Have a godly gander at mother.

Being left thirsty at the sight of two sizable breasts from a pretty woman, even after a not so distant ejaculation? 'Predictable,' utters the prudent. 'Single in track, plural in blood circulation,' offers the overly florid poet. 'Whatever,' says yourself, before blessing them with free cruises and sending them out on an endlessly cyclic ocean.

In this end, and all in sight, your stimuli are a canvas with one hand behind the bristles. That of yourself. A dangerous notion for the conceited delusional. Being of no such delusion, you raise your hand.

With it, you aim two fingers directly at your step-mom's as of yet concealed buttocks, then something clicks in the air. Her tush, out of nowhere, starts shaking uncontrollably, in almost cartoonish carriage.

"What, oh! My--" Cass jumps. She sends a look of bewilderment at her vibrating bottom, grabbing it as if to pinch it still, but to no avail. It quivers away like an upturned RC, unlistening. "My butt, what is happening to my..!?"

As she speaks, her ass cheeks twiddle and shirk as if being wildly pulled on invisible wires, which amuse you greatly. Deciding to bestow peace, you snap your fingers. Your mom's ass blooms outward a shred and suddenly go still. Just as suddenly, Cassandra unclasps her hand from her ass and her expression reverts to leisurely cooking time mom-icles.

In her going back to her mixture stirring, you graze your chin. Within a second, you teleport in front of her, standing over the bowl she had been stirring in. It rattles a little at your sudden arrival.

"Mom, I need to cum, and take a leak. Can I do it in this bowl?"

"Oh, sure thing, honey," Cassandra withdraws to briefly wipe her hands on a towel. "Just don't make too much of a mess."

You telekinetically unzip your pants and fish out your dick. In preparation you tuck in your chest. Barely a second passes when your hardening, expanding penis finally unearths its head from dormancy and begins releasing bodily liquids all over the countertop, including an automated sheen of semen. A few trickles made it inside, at least. You glance to your mother, guilty as charged.

"Sorry about that Cass."

"Don't fret, John." As your mother accepts your apology, you nod, intently looking into her, and she continues standard-toned. "I will gladly clean it up. With my mouth."

"Good, I'd like to see you do that. You'll look like a bitch, though."

"John, don't be disrespectful. I'm your mother. And besides..." While she corrects you, she approaches the counter and then rapidly bends forward to mush her lips against the counter, then lets her tongue flop out to collect every ounce of your jizz and liquidated relief, slurping every droplet with rapid swings and slides, even circling it across the surface in one impressively congruent circle. "That's," she pitches her head up for air, in between breaths, finally, "not how you should conduct yourself around a woman."

Nodding, you insist, "Could you open your mouth a little more so I could see your tongue?"

Cass immediately obliges and stands up a little more upright, opening her mouth wide before you for inspection. The underside of her tongue is almost pressed against her chin. It is quite a suggestive face to see on your ordinarily self-composed guardian, but she does not appear to be self-conscious about it, as you prefer her to be -- at least for the moment.

You levitate towards her and bend forward. Grabbing her tongue, you gently roll the front region under your finger and twist and turn it. Making use of your spare hand, you rub its palm all across your now moist cock. Cass watches, her tongue between your fingers, as you wipe those same set of gunked out fingers across her oral organ.

"How's that taste, Mom?" you ask, releasing her.

"What a lovely flavor," she laughs, sticking her tongue into her cheek. "Your penis tastes wonderful."

"Flex your muscles."

Abruptly, your mother raises her arms and bends them towards her seriousness-equipped face. With the passion of a Schwarzenegger, she contracts all the bicep she could muster. Following a squint, you find a minor hump can be seen faintly pressing against her sleeves, though even that harvest of exertion quickly wanes into nothing. Somewhat unremarkable, mostly funny. This could make for 15 seconds of fame in a video gone viral, if you are inclined to record it.

Instead, you make a mental footnote.

Alright. Let's set her back to normal.

The scene seems to be cut with a black strip; one that only you would readily notice, and only for a blink as time is rewound and reality rebuilt.

Standing against the entryway of the kitchen once more, you turn your head to the right to see Cass back where she had been so innocently and obliviously before, stirring her sweet smelling mixture into unity as you stare on from behind.

Slap your ass, mom, you direct your gaze towards her arse.

Her un-utilized hand was complacently placed on her hip, when suddenly, she raises it in the air behind her. Still working on the batch of amalgamated powders and ingredients, she then pummels her ass with the hand she left to its own naughty devices, allowing the sound to ring across the room.

The next second, the hand returns to her hip, her fingers back to cradling her lithe, if slightly fleshy, hip. A lip of yours takes to curling.

You walk up to her, stop behind her, and snap your fingers. Suddenly, her bottoms disappear. Cass fails to react. Even as you grab her hips and free your extensive dick into the open, then kick her right foot an inch to the right. With an effortless schlick, you then dock your hard cock into her pussy, thrusting powerfully and without warning into her welcoming vaginal orifice, causing her soles to rise from the tiles below with tippy-toed retention, trembling a little at the ripple.

"John," you hear your step-mom blurt in soft surprise, "are you fucking me from behind?"

Thrust, thrust, thrust! "No."

"Oh," she wrinkles her brow as she returns to her stirs. "For some reason, I thought you were putting your penis in me. Some... odd, strange reason."

"Huh," you push into her pussy rigorously, causing blotches of white to spew out of the bowl and onto her arms as she shakily tried to hold it down. "You mean, the dick I have currently inside your pussy?"

"Yes, that dick," the woman follows earnestly, "the one you're currently thrusting into my pussy."

"Right," you slap Cass's arse, your other hand holding on to her grabbable abdomen and traveling upward, wedging into one heavenly slab of underboob. "My dick's inside you, yeah. But no, I'm not presently fucking you, mom."

"Well, that's a relief." Her feet go on tiptoes again as you plow into her, towards the ceiling, her naked legs looking as effervescent as ever as they slightly tremor at your upward huzzahs. "It would be a really big problem if you were."

"So," you continue, closing in on the rapidly drawing edge, "since I'm not fucking you, could my dick cum inside your pussy?"

"Please do, John."

"Thanks," your hands grip her hips as you stiffen and out bursts your daddy cream into her warm womb. When you pull out, you both drip with leftovers.

Hm, the goo dangles toward the floor as you scoop a string onto a digit. I think I'll get myself cleaned up.

As you start for elsewhere, you look back. "Mom, don't stand like that when you're making a batch. Bend over and stick out your bum."

Your step-mother raises her brow, but in a second, manages to push herself slightly further from the counter as she leans toward it, leaving her pantsless legs straight up and ass pointed to you -- and conversely, anyone who were to walk in on that moment, and the following ones she remained like so. "Is this fine?"

Two thumbs up from you is all she needs to return to her swirls, one hand on her chin, as she shifts weight from one leg to the other, allowing a wider view of her slight bush-hidden pussy and producing a shapely effect with her womanly curved bottom. Translucent white, if you were to drop your gaze downward, can be seen dripping from her honeypot non-attested to, and down the inner side of her thigh. Then, with a thought, she looks down, swipes a dollop with her finger, and sticks it nail-first into the mix.

Never the kind to leave out an exotic ingredient or three, Cassandra Doe.