Betty and I had tried some adventurous positions in the past, but oral and doggy style were never her favorites.
However, tonight, she surprisingly went along with Michael in a bent-over position.
While it wasn’t exactly doggy style, it shared many similarities.
Despite our previous attempts, we never quite succeeded with this position due to Betty’s voluptuous buttocks acting as a barrier, and my average American-sized penis couldn’t fully penetrate her because of our height difference.
I could only keep the tip in, with the shaft mostly outside, making any thrusting motion impossible without slipping out.
However, there was a way to achieve full penetration in this position: Betty had to lower her waist to the ground and raise her buttocks as high as possible, even standing on her tiptoes, spreading her buttocks to their maximum.
She found this position embarrassingly similar to doggy style—the main difference being that doggy style is done kneeling, while this was standing.
Michael, trying to navigate the height and angle differences, held his penis and aimed the tip at Betty’s buttock crease.
Despite his efforts, he struggled to find the right angle for insertion.
Eventually, he had to give up, releasing his penis and using both hands to press down on Betty’s buttocks.
Feeling Michael’s hands pressing down, Betty resisted by pushing her waist up against him.
Michael didn’t force her; he maintained a gentle pressure, showing tenderness to his beloved mother.
It turned into a tug-of-war.
Finally, Betty looked back at Michael.
By then, due to the prolonged time without penetration, she had sobered up a bit.
She glanced at Michael, then subtly shook her buttocks as if to signal her refusal.
However, Michael didn’t catch on to her signals.
With Betty in such a state, he couldn’t penetrate her, and he became visibly anxious and flustered.
Seeing Michael’s distressed state, Betty turned her head away and sighed quietly in a direction he couldn’t see.
After sighing, Betty slowly lowered her head, her long hair cascading down the sides, covering her cheeks and obscuring her expression from me.
But as her head lowered, not only her hair fell but also her slender waist.
As Betty lowered her waist, her buttocks began to protrude more, and as her waist dipped, the angle of her vaginal opening shifted from facing the ground to facing Michael.
Initially aligned with Betty’s tailbone, as her waist sank, her vaginal opening rose, and Michael’s tip, which had been nestled in her buttock crease, slid past her anus towards her vaginal opening.
In this moment, it was Betty who moved, not Michael.
Betty eventually compromised, perhaps out of sympathy for Michael, considering his recovery, or because she was completely overtaken by lust at that moment.
Just as Betty adjusted the direction of her vaginal opening, with a soft "plop," as Michael’s tip touched her entrance, he seemed to sense it instinctively.
Seizing the opportunity, he thrust his hips powerfully, his egg-sized tip parting Betty’s labia and plunging inside, emitting a sound like air being squeezed out.
"Ah..." As Betty lowered herself, she felt the glide of Michael’s tip, but when her entrance met his head, despite her mental preparation, the speed and force of Michael’s thrust made her uncontrollably moan aloud.
"Smack, smack, smack..." Once Michael re-entered Betty, he felt the long-missed tightness and warmth, and he began to thrust rapidly, his groin soaked with love juices, continuously slamming into Betty’s plump buttocks, causing waves of flesh to ripple with each impact.
Originally, only the front of Betty’s body was moist, her pubic hair and the entrance to her core, her buttocks remained untouched by their shared fluids.
Now, with Michael’s relentless pounding, the love juices from his pubic hair kept splashing onto Betty’s buttocks.
The collision of their bodies was even more solid than before, the fluids secreted by their connected parts were pulled out by Michael’s shaft and splashed out with each thrust, eventually running down Betty’s buttock crease to her tailbone, splattering everywhere, marking Betty’s slender waist and jade back with their mingling essences.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah..." This position was one Betty always disliked, but dislike didn’t mean she truly hated it; perhaps the position she disliked the most was the one she wanted to try but never dared to.
Betty’s body rocked back and forth from Michael’s impacts, her hands braced against the wall, her buttocks forcefully pushing back to meet Michael’s thrusts.
Her moans finally regained volume, louder than the cries she made during their initial coupling.
She might not have realized that the position she had always disliked was the one that thrilled her the most.
"Smack, smack, smack, smack..." The sound of their bodies colliding, "squish, squish, squish..." the sound of their parts rubbing, the fluids being squeezed out, their heavy breathing, and Betty’s continuous moaning filled the small bathroom.
A mother and a son, despite the vast difference in their roles and ages, were now engaged in fervent union, as if returning to the primordial chaos before creation, where there were no roles of mother and son, only a man and a woman, Michael as Adam and Betty as Eve, engaged in the timeless act of creation.
Betty’s full breasts swung under her chest with each of Michael’s thrusts, the pink nipples tracing repetitive arcs.
Michael, while taking her, caressed Betty’s slender waist, moving from there to knead her buttocks, and from her buttocks to her jade back.
His hands then slid over her back and underarms, finally grasping and steadying her ample breasts, calming the previously ’naughty’ breasts...
Michael gripped Betty’s breasts firmly, his hips relentlessly pounding against her buttocks, which rippled like waves, creating ripples with each impact.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah..." As Michael’s pace quickened, Betty’s moans grew louder and more frantic, merging into a continuous melody.
Michael’s frenzied pace signaled his approaching climax, and Betty sensed it too.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes, a flash of clarity in her lust-filled gaze, and glanced sideways at Michael.
"Ah, ah... don’t... no... ah, oh... don’t come... ah... don’t... inside... oh... ah, ah, ah..." Betty tried to intersperse her pleas among her moans, the words "don’t come inside" breaking through intermittently.
At this moment, it was uncertain if Michael could hear her over the cacophony of his heavy breathing, the slapping of flesh, her moans, and the squelching sounds of their union.
The bathroom was filled with a chaotic ’symphony.’
Michael, in his dazed state, might not have heard her.
Even if he did, would he heed her words?
"Don’t... ah..." As Betty uttered a hesitant cry, Michael’s thrusting slowed, then culminated in one final, forceful drive.
Th𝓮 most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.
"Plop..." With his last thrust, Michael pulled back to the brink, leaving only the tip inside, before plunging deeply once more.