Mom is ready to be fulfilled

You return to the living room to find your mother has now freed herself of her pants entirely and is stroking her crotch through her garments. The sacred white underwear that show she has been through the temple ceremonies are soaking up her juices, along with some spilled jello shots.

"There's my sonny son!" She exclaims delightedly. "I was jus' thinksing 'bout you! ≤giggle≥ You shuzna lef me all 'loje an' horny! "

"Sorry, mom," you apologize. "I had to do something upstairs."

"Noooo! You gotta do sumfin DOWNstairs!" She disagreed, and started squirming out of her garment bottoms to make sure he had taken her meaning. "Mommy's horny an' you gawsa do a son's doozey!"

This is happening. It's fucking unbelievable but it's happening. Your hot mom is telling you you have to fuck her as your religious duty. You feel vaguely guilty about what you've done to her, but it's her own damned fault for following her religion so blindly and insisting you do the same.

At least you tell yourself that. Or maybe you're just a motherfucker. A motherfucking motherfucker. Her blonde-thatched snatch beckons and you decide you're ok with that.

You pounce on your drunken mother and squeeze her tits. She moans with pleasure and arches her back.

"Oh wow! Your tits are amazing, mom!" You say.

"Hey! No!" She objects. "Don' say the T-word! You shuz call my big boobies boobies like a good boy!"

You are feeling her up and she's concerned about your language. She is still really damned Mormon, despite what you've changed about that.

"I love your boobies, Mom," you amend, thinking it's a very small price to pay for such fine titties.

"Her do sweet!" She says, and giggles. "But you shuzna call me Mom when we're don' it. Iss weird. Yet dad calls me Angel when we're don' the, you know, the married thing."

She's inviting you to fuck her but she can't say fuck. Unbelievable. But acceptable! And she is right. Calling her Mom under these circumstances is weird. Shortening her "Angelica" to "Angel" seems just right.

"As you wish, Angel," you agree, and release her left boobies to reach down between her legs. "You give me such good tidings of great joy."

"Oh hazzezuya!" She gasps.

Then you lean in and kiss her and she thrusts her tongue into your mouth and thrusts her hips up against your hand, her mound warm and slick and needy. You break off the kiss to gasp for air. Her glasses are all fogged up. She blinks and giggles, then tosses them across the room carelessly. She's too drunk to see straight regardless.

She fumbles with her blouse buttons ineffectively with uncoordinated fingers. You're more sober than she, and more anxious to remove her clothes, so take over and soon she's naked on the couch. You pull your own shirt over your head only to feel your mother's hand groping at your crotch.

"Oooooh!" She exclaims. "Founzee iron rod!

You drop your shirt and admire your naked drunk mother pawing at your fly, then you push her gently back onto the couch and remove your pants, letting your iron rod stand strong and true.

"This is for you, Angel," you tell her as she grins in befuddled delight. "This is a blessing for you!"

"Oh yes! Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!" She exclaims, spreading her labia with one hand. "Fullfil me, Hyrum! Fill me an' fullfil me!"

It's a duty you've given to yourself, but a duty none the less, and one you will not shirk. You mount your mother, intent on giving her the fuck of her lifetime.

As you push into her, she inhales raggedly, her booze-blurred eyes rolling around in her head. You grab her big left tit and squeeze and she gasps "Oh Hyrum! Oh yes!"

"Oh my beautiful Angel!" You exclaim. "I'm going to fuck your drunken brains out."

"Langu..." She starts to object, but then you thrust hard as you pinch a nipple and she shudders and moans, forgetting her maternal duty to keep you frow saying fuck as she is subsumed by your duty to fuck her.

Your mom is a very vocal lover. Or at least she is when she's rink and being fucked by her son. You have no idea what she's trying to say, scream, moan and jibber, but she's saying it quite enthusiastically as you thoroughly plow her field.

It doesn't take long to figure out she really likes it when you squeeze her nipples. She squeels or gasps or moans every time you do it and so of course you keep doing so. She groped around trying to grab your ass with her left hand and when she finally finds it, she raised her right thigh up and starts bucking her self up towards you, her cunt needily consuming more and more of your iron rod until at las she scrams louder than at any point up until, her fingers digging into your ass as her whole body trembles beneath you.

You join her in orgasm, filling her up with your spunkk, your back arching as you trust deeper inside of her and shudder.

You collapse on top of her, every nerve in your body singia hallelujah chorus as you pant and sweat. She strokes the back of your head and mutters "Oh Hyrum..my. hyrum...sush a good boy..."

After a few blissful minutes you realize you must be weighing heavily on her so you push yourself up and she inhales deeply as you smile a shy apology. She is flush from the booze and sex and her blonde hair is a chaotic halo.

"Oh Angel!" You whisper reverently.

"Hyrum..." She says, and for a second you worry she's about to say this was a mistake but instead she says "You needs take me to my bed an' do me again!"