That night, I slept in her bed for the first time. Emma, my foster Mom climbed on top of me, and I surrendered completely to the sweetness of her touch. She rubbed her heavy breasts against my chest, teasing my nipples with hers, while whispering hot, tender nonsense in my ear. Her hand never left my cock, stroking it slowly, lovingly, playing with my balls. I was losing my mind from her filthy, addictive kisses until she finally straddled me. I was barely eighteen, just learning how to masturbate without disturbing household. Mom lowered herself slowly, taking every inch of my swollen cock into her tight, wet pussy. She rode me with smooth, sensual movements, her full breasts swaying right above my face. I sucked on her hard nipples and squeezed her tits while she moaned softly. “Atta boy, my sweet man” We came together. Mom clenched her pussy around me, milking my cock with rhythmic pulses as I pumped another thick load deep inside her. Then she lay down on top of me, covering my face and lips with quick, grateful kisses.
“My love… I’ve dreamed about this for so long, ” she whispered. “All those years watching you grow up, seeing your cock get bigger and stronger… I wanted it more and more. I wanted to feel it inside me, to kiss it, to worship it… I wanted you to incubate my cunt.” She blushed and looked away, then sucking my tongue…and thats how it started. She a dominatrix and I her masochist soree dressed as a clown, usually. When not her pony like my foster sister is.
The next morning, I woke to the scent of coffee and something richer, leather. Mom stood at the foot of the bed already dressed in her dominatrix gear: thigh-high boots, a corset that pushed her breasts up like an offering, and a riding crop tucked casually under one arm. Her smile was warm, almost tender, as she tossed a bundle of fabric at my chest. “Put it on, sweetheart. We’re starting today.”
