I Had A Threesome With My Mother, In Vegas!

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By Lauren McAllister

            My mother had just suffered through a very testy divorce.  Apparently, after twenty-five years of blissful wedlock, daddy decided he didn’t want his wife to be married to a lying, womanizing asshole any more.  He’s considerate like that.  

            Since gaining her blessed freedom from the ties that bind, dear mater had embarked on an intense regimen of Xanax, booze and late night calls (almost exclusively to me).  Hey, I really love my mom but a girl needs her beauty sleep.  

            After a few months of this relentless whining, wining and wallowing, I suggested that we should both forget about our dull, dreary lives and go spend a week in Vegas disgracing the very name of womanhood.  It seemed like the perfect solution.  I’d just turned 21 and was in real need of a break from studying and the would be absolute roomfuls of people for my mother to talk to when she was drunk at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

            The first few days were an absolute blast.  I got her into the spa and back to the gym and she really seemed to be turning a corner.  There’s nothing like having a big hunky dude massaging your nakedness to a bright pink glow to make you feel like a sexy woman again instead of a container for alcohol (Not that we were teetotalers, or anything).  The restaurants were great and we even had a small number of attractive gentlemen hit on us at the gambling tables.  Unfortunately, for my own nether needs, mom wasn’t really ready to get back into the penis pleasing business just yet.  Still, I could see that she was flattered by the attention.  

            Mother must have been really flattered because I woke up in the middle of the night and heard some rather startling noises coming from her side of the bed.  Gadzooks!  My mother was having a wank!  It was rather inconvenient because I had a couple of Singapore Slings banging on my bladder wall and demanding to be let out but I couldn’t possible move until she’d finished.  She’d be mortified.  Having your daughter catch you masturbating is definitely not the way to regain your mojo.  So, I just lay there as still as possible while she got on with business.  Thank God the covers were concealing her modesty but sneaking a peek down to about twat-level, her little hand lump was bobbing up and down like a madman.  Mom was trying to be as silent as a masturbating church mouse but a few moans and sighs did leak out of her as she got closer to blastoff.  At some point, her breast popped out from under the sheet and she started to pinch and caress her nipple.  Oh great, now I was watching my mother feel herself up while desperately trying not to wet the bed.  This was turning into one of those old British comedies where all actors ever talk about is sex and needing to pee.  Suddenly, she became a lot less concerned about waking me up and flung her legs apart and groaned.  I could hear her making that frenzied splashy sound between her legs as she furiously whapped away at her soaking vaginal lips and clit.  The mattress began to quake as big orgasmic waves started to stampede through her torso.  Spasm after spasm made it look and sound like she was being eaten out by a walrus.  It had obviously been quite a while since mom had pounded her pudding pond. 

            After her body mercifully fell into silence, I had a very important decision to make.  How long should I wait before I got up to take that blessed, wonderful, life-affirming whizz?  Too soon and she was going to know that I witnessed her jack her stack but if I didn’t go almost immediately, I was going to explode.  38 seconds was the time frame I finally settled upon. 

            While it was a more than a little harrowing sharing a bed with your mother while she was slapping her happy, I was actually quite pleased that she was getting back into the sexual swing of things.  My, don’t I sound like a fully grown adult?

            Thankfully, for the rest of the vacation, both of us confined our “beaver bashing” to the bathroom.  Well, at least I know I did. 

            The whole week flew by, as fun times frequently do.  On our last afternoon, we were coming back from some giant casino or other and we passed a sign at a small hotel announcing that Tony Mascino was appearing there.  My mother couldn’t believe it.  She had a few of his albums – she’s a great mom (sometimes)… but she has the shittiest taste in music (all the time).  These records are mostly boring old standards with a cover of an Oasis or Soundgarden song thrown in to made your skin crawl.  He was kind of like Frank Sinatra but with a second rate voice and third rate charisma. 

            “Let’s go!” she suddenly screams, almost causing our cabbie to run over an ancient Egyptian cocktail waitress (we’d had a couple of glasses of wine at lunch).

            “Sure,” I say, once I pull my tits back out of my throat. 

            Mom was like a little girl for the rest of the day, totally giddy at the prospect of seeing this exceedingly minor celebrity “live.”  At least it was a good excuse to go out and buy brand new outfits and have ourselves done up to the nines.  I mean, we were smokin’ hot.  Unfortunately, mom was also smokin’ hot-to trot. By the time the evening rolled around, I thought I was going to have to have her committed.  A couple of margaritas with dinner managed to calm her hysteria to an almost acceptable level but I had no idea how she was going to act once this idiot started singing. 

            Tony came on around nine (We’d both imbibed a substantial number of Cable Car Martinis.) and I’ll admit it; he wasn’t that bad.  He possessed a certain charisma live that didn’t come across on record and mom was eating it up.  I noticed several shameless “come hither” smiles aimed stage-ward as we sipped our Captain-Morgan-spiked concoctions.  By the third or fourth song, I noticed that he was returning some of her flirtatious looks.  And then he started looking at me!  The more I drank, the cuter he became and I actually found myself shooting a few smiley glances back. 

            When the performance ended, Tony did the hundred yard dash over to where we were sitting.  Mom was practically diddling herself under the table as he helped himself to our empty chair.  Lordy, he sure had his patter down.  Compliments and complimentary drinks flowed freely.  The former were nice, the latter were staggering. 

            “When I saw you two, I thought, ‘Now there are a couple of gorgeous sisters.’”

            My mother laughed and spilled her cocktail in lieu of a correction. 

            “Say, they’re going to be closing this place down in a few minutes, why don’t you both come up to my suite?  It overlooks the whole city.”

            My sensible brain would have said, “STOP!”  Even Paris Hilton could intuit where this was headed.  Alas, that brain had been tragically drowned in a sea of rum and orange curacao.  I told myself that I was just going up to make sure my mom was safe but who the fuck knows what I was really thinking or if. 

            Tony had the champagne out and the mood music on before we’d even got our four unsteady feet through his door.  The suite was quite luxurious and did boast a terrific view.  We were handed flutes of domestic bubbly, just before he grabbed both our asses and yanked us in tight (My what a fresh fellow his was!).  “You two are so goddamn hot, I can’t control myself,” he leered and stuck his tongue in my mother’s mouth. 

            “I’m Alisha, by the way and she’s Carissa.”  I thought he should at least know our names before proceeding any further down this highly questionable road. 

            That’s as much information as I managed to impart before Tony’s tongue found its way into my mouth.  And (Blush) I’m afraid to say that my own tongue eagerly returned his fire.  Things were starting to get pretty steamy.  Our three bodies were rubbing up against each other in most inappropriate ways.  I could feel his boner pushing out at us through his Italian slacks.  My little twat was becoming extremely moist and not listening to a thing my brain was telling it.  This was not a good sign.  I rubbed the heart of my pelvis up and down against his hip bone while we snogged.  Tony pulled back and turned my face towards my mother.  I should have protested heartily but I didn’t.  I just looked hornily into her eyes and opened my lips for the incestuous, illegal-in-most-countries smooch that I knew was on its way.  And what a corker of a smooch it was!  Sensuous, wet and tender.   Her lips were so soft and plump, I didn’t want to stop kissing her.  The indisputable wrongness of the act only made the moment all the more sizzling.   I reach around and grabbed her ass.  Mom headed for higher ground.  As she was feverishly feeling up my tits in the front, I felt my bra pop open in the back.  This guy was smooth!

            Skirts fell to the ground, blouses were removed and pants were jettisoned.  It was becoming a sexual free-for-all.  Before I knew it, I was down on my knees watching my mother enthusiastically suck cock.  Not usually a big part of the mother/daughter bonding handbook.  She liberally basted his knob with her tongue and slowly slid the shaft into her mouth right up to the hilt.  Mom was giving major head!  I stopped gawking at her fab fellatio and started licking his scrotum and ball sack.  This guy was one lucky son of a bitch.  Tony had his hands on both our heads as we plied our feminine wares upon his man parts.  Mom took hold of his penis and dragged it around my lips like it was a stick of gloss.  I could feel the bulbous head, wet with my mother’s saliva, as it slid across my cheek. 

            “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, baby” she softly requested.  I complied.  She teased and abused me with its meaty heft as I gazed into her eyes.  Eventually, she grabbed the back of my head and made me swallow the entire length of his schlong.  Don’t get me wrong, I like blowing a guy as much as the next girl but this was a little weird.  Mom was giving me instructions and encouragement as his dick bashed against the back of my throat.

            “Suck that cock, baby.  Tickle his balls.”  Then she rubbed her hand up and down between my legs.  “My, you are wet.”

            “MOM!!!”

            She took me over to the bed and lowered her naked flesh down on top of mine.  Our tongues entwined as our tits squished together.  Blush.  I spread my legs wide to allow my mom’s cock-cave total access to my completely gooey mound.  Feeling our swollen plums grind back and forth against one another had me absolutely creaming.  I took her ass-cheeks in my hands and pulled her into me to increase the friction.  There were already pre-cum spasms flitting up my abdomen and engorging my tits. 

Tony grabbed my mother’s hips and pulled her backwards towards him.  Mom’s face slid down my stomach and came to rest on my pulsating quim as Mr. Song Man guided his cock inside her, from the rear.  So, now I’m watching my mother eat me out as she’s being fucked doggie style by a stranger.  It’s not a sight you get to witness most evenings.  I could tell how turned on she was by the way she slurped away between my legs.  She was tongue fucking my vaginal canal while speed-dialing my happy button with her thumb.  Meanwhile, Tony was doggy-ing the hell out of her.  That’s all I could take.  I grabbed her head and started to cum like a pack of psychotic baboons into her mouth.  A few seconds into to my spasmodic gyrations, she too started to climax and it was truly a biggie.  I’m surprised our collective climactic screams didn’t bring hotel security rushing into the room.  All dignity and decorum were cast to the wind as my mother burrowed into my snatch like a truffle pig and I ground my juicy, swollen slit into her lips and nose while swearing like a demented sailor. 

I’d barely had time to catch my post-orgasmic breath when places were quickly traded and now I had a mouthful of my mother and an ass-full of Tony.  I usually find anal a little uncomfortable, but luckily, I was so sloshed that it muted the pain and all I really felt was the ramming sensation of his cock into my lower colon.

            “Lick mommy, baby.  Make mommy cum,” purred my mother as I whipped her vulva and clitoris into a righteous froth.  I started to do some serious finger fucking as I sucked on her love nub.  You’d have thought her pussy was made out of Haagan Dazs the way I was going at it.  Her hips rose up to meet my lingual thrusts just as my ass rose up to meet Tony’s pecker slamming into my butthole. 

            I don’t know whether you’ve ever had your mother cum on your face, but it’s hot and weirdly evil at the same time (as is most of the best sex).  She had a lock-grip on my hair as I continued to lather up her succulent clam. As Mother Dearest began to crest, I could feel her clit face-fucking my upper gum. And she kept up trying to rearrange my dentistry with her nummy plug through the longest orgasm I have every fucking witnessed.

Meanwhile, out back, I could tell that Tony was getting close to dumping a big one up my ass.  As my mother’s sensual cyclone finally began to ebb, “the singer” dug his fingernails deep into my hips (now, that really did hurt) and moaned like a dyspeptic Wookiee.  Giant hot splurts of his jism gushed into my anal cavity as he hammered his cock even further into my massacred sphincter.  I reached back through my legs and scraped his balls with my fingernails to squeeze every last molecule of his creamy load up into my asshole.  All right, I’ll admit it.  This was by far the hottest night of fucking I’d ever had.

            Finally, our gigantic incestuous bacchanal was over and mother and I lay spent on either side of our Italian one-night-stand.  Though, mom did reach over a few times to French kiss me and play with my nipples.  In the morning, we were treated to Mr. Crooner whacking off in front of our immeasurably embarrassed and hungover faces.  Apparently, he wanted to cum on both of us at the same time and we were just too deathly ill to protest.  Then he toddled off to the gym, telling us to let ourselves out.

            On the plane home, we couldn’t even look at one another.  We just sat there, staring at the seat ahead of us in abject mortification for three and a half hours.  The unspeakable realization that you’ve gone down on your own mom is absolutely hypnotic in its awe-inspiring horribleness.   I can only imagine what was going through her debased and guilt-ridden head.

            Thank God the plane eventually landed and pulled us out of our mutually grossed-out gloom.  

            Just as we were about to grab separate taxis, my mother broke our oh-so-awkward silence.  “Thanks.  I really needed that and I couldn’t have done it without you.”  She then gave me a huge, lingering soul kiss and hoped into a cab.

            Mom and I eventually mended our familial fences.  Things are really turning around for her.  She has a boyfriend now.  I had sex with them last Thursday night and he seems like a really nice guy.  

The End 

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