) or the forced year of abstinence—today, to Mom's misfortune, I was a slave to my passion.

"Quiet, Mom...," I whispered barely audibly into her ear, "you'll wake everyone up..."

I slowly ran my tongue over her bare shoulders, covered with a light scattering of freckles. The scent of her hair drove me crazy. I don't know, maybe because she was asleep or... I don't know, but her pulsating, tense

loins were wet and hot. Of course, I wanted to believe it was because Mom wasn't at all against what was happening... I didn't move, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. My cock was buried to the hilt in a woman's pussy—a sensation almost forgotten after a year in the army. My hips pressed forcefully into the soft female buttocks. I could feel Mom's ass literally shaking.

With my tongue, I caressed the back of her head and neck, almost purring with pleasure like a cat. No, I didn't move... How could I? One move and I'd explode like a volcano. Though right now, I didn't want anything more.

It was deep night. At the other end of the room, on the sofa invisible in the dark, my aunts were snoring in unison.

Yes, Mom, awakened so rudely and, I think, in a way extremely unexpected for her, of course needed some time to process what I had said. Not right away. But eventually, she grasped the meaning of my words. At any rate, she stopped trying to mumble something into my hand. But I still didn't release her mouth from the captivity of my palm. With my other hand, I slipped the thin strap of her tank top off her shoulder, slid my hand under her body, and gently squeezed her breast. And I almost came... The firm, warm flesh in my palm filled me with languid bliss. My cock, trapped tightly in her womanhood, was simply bursting with excitement. The erection was incredible. With my fingers, I found a large, rough-feeling nipple and began to toy with it.

Mom bucked under me like a spirited filly. But where could she go... Come on, come on... A gnome trying to overcome Goliath? They don't take just anyone into the sports company. She was already a head and a half shorter than me back in ninth grade, with her one meter sixty. But Mom honestly tried with all her might, either to throw me off or to crawl out from under me. I honestly couldn't tell which...

Yes, and it's too late to kick now... Probably, it wasn't too late yet when I, driven by seething lust, almost crawled here, across the whole house, into this room and knelt on the floor over her, admiring her beautiful sleeping face, the alluring curves of her body under the thin sheet. Most likely, it still wasn't too late when, unable to resist, I leaned over her and barely, barely touched her lips with mine. No, I hadn't dared then. And it still wasn't too late to stop me when I carefully pulled the sheet away from her body. When, already aching with desire, I still hesitantly caressed her beautiful breasts, slowly—slowly ran my fingertips over the velvety skin of her shapely hips and slender legs.

But now... Now, it's too late to kick.

When, finally, driven wild by lust and a fierce erection, I silently and furiously tore off my T-shirt and shorts, and without the slightest fear of waking her, flipped her onto her stomach with one rough jerk. She only managed to cry out sleepily in fright, but I was already on top of her, my palm already covering her mouth. With my other hand, I was already pushing her panties aside. Another frightened cry, already muffled by my palm, and my mother's loins knew her own son.

By the way, "Gnome" isn't just a casual term. Our whole family has called her that since school. A small, light, slender, charming gnome. Well, sometimes they call her Thumbelina too. Yes.

And yet, even now she didn't forget that I was her dear, only, and beloved flesh and blood. And so she never once tried to sink her teeth into my palm or, at worst, scratch me with her long, perfectly manicured nails. And this despite the fact that this child, unashamed of his maternal relatives, was forcibly turning his own mother into a whore...

Of course, I tried to calm her in every way. What, am I the lowest scum? Really, well, I'm not going to rape my own mother, am I? Oh, I whispered tender words hotly into her ear, softly caressed her neck and shoulders with my lips and tongue. In general, I was quite gently and delicately leading Mommy to the inevitable... And she kept thrashing and writhing under me, as if in convulsions. Until she completely exhausted herself in utterly useless attempts to free herself and finally ran out of strength.

I couldn't even resist a little pun:

"Mom... Come on... you're all worn out already... You'll need your strength. I haven't had a woman in a year...," — yes, I know that when I'm drunk, my humor is pretty lame. But I just wanted to somehow lighten, you know, the situation with a simple, uncomplicated joke. It didn't work, of course, given precisely the "situation"...

Her body, tense as a bowstring just a second ago, suddenly went limp, relaxed, became pliant.

"I love you, Mommy," I whispered, already going mad with excitement.

And she started sobbing. There it is, the most terrible female weapon. Though, just not today.

"Come to me, my girl..." I whispered, rising slightly over her.

Feeling that she had already surrendered and was now involuntarily obedient to my desires, I wrapped my free arm around her bare shoulder for the convenience of the upcoming lovemaking and thrust my whole body forward like a shell.

For a moment, I thought the sofa beneath us would simply fall apart. I overdid it with the force of the thrust. Though in moments like these, you don't think about anything else. Well, besides the place where your cock is right now. The springs just squealed. As did Mom... And that, of course, is understandable... When you, a living person, without any consent, are taken and impaled on a stake. And my hard-on today was something fierce.

Phew... Good thing I still hadn't removed my hand from her face. With her screams now, she'd definitely wake the whole house, silly... Although... Everyone knows what a village wedding is like? Everyone's been drunk for the second day, listen, the house is shaking from the loud, drunken snoring. My relatives sure know how to party at weddings the old Russian way. You couldn't wake anyone here with a cannon.

And I honestly didn't give a damn about the whole world around me right now. To Mom's sobs and muffled moans, I moved my hips frantically, slapping loudly against Mom's neat buttocks, plunging into the hot loins, already beside myself. I wanted only one thing—to enter her as deep as possible, and again and again and again... To pierce her to the very throat.

It vaguely reached me that under my unrestrained pace, the sofa was desperately creaking, and on top of everything, the back of the sofa was loudly banging against the wall. I myself was barely holding back from shouting out loud from the boundless high.

In the end, already on the edge of ecstasy, I released her mouth—Mom was smart, good thing she immediately figured to bite into the pillow—grabbed her by the shoulders with both hands, forcefully throwing her petite body to meet my thrusts.

The volcano raging inside me had reached its boiling point. With all my might, I fiercely plunged into Mom in a final devastating, frenzied surge of passion, loudly whispering her name and how much I loved her.

I thought I'd never run dry, pumping thick, powerful charges of seed into my mother's womb.

How good I felt right now... The bliss of satisfaction and satiation finally descended upon me for the first time in a whole year... Yes, a living woman, that's not like jerking off in the barracks after porn on video or a magazine with naked women. I was literally floating somewhere in the heavens of rapture, feeling boundless gratitude and tenderness for Mom right now. Well, yes... Yes... I'm an egoist... Yes... Yes, a spoiled egoist.

I lifted myself off Mom, gently kissed the back of her head. I even wanted to turn her head to the side to kiss her lips, but Mom stubbornly resisted, burying her face forcefully in the pillow.

"Mom... Thank you... That was incredible...," that's all I managed. Mentally, I cursed myself with the worst words.

She shuddered her shoulders and I slowly slid off her. What's it like when a two-meter, hundred-kilo guy is lying on you? I lay down beside her and carefully began stroking her hair. It's strange, but I felt no pangs of conscience, not the slightest remorse. Even the opposite, rather. Well, try going a year without a woman... Only jerking off stealthily in secluded corners of the barracks... Right.

After all, am I some stranger to her? And, in general, who in this wide world is closer to her than me? So, in the end, it's quite a family matter. Well, if you think about it, what's really bad here? Mom helped her son relieve sexual tension.

Well, I don't like feeling guilty. And I simply hate apologizing. So, usually, I can convince myself in any situation that I'm right—for one reason or another. In principle, and now...

I'll repeat. Well, after all, I served a whole year in the army, a year stuck on the unit's territory—where would you go on leave when the nearest hamlet is twenty kilometers away. Here's my first vacation, and ahead, there's still a whole year of pulling the army yoke!! And just as I arrived, Mom (so, she's the one to blame for everything, yes!!!) dragged me to the village, to another wedding with relatives. I didn't even want to go!! So...

On that selfish note, I basically put a period to the timidly emerging vague pangs of conscience in my soul. Especially since I had no doubt that sooner or later, she would forgive me for this too. Mom always forgave me.

Later, when I more or less came to my senses, fear pricked me for a moment. Could it be no one heard us? I strained to listen into the darkness. But no, the answer was the same friendly snoring throughout the house from my family. Even the aunts on the sofa at the other end of the room apparently didn't even stir. I breathed a sigh of relief. Dodged a bullet.

I honestly wanted to make amends. Even whispered apologies. Well, is it so hard to try for Mom? But she wouldn't have it. Lying there and quietly, now, really weeping.

After some time, I even started to feel irritation. Well, really—I'm here crucifying myself before her, stroking, whispering all sorts of pleasantries, begging for forgiveness, humbly repenting—in short, I've turned myself inside out. And her? Zero emotion at all! As if I'm air or some ghost... Lying there, having buried her head in the pillow, just lying there, and whimpering.

And... The heat from her body. And her scent... That incredible mix. A woman's body and the smell of a woman... And when she's lying there, half-naked, next to you, just fucked by you... And now my cock is already pressing against Mom's thigh. And my hands again, as if by chance, wander and caress her shoulders, back, knead her neat ass... But Mom seemed to be in a complete daze and didn't grasp the point at all.

I sat up in bed, squeezed her shoulders—Mom immediately tensed all over. But I stopped being ceremonious with her.,—and easily overcoming her resistance again, flipped her onto her back. Mom looked at me in fright. Her face tear-stained, swollen, suddenly somehow grown older... She was shaken by convulsive sobs, now, apparently, even against her will. Well, why are you looking at me with resentment and reproach? You'll look like that in the morning when I'm sober and have had my fill of fun with you. But for now... For now, I know you won't scream, you still won't call for help.

I don't know, but for some reason her attitude towards me only offended me. Well, what the hell, huh?! I'm still her own son. We haven't seen each other for a whole year. And she's here...

Then her gaze fell on my crotch and she gasped loudly... I was just pulling her panties down when she jerked, started kicking her legs. Well, if that's how you are... Come on, come on... I simply tore the weightless fabric with a finger movement, tossing it to the floor... She dug her nails into my chest. And that really hurt, damn it. Without much thought, I slapped her hard across the face. I overdid it a bit, though—her head even slammed into the pillow. Damn, I always... A pang of conscience—no, I really didn't want to hit Mom.

But right now I was in such a state that the pangs of conscience quickly drowned in an ocean of excitement. Of course, there could be no question of me stopping now and begging my mother's forgiveness for hitting her. And I was already quite aroused, my young body insistently demanded a woman and another release.

Spreading her legs apart was a matter of seconds—and Mom wasn't resisting anymore anyway. I lay on top of her, trembling from the pleasant feeling of a beautiful female body beneath me. Took my already hard and erect penis in hand and carefully inserted it into Mom.

Still, she was too small for me, no matter what you say. Even now, after our first coupling. I didn't want to cause Mom pain, but still couldn't hold back and entered sharply to the end, until our pubic bones were pressed tightly together... Something flickered on Mom's face that, to my chagrin, had little to do with pleasure. She couldn't even hold back a moan through tightly clenched lips.

I froze, again enjoying the incredible feeling of possessing a woman.

"I love you...," I whispered just in case.

I kissed her tear-wet eyes, her face. But again she didn't respond to me at all. Just closed her eyes and lay motionless, only trembling slightly and sobbing from the tears choking her.

I really wanted to, but still didn't dare kiss her on the lips. She might bite...

This time I fucked slowly, savoring every movement. The excitement wasn't blowing my mind like the first time, and I even tried to be quieter. Though it didn't matter—the sofa creaked rhythmically, and Mom also, every time I entered her to the hilt, groaned softly... I leaned over her, caressed her neck with my tongue, or kissed her face again. But mostly I admired her face. I wanted her to look into my eyes now. Let it be reproachful, let it be condemning, but I wanted to see her eyes. And she mine. I'm not good at pretty speeches. I'm a man of action. But perhaps in my eyes she would see everything herself. And understand everything. How much I love her. And that there's no person dearer to me in the world than her. But she wasn't looking at me. She just closed her eyes and lay motionless, head thrown back on the pillow. I really wanted to believe that the shadows that now and then flitted across her face during my lovemaking thrusts—were still the result of her liking me, as a man and as a lover.

Feeling that it was all over, at the peak, I even found the strength to stop—no, I didn't want to finish so quickly again. After all, I'm a man—and it would sting if Mom thought I was a quick shot... I don't know why, but it suddenly became important to me to prove to her that I was a good and skilled lover.

I pulled out of her and went all out on her breasts. No point hiding it now, I used to wonder back in school—what my mother's tits felt like and tasted like... Pulling the short tank top up under Mom's chin, I kneaded them with boundless lust, played with the large dark nipples. So juicy and firm